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vanfleeter · 3 months ago

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Black Smoke: Chapter 8 - Green With Envy

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!reader Warnings: 18+ as always. Fluff. Mentions of pregnancy. Angst. Insecurities. Anger. Jealousy. Arguments. Crying. Hurt feelings. Apologies. Flirting. Smut. Sexual acts. Penetrative sex. Oral sex (f receiving). Fingering. Nude photography.

Black Smoke Masterlist

The wind was chilly in the early morning, nearing four weeks after arriving home from Michigan. You adjusted the cap on your head after closing the trunk door of Jake’s jeep. Your stomach growls and you pout and whine. Jake peers around the corner of the jeep with his eyebrows creased together. “What are you whining about?”

“I’m hungry..” Shaking his head, he walks away and goes to the driver door. “Can we please stop and get some food on the way to the airport?” You ask when you climb into the jeep and close the door.

“We can eat when we get to the airport.” He says as he starts the engine. “We’re already running behind schedule.” You huff, making him chuckle and he puts the vehicle in reverse and drives off to the airport.

Making it to the airport and getting through security, Jake leads you through the crowded terminal and to your gate before dropping his backpack and yours to the floor. You hold out your hand, pouting your lip and he sighs rolling his eyes. “You literally ate this morning, how are you hungry again?” He says as he hands you his credit card. You simply shrug your shoulders and take the card from his hand. “Bring me back a coffee!” He calls as you’re walking away.

The second you step into the nearest cafe, you can smell the food cooking and it makes your stomach churn, but the food on the menu board looks really good. Ordering yourself a couple breakfast sandwiches and extra one for Jake just in case, you also order his coffee before making your way back through the terminal and to the spot where you had left him at the gate.

“Geez,” Jake chuckles when he spots the food in your hand and the two coffees.

“I hope it tastes better than smells,” You say as you pull out one of the sandwiches and hand it to him.

He cautiously sniffs it and shrugs his shoulders before pulling apart the wrapper and taking a bite. The action alone makes your stomach church again and you grimace at your own sandwich. Luckily it does taste better than it smells.

An hour passed and you were finally boarding the plane to head off to New York before boarding an international flight to London. By the early morning, the flight landed in London. Jake quickly dropped your stuff off the airport before taking a rental car to the studio.

“Mr. Kiszka!” The studio manager exclaims as he greets Jake with an open armed hug. He smiles widely at you. “And you must be the future Mrs. Kiszka,” He says, pulling you into a hug as well. “It is such a pleasure to be working with you, Mr. Kiszka. I’ve seen your work and it is absolutely amazing. I definitely believe you are the right fit to take on this job.”

“Thank you,” Jake says with a slight chuckle. You’ve learned since being with him that he sometimes gets a little flustered when complimented. It was something you found endearing.

“Well, let’s head on back and meet your model for these next few days,” The manager says as he begins to lead you through the studio and towards the back dressing rooms. Knocking on a door, a woman’s voice calls, allowing you to enter and he pushes the door to reveal the most gorgeous woman sitting on a chair in front of a large mirror while the makeup artist is dabbing on a little powder.

“Angelica, I would love to introduce you to Jake Kiszka. He’s going to be our photographer for the next few days for this shoot.”

Angelica smiles and excuses herself from the artist and stands up from the chair. If you were already insecure over just seeing her face, you’re definitely even more insecure when you see just how perfect her body is too. Perfectly sculpted body and toned abs. Surely Jake would find her attractive and that sends a nervous vibe through your body.

“Jake!” She smiles and immediately pulls him in for a hug. “I am so happy to be working with you! Oh I’ve seen your work and I have to say that it is phenomenal. When they told me you'd be the photographer for this shoot, I was so excited. Still am!”

Instinctively your eyebrows crease when you see his cheeks flush red and he stammers over his next sentence that falls from his mouth, “Th-Thank you Angelica. I’ve been looking through your portfolio to gain some idea of what seems to work best for you and I have to extend the same compliment. You’re very beautiful and you’re definitely right for this shoot.”

“Well thank you, Jake.” She giggles. Angelica’s attention turns to you and you can just tell the smile is fake as soon as she looks at you. “Hi! Oh my gosh, I’m being so rude. You must be Jake’s assistant.”

“Oh uh, no–”

“She’s my fiancée,” Jake interjects. “Angelica, meet (Y/N).”

“Oh! Fiancée! How exciting! Congratulations!”

“Well, we’ll let you finish getting ready while Jake gets his gear set up.”

“Of course! I’ll see you there!” Angelica gives Jake a wink before going back over to the chair and sitting down to finish getting her makeup down. Jake reaches for your hand and tugs you from the room.

He had been putting his camera together and changing the settings to ones he would need for the indoor portion of the shoot. “Okay, I am ready!” Angelica announces as she walks into the room. She dressed in a very revealing top and a pair of tight skinny jeans. You notice Jake glance up and fumble with the camera in his hands, nearly dropping. He clears his throat and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. You thought your scoff was quiet but Jake heard because he’s turning to look at you.

“What?”

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. “Nothing..” You say as you lean back in the chair that was provided for you.

“Jakey, how do I look?” Angelica calls as he fluffs her hair.

Jakey?

Who the fuck does she think is that she can him that?

“Jakey?” You mutter.

Jake shoots you a look. A warning look. He’s warning you? She’s the one trying to flirt with him and you get the warning look? If you weren’t starting to boil from jealousy already, you definitely are now.

“You look great,” Jake responds with his eyes still focused on you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Do you mind getting seated on the couch? Make yourself comfortable.”

“Anything for you, Jakey.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes when Jake’s eyes look back at you to make sure you weren’t doing anything wrong. You give him an innocent smile and he scoffs with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The whole shoot had you on edge. She would constantly call him ‘Jakey’, occasionally calling him ‘Sir’ and giggling when his cheeks flushed red. When he’d go up to fix her hair in the way he wanted it to look, she’d take that as an opportunity to fidget with the pendants on his necklace and compliment him on how cool they are after he explains which one is.

Is he purposely doing this to get under your skin? To test how far he can let this go before you explode?

He did catch you a few times rolling your eyes and sending you the same warning look. “Would you stop it?” He says coming up to you after calling for a break.

“Stop what?”

“Stop rolling your eyes–”

“Well–”

“And stop scoffing–”

“But–”

“None of her flirting means anything.”

“Tell that to your red cheeks, Jake.”

“You’re embarrassing me, stop it.”

Woah. Pause. Did he.. You’re embarrassing him? “Wow..” You breathe as you slide out of the chair. “This has gone from a photoshoot to flat out flirting. She’s always calling you ‘Jakey’, gross. And ‘Sir’? I’m sorry but there’s one person who can call you that, and that person is me.”

“(Y/N), it means nothing to me.”

“Well tell that to your dick,” You whisper-yell to him. “You think it isn’t noticeable? Gosh, Jake, you fucking fumbled your camera when she came out dressed in that outfit.”

Jake takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and exhaling. “Go back to the hotel.”

“What?”

“I said, go back to the hotel. You’ve been so rude all morning and I’m tired of it.”

“I’m being rude?” You shake your head and grab your coat and purse. “Have you seen the way she talks down to me? It’s so condescending and you haven’t even noticed. But whatever, I guess I’m the one being rude.”

“Just go and take a nap. You’ve been up for so long and it’s making you crabby.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the key for the rental car. “Here, take the car.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll get a taxi or something after we wrap up.” He gives you a kiss on the forehead and a light tap on your ass. “We’ll talk after I get back and after you’ve slept.”

Getting back to the hotel and up to the room, you toss your things onto the couch before going into the bedroom where you proceed to change into something more comfier. Standing in front of the mirror, you slowly lift up your shirt to look at your midsection. How can you compete with her? She has the perfect body and she’s fucking beautiful. Why wouldn’t he be attracted to her?

Of course he’s attracted to her, he got fucking hard just looking at her. He hasn’t felt that way towards you since the two of you got back to Nashville. He hasn’t even touched you since either. When was the last time you two were ever intimate? Was it really in his old bedroom at his parents’ house?

You didn’t realize you were crying until you looked up in the mirror. Your eyes grow red and your chin wobbles. Pulling your shirt back down, you turn away from the mirror and walk over to your suitcase to retrieve your earbuds. Music might be a good distraction and get your mind off of today.

It was nearly midnight in London by the time Jake finally came back to the hotel. And suddenly you are sent down the road of jealousy and anger when you see him as he walks into the bedroom. You give him a short glance before going back to scroll through social media on your phone.

“I figured your nap would have made you feel a little better.” He says as he sits on the edge of the bed and takes off his shoes.

“I’m not tired, if that’s what you mean..” You say, not taking your eyes away from your phone. “Did she flirt with you any more after I left?”

“(Y/N)..” Jake sighs.

“Well did she?”

His shoulders drop and he turns to face you. “Yes..” Your only response was a simple nod of your head. “It means nothing.. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“Until your dick stops hardening for her.”

“Would you knock it off?!” He finally shouts as he stands to his feet.

“I’m sorry, Jake! But it hurts, you know.” You toss your phone down on the bed and stare at him. “You seem so attracted to her.”

“But I’m not!”

“Yes you are, Jake.” You sigh. “And it’s fine, I get it. I don’t look like her. She’s fucking beautiful and her body..”

“Baby,” Jake kneels onto the bed and crawls over to you, his face just centimeters from your face. “You are beautiful.”

“But I don’t have her body, Jake.”

“So?” He rested back on his knees with his hands laying on his thighs. “Why does it matter if you have her body or not? I love your body.” Your bottom lip quivers and you lower your chin. “Hey look at me.” He says as he reaches towards you and lifts your chin back up. “Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because..” Your voice is shaky. “The way you looked at her today.. You haven’t looked at me like that since we got back from Michigan.”

“Just because you don’t see me looking at you, doesn’t mean that I’m not ever looking at you.”

“We’ve not been intimate either..”

“I have no excuse, really..” He sighs. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not still attracted to you. So what if you don’t have a supermodel’s body. I still love you.” He reaches for your arms and pulls you onto his lap. “You’re still so beautiful to me.” He gives you kisses before leaving a trail of them down your neck.

“Jake..”

“Shh..”

“Jake, stop..” You push away from him, crawling off his lap and moving away from him. “I don’t want pity sex..”

“Pity sex?” He questions. “Is that what you think it was going to be?”

“Yes, because you feel sorry and I don’t want to feel like you have to have sex me because I said that. I want you to have sex with me because you want to and because I’m sexy.”

“But I do want to.”

“No, you don’t..”

“Baby, yes I do!” He crawls over to the edge of the bed and holds your face in his hands. “I always want to have sex with you!”

Tears escape down your cheeks and you push him away again. “Then why haven’t you for the last month, Jake?! But the second Angelica steps out in that top revealing her boobs and her jeans were so tight, you were totally into that! She turned you on, dammit! I haven’t done that to you in weeks!” More tears fell down your cheeks. “How can we get married when I don’t make you feel like that anymore?”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry that I ever made you feel this way..” He tries to reach for you again but you take a step back. “(Y/N)..”

“Just go find Angelica.. At least you won’t pity her..” You quickly go into the bathroom and close the door behind you and twist the lock.

Geez, why do you have to be so emotional? You’ve never cried this much. Leaning against the sink, you slowly rock back and forth as you breathe in deeply and exhaling at a slow pace. And your anger? Jealousy? You’ve never been jealous because you’ve never had a reason to be jealous.

A gentle knock sounds on the door before Jake speaks. “(Y/N).. I’m sorry.. I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I want to make you feel better. I want to fix this. Please open the door.” He went quiet for a minute or two before speaking again. “I want to make love to you, and not out of pity. I want to make love to you because I do love you. I really do. I want to kiss you in all the right places, I want to touch you until you’re squirming beneath me. Please let me prove to you that I love you.”

Wiping your hands across your face, you go over to the door and unlock it before pulling it open. He stands there with the most sorrowful look that you’d ever seen on his face. He doesn’t move as you wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head against his chest. Slowly he moves his arms around you and holds you close.

“I’m sorry..” You whimper. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me..”

“It’s okay..” Jake says as he rubs his hand up and down your back.

“Jake?”

“Hm?”

You lift your head to look at him. “I love you.”

He smiles and raises his hand to your face to brush your hair behind your ear. “I love you too.” He moves slightly closer, his lips just barely brushing against yours. “Can I kiss you?” He asks.

“Yes..”

He smiles before he presses his lips to yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press your body closer to his as the kissing begins to heat up. His hands find their way back to your waist and he rests them on your hips before he’s pressing your body up against his. Bending slightly, he picks you up off the floor and sets you on his waist and carries you back to the bed where he lays you down.

He pulls away from you long enough to remove his shirt before kissing you again. You can feel him growing hard beneath the fabric of his jeans and he grinds himself against your core. With your permission, he slowly addresses you and kisses every inch of your body as he goes.

As much as he desires to bring you pleasure, he longs to make love to you even more. He settles himself between your legs and kisses you before pushing himself inside of you. You gasp from the sting, fully aware of how long the two of you have not been like this. He moves slowly, allowing you ample time to adjust to him again.

“Jake..”

“(Y/N)..”

“I think I might be pregnant..”

He slows his pace before coming to a stop and he props himself up just enough to really look at you. “What makes you think that?”

“Just a feeling..” You say. “I’ve never been this emotional before.. And the airport? The food made me so queasy. And then suddenly I'm a raging, jealous bitch only to burst into tears and feel so bad.. I’m supposed to get my period in a couple days but.. If I’m late..”

“Then let’s hope you are.”

“If I am, are you for sure okay with that?”

“Of course I am,” He leans to kiss you before gently thrusting his hips forward.

He starts to move again, still gentle but passionate. Soon he’s bringing the both of you to your climaxes. The warm feeling takes over your body as you feel the two of you melding together. He’s resting his head on your shoulder, him breathing heavily as you softly run your fingers through his hair. When the two of you relax, he carefully pulls out of you and goes off to the bathroom to retrieve a wet washcloth to clean you both off.

He can’t help but to kiss way down your leg when he finishes and tosses the cloth off the side, no doubt that he’ll probably be using it again here shortly. Making it to your inner thigh on your right leg, he sets it back down on the bed before starting on your left leg. He licks his tongue through your folds, earning a light gasp from you. He looks up to find you looking down at him with your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. He smiles and places a kiss to your still sensitive clit before he kisses his way up your body. Coming up your abdomen and to the valley your breasts, he pauses and pulls away slightly.

He puts on his thinking and rubs his chin with his index finger and thumb. “Hmmm..” He hums. “Which one do I want?” He shrugs shoulders and leans back down to envelope your right nipple in his mouth while he palms your left one in his hand and gently massages it.

He leaves your left breast and slides his hand down your body, first squeezing your hip and then dipping his hand between your legs. Though he probably could have done this first, he missed being intimate with you just as much as you had, so he couldn't help but dive straight into the fucking. Or love making, actually.

And he’ll do it again too. To hell with the foreplay. He loves being shoved so deep inside of you and nudging all the right places just so he can hear those little sounds you make when he does.

He pauses the circular motion of his fingers on your clit and releases your right breast from his mouth. Pulling away completely, he climbs off the bed and goes over to his things on the other side of the room and retrieves his personal camera.

“For my eyes only,” He says as he turns it on.

Instantly popping up, the last photo he took with his camera was one of you that he snapped without you noticing. You were fully naked and walking in the direction away from the camera. Your arms were raised as you were stretching and lifting your hair just slightly. He zoomed in on your ass, biting his bottom lip as he stared at the red hand print visible from when he smacked your ass as he pounded himself into you. That was the night before the two of you took off for Paris. After coming home late that night, he still felt a little twinge of remorse for missing the dinner date and he knew presenting you with the trip to Paris was not going to fully make up for it. So he fucked you, there was no love making it. He did everything to pleasure you, even when you begged him to be rough on you.

You missed him so much then as much as he missed you. He remembers having you on your hands and knees and he was railing himself into you, not worried about the pain you might be in the next day. He was fully prepared to have to carry you around if he needed to. The smack of his palm against your ass has the blood rushing to his cock.

But he’s being pulled from that memory when he hears you calling his name and the warmth of your hand enveloping his cock. “Are you looking at her photos?”

“If by her, you mean you? Then yes.” He turns the camera to face you showing the naked photo of you. He winks at you and kisses your forehead. “That night was amazing.” He pulls away from you, the warmth of your hand leaving his cock as he sinks down to the mattress and spreads his legs. “Pop a squat.” When you have yourself straddling his waist, he looks into the mirror and adjusts your legs around his body until he has them just the way he wants them. “Perfect.”

He lays your head on his shoulder and moves your hair to the right spot. When he is satisfied with how the two of you look in the mirror, he brings his camera up, blocking both of your faces with it, and snapping a few photos.

“We look so good together,” He says as he looks through the photos. He lowers the camera and looks at you. “You are stunning and I couldn’t be luckier.”

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” He pecks your lips and sets his camera off to the side as he deepens the kiss. “And if you are pregnant? I would definitely be the luckiest man in the world.” He topples you both over and reaches above you to flick off the lamp.

______________________________________________________________

If you are not already on my general tag list and would like to be added, please let me know!! ♡ (apologies if your user is not highlighted, tumblr doesn't like to highlight all of them for some reason)

@watchingover-hypegirl @losfacedevil @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @writingcold @jaketlove @mackalah @lexii-nv-c @em-gvf01 @katiegvf @joshkiszkaenthusiast @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasmommy @objectsinspvce @gvfmarge @heckingfrick @bluemeadows77 @laneygvf @sacredmachine @gvfpal @killerqueengvf @jaketlover @jordinlkiszka @alwaysonthemend @hellowgoodbye @anythingforjtk @hi-hi-hello11 @anthemofgvf @gretasfallingsky @songbirds-sweet @wildbluesorbit @klarxtr @stardustsecret @sunandthemoontwinflames @everyglowinthetwilightknows @devilat-thedoor @sparrowofthedawnsworld @josh-iamyour-mama @dannys-dream @peaceloveunitygvf @dayumclarizzel @thetroublegetssoloud71 @jakebrainrot @gretavanfleetmichelle @hollyco @its-interesting-van-kleep @tinydancer40 @edgingthedarkness @i-love-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @katuschka @sammysstolenbirks @asendingtothestarsasone @fleetingjake @emojakekiszka @literal-dead-leaf @klarxtr

#black smoke #photographer!jake #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #gvf

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hippiegoth97 · 3 months ago

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Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 21

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 20

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescurtainbangz @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @usergeta @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smoking, mentions of smut/teasing, mentions of blood, angst, crying, arguing, mentions of a past abusive relationship, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 7k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 21: Bad Blood

Sunday, June 18th, 1989

"Mom, Dusty, we're home!" You call into the house as you and Eddie walk through the front door on Sunday afternoon. The drive home felt much shorter than the trip to Michigan City, which both of you are very thankful for. You set your bags by the door, having already said goodbye to Wayne for the day. Eddie shuts the door, and you hear movement in the kitchen. You go over to see Mom digging around in the fridge, pulling out various ingredients to start a crockpot dinner.

"Hey, sugarpuff! How was your trip?" She asks, still scavenging the refrigerator. Dustin comes down the hall, holding Arwen in his arms.

"Hey, guys! Somebody missed you!" He says, handing you the kitten. She meows loudly, nuzzling herself against your chest and immediately purring.

"Hello there, little one. And the trip was fine, Mom." You casually reply to your mother's question, giving Arwen some scratches all the while.

"Oh, how did the visit at the prison go?" Mom continues, with no attempt to hide her concerned tone.

"It went as well as you'd expect. Wilfred Munson is one miserable bastard." Eddie answers for you, bringing his fingers up to wiggle in Arwen's face to get her attention. Her big gray eyes find them immediately, and she takes a small lunge to latch onto them with her teeth. "Ouch!" He yelps, pulling away. Blood begins to bead from the small punctures she made, and you tut at Eddie's pained expression.

"Oh, baby. It's okay. She's only playing. Kittens are big biters sometimes. Here, let's get you cleaned up." You hand the cat back to Dustin for a minute, leading Eddie to the bathroom.

"Are you sure she doesn't hate me, Y/N?" Eddie asks, a twinge of sadness in his voice. He's never had a pet before, so he doesn't know how to take his first one biting him like that. He thinks the cat is upset with him, when that couldn't be further from the truth.

"No, Eddie. She loves you, I promise. She’s excited to see us back home, that's all. If anything, it means she’s happy to see you." You insist, opening the medicine cabinet to pull out the bactine and some small bandages. You take a q-tip from the bowl on the counter, soaking it in the disinfectant. You dab the small wounds on his fingertips.

"Ow, shit." Eddie grits his teeth as the liquid stings his bites.

"Just relax. We're almost done." You wipe away the blood and excess cleanser, and wrap the bandages around his digits. You place light kisses on the pads of each of them, letting him out of your grasp. He still looks a bit unsure about the situation, which makes your heart ache a little. You suppose he feels betrayed by Arwen, in a way. "Believe me, Eds. You'll know when she's pissed off." You insist, hoping he'll chill out a little.

"I know. I'll just have to get used to that, I guess." He nods his head, putting away the thought of failing at being a good cat dad.

"You'll get the hang of it in no time." You give him a gentle kiss on the lips, and you both head back to the kitchen.

"Everything okay, Eddie? You sounded a little upset earlier." Mom asks when you return to the room, pressing the issue further.

"Yeah, I'm fine. My dad just...did what he always does. But it's over now, we won't be going back. And thanks to Y/N, I don't need to be afraid of him anymore." Eddie replies, wrapping his arm around your waist as you lean together against the counter. He gives you a warm smile, and you mirror it. It means so much to hear him say that. You finally feel like you're reciprocating the massive amount of support he's always given you in your time of need.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. I wish you two could've patched things up. Some people just don't take the chance when it's given to them. It's his loss, and you did everything you could, I'm sure." She says, giving him a meaningful, sympathetic look.

"Well said, Ms. Henderson." Eddie replies.

"Oh, stop with the formalities! You've seen me at some of my lowest points, Eddie. Please, call me Claudia." She chuckles, shaking her head at his over-politeness.

"Sure thing, Claudia." He grins, happy to be in your mother's good graces again.

"What was it like at the prison?" Dustin pipes up after being silent for so long. He brings Arwen over a second time, and this time Eddie takes the initiative to hold her.

"Hey there, cutie." Eddie coos to her, and she immediately melts against his chest. "Aw, there we go. That's what I was waiting for." He laughs lightly, confirming what you said earlier. That Arwen does, in fact, love him as much as she loves you. "And to answer your question, Dustin, the prison was about exactly what you'd expect. Huge, gray, full of criminals in orange jumpsuits. Dad was kept in the infirmary. He can't even get out of bed anymore."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Dustin replies, his gaze falling to the floor.

"Don't be. He put himself there, and that's where he's gonna spend whatever miserable sliver of life he's got left. Any day now, he'll kick the proverbial bucket. And then, not even the prison nurse will have to deal with him anymore." Eddie explains, hoping to ease the kid's mind.

"Your father sounds like a real piece of work, Eddie. I'm glad I've never met the man, or I'd be giving him a piece of my mind." Mom says with clear disdain for a man she's never seen before. But she's far from wrong. Wilfred Munson is one of the few people in the world that's more useful dead as opposed to alive.

"I appreciate that, Claudia, really." He clears his throat, wanting to change the subject. "So, what did you two get up to while we were gone?"

"Oh, uh, not much. I read one of my romance novels, and Dusty had a couple friends over. Michael, Maxine, and the Sinclairs." Mom replies matter-of-factly.

"Romance, huh? Sounds pretty spicy, now I really know where Y/N gets her fire from." Eddie quips with a smirk in your direction, making Mom laugh heartily.

"Eddie." You whine in embarrassment, smacking his arm.

"Ewww." Dustin interjects, making fake gagging sounds.

"Oh, Dusty, calm down. You don't need to be so repulsed by adult talk, you technically are one now." Mom says to your brother, finding his aversion to anything romantic a bit odd. Back when he dated Suzie, all he could talk about was what a great kisser she was, among other things. She misses those days, hoping that maybe another girl will come along and steal his heart of gold. Anyone would be lucky to have him, he's such a sweet boy. Dustin doesn't respond, only crossing his arms in a small pout. She shakes her head at his moody attitude, it's nothing that can't be fixed with a bowl of Mom's famous chili.

"Well, anyway, we’re gonna hang out in my room until dinner." You say, eager to get out of this awkward conversation. Mom really needs to get some friends her own age, but she's never really bonded well with the mothers of any of your friends, or Dustin's. She keeps to herself a lot, devoting almost all her spare time to her children.

"Okay, kiddos. I'll call you down when it's ready." Mom says, opening cans of beans and diced tomatoes to pour into the crockpot. You go to the front to get your bags, and walk with Eddie and Arwen to your bedroom.

"Need me to put anything in the wash, Eds?" You ask, opening your own bag to dig out your dirty clothes to toss in the hamper.

"Oh, yeah, I'll dig 'em out in a sec." He replies, setting the kitten down on the bed. Once he adds his own garments to the pile, you take the basket to the laundry closet and pour them into the washing machine. You can see into your room as you work, finding Eddie laying casually in your bed. His legs are crossed over each other, and his luscious hair messily splays about the pillows. Arwen's laying on his chest, happily accepting ear scratches while Eddie coos cutesy phrases to her. You can't help grinning at the domestic image. They're both so perfect, and they're all yours. You finish putting in the soap and close the lid, starting the wash cycle.

"You two are so adorable." You beam as you join your little family on the bed. You nuzzle your head into the crook of Eddie's neck, and lay sideways to snuggle up to him. You gently stroke Arwen's rump, her gray eyes meeting yours. She rolls over onto her back, waiting for you to stroke her soft tummy.

"Mew." She says, showing off her itty bitty teeth and little pink tongue as she demands attention.

"She sure knows how to ask for what she wants. Just like her mother." Eddie chuckles lightly, turning his head to softly kiss your cheek.

"Damn straight." You giggle at his supple lips tickling your face. "You excited to go back to work tomorrow?" You question unseriously.

Eddie snorts at you asking, you know perfectly well that he doesn't enjoy working at all. "No, I'd rather stay home with you all day."

"I know, love. I'd prefer that, too. But it's not so bad, there's worse jobs out there. Plus, having me there must make it a little bit better, right?"

"You make everything better, princess." He says sweetly, gazing at you with loving eyes.

"I'm glad you think so, Eds. You make everything pretty great, too, ya know." You reach forward to boop his nose, one of the many things you do that Eddie finds utterly adorable.

"Oh, did I tell you someone new is starting at the theater tomorrow?" He asks, bursting the affectionate bubble you've been contentedly floating around in.

"No. But I figured someone would have to take over for Dotty while she's away on her honeymoon, and starting her family. She's been looking forward to being a kept woman." You say with a laugh, remembering how ecstatic Dotty was telling you all about her plans for her house, how many kids she wants, and so on. It reminds you of just how anxious you are to get your own place with Eddie, and eventually marry him. You're just counting down the days at this point, waiting until you can tell him about the surprise you've been hiding for so long. "Do you know who it is?" You ask, leaning into your curiosity. You really hope they'll be as nice and cool as everyone else you've been working with. A newbie throwing off the work dynamic would be a real bummer for you.

"I have no idea. We'll just have to wait and see. I just hope they're not some lame-ass, or a total idiot. Those never last long." Eddie replies, turning his attention back to the kitten on his chest.

Monday, June 19th, 1989

The next morning, you and Eddie are working the concession stand together, waiting for this new employee to arrive. Jamie's out front in the ticket booth, and the others are in their usual spots. It's a slow day, Mondays always are. Summer school, day jobs, the swimming pool, all the things that keep most people away until the evening showings are in full swing. You've had a couple old-timers, and a small family or two for an early matinee. But other than that, it's been pretty dead.

"Ugh, I hate Mondays." You sigh, leaning against the candy counter. You've already rotated and restocked all the boxes of sweets, refilled the stacks of drink cups, and dumped out the stale popcorn for a fresh batch. There's nothing left to do at the present moment, and you're dying of boredom.

"You can say that again." Eddie mumbles from his spot against the wall. He checks his watch, 11:30. You've barely been here an hour and it feels like half a shift has passed already. You turn around to check the soda machine again, looking down below to see if anything is running low. Nope, every last bag is practically brand new, full of sticky syrup just waiting to mix with the carbonation. You stand back up, facing front once again. You lean on your elbows, your head falling forward in exasperation.

"Well, well. Long time no see, Henderson." You hear a familiar, male voice speaking to you from across the counter. A voice you'd hoped to never hear again, someone from your past you'd hoped to forget. You lift your head to find none other than Tommy Hagan, your ex-boyfriend, standing before you. It appears not much has changed as you inspect his smug face. His short brown hair is styled in its typical douchebag fashion, and he still has the smattering of freckles around his nose which extends sparsely to his cheeks. That stupid mouth full of pearly-white teeth beams at you, fixed in a permanent grin of superiority. But then you notice something else, he just so happens to be wearing the signature uniform of an employee of The Hawk. Vest, bow tie, and all.

Fuck, please tell me this is some kind of sick joke. "Hey, Tommy. I see you're joining our humble crew." You say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. His smile grows wider at you acknowledging his presence, he's always loved getting under your skin.

"Yeah, my old man was gettin' on me to 'learn the importance of money', so here I am. But I'm only slummin' it for the summer, then it's back to Stanford for me, baby." Tommy says with his usual air of self-importance. "So, how's community college been going for you?" He asks in a condescending tone.

"It's been great, I'm top of my class three years in a row. Going for a fourth in the fall." You reply shortly, and Eddie notices your discomfort. He sure as hell remembers Tommy H. from high school, he graduated with Harrington back in '85. The typical rich-kid asshole, throwing his weight around as he pleases. Eddie's always hated him with a burning passion. And he certainly doesn't like how personal this little fucker is getting with you. He's surprised you're so well-acquainted, Tommy doesn't seem like the kind of guy you'd hang around. Eddie walks over to stand by your side, drawing Tommy's judging eyes to him.

"Ah, Munson. I can't say I'm surprised to see you here. It was either this, or prison, just like your old man." Tommy says with a chuckle, and you both just roll your eyes at him.

"Well, some of us actually have to work for a living. Not everyone has the privilege of coasting through life on their daddy's dime." Eddie snarks, crossing his arms.

"Ooh, better be careful there. My father just so happens to be real tight with Mr. Biggs. Ya know, the guy who owns this place? I'd watch your mouth if you know what's good for you." Tommy replies, vaguely threatening your boyfriend's job for the sake of feeling powerful.

"God, that is so predictable of you, Hagan. Using your dad to get everything you want. What else is new?" You chime in, though you feel a bit immature for doing so. This whole conversation is ridiculously juvenile.

His eyes snap to you at your remarks, and he leans over real close to speak to you. "It was acceptable enough for you when we used to go out, sweetcheeks. The Porsche, the fancy restaurants, the shiny gifts I'd buy for you. All paid for by my old man. And it was more than enough to get you in the sack, wasn't it?" You wince at his words, you were hoping he wasn't going to bring up your past before you could tell Eddie on your own.

"Please tell me he's joking, Y/N. You didn't seriously go out with this asshole, did you?" Eddie asks, his eyes blown wide in disbelief. Tommy has got to be the exact antithesis of everything you stand for. There's no way you'd humor him with a single date, much less sleep with him. Right?

You look at Eddie cautiously, your cheeks burning bright red with shame. That tells him everything he needs to know, and he shakes his head at you. "Eddie, it was a long time ago. If you'd just let me explain一" You say slowly, knowing he's seconds away from blowing his top.

He scoffs, his heart sinking into his stomach. You try to step towards him, but he backs away from you. "I can't hear this right now. I-I need a minute." He gets out from behind the counter, storming off to the side doors. He feels sick to his stomach, the thought of you, and Tommy...it's just too much. Eddie knows deep down that he has no real reason to be upset, you're clearly embarrassed by it. But to think you'd entertain a jerk like that for a single second, he feels like he doesn't know you at all. He just needs to breathe, and get his mind and heart to stop racing. Once he does that, he'll give you a chance to explain yourself. Everything will be fine once you put it all into words. It has to be. He goes outside, leaving you alone with Tommy.

"Fuck! Real nice going, Tommy! Your first day and you're already causing drama! You're such a fucking child!" You shout at him, angry tears building up in your eyes. You're worried that with a single conversation, Tommy has totally derailed your relationship. Your internal organs twist in fear, and you just hope Eddie will give you a chance to tell your side of things. You wish you could erase that past relationship entirely, it was probably the worst summer of your life. Tommy may have been right to point out that he showered you with lavish things, but every single one had tangles of strings attached to them. And you had to cut yourself out, before they eventually wrapped around your neck and strangled you.

"What, is that freak your little boyfriend now?" He asks mockingly.

"Yes, he is. At least, he was. Until you came in here and did what you always do. You see a toy you can't play with anymore, so you do everything you can to break it." You retort, wishing you could leave this situation to go find Eddie. You hope he hasn't run off for the day, leaving you to fend for yourself with this asshole. Just give him time to cool off, I'm sure he'll understand, you think to yourself.

"Jesus, Y/N. Why would you waste your time on a guy like that? He's a total wastoid. What does he have that I don't?" Tommy asks, practically interrogating you.

"Well, first off, he doesn't cheat on me with every girl in town." You spit back, before continuing. "And he's kind, and sweet, he takes care of me. He actually cares about my interests and my feelings. Not to mention, he's way better in bed than you could ever hope to be." You really didn't want to go there, bringing up sexual performance like that is so childish. But honestly, it's one of the few things Tommy's pea-sized brain seems to understand. Funnily enough, his mind isn't the only thing that's much smaller than advertised.

"Don't tell me you actually love Eddie Munson!" He scoffs. Every single word out of his mouth makes you want to punch him. Just as you're about to reply, Eddie slowly approaches the concessions counter again. He realizes he overreacted a little, and he silently watches your heated exchange with Tommy. He just heard the jerk's last statement, and he waits to see your response.

"Of course I love him, Tommy! He means everything to me, and he doesn't treat me like a prize to be won! You could never understand that, and you probably never will. You'll just marry the first bimbo that says yes, and you'll be sorely disappointed when you realize what a heartless leech you are." You realize that with every single word, you're probably bringing yourself one step closer to being fired. But you can't help it. You aren't going to stand here and listen to Tommy badmouth Eddie like this, or to act like he somehow owns you. You notice Eddie standing off to the side, and your coworkers have come out to see what the shouting is all about. Jamie comes in from the ticket booth, Milo slinks his way over from the projection room. And worst of all, Harriet and Mr. Biggs step out of their office to find you screaming at their new employee.

"Just what in the hell is going on here?" Mr. Biggs bellows, expecting a quick and concise explanation for your outburst. He's never seen you act in such a way, but he certainly doesn't take kindly to workplace dramatics.

"Mr. Biggs, Tommy has been completely rude to me and to Y/N from the second he walked in here. He's made Y/N very upset, sir." Eddie explains with his arms crossed, hoping you won't be thrown out on your ass.

"Tommy, is this true?" Mr. Biggs curls an eyebrow at the young man. He knew from the second Jack Hagan asked him to give his son a job, that it was a very bad idea. The kid is a brat, plain and simple. But Jack is pretty affluent in this town, and could very easily suggest to his powerful friends that the Hawk isn't as upstanding of an establishment as they originally thought. Any kind of rumor like that could kill his business, so he has to keep this stupid child happy.

Tommy looks back at the man with an expression that says 'you bet your ass it is, but there's nothing you can do about it'. "No, sir. I wouldn't dream of it. It sounds like Y/N here is having a hard time getting over me. That's all." He shrugs, meeting your gaze again. He's still wearing that stupid shit-eating grin, knowing he'll get away with this.

"You're such a fucking liar!" Eddie shouts, and he almost lunges at Tommy. Luckily, Jamie and Milo hold him back.

"Dude, chill! There's people in the theater! Calm down!" Jamie says to him as he struggles to maintain control. Eddie continues flailing his arms and kicking his legs to break free from their grasp.

"Better get a handle on your little boyfriend, Y/N. I'd hate for Eddie to get himself thrown in the clink like his father." Tommy prods further, feeding the flames of conflict.

"Shut the fuck up, Tommy! He wouldn't be trying to kick your ass if you weren't acting like such a dick!" You shout back. You just want him to stop, you want all of this to stop. But his sickening grin tells you he's enjoying this far too much to give up now.

Mr. Biggs sighs, already regretting who's side he's going to pick in this altercation. Tommy is clearly in the wrong, but his hands are tied. "I won't tolerate this kind of behavior in my theater, you two. Mr. Hagan is going to work here, whether you like it or not. So you'd better calm down, or you can find a new place to work."

You and the others make various noises of shock and disgust. Of course this jerkoff is gonna side with Tommy. "You can't be serious, Biggs! The kid is being a total dickwad. Y/N and Eddie are good workers. They don't act like this for no reason!" Jamie comes to your defense, but it's clearly no use. Even Harriet is giving Biggs a disappointed glare, shaking her head as he gives in to petty peer-pressure.

"I don't care! I will not have fights breaking out in my place of business. Now, I strongly suggest you put your childish squabbling aside, and try to work together as a team. And if any of you don't like it, you're more than welcome to walk right out that door and never come back!" Mr. Biggs puts his foot down, pointing at the front doors to signal as a final warning.

You look at Eddie, who's still trying to break out of your coworkers' hold. Fury flares within his eyes, he's just waiting for the opportunity to lay his hands on Tommy. You wish you could let him. Or that you could just quit and call it a day. But you can't do that, you both really need this job. You need all the money coming in that you can get, especially if you want to move in together in a couple months. You know it's going to be absolute hell to work with your ex, but you can't let petty feelings get in the way of your responsibilities. You walk over to your rabid boyfriend, and you put your hands on his shoulders to get his attention. "Eds?" You ask softly, a few frustrated tears running down your face.

"What?" He replies, still giving you the look of disappointment and disgust he adopted once Tommy let the cat out of the bag.

"Can you please calm down? We don't have to be his friend, but we shouldn't let him win. We're better than that, right?" You speak calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You seriously expect me to work with him, after all those things he said to you?" He asks, his jaw tightening with every word. He doesn't know what to do. On the one hand, he knows you're right. Letting a brat like Tommy get under his skin so easily doesn't look so good on his part. And he really does need the money. But on the other hand, Tommy has been nothing but unkind to the both of you from the get-go. Not only that, but Eddie's concerned that he might try to make moves on you. And he will not stand for that. It's not to say he doesn't trust you, of course he does. Clearly, you don't feel anything but regret when it comes to this jerkoff. But he still worries, as there had to be something about him that was enough to draw you in.

"Eddie, I know he's a jerk. But we both need this job, for our future." He doesn't respond, only rolling his eyes at you. You let out a long sigh, as you don't know how to convince him to stay. "Look, if you really want to, we can walk out of here right now. But I don't think it would be fair to either of us, or to the others." Despite your best judgment, you're still giving him an easy way out if that's what he wants. It's a lot to ask him to put up with your ex, especially one who's so fucking arrogant.

Eddie considers your words carefully, and he appreciates you still giving him the option to throw in the towel. Your consideration for his feelings means a lot to him. He supposes the least he can do is try to be the bigger person. None of you are in high school anymore, you can all let this silly shit go and grow up. Can’t you? He takes a deep breath, ceasing his flailing. He nods at you, before addressing the room. "Alright, I'll play nice. For Y/N's sake." He directs his attention at Tommy again. "But you are gonna keep your shitty little comments to yourself. You leave Y/N alone, and we won't have a problem. Got it?" Eddie says, his tone laced with vicious warning. He's not fucking around, Tommy better watch himself if he doesn't want his ass handed to him.

"Fair enough, Munson. You've staked your claim, and I'm not one to go after another man's lay." Tommy says, getting in that last little jab at you before calling a truce. His eyes flick to you on his final word, his grin growing wider when your face scrunches at his insult.

"Okay, that's settled, then. Everyone, let's get back to work." Mr. Biggs says, clapping his hands together to get your attention. "Jamie, you'll train Tommy. I don't think the others are up to the task today. Eddie, I need you to spruce up Frank's seat in the mezzanine. And Y/N, you stay on concessions until Jamie finishes showing Tommy the ticket booth, and then you'll switch. Sound good?"

"Sure thing, sir. Thank you." You reply, nodding to accept the terms. You're glad he's kind enough to separate you all for a while, as that's probably best to avoid another fight breaking out. You take Eddie's hands in yours for a moment as the boys finally release him to attend to their own tasks. Jamie leads Tommy outside, and Milo trudges up the steps to the projector. Harriet and Mr. Biggs head back to their office, leaving you two alone for a moment. "You gonna be okay, Eds?" You ask, worried that he's still upset with you.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I just need some time alone. But thank you for talking me down, and I'm sorry for getting so upset with you. Talk later?" Eddie replies, gazing at your eyes apologetically.

"Of course, baby. I'm sure you've got questions, and I'll happily answer them. I'll see you on break, okay?" You give him a quick peck on the lips, and your heart soars when he reciprocates it. Your body relaxes, and you realize you're going to be alright after all.

"'Kay. I'd better get upstairs. I love you, angel." He nudges his head behind him to the staircase, rubbing his thumbs over your fingers as he doesn't want to let go. It's gonna be hard to wait to hear your side of things. There's no doubt in his mind that some jealousy-fueled images of you and Tommy will be swirling inside his head while he works in solitude.

"I love you too." You regretfully let go of his hands, allowing him to attend to his new assignment. He goes up the narrow staircase to the balcony, his slim body disappearing behind the heavy door at the top. You're left all alone in the lobby now, the buzz of the various food-service machines being the only sound to keep you company. You let out a large puff of air through blown-out cheeks, and wipe away the salty tracks from below your eyelids. Today is probably the hardest day you've ever worked, and it's not even because of unruly customers or the Coke nozzle getting clogged again.

About thirty minutes later, Jamie comes inside with Tommy. You take that as your cue to hide out in the ticket booth until break time. Jamie gives you a concerned look as you cross paths, and you nod your head lightly to let him know you're okay. You open the door and step out into the summer heat, finding refuge in the air-conditioned hut where Mr. Biggs assigned you. You plop down onto the little stool inside the booth, waiting for customers to approach you. You look out at the street, watching cars roll by down the road sluggishly, in no rush at all to get to where they're going. The sky above is bright and blue, with a few clouds spread across it like smudges of paint. You glance at your watch, just barely one o'clock. You've still got hours to go, and all you can stand to do is count down the minutes.

Cascading thoughts rush like a waterfall across your mind as you sell tickets to the occasional group of teens, or single mother with her child. You're zoned out, working on autopilot. You can't stop thinking about your relationship with Tommy. Snapshots of the good, bad, and ugly keep popping up left and right. On top of all of this, you're wondering how your talk with Eddie is going to go. What will he ask? Will he get upset with you again? Will he snap and go after Tommy when you tell him what the asshole did to you? Will he leave you if he doesn't like what you have to say? That last question makes your stomach turn, irrational as it may be. Exes are a tricky subject in relationships, and even if he asks to hear every last detail, there's no telling how well he'll actually take it. You suddenly hear a light knocking on the door behind you, startling you out of your uneasy thoughts.

"Y/N, it's time for our break. I think the shithead is gonna take over for you." You hear Eddie's voice on the other side of the door, and you hop out of your seat to go to him. You open the door, and immediately put your arms around him. You feel like you haven't seen him in days, squeezing his torso tightly. He pulls you in real close, it's obvious he's been struggling just as much as you have. "C'mon, sweetheart. Let's go sit in the van for a bit." He says softly, pulling back from your clinging hug to take your hand. You follow his lead, trailing along silently to the parking lot across the street. You climb into your side, and Eddie gets in the driver's seat. It's pretty warm inside the van, but you need somewhere private to talk.

You both sit awkwardly for a while, neither of you daring to disturb the quiet. You aren't even looking at each other. Every passing second makes it harder and harder to force any words out. At a certain point, you sense Eddie staring at you. You guess he wants you to speak first. "What do you wanna know?" You lift your head to meet his gaze, waiting for his questions to begin.

"When did you date him?" He starts off simple, not wanting you to feel like he's interrogating you.

"The summer after graduation. He had taken a gap year before he went off to Stanford. We ran into each other downtown, and he asked me out. He seemed...different from how he was in high school, so I said yes." You answer, watching his features closely to see any change in them. Thankfully you don't, he's just listening and taking it all in.

"How long did you go out with him?"

"Three months." You cringe as you remember just how much time you wasted on Tommy.

"What was he like?" He continues, getting into the deeper questions.

"Exactly like you'd expect. He would play nice at first, spoil me with flowers and jewelry, and take me on fancy dates. But it was all an act to get what he wanted." Your breath catches at the thought. Tommy really was quite a charmer at first. Calling you sweet names, giving you presents and loving kisses. He made you feel special, and wanted. But as the saying goes, if something sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

"And what did he want?" Eddie asks, though he can take a wild guess at what the answer is.

"I think you know what he wanted, Eddie." You say softly, looking away from him as you start to cry again. Tommy was, to put it lightly, annoyingly selfish in bed. He'd get everything he wanted out of you, barely putting any effort into getting you off in return. Although, you imagine he couldn't do it even if he really tried. Eddie takes hold of your hand, drawing your gaze to him once more. His eyes beg you to continue, as he can tell there's something else to the story. "And whenever I made him angry, or didn't do exactly what he asked, he'd call me mean names, or threaten to leave me and take everything back."

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." He says softly, his heart aching at how distraught this day, and this talk, has made you.

"That's not the worst of it, Eds." You shake your head, pressing on despite your trembling lip. "He cheated on me the entire time we were together. And when I caught him, he blamed me for not keeping him satisfied. It was then that I realized what an idiot I had been, and I broke it off. Of course, he came banging on my door the next day to take back every gift he'd given me. I didn't want them anyway, I gladly threw every single one in his fucking face." You finish speaking, falling into an uncontrollable fit of tears. It's been so long since you'd even thought about Tommy, to see him again has reopened every last wound he's inflicted on you. He's even managed to make a couple more while he's at it.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. C'mere." Eddie gently pulls you from your seat, taking you into his lap. You shove your head against his chest, your wails growing louder despite becoming muffled by his shirt. You're shaking like a leaf, and Eddie holds you close with his strong arms. "Baby, it's okay. Tommy's a terrible, terrible person. Nobody should ever treat you that way. You deserve so much better, my love. And I'm gonna show you that every single day, I promise." He coos lovingly to you, rocking you back and forth in his embrace. A couple tears of his own escape his eyes, all he can see now is flashes of Tommy treating you like crap. He wants to storm back into the theater and fucking kill him, make the little twerp feel every ounce of pain he's caused you. "I love you so much, baby." He says through a sniffle, quickly wiping his eyes.

"I love you too, Eddie." You whimper against his chest, the words vibrating through him. Your arms latch around his waist, not wanting to let go. You were really worried that you'd lost him for a minute there. But you're so glad he understands, of course he does. He's Eddie, your perfect man. He always listens, and he trusts you above anyone else. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

"Don't be sorry, angel. I shouldn't have overreacted earlier, I was just in shock. And you don't owe me anything, okay? Exes aren't exactly something you talk about in relationships, except for times like this, I guess." Eddie insists that you've done nothing wrong. He hasn't told you about any of his own exes, so it wouldn't be fair to expect you to confess to yours. He continues to hold you for a while, still swaying you to and fro. You slowly calm down, your breathing steadies, and your tears eventually dry up. You feel very comfortable in his arms, not wanting to leave. But your internal clock is telling you it's almost time to get back to work. "You gonna be okay, babydoll?" He asks, needing to check on you as you've gone quiet again.

"Yeah. I could use a smoke, though." You lift your head to look at him, and he tuts at your red, puffy face. Your eyes are wet and bloodshot, and you look so tired. Oh, Y/N, my sweet girl. I hate to see you so sad.

"You got it, love. Anything you want." He reaches into his pocket for his cigarettes, pulling two out of the slightly squashed pack. You take one from him, putting it between your lips. Eddie does the same, and flicks his lighter to ignite them both. You take a deep inhale, the nicotine quickly melting your troubles away.

"Fuck, I really needed this." You sigh, exhaling the smoke in a large cloud. It flows across Eddie's face, but he doesn't seem to mind.

"I know, princess. Is there...anything else you need?" He asks, unsure of what else he can do to make you feel better. You may have stopped crying, but your sullen mood still reads all over your features. Tommy really did a number on you, and it'll take more than a crying fit and a smoke to ease the pain.

"Maybe...some ice cream after work?" You ask with a small smile. A sugar overload would be fantastic right about now.

"Sounds perfect, sweetheart." Eddie grins, he's totally up for going to town on a hot fudge sundae. "We should finish up and go back inside. We'll be on concessions together again." He says, taking his final drag and stubbing out his spent butt in the ashtray.

"I really don't wanna go back in there." You whine, finishing your own cigarette shortly after him.

"It's just a couple more hours, Y/N. I'll be with you the whole time, and then we can get some ice cream, and go home...and maybe have some amazing sex. If you're a good girl for me, that is." Eddie smirks as he offers you all the motivation you need to go back inside and finish your shift. He bites his lip seductively, squeezing your hips.

"For all that? I'll be the best girl in the whole wide world for you, Eds." You reply with a smile, leaning in to press your lips to his. You slip your tongue inside his mouth with ease, only teasing him for a few seconds. Just enough to rile him up for later. You hum a laugh against him as you feel an erection forming in his pants, pulling away as you've accomplished your small mission. "C'mon, love. We've got a shift to finish." You stir in his lap, making him let out a low groan. A little extra torture never hurt anyone, all it does is make Eddie go absolutely crazy on you when the time is right. His lust-blown eyes meet yours, and the needy look on his face causes a small amount of arousal to spread between your legs.

"These last few hours can't go by fast enough." He says breathlessly. It's taking everything in him to resist the temptation to say 'fuck it', and toss you in the back of the van to have his way with you right now.

"Good things come to those who wait, baby." You giggle innocently, hopping off his lap to exit the van.

He follows suit, letting you walk ahead of him so he can watch your gorgeous ass sway with every step. Damn, I'm gonna be half-hard all day now. Get ready, sweetheart, you're really in for it when we get home. Eddie thinks to himself while awkwardly gripping his crotch to adjust his pants.

To be continued…

#fanfiction #hippiegoth97 #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you

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fuzzkaizer · 6 months ago

Text

Systech - overdrive

"Have you ever played a pedal that stuck with you forever, even though you knew in your heart it was totally weird, and nobody famous ever used it? For me, yeah, tons of them. But if I had to pick one that best fit these criteria, this one would be it. This is the Systech Overdrive. Before we dive in, let’s talk a little about where it was made.

There was a time when, of all places, Kalamazoo Michigan was an epicenter for musically related things. Apart from being a city referenced by Looney Tunes and the hometown of Glen Miller’s gal, Kalamazoo had the Sound Factory, which was a collective of sorts that featured guitar luthiery, a recording studio and electronic gear manufacturing. The facility sat front and center on Kalamazoo Avenue, smack dab in the middle of the city, and attracted visitors from all over.

Of course, if it was some random outpost of nobodies, the name wouldn’t carry any weight. However, the Sound Factory was shored up by three relatively heavy hitters of the early ‘70s. One such was Greg Hochman, Keith Emerson’s Moog technician. He was joined by Bryce Roberson, otherwise known as Uncle Dirty of Chess Records fame and a relatively unknown person named Charlie Wicks. If you’ve been reading this column for a while, you’ll recognize him as the man behind ProCo—the Ratfather.

Together, these three developed Systech, which itself was short for “Systems & Technology in Music, Inc.” That mouthful of a company was responsible for the Harmonic Energizer, a little-known yet highly influential effect that provided a deep filtered sound in addition to some crunchy drive and sharp resonant peaks. You might know it as one of Frank Zappa’s signature pieces. And while this Overdrive effect wasn’t that, it was derived from the Harmonic Energizer and shares a handful of characteristics.

Basically, if dialed in just the right way, the Harmonic Energizer will make short work of an entire speaker cabinet and anyone in the audience. This is because it was designed to provide a staggering gain of 55dB, enough to cause serious damage to your gear or hearing. The Overdrive was created to get some of those tones at non speaker-shredding levels.

If you’re thinking this unit is some kind of proto-Tube Screamer, think again. Because this was the early ‘70s, nobody had really decided exactly what “overdrive” meant. And though Maestro (coincidentally, also in Kalamazoo) had created one of almost every effect under the sun, pedal fever wasn’t quite here just yet, so Systech was essentially “winging it.” With that said, the Overdrive is actually a pretty aggressive fuzz sound. And to that end, the fuzz circuit is pretty unique. The entire affair contains two transistors—one a JFET input buffer—and one dual op-amp with a handful of other components. Even the topology is relatively simple, but the simplicity ends with the schematic.

The EQ control works unlike pretty much any EQ control you’ve ever fiddled with; as much an EQ as the whole unit is an overdrive. Instead of a simple tonal adjustment, the EQ control is actually an active bandpass filter, in the same family as a wah circuit. With a simple twist of a knob, you can adjust this filter from 122Hz to 900Hz. As you might imagine, the EQ control sounds relatively cocked-wah-esque, but the sound is much more aggressive than any wah on the market before or since. The reason has to do with the Q factor, essentially a bandwidth control. A wah’s Q is set by its 33K resistor and is much wider than that of the Overdrive, so the tone is a little more rounded. While a wah’s filter is a rubber mallet, the Systech Overdrive’s is a tack hammer. While the sound is curious, the thing really comes to life when you crank the EQ control, as it gives you a nice punch in the mids. You lose a little definition when you get to the bottom third, but man is it fun to play with.

“Distortion” is just what it sounds like, but curiously enough, “Gain” is about as close to a volume knob as you’re going to get. Much like Distortion, if you turn it all the way down it kills the entire signal, but it sits behind a final gain stage. If you have the guts to crank both Distortion and Gain, you’re richly rewarded with gobs of gooey sustain, but the flipside is that your amp is likely screaming “uncle.” Worth it? Your call. I say go for it.

Many people say Zappa used a Systech Overdrive, but alas, he did not. However, when you play it, you can definitely see the similarities between this unit and the fabled Harmonic Energizer. But as far as I’m concerned, it’s close enough for rock and roll."

cred: catalinbread.com/blogs/kulas-cabinet/systech-overdrive

#systech #overdrive #fuzz #kulas cabinet

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luvhughes43 · 13 days ago

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Oh. Ohhhh. The Blake and Nico lake house fight and angst I need immediately !!!!! My heart clenched

blake pulls back her side of the duvet and watches as nico slides in on the other side. they had spent all day around michigan, blake wanting to show nico all of her favourite spots that she missed while they were in jersey.

"and tomorrow, i thought we could go get lunch. my mom says theres this new spot in town and-"

nico sighs, shifting to sit up in bed. "i'm here to see the guys too, not just you"

blake anxiously toys with her pillow case as a harsh lump forms in her throat, "oh... yeah of course," she nods, trying to will away the tears that form in her eyes. she knew she was being extra clingy lately, missing her boyfriend that had been gone for a couple of months.

"i just-" nico starts, but blake turns away.

"no its fine - youre right," her voice is breathy, and nico can tell shes on the verge of tears. "i um,"

"blake-" nico shuffles out of bed.

she shakes her head quickly, "i think theyre going golfing tomorrow"

"i want to go to lunch," he amends, but its no use. blake stays silent.

"i'm sorry, i didnt mean it like that" nico says, eyebrows cast down in worry.

"its okay," her voice comes out squeaky, and she retreats back into her bathroom before he could get any more words out.

────୨ৎ────

blake stayed in the bathroom until she was sure nico had fallen asleep. she brushed her teeth four times, reapplied her moisturizer with shaky hands, and dabbed at the corner of her eyes with heavy tissues.

she woke up early too. slipping out of her bed and tiptoeing around her bedroom - extra quiet to try not to wake up nico. she got dressed in the dark, using her phone flashlight to try and put together anything that matched.

she was out of the house by dawn with nothing but her purse and her gym bag slung across her shoulder.

nico❤️‍🩹: can we talk about this? i'm so sorry. i didnt mean it how i said it. i love you, please text me back or call

7:38 am

blake: we'll talk later. enjoy golf

7:50am

blake silenced her phone. she recognized how childish she was being as she acted, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. if she was clingy she'd disappear for the day.

────୨ৎ────

blake pulls into the driveway later that night clad in her sweaty workout gear. she doesnt greet anyone as she passes through a group of guys congregated in the living room - all fighting over a turn to play the next round of chel.

nico perks up as soon as he catches sight of her long brown hair, "blake!" he calls out, following her through the hallway.

"baby," he tries again, and blake turns around.

"did you have a fun day?" she asks, genuinely sounding interested.

"dont do this,"

"do what?" she sighs, dropping her gym bag onto the wooden floor with a thud. "you dont want me to ask how your day was either?"

"you know thats not what i meant yesterday," nico states, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. truthfully, he was ashamed by what he said last night.

"well, what did you mean?" she says, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.

"i...''

blake picks up her bag and stalks up the stairs with nico hot on her heels. "where were you all day?" he asks.

she simply sighs. "i was out,"

"i'm sorry,"

"yeah, i heard"

nico stops at the bedroom doorway, watching silently as blake sets down her bag and rummages through her dresser drawers. "blake,"

finally, blake turns her attention to her boyfriend who looked about as rough as she did. they stare at each other for a moment, and tears well up in blakes eyes. she wipes them away quickly but nico sees anyway.

he walks over quickly and wraps his arms around her, desperate to hold onto her after such a tense day.

"please dont," she whispers, wiggling against his hold. he drops his arms quickly and watches as she walks away.

#blake hughes au

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redistrictgirl · 1 month ago

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The Case For Kamala Harris 20 Days Out

Nate Silver just crowned former President Trump the (microscopically narrow) favorite. Morning Consult is showing Democrats losing Wisconsin. So why has my model consistently given Harris an edge and what are the arguments that she'll win on November 5th?

Trump's path to victory is narrow. On paper, a three-point edge in the popular vote is smack dab in the middle of the last two very close elections. Tossup, right? But let's say the 2016 coalitions voted again in an environment one point bluer - Harris wins. Let's say the 2022 coalitions repeat in a much better national environment - Harris comfortably beats Trump. Let's say trends continue based on 2020 - it's called on Tuesday night. Trump basically needs his exact 2020 coalition or something slightly better to win in a D+3 environment. It could happen, but a lot would have to break against Harris with not much breaking for her.

Early voting stats are probably better for Democrats. Look, we don't have a complete picture yet, but early data from Pennsylvania and Michigan suggest there's more enthusiasm among Democrats compared to Republicans, while Georgia is a wash and Florida is pretty comfortably Trumpy. That's good news for Harris and suggests an efficient 2022-like coalition.

Harris still has an edge in state-level polls. Big-picture time, as close as they are, a political party would rather be seeing Democratic numbers in the Blue Wall than Republican numbers. They're not predictions, but polls tell us who is ahead in the moment, and Harris is ahead at the moment in enough states to reach 270 electoral votes.

Occam's Razor suggests a Harris win to me - the majority of the hard numbers point to her and it's hard to imagine the set of overarching trends that would cause her to falter without further movement towards Trump. But that's not the whole story either.

#us politics #uspol #election 2024 #us elections #kamala harris #donald trump

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localstonerbutch · 2 months ago

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Diamond sauce 🥵🥵 Merlin’s Nightshade 6% terps

#smoke dabs #fat dabs #dabsdaily #big dabs #dabsallday #420daily #420stoner #420girl #masc lesbian #butch #butch lesbian #lgbtq pride #dyke #masculine energy #pretty boy #zaza #michigan #butch appreciation

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offender42085 · 1 year ago

Photo

Post 0580

Kyle Steven Boldrey, Michigan inmate 423368, born 1991, incarceration intake in 2017 at age 25; earliest possible release August 2038, maximum discharge August 2066

Murder, 2nd Degree

In 2017, behind the prosecution table, 11 men and women quietly but palpably longed for the two missing men who they would never see again.

Behind the defense table, 11 men and women sat in support of a loved one at the beginning of many years of bars and cement block walls.

Between them stood a young man who, according to police and the prosecution, in 2016 ingested a drug and brutally murdered an elderly man and his own childhood friend.

Another hearing was held in February 2019, in which that afternoon, Kyle Boldrey, 26, was resentenced for the 2016 murders of Keith Atkinson and Trevor Hubbard, murders police said Boldrey committed while under the influence of a synthetic hallucinogen called 25i-NBOMe.

Judge Michael Mack of the 26th Circuit Court handed down a sentence of 22 to 50 years for each of two counts of second-degree murder, to be served concurrently.

The court already sentenced Boldrey once. In October 2017, Mack assigned Boldrey 25 to 50 years in prison, exceeding the recommended guidelines because of the brutality of the case.

Boldrey appealed the 2017 sentence, indicating that he had pleaded no contest under a misunderstanding about the number of years to which he could be sentenced. At the second hearing, Boldrey formally withdrew his plea and entered a second no-contest plea, this time under full understanding of what might lie in his future because of his decision in the past.

A no-contest plea is not an admission of guilt, but an admission that the charges cannot be fought. It is treated as a guilty plea for sentencing purposes.

At the heart of the crime was the hallucinogen 25i-NBOMe, known by it street name of “N-Bomb.” Now fallen out of favor, the drug had a spike in popularity four or five years ago, when it was sought out as a substitute for LSD, according to the Michigan Department of Health and Human Services. The drug sometimes leads to very extreme physical effects, with even minuscule amounts leading to seizures, cardiac and respiratory arrest, and death, according to the federal Drug Enforcement Administration.

Medical examiner reports studied by the DEA, as well as news items out of Britain and Australia, reveal stories of violent behavior leading to death as a result of ingestion of 25i. Teens and young adults have died when the drug caused them to burst into violence, flinging themselves at poles or walls or tearing up the inside of a vehicle before dying with very little internal evidence of the drug’s presence.

In Montmorency County in 2016, Boldrey decided to try 25i. The drug was given to him by Hubbard as they celebrated their upcoming adventures – Hubbard’s impending departure for college and Boldrey’s entry into the U.S. Air Force.

Shortly after ingestion, Boldrey exploded into a rage. He stabbed Hubbard and struck him with a vehicle, then broke into the home of Atkinson, who died trying to defended his wife, Debbie Wells, and Jeffrey Bauer, who was also in the home. Wells and Bauer survived but were beaten badly.

Eyes were dabbed with Kleenex on both sides of the courtroom at the second hearing as Boldrey gave a statement to the court before his sentencing. At his last sentencing, he said he tried to minimize his behavior, distancing himself from the thing he had done.

Now, though, he wanted to take ownership of his flawed thinking and bad decisions, of the fear and hurt that he had caused to strangers and to people he loved.

“I caused a whole community to feel unsafe,” Boldrey said. “It should have never happened. And it’s my fault.”

Boldrey’s attorney, Dan White, shared that, while in prison, his client has agreed to help with a drug and violence awareness program, a law enforcement effort to keep children and young adults from making the kind of mistake Boldrey made.

Behind the defendant, his mother and father watched their son silently, knowing that, whatever Mack’s decision, their child would still walk out of the room wearing chains.

Last reviewed September 2024

#inmate

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quinseparable · 6 months ago

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Dammit, between that last post about "sustainable harvesting" and my friend making a post about white sage, I am all fired up (in agreement with both just so we're clear) about a variety of things in the pagan/new age/spirituality movement that are so damn problematic.

And, for complete and total transparency, I am white AS FUCK. Like completely (a quarter German, a quarter French, and then the rest scattered throughout Wales/Europe/and other Nordic ethnicities)

So obviously I cannot speak on behalf of any community other than my own. That said, I listen to what these other communities do say and try to make sure I do everything possible to not appropriate. I am also non-binary/lesbian/queer. I am also neurodivergent. There are so many things in modern witchcraft/spiritualism/etc that also conflict with those identities of mine.

So, let's just go down the fucking list (in no particular order):

1.) There are over 900 species of Sage. Stop buying White Sage. Stop using it. There are literally hundreds of other varieties that are probably native to your area. White California White Sage is NOT listed as endangered let's be completely clear on that, but Indigenous groups are still concerned about the overharvesting due to the increase in new age spirituality. You have fucking Walmart and Amazon selling "smudging kits" with White Sage bundles in them. And let's be real, we know that these places do not fucking care about "ethical harvesting" or about purchasing directly from Indigenous folks who cultivate it with care. In fact I just saw that in 2018 4 people were arrested for harvesting White Sage illegally. At first you might shrug your shoulders...'eh it's just 4 people'. No. It was 400 lbs of white sage. This site/article here had some good info about white sage as well.

It's been my experience that working with plant life local to your area is going to be FAR more affective then buying something from across the country. For instance, Juniper is so super common here. And you know what? It cleanses my space amazingly. No need for White Sage. Why use a plant or a crystal or a mineral that you have absolutely no connection with? How is that going to help you?

2.) And speaking of 'Smudging'...unless you are Indigenous, what you are probably doing is "smoke cleansing". Y'all those terms aren't interchangeable. Smudging is a sacred, closed practice of various different Indigenous tribes - one of which is the Anishinaabe peoples whom I live in close proximity with. In fact, my best friend is Indigenous. Many of his family members are also friends of mine. Now while my friend doesn't actively participate in his Indigenous culture, some of his family do and we've spoken here and there about this exact thing.

Not only is Smudging not the same as just smoke cleansing, and the overharvesting of white sage making many indigenous folks worried about the plant becoming extinct, you have to remember, it was illegal for many Indigenous folks in the USA to participate in the culture and sacred practices until 1978 when Congress passed the American Indian Religious Freedom Act. They were not allowed to participate in their cultural beliefs and faith and spirituality until just 10 years before I was fucking born. I'm only 36. LET THAT SINK IN. Then like 20 years later here comes a bunch of white people who then try to immediately 'participate' and take over this practice. It's fucking gross.

This is coming from me, who lives smack dab in between Harbor Springs and Petoskey, Michigan...the home to one of the last Boarding Schools to close in the USA. This is Holy Childhood (which actually may be the last to close in the US)- the fucking boarding school I live less than 6 miles away from. There are still human remains under the FUCKING ROAD that passes in front of that building the Catholic Church still owns. (And it was confirmed in 1997 there were bodies found on the property - but they didn't extensively search and many in the tribe believe there are bodies underneath Main Street in Harbor Springs - and I am more likely to side with them then the fucking Catholic community who wants to pretend this was all so long ago).

You want to know when Holy Childhood was finally closed? Fucking 1983 - only 5 years before I was fucking born. (Though some folks that have spoken about the horrors they faced there say they attended as long as 1986.) And yes, there have been a few survivors of these native boarding schools who are willing to speak on their experiences there. Let me tell you, hearing from these survivors, in person, about the horrors that they dealt with - with the forced assimilation and inability to use their language and participate in their customs - has brought me to tears ever fucking time.

And I didn't learn about this at all until I went to work at the DV Shelter I now work at. And to reiterate - I ONLY LIVE 6 MILES AWAY FROM WHERE THE SCHOOL WAS (it's since been torn down I do believe)

One of our local news stations did a 2 part investigation into the history of Holy Childhood (which you can see here ) which is so swept under the rug that the DV/SA organization (we partner with the local tribe often to share resources) has actually included it into their training so we can be more well informed when working with Indigenous survivors in our area.

(Sorry for the length of that point, this is a topic I am very passionate about and also have quite a bit of knowledge behind me)

3.) Hoodoo is a close practices (as is Voodoo but I know even less about that spirituality so I won't speak much on it. Just that Hoodoo and Voodoo are not interchangeable and that they are 2 separate practices). Now, I am not going to speak on this at length because, again, I'm white as fuck but also because I don't have the history and knowledge to really even speak on it. But I will say it is closed - it is not something that someone with my complexation really should be messing with anyway because, y'know, it was created within the enslaved, black populations in the US. But I will say that both Voodoo and Hoodoo have both been demonized by white folks, Christians especially, that many had to practice their faith and beliefs in secret - much like the Indigenous folks did. So we don't get to come in and take over that either.

4.) We have to get away from the goddamn heteronormative gender binary. Now this one I can speak of. Gender non-conforming folks like myself and non-hetero folks have always existed. In fact, I would hazard a guess that there were many queer folks engaging in witchcraft because witchcraft has always been an "outsider" type of practice. So now when we separate men and women, or say women have this ability or magic while men have this type you have alienated some of the more vulnerable people.

Also the idea that this thing has "masculine" energy while this one has "feminine" energy kind of confuses me. Masculine and feminine according to who? To which culture? To which faiths? Or are we just defaulting to us white folks again? Many of us having either a Christian upbringing or are immersed in a more Christian environment. So masculine and feminine according to Christianity? I don't know maybe this is my non-binary ass coming out. Maybe its because my personal beliefs focus a lot on balance.

Perhaps this is less noticeable for us solo practioners but lets be real here, a lot of us GNC folks avoid groups or covens or what have you because where the fuck do we fit in if everything is gendered into 2?

And remember, most cultures had a concept of a third (or more) gender. So they would have had spiritual beliefs that incorporated that person with the duality. Yet in many of the new age spirituality I see now really ignores that fact.

5.) There is no one-way to do anything. Seriously, before I had an official ADHD diagnosis, I wondered why in the fuck I couldn't meditate in the traditional ways. But everyone in the witchcraft community preached about how you have to meditate if you want to be close to your dieties/spiritual guides/etc. Not all brains function in the same way. You know what I found allowed me to get into a more meditative space? Sitting out on the back porch at night. No phone, no music, just listening to the sounds of nature around me (I am fortunate enough to live across from a nature preserve). Sometimes, yes, I do smoke (recreational MJ is legal in Michigan btw). Some people need to walk in the woods to meditate. Some people just can't do any of it. That's fucking FINE.

I am not Wiccan. I do not believe in the three-fold law. And that's ok. I also practice baneful magic sometimes. Other people do not. That's fucking OKAY. Some people do shadow work, others aren't ready. Maybe they'll never be ready. THAT'S OK. Some people have daily rituals or prayers or practices. Others like me wing it at every opportunity. THAT'S OK.

Not everyone has money to buy things. Not everyone is neurotypical. Not everyone is able bodied. Not everyone has access to a local community. Not everyone can openly practice. You get the idea.

And with that this post is getting long and I am getting tired. So I'm gonna end it here, but I may have a part 2 post coming up sometime later.

#witchcraft #witchblr #witch community #pagan #paganism #new age spirituality #witchy shit

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