#so sorry to all of my friends that don't know the details of my campaign

[kylewithann]

Artificer - A Solo TTRPG Liveblog

Today I'm playing Artificer by Levoid , a game where you are a craftsman travelling the world on a quest to make a magic artifact. I felt called to play this game since I play an artificer--Lucca Ironforge--in one of my D&D campaigns. Should be a short game, but I hope that I can flesh out more of my character's backstory while playing it.

Getting Started:

All you need is a deck of cards and somewhere to chronicle your journey. First, I need to determine what kind of magic item I'm making. For Lucca, she has been commissioned to make a ranged weapon that is the first of its kind, faster and more powerful than a bow--what we know today as a gun.

Next, I need to assign a rarity for this item. This will decide how many cards I draw, which determines the length of the game. I'm deeming this to be just your standard uncommon item (as the game recommends for first time players), so I can draw 1-3 cards for my journey. I think 3 cards will be the most fun.

Now to answer the starting prompts to flesh out this story a little more.

What have you been asked to make?: A newly designed Ironforge original ranged weapon. After much brainstorming, Lucca has sketched out the schematics of a pistol.

By whom?: The Ironforge family was commissioned by a wealthy patron named Artemis Shaw to create this new weapon. However, Lucca doesn't know this. Her father passed this task along to her without letting her know the name of the benefactor.

You take stock of your equipment and realize that you do not have everything you need on hand to create this item. How much do you create with your own supplies and talents?: Lucca is a newly minted craftsman, however, she is clever and picked up on the trade quickly. Thus far, she has only made items under the supervision and with the materials of her adoptive family/mentors. This will be her first solo crafting project as well as her first journey to gather supplies.

Card #1:

The first card is the 3 of diamonds. The suit will tell me what resource Lucca needs, and the number will tell me the location. For this leg of the journey, Lucca will need a mundane component from the lair of a dangerous monster.

What material do you need from this place?: The plates from a Bulette

What is special about this specific location?: Bulettes have been known to tunnel their way through the mountains and hills near Ekrund, the city where Lucca hails from.

Lucca's Log #1:

I have no idea how to start this shit off, but fuck it, here it goes.

I figure with a project of this caliber, I should take some design notes. If this works out, maybe I'll make more of these in the future, so I'll need some sort of reference. Besides, this is my first real commission, so I should memorialize it somehow, right?

My inspiration for this project is to make something similar to the turrets that mom and I built together, but a handheld weapon. For that build, we used an alloy of iron and bulette armor to make a hardier metal able to withstand the force and rate of the projectiles fired. Unfortunately, bulette armor is not easy to come by, so I knew I would have to go out and harvest my own.

The locals told me that the ghohlbrorn--the Dwarvish term for the creature--like to burrow in the foothills nearby. After days of searching, I found one of their tunnels at nightfall. In there, I set up my trap. Using some local game that I had hunted, I set up a wide circle of meat and bones to replicate a male bulette's lure to attract potential mates. In the center where the bait lay, I set up a Snare spell. From there, all I needed to do was lie in wait.

Then I felt it: the rumbling. With a mighty roar, the beast emerged from the earth--and right into my trap. It let out a startled yelp as it was hoisted into the air. I leapt out from my hiding spot and landed a decisive blow to it's unprotected underbelly, dragging my blade along its length. After plunging my weapon deep into its flesh a few more times, the struggling stopped. My quarry had been defeated. After cutting down the rope, I began to carve into its back until I had freed my prize: a large plate from its rugged shell.

Gotta say, this shit was pretty badass.

Card #2

The second card is the ace of hearts. For the next phase of our journey, Lucca will need magic from a dark, ancient fortress that once harbored one of the great evils of this world.

What is this magic?" The fiery enchantment from an Efreeti's blade

Why is it best found in this location?: This fortress is located where the borders between the material plane and the plane of fire are the weakest. It is said a powerful and cruel efreeti once lived here many years ago before he was sought out and slain by the joint efforts of adventurers and the Fire Ashari. Some say his sword is still hidden within the fortress.

Lucca's Log #2

Note to self: In the future, don't cross through the fucking mountains.

I figured hey, it would be best to take a direct route to the home of the Fire Ashari. But sweet Moradin, what a fucking hike. All that trouble based on some hearsay.

Rumor had it that I would be able to find the sword of a fire genie in a fortress in northern Oclaria. I did some research and discovered that the efreeti can make flaming weapons. Should be perfect to power the firing mechanism of my creation. I've worked with fire enchantments before with my flamethrower turret, but I figured I should get something stronger for this new prototype. And hey, if it works out, I can use it in the future for my own weapons.

It took me several days to make it to the Fire Ashari's domain. Once there, I asked around about the palace. Most refused to answer my questions and would scurry away at the mention of the topic, but I eventually found a member of the tribe who would take me there--for a pretty copper, of course. After another couple day trek, I spied an imposing fortress of black glass on the horizon. My guide wished me luck before hurriedly departing.

I made my way inside, looking around in awe at the beautiful yet intimidating structure. It wasn't long, however, before I was accosted by a swarm of some little bastards: magma mephits. My flamethrower turret wasn't going to be effective here, so I threw down a force ballista, blasting the fuckers away. Unfortunately, I had no idea that the shits blew up when you killed them. Those burns hurt like a bitch. New plan: run the fuck away.

I let the ballista continue to do its job as I hightailed it out of there, running deeper into the palace. I made sharp twists and turns as I continued to evade the mephits who were still tracking me. The chase took me into what looked like a throne room. Just when I thought I was cornered, I spied it: a scimitar stuck deep into a pedestal.

I had no time to copy the runes here. Using all of my strength, I hoisted the blade out of its resting place and kept sprinting--not without taking a few claw marks from a mephit or two. I was feeling exhausted from the running as well as the wounds I had taken, but I somehow powered my way out of there through sheer adrenaline alone. Luckily, the mephits did not follow me further when I left the confines of the fortress. I collapsed to the ground once I made it out of the structure.

Holy shit. I did it.

Card #3:

The third and final card for this game is the 9 of Diamonds. For the last component, Lucca needs is a mundane component from a humble, homesteaded farm.

What material do you need from this place?: leather for a holster

What is special about this specific location?: The plains of Oclaria just south of Ekrund contain a farm renowned for its cattle.

Lucca's Log #3:

I had everything I needed to actually build this prototype, but there was another request for the commissioner: make something to hold the weapon at their side.

I decided to take inspiration from the scabbard and go with leather for my material. Some fellow crafters from Ekrund pointed me in the direction of a farm they had a partnership with. Apparently the leather that came from their cows was tough yet pliable--a prized commodity for any leatherworker.

This leg of the journey was the easiest one yet. Well deserved after all the shit I went through for the armor and the sword. I hitched a ride on a wagon making its way through the countryside and spent the next few days relaxing on the back of the carriage, staring up at the calm, blue sky.

The ranch was small and unassuming. Hard to believe such esteemed livestock came from here. But the people were kind and vouched for their product. They agreed to exchange some of their leather for my blacksmithing services with a humble request: make them a brand for their cattle. Considering they didn't have a forge, I had my work cut out for me. Luckily, I always carry my tools with me. And I sure as shit wasn't going to be bested by this comission.

Using their fire pit, I stoked the flames until they were barely hot enough to work the iron. Using my tongs, I was able to manipulate the metal into something akin to an insignia. It wasn't my finest work, but the farmers were ecstatic. They loaded me up with their esteemed leather and sent me on my way.

Easy fucking peasy.

Closing Prompts:

Once you have created your magic item, do you give it to your patron? Are they pleased with the craftsmanship?

...no.

Lucca's Log #4:

I'm so fucking pissed I can't see straight.

I don't blame my father. He wasn't maliciously withholding information from me--he just didn't know any better.

I had finished my creation--what I'm calling the "handgun." All that was left was to finish the final details of the holster. Dad came in with a last minute request from our patron--embellish the holster with their family crest. No problem, I thought. But it was once I laid eyes on the design presented to me, I fucking knew.

Fucking. Shaw.

The bastard didn't know he was commissioning me. For all he knew, I had died--by his hand, no less. Now his precious little project was in my hands. Cruel irony, right?

I fastened the holster to my own hip--bare of any crest--and slipped the gun inside.

That fucker won't be getting this weapon today. In fact, I'm going to use it myself.

To put a bullet right between his fucking eyes.

Closing Thoughts:

This was a shorter game than most of the solo TTRPGs I've done (minus the occasional bouts of writer's block). I had lots of fun diving into possible details for my OC's backstory. Not sure if it would hit the same if I wasn't already playing an artificer in a D&D campaign. But if you got some time to spare and wanna create your own magic items, give this system a try!

[firelightmlpoc]

This is Pansear (if you want proof, look at my pinned blog; I'm well aware that there are a lot of imposters out there). I wish to say thank you for being open minded while also acknowledging that- yes- I did fuck up at times. I didn't treat Azriel the best. I was selfish towards the MAP collaborators. I wasn't a particularly great person in general- all that I admit, and I have my own separate posts for those. Overall, I'm sorry.

The harassment was too much and the screenshots were obviously fake. It wasn't fair to me. It wasn't fair to anyone either including those who believed were fake too, even to future potential victims of allegations and former victims of harassment campaigns. I left not in admittance of guilt, but to everything else that has boiled over (again, I detailed this in a post).

I know there's people beaming to know that I'm alive and well (and of course, people who are angry that I'm not). I just want to say that I'm sorry for having to leave everyone in the dark for so long, and that I was basically a POS back then.

It saddens me as well that this whole situation not only affected me- it has affected most of the fandom. It has affected the other artists, who no longer feel safe and comfortable. It has affected my friends, who missed me and feel lost in the dark. It has affected my fans, who worry about me and feel so conflicted about everything. It has affected friend groups who are distanced in their conflicts.

Even for the things I didn't do, I still felt horrible. There were no winners in the end, and any winner I could describe are those vile people hiding behind anons who have hurt the most.

People can already predict that I will never return and that is definitely the case. Not just for the sake of my well-being, but I believe it's for the best for everyone in general. It's been far too long that I danced through the harsh weathers- some strange fucked up game of ping pong, and it's time to put it to rest. I don't care if people will hate me still, all I care about is everyones' safety and for those who have been hurt to heal from this.

I have no real say on the Emily side of things. Indeed what she did to Azriel was irresponsible, but she doesn't deserve the harm and harassment she's got and been getting. Nobody does. Not even my calloutters and my harassers. Looking at their responses and posts just makes me feel bad. I can't help but feel sorry for them.

I hope you yourself are doing well. To all others reading this, I hope you all are too. The fandom isn't the same but I know love can persist somewhere. I am leaving it all up to you to make this place so much better, and that one day everyone can laugh again.

For now, I'm hoping things can rest.

I’m glad to hear you’re doing alright. And as you’ve said: Yes, you have done things wrong, but the actions taken against you were far beyond the pale for what you actually did.

An apology backed by action towards self-betterment is a good apology, & is what you’ve shown to be doing, though I truly wish that the cost you’ve had to pay for this all wasn’t so steep. I hope that you’re still able to find enjoyment in your art still, & hope that you’re able to heal from all of this, even if it takes a good bit of time to do so.

May the path you walk no longer hurt to stand on, & may you find yourself at peace with all of it some day.

[funnylittlelad]

Trailer Park Blues - Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader

Thank you for 100 followers! :)

Read on AO3

summary: You don't think much when you start letting Hellfire use your trailer for their meetings. Dustin asked and you caved, as per usual. What you weren't expecting was the rollercoaster ride that becomes your relationship with your little brother's best friend, Eddie Munson.

wordcount: 15.8k

tags/notes: SMUT (MDNI), gn!reader (nonbinary coded if you squint), reader is Dustin's older sibling, name-calling, degradation, hate fucking i'm ngl it's hate fucking, unprotected sex, power play, mentions of bad past relationships, queer eddie munson, talks about dead parents being dead

You might kill Dustin. The windows of your trailer are illuminated. He told you they’d all be gone by the time you got home from work. As you get closer to the door and hear the excited shouts you know that they’re all still here. You’re tired, you smell, and the last thing you want to do is look at a bunch of high schoolers playing some table top bullshit. 

“Dustin,” you shout as you swing the front door open.

 Everyone at the dining table jumps and snaps to look at you. When you enter your trailer you’re immediately met with a view of the living room to your right and the small kitchen to your left. Your table is in the middle, creating a makeshift dining area turned D&D area. 

The normal crew is there, Mike, Lucas, and Will. There are some new, and semi-new faces. The semi-new face is one you’ve seen, but never spoken to. Eddie Munson, four trailers down, and originally part of your graduating class. 

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of us!” Dustin exclaims, holding his heaving chest.

“You’re not supposed to be here for me to scare the shit out of,” you remind him, the annoyance evident. 

“I know, I’m sorry. We’re almost done, I promise. Can we please just finish?” he pleads with big eyes and a quivering lip. 

This fucking kid knows he has everyone in his life around his damn finger. You’d like to smack him.

“Fine, but you’re explaining to mom why you're not home yet,” you point at him as you speak. 

His face breaks into a smile. 

“You’re the best!”

“Call, now,” you order.

 When Dustin goes to the phone on the wall next to your fridge, you exit to the short hall. The company isn't going to stop you from showering. Eddie is frozen. His eyes follow you as you leave the room, mouth parted slightly. You barged in a little angry and it knocked him through a loop. His poor little bisexual heart felt ready to explode. You must get more shit than he does looking like that. Doesn't matter that you’re stunning, being the picture of androgyny in Hawkins can't be easy. He wants so badly to examine that picture up close and in detail. Dustin was right about one thing. Jesus Christ.

When the kid told Eddie they could use his sibling’s trailer Eddie was surprised to find he lived so close to a Henderson without realizing. Now, he really can't believe it. 

“Okay, let’s finish before I get my ass kicked,” Dustin says as he comes back to the table. 

Eddie snaps out of the trance he fell into.

“Uh-we can call it here,” Eddie says, sounding far away.

 The rest of the table balks at him.

“You’re calling the campaign early?” Dustin questions.

“When I asked if we could cut last week's campaign short you said you would strangle me with your bare hands,” Mike adds in disbelief. 

“We’re in the middle of a fight,” Will protests. 

The rest of the table starts voicing their own arguments creating a cacophony of disgruntled nerds. 

“Okay, okay,” Eddie gets loud to quiet down the table, “Dustin’s next in initiative.” 

The boys cheer triumphantly causing Eddie to smile. If his eyes keep darting to where you disappeared down the hall… Well, that’s his business. Your trailer is close to his in layout, but it’s much more well-kempt and put together. Makes sense since you live here alone and two grown men live in Eddie’s. 

When you reappear, toweling off your hair, they’re wrapping up. Your sweatpants that sit just below your belly button and short cropped shirt don't go unnoticed by Eddie. His eyes glide over your midriff and the soft dark hair that it's home to. It seems no matter what you’re in you remain more androgynous than Boy George.

 A trait that absolutely entices the queer disaster that is Eddie Munson. Dustin only ever uses sibling to talk about you. He doesn't use any language that would give any more away than your appearance does. It doesn't matter anyways, Eddie is infatuated regardless. Maybe even partially because of. 

The boys all throw you a goodbye as they exit until only Dustin and Eddie are left. Dustin is cleaning up any dishes or garbage left behind while Eddie packs up all the D&D materials. You didn't realize how much goes into this table top bullshit. Eddie has books, binders, and notebooks worth of information and ideas. There's stats and prices of various items on the screen he puts up so no one can peek at his notes. Then there's the velvet drawstring bag of different shaped dice. Shapes you’ve never even seen dice come in before. 

“How long were you guys playing for?” you ask the two of them from where you lean against the counter. 

You don't know what time they got started, just that they were supposed to be gone when you got home.

“Six hours,” Dustin says sheepishly.

“Six hours?” 

“It took longer than expected,” he shrugs with an apologetic smile.

You chuckle and shake your head. Your eyes flicker over to Eddie, catching him staring at you with wide dark eyes. Once your gaze meets his he looks down and hurries to finish packing up. You choose to disregard it. Eddie Munson can eat dirt if he thinks he's in any position to judge you. If only you knew he wasn't judging you, he was admiring you.

“It’s getting late. Do you want to just spend the night? I don't like the idea of you biking home when it's this dark out,” you say to Dustin softly. 

You don't have a car of your own to drive him. Since everything that happened with Will… Yeah, he’s definitely not biking home alone at night. 

“I can bring him,” Eddie offers as he zips up his bag.

“You can bring him?” You question thinking about the death trap of a van you’ve seen him drive. 

Somehow, that feels even worse. 

“Yeah, I can bring him,” he repeats and finally meets your eyes again.

 He sees the distrust, the anxiety. It hits him in the gut. 

“That’s okay, he can just spend the night,” you refuse him politely. 

“How d’you think he got here in the first place?” Eddie asks with raised eyebrows and an amused smile.

 Your nostrils flare a little at the smugness.

“Then I should consider myself lucky he’s still in one piece,” you shoot back. 

Eddie dramatically grabs his stomach and doubles over with a grunt as if he has just been punched.

“You hurt me, Henderson,” he huffs as he looks up at you from his bent state. 

A smile grows on his face when he sees you fighting off your own. 

“Hello, I’m right here, y’know,” Dustin looks between the two of you exasperatedly, “I can go with Eddie.”

“Dust-”

“I can go with Eddie,” he cuts you off to repeat himself. 

You exhale sharply through your nose. The two of you glare at each other for a moment. You still lean against the counter while Dustin stands beside the table. Eddie watches from where he stands on the opposite side of the table. Then your smoldering gaze turns to Eddie, stopping his breathing.

“Do the speed limit,” your voice is even, but so stern that all Eddie can do is nod. 

He swallows the lump that forms in his throat as a result.

“Cross my heart,” he uses his pointer finger to draw an X over his heart. 

Dustin hugs you goodbye. You make him promise to call tomorrow. Eddie gives you one last wide eyed look, a small smile plays on his lips. Then you’re finally alone. You love having Dustin over, but you’re also glad to have peace and quiet. 

You moved out a few short months after graduation. Your overbearing mother proved too much to continue living with. Dustin was pissed at first. He came around when he realized it meant having a space to escape to and be himself. Something you're more than happy to provide for him. 

He was thrilled to learn that Eddie lives only four trailers away from you. When Dustin asked if Hellfire could meet at your place to continue a campaign they had started you agreed for this one time. Even when you said it, you had a feeling Dustin will end up begging for 

more and you’ll end up caving. The kid really does have everyone wrapped around his finger. Eddie included it seems.

“So, are they always so…,” Eddie struggles to finish his question as he drives through Hawkins. 

Hot, breathtaking, pulse pounding, awestriking. He can't really say any of that to Dustin. 

“Protective?” Dustin offers.

“Protective works,” Eddie nods. 

Not exactly what he was thinking, but that applies too.

“Pretty much.” 

“How long have they lived in Forest Hills?” He tries to keep his tone casual, but ends up sounding just a little too interested. 

He can feel Dustin’s eyes burning into the side of his head. 

“Year and a half,” Dustin answers.

“So they're… nineteen?”

“Twenty.” 

Eddie glances over at Dustin. He looks one part irritated and two parts suspicious. Eddie adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. 

“Wait, we were in the same grade?” Eddie asks, surprised.

“You were supposed to be,” Dustin ribs. 

“You wanna walk from here, Henderson?”

“You wanna get murdered?” 

Eddie shoots him a glare knowing he’s right. His threat is hollow with you around. If you found out he let Dustin walk halfway home he’s sure he wouldn't see morning. 

“Why are you asking?” Dustin inquired after a moment of silence. Eddie shrugs.

“Just curious.”

“Uh-huh,” Dustin sounds entirely unconvinced.

“Whatever,” Eddie mutters to himself. He pushes you out of his mind and focuses on driving. 

He can feel Dustin’s occasional glances. The younger Henderson has clocked his strange demeanor, he knows it. It’s not hard. He isn't as goofy or teasing. He’s more lost in thought than he'd like. He just doesn't know how he's never noticed you before. How has he never noticed the one person in Hawkins that seems to tick every single fucking box he could possibly have? 

***

The next time Eddie sees you it’s raining. The weather is only noteable because he sees you walking home with no umbrella. He catches you as you make it under the awning of the movie theater. It gives you temporary shelter from the pounding of the rain. Eddie pulls over to the curb in front of you. He had been going to the store to grab some munchies, but that’s something he can do later. 

You eye his van curiously. He doesn’t bother with his hazards. Cars go around him without issue. He leans over and cranks the window down.

“You need a ride?” he calls out.

“I’m good, thanks,” you call back.

“Seriously? You’ll catch your death walking all the way to Forest Hills in this. Just get in.”

You sigh, but do as he says. It's not like you want to walk in the rain. Keeping a distance from Eddie just felt like the right thing to do. He gives you a feeling in your gut you can't quite place. He always has. Is it possible to admire someone and not like them?

“Thanks,” you say as you close the door. 

You’re shivering as you drip on his seat.

“Yeah, no problem,” Eddie says as he blasts the heat. 

His typically loud music is soft as he drives. Something you appreciate. Work was a headache. Having to walk home in the rain was a pain in the ass. A pain in the ass Eddie has luckily saved you from.

“Where d’you work, anyways?” he asks after a few minutes.

“I’m a manager over at the general store.”

“Shit, really? I steal-I mean I-uh go there all the time,” Eddie doesn’t course correct quite fast enough. 

To his surprise, you laugh. It’s a nice sound. Calming like the rain is when you aren't stranded in it.

“I’ll remember that next time I see you in there.”

There’s a comfortable silence after that. Eddie is actually a better driver than you assumed. It makes you feel a little better about Dustin driving around with him. You don't even notice you've stopped shivering. The van is warming you up, but you’re still soaked. 

“Sorry about your seats, by the way,” you say.

“Eh, it’s just some water. These seats have seen worse,” he shrugs.

You grimace in disgust.

“Like what?” 

Eddie lets out a hearty laugh.

“Probably better you don’t know.”

“Jesus, you’re nasty, Munson,” your laughter betrays you. 

“Oh, you have no idea, Henderson.”

Another round of comfortable silence as Forest Hills comes into view. You expect Eddie to park at his trailer. You don't mind walking the short distance to your own. Instead he pulls right up to your door. 

“Seriously thank you, Eddie,” you give him a smile.

“Don’t worry about it. If- y'know, if you need a ride again you can give me a call.”

“Sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to give me your phone number,” you tease.

Eddie chuckles.

“Two birds, one stone,” he smiles.

“You’ll need to try harder than that, Munson. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” You flash him a smile and then you’re gone.

Only the wet imprint of your ass lets him know you were ever really there in the first place.

***

“Please,” Dustin pleads over the phone. You sigh.

“Dustin, it’s my day off. I don't want to sit here and listen to you guys for six hours,” you tell him.

“We’ll only be an hour, two tops.”

“Dustin-”

“I can stay over after and we can hang out. We’ll watch E.T.,” he sweetens the pot. 

He knows that's your favorite movie and he knows you’re a sucker for quality time with him. Little asshole.

“Fine, but you only get two hours before I kick everyone out.”

“Three?”

“Two and a half.”

“Thank you, you're the best, bye!” he hangs up before you have a chance to change your mind. You chuckle and shake your head.

Two and a half hours stuck in your room isn't too bad. Besides, you’re not really stuck. You just don't want to get in the way, or listen on in utter confusion. You know a little about D&D from Dustin talking about it, but not enough to follow. Sure you’ll pop out to grab a drink, maybe something to eat, but overall you intend to stay removed. 

Part of you wants to stay away from Eddie. You know he’ll just start flirting and you'll be too weak to stop it. Too weak to resist giving it right back to him. It shouldn't surprise you when Eddie is the first to show an hour later, but it does. He gives a quick rhythmic knock on your door. 

“I'm surprised you made it so early. I know the commute is killer,” you quip when you see him standing outside the screen door. 

With a grin, Eddie braces his lower back beneath his old bookbag and leans into his hands a bit to dramatize discomfort.

“Yeah, my back is killing me from the long drive over,” he makes a face as he jokes to drive it home. 

You chuckle and push the screen door open to let him in.

“Dustin isn't here yet,” you tell him as he enters.

 He pauses just inside the doorway leaving him so close to you his body heat reaches the skin of your arms.

“I can come back,” he says and begins to turn.

“No, it's alright. He should be here soon. I’m assuming you need to get set up or something?” you tilt your head toward the cleared off dining table. He nods and you hold your arm out to tell him he’s welcome to continue inside. 

You watch him make his way to the table. Something about the way he’s joking back with you makes you wonder if you had things wrong. Maybe he wasn't flirting in the van the other day. Maybe it was just friendly banter. 

“Thanks for letting us play here. We usually use the drama room, but they’ve needed it more with that stupid musical coming up,” Eddie says as he opens his bag and begins to pull things out.

“Let me guess, Grease?” you shut the door and find your place on the couch.

 Eddie glances at you with an amused smirk.

“Sure is.”

“Figures. Thank God Dustin isn't a theater kid. I don't think I could sit through that every year,” you chuckle.

 Eddie’s smile is curious, maybe even a bit nervous. You're watching him and it makes his movements just a little less sure. 

“Instead you get a bunch'a freaks playing D&D at your table.”

“You calling my brother a freak, Munson?” There’s an edge to your words. 

Eddie’s eyes get wide.

“Uh- no, I-”

“I’m just kidding, calm down,” you laugh, “it’s okay, he is a freak. Besides, I don't think you’d ever be mean to Dustin.”

“Why’s that?”

“He worships the ground you walk on. If you were ever mean to him your uncle would need to pull dental records to identify you,” you say it light heartedly with a smile.

 Your voice and expression don't match the vicious threat. Eddie’s heart thumps hard as he spreads out the battle map.

“You’re a little scary, y’know that?”

“How else am I supposed to keep you in line?” 

Heat crawls up Eddie’s neck. His throat dries and he clumsily knocks into his DM screen. It clatters flat onto the table. You watch on in amusement as he fumbles with it. He’s flustered. A fact that goes straight to your ego. Eddie is Dustin’s friend so you had no plans to actually be mean or rude to him. Admittedly, your brother is pretty good at picking people. Even if others don't see what he does in those people. 

Is flustering Eddie by accident mean or rude? Is continuing to do it because you like that you can? 

“How is it I’ve never seen you around before?” Eddie asks once the DM screen is back up the way he wants it. 

“You have, you just never noticed,” you shrug.

“Trust me, I would have noticed you,” he glances at you as he says it. 

When he sees your attention is already on him, he quickly moves on to digging out the miniatures he brought. 

“Trust me, you wouldn't have. I haven't always been this comfortable dressing and existing how I want. Not everyone can be Eddie Munson,” you give him a small smile.

“What's that supposed to mean?” he pauses setting up to look at you. 

He half expects insults to start being hurled at him.

“You’ve always been yourself. Even when it would be easier to be someone else. I’ve always admired that about you. It took me a long time to be that brave,” you answer genuinely. 

His face reddens and his eyes nearly strike you down where you sit. They’re big, as always, and the distinct brown of them swims in an emotion you can't place. Eddie’s heart is in his throat. He knows he’s attracted to you physically, but you might have just sunk a hook in him emotionally. Whether you meant to or not, you nearly destroyed him with your words. He can't remember the last time someone has said such nice things to his face. 

“Always, huh? You been watching me, Henderson?” he bounces back, diffusing his own feelings with the joke. 

You shrug with an innocent smile.

“You make it hard not to.”

Eddie’s face somehow gets even hotter. He might need to peel off his jacket if this keeps up. As he struggles to come up with a response to that, Dustin bursts in. The large smile on his face drops when he sees the flustered state of Eddie. His eyes travel back and forth between the two of you.

“What’s happening?” he asks

“Just getting to know your friend,” you shrug casually. 

Traces of that smile can still be found on your face. That's when Eddie knows you’re doing it on purpose. You saw how flustered you made him and decided to keep going. He’s not sure if he hates you or just fell in love with you. 

“Right,” Dustin says, completely unconvinced. 

“Okay, well, I’ll make myself scarce before the rest of the nerds get here. Remember, two and a half hours, Dustin,” you point at him as you rise from the couch. 

“I know, I know.”

Eddie watches you disappear down the hall. His eyes stay on the beginning of the hallway until he hears your bedroom door click shut. Then he finally looks at the boy in front of him. Dustin has narrowed eyes on Eddie.

“What?” Eddie asks defensively and continues emptying his bag. 

“You tell me,” Dustin crosses his arms.

“I don't know what you mean,” Eddie lies as he spreads out his reference materials and notes behind the screen.

“Bullshit.”

“We were just talking.”

Before Dustin can pry further the rest of the boys start piling in. Mike, Lucas, and Will are confident just walking in like they live there. Jeff and Gareth follow with more hesitation. Eddie happily dives in once everyone is settled at the table. Happy to continue the campaign and happy to avoid talking about you further with Dustin. He’s not sure how the younger Henderson will take his burgeoning crush. 

Around thirty minutes into their gameplay you appear for a drink. You notice immediately that Eddie becomes distracted when you pop into the kitchen. Eddie’s eyes track you the entire way as the others discuss their next move. You catch his gaze when you turn around from the fridge. Before he can try to act like he wasn't staring, you smirk. Then you’re taking a nice long drink from your can of coke. Eddie swallows, watching you, Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to regain the ability to speak. 

“Eddie,” Dustin waves his hand in front of Eddie’s eyes.

 Eddie blinks back into the game, feeling like he traveled a million light years and back. Dustin glances over his shoulder to where Eddie had been zoned off staring. You give your brother a small wave when he sees you. His eyebrows furrowed as he looks back to Eddie who is trying desperately to get back on track. Eddie hazards one more quick look at you. You throw him a wink as you make your exit. On their way back to the table in front of him, his eyes meet Dustin’s.

“What the hell was that?” Dustin questions.

“That was Mike getting knocked prone,” Eddie answers and reaches over his screen to knock Mike’s miniature on its side. 

“You’re deflecting,” Mike says smugly, happy to have some retribution for the hit Eddie’s NPC made on his character. 

“Uh, no, I’m DM-ing,” he makes a sweeping gesture to the layout in front of him.

“Holy shit, Eddie has a crush,” Lucas realizes out loud. 

Dustin groans.

“Are we gonna have to stop playing here?” Will asks genuinely.

 Will is the only one Eddie can consider innocent here. The rest of them earn a glare. 

“I don't know, Eddie, will we?” Dustin sasses with a pointed look at Eddie.

“No, we won't. We only have a couple hours here, can we get back to the fucking game?” Eddie snaps them back into focus. 

An hour goes by and you’re back. This time Eddie is able to drag his gaze away from where you’re digging around in a cabinet. You have to reach up in a way that exposes the skin of your stomach. A silky stripe of skin and some tufts of dark hair between your too small shirt and sweatpants. 

Instead of allowing himself to get distracted by you again, he starts putting on more of a show. His movements become more dramatic, he throws himself more fully into the voices he’s doing, and overall amping up the theatrics. He figures if you admire him always being himself, he'll dial himself up to ten. 

You find yourself leaning against the counter with a bag of chips in your hand watching. No one else seems to have noticed your arrival. They’re too taken in by the narrative Eddie is weaving. You can't blame them. Eddie puts his full body into it. After a couple minutes he lets the group deliberate their next move. His eyes flicker over to you again, a smirk on his face. The eye contact jolts you from whatever weird fog you’d fallen into watching him. As you make your leave you see the quick wink Eddie tosses your way. 

Your heart is loud in your ears when you shut your door. Oh, it’s on, Munson, you think to yourself. If there's one thing you are, it's competitive. It’s clear you fluster Eddie, which means there’s some type of attraction there. Truthfully, you’re attracted to him too. You always have been. His authenticity and ability to stay true to himself have always drawn you in. Now that you can tell he’s into this too, you’re ready to have fun with it. The two of you have officially entered a little game and you refuse to lose.

 An old pair of shorts is your next move. They’re Hawkins High green with white trim and stripes up the side of each leg. They’re long enough to cover everything, but short enough to draw attention. You give it another fifteen minutes before re-emerging. When you do so you fan yourself with your hand to pretend your room is hot. Without looking to see if Eddie has noticed you bend at the hips to start peering in the fridge. You look innocuous enough searching for a water bottle to cool down. Then you hear a clattering, a few shouts, and fumbling.

“Shit,” Eddie hisses. 

You turn around with a water bottle pressed to your forehead. Everyone, but Eddie, is frantically looking for something on the floor. A small red pointy looking die sits in front of you on the linoleum, a black number twenty facing up. You pluck it off the floor and hold it up lazily. 

“You guys looking for this?” you ask. A couple of them hit their heads on the table on their way up. 

When they see the D20 between your fingers they swarm you. Suddenly you’re trapped against the fridge by several manic nerds. Dustin grabs the sides of your upper arms. 

“Did you see what it landed on?” He all but demands. 

You shove him off and push through them. Eddie remains seated at the table watching with huge eyes. 

“First off, whose is it?” you ask.

“Mine,” Eddie’s voice wavers just a bit on the single syllable. 

With a bright smile you walk it over to him. He looks up at you when you’re next to the table, face getting more and more red. You place the D20 down in front of him, black twenty still up. His mouth parts slightly as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You have him all lined up where you want him. Now, you just have to make the goal by brandishing some of the only D&D knowledge Dustin has imparted on you.

“Natural twenty,” you say, your smile curling into something more mischievous, “Congrats on the crit.”

Eddie continues blinking his wide dark eyes at you. The rest of the boys groan behind you. Whatever Eddie just rolled for clearly isn't good for them. They all take their seats again. 

“You couldn't have lied?” Dustin huffs comically.

“And rob your DM of his roll? Never,” you chuckle. 

You lift his hat, ruffle his hair, and walk off. Eddie gapes after you, heart absolutely pounding. He won't be able to stand the rest of the game. His jeans got a little tighter when he saw you bent over in those fucking shorts, distracting him mid roll. It only got worse when you walked over his D20, looked down at him like you know the hold you have, and congratulated him on his nat twenty.  

“I think he’s drooling,” Mike’s voice pulls Eddie back to the table.

“He’s speechless,” Gareth adds.

“I’m not speechless. I'm contemplating.”

“Contemplating what?” Lucas questions unconvinced.

“How exactly I want this nat twenty to fuck up your day.”

You don't make another appearance until their time is up. By the time you make it out there it's just Dustin and Eddie. Dustin is on his knees in the living room looking through the different VHS tapes you have in a milk crate. Eddie is packing away all his stuff neatly. 

“How’d it go?” you ask them as you plop down onto your couch. 

Dustin launches into an excited and detailed account of the game. Eddie expects you to tell him to calm down, that you don't need a play by play of every second. You don't. Instead you listen encouragingly, ask questions for clarification, and let Dustin rattle on. 

“Sounds like you did a good job with this one, Dungeon Master,” you say to Eddie with a smile. 

His heart skips. 

“Even I have my days,” he shoots you a smile in return as he zips up his bag. 

“Yeah? Maybe one of these days you’ll be able to keep your dice on the table,” you tease. 

Dustin watches the two of you and it clicks. At first he thought Eddie was just taking a morbid interest. You’ve had plenty of that. Guys in Hawkins like experimenting, toeing the line you ride between genders, and then denying anything ever happened when they come to their senses. He didn't want to think Eddie would be like that, but as protective as you are of Dustin he is of you. The way you prop your chin on your hand and lean on the arm of the couch toward Eddie finally clues Dustin in. You're into Eddie too. 

“Eddie, you should stay and watch E.T. with us,” Dustin interjects. 

Your eyes dart to him curiously. 

“I promised Wayne I'd be home by eight. Next time, alright?” Eddie swings his bag over his shoulder. 

Dustin is disappointed, but doesn't put up a fight. Eddie knew he wouldn't last through a movie with you. Not if earlier was any indication of what you’re capable of doing to him. Not with Dustin around. As disappointed as you might be, you’re also relieved. If Eddie sat next to you the movie would have been forgotten immediately. You and Dustin bid Eddie farewell and start the movie.

Dustin is knocked out on the couch by the end of it. You throw the soft blanket you keep in the living room over him. It’s too early for you to be tired. You take to cleaning up a little, grabbing what Dustin missed when cleaning up after the campaign. When you go to toss the little bits of trash in the garbage can you find it full. You roll your eyes knowing full well Dustin left it like this for you when he could have taken it out. 

The outside air nips at your exposed legs. It’s a short walk to the dumpster, but in the dark it can be creepy. Forest Hills isn't the most lit up place at night. You hurry to toss the bag into the dumpster.

“Come here often?”

The voice startles you. You whip around with a small yelp. Eddie stands before you with a garbage bag in his hand and a teasing smirk on his face. When you realize it's him you recover quickly.

“Only when I’m hoping to see you,” you tease as you step out of his way. He tosses his own bag in the dumpster and turns to face you.

“You callin’ me trash, Henderson?” He raises his eyebrows.

“I didn't say that, but if that's what you took from it…” you smile playfully. 

He shakes his head chuckling.

“You're kinda mean,” Eddie points at you as he says it. 

“Am I?” You ask, taking a step forward. 

There's a foot of space between you and Eddie. You can see his breathing stutter in his chest. 

“Yeah, but I like it,” he admits quietly, heart pounding. 

You smile and take another step forward. You’re fully in Eddie’s space now. He can't even tell if he’s still breathing. You’re still in those fucking shorts, you're openly flirting with him, and you’re so god damn close. He might just die on the spot.

“Do you?” You're torturing him now.

 He knows it. You know it.

“Now you’re just tryna get me to say nice things about you,” he teases with a smirk. 

How he’s maintaining any amount of composure is beyond him. Maybe God is real and right now Eddie is His favorite little soldier.

“Is that so hard?”

“No, not when you're wearing those.”

He nods down to your shorts. You laugh, placing a hand on the breast of his jean vest over his leather jacket. 

“I thought you’d like’em.”

“You were right.”

“I’m glad I dug them out for you then,” you smirk, toying with one of the many pins on his vest. 

“You- for me?” Eddie sputters not expecting the bold statement.

 Light teasing and flirting, sure, but not that.

“You’re really surprised?” you chuckle.

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs lamely. His composure is quickly slipping.

“Then you haven't been paying attention very well,” you chide playfully. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes. 

Before you can say another word, Eddie breaks. He grabs the sides of your face and crashes his lips into yours. You grasp onto the denim of his vest as you melt into it. His lips are warm, urgent, and a little sloppy with desperation. The kiss sends a thrill through your entire body. It’s only when he pulls away that you remember where you are. Outside at night kissing Eddie Munson next to the fucking dumpster. Are you sixteen again? 

You just look into each other's eyes for a second. Eddie’s face is still just inches away from yours. His pupils are blown to shit and you're sure yours are too. You drag him forward again by the grip on his vest. This time your other hand finds a home in his coarse wavy to curly hair. He moans into your mouth as your hold on his hair tightens. You give a surprised groan when his hand grabs your ass. He rides the shorts up just enough for him to brush against the skin they once covered. 

It takes an extreme amount of effort to pull away. Somehow, you manage. Both of you are breathing heavily. After a second of just studying each other's face, you shake your head with a smile.

“I better get going before I try to jump your bones in the dumpster,” you say, but don't move. 

“Maybe you can jump my bones another time,” Eddie suggests with a smile. 

You chuckle.

“I think that can be arranged.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Aren't you eager,” you tease.

“Can you blame me?”

“No, I guess not.”

He gives you an expectant stare. You pretend to think his offer over. 

“Okay, tomorrow. Dustin should be gone by one,” you nod. 

Eddie fights off a groan. He forgot about the Dustin of it all. Maybe this isn't a good idea. Maybe he should call the whole thing off. 

“See you tomorrow,” he says instead. 

“I look forward to it,” you smile and leave him.

 He watches you walk back to your trailer. Without you pressed against him, he’s suddenly cold. He jogs back to his own trailer still in disbelief. His thoughts are spinning. One thing is for sure, his dreams are going to be full of you tonight.

***

Eddie’s fist hovers by the door for a second. This is his last chance to back out. It’s his last chance to turn around and avoid any awkward confrontation with Dustin later. Eddie cares about that kid’s opinion of him far too much. Once he has the thought to leave, he gives a quick rhythmic knock. 

“Eddie?” Dustin questions when he opens the door, “What are you doing here?” 

Eddie struggles for something to say. Dustin is supposed to be gone. 

“Oh, Eddie left his dice. I gave him a call last night,” your voice calls from deeper in the trailer. 

The lie is easy and smooth.

“So, you gonna let me in or what?” Eddie jerks his chin up at Dustin. 

His hands are shoved into the pockets of his vest. The left one is wrapped around the condom he brought just in case you didn't have any. He’s almost afraid if he lets go it’ll fall out and Dustin will have more questions. 

Dustin pushes the screen door open to let Eddie in. When he enters he sees you standing over the kitchen sink. You shoot him an apologetic look over your shoulder. He returns it with a small understanding smile. Clearly, you hadn't planned on Dustin still being here either. You turn off the water, dry your hands on a nearby towel, and face him from the kitchen.

“I have the dice in my room,” you tilt your head toward the hallway. 

You lead Eddie to your bedroom. It’s at the end of the short hall, similar to his own. An unmade full bed is pushed into the far corner under the singular window. A dresser sits in the opposite corner with a couple framed pictures on top and what looks like a small silver urn. The wall behind your bed is adorned with an intricate forest green tapestry with the tree of life on it. 

“I’m so sorry,” you begin in a hushed voice.

“S’alright,” Eddie assures you.

“He decided to stay and I couldn't exactly tell him no,” you explain anxiously.

“It’s really alright, Henderson,” he gives you a reassuring smile. 

Your heart skips a beat. Part of you feared he’d be pissed. There have been plenty of guys in the past whose tempers were as short as their sexuality was confusing. Eddie notices the way you relax when you accept his words.

“Well, you’re welcome to hang out as long as you’d like,” you tell him.

“Maybe I should go. This probably wasn't a good idea anyway,” he says with a quick look over his shoulder. 

Dustin is still in the living room, Eddie can hear the tv. When his eyes turn back to you, your whole demeanor has changed. Your face is suddenly unreadable. Your stance is closed off. 

“Yeah, maybe you're right,” your voice is cold.

 Eddie starts internally panicking. Clearly he said the wrong thing, but he doesn't know what. 

“It’s not you,” he rushes to explain, “it’s Dustin.”

You roll your eyes.

“Don't use my brother as an excuse for whatever sexuality struggle you're having,” you whisper harshly.

Eddie’s hands find either side of his head. His fingers sink into his hair as he tries to understand how this situation turned on him. 

“I’m not having a sexuality struggle,” he argues, frustration beginning to bubble up.

“Whatever, Eddie. I’ve been through this too many times.”

“Through what? You're not actually fucking talking to me. Just talk to me,” he gestured wildly in the air, shaking his hands in a pleading motion. 

“Through assholes chatting me up, making me feel special, like maybe someone actually fucking likes me. Only to find out I was nothing but a novelty. I don't know why I thought you could be any different,” you explain bitterly with a shake of your head.

Eddie runs a hand over his face as he processes. Your words sting. They burn tiny lacerations into his skin. I don't know why I thought you could be any different. He never thought he'd be compared to the rest of Hawkins, always an outlier. You’re grouping him in with probably the worst Hawkins has to offer. Now that really fucking hurts.

“I do actually fucking like you. Why can't you get it's more complicated than that?” 

“Oh, I get it. You can't figure out what you’re feeling and you’re afraid it’ll make you gay. So, test it out with me and then move the fuck on like nothing ever happened,” you say while crossing your arms. You fold in on yourself, becoming smaller and smaller before Eddie’s eyes.

“I am gay-I mean not gay gay but-fuck,” Eddie struggles. 

The heels of his hands dig into his eyes as he tries to collect his racing thoughts.

“Just go, Eddie. We can pretend this never happened,” your voice is low, almost a rumble. 

“Will you just listen to me?” he demands frustratedly, voice raised. 

“Is everything alright?” Dustin appears in the open doorway. 

His face is full of concern and confusion. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Dust. Eddie was just leaving.”

Eddie gives you a desperate look. He pleads with those big brown eyes. When it's clear you’re done and this conversation isn't going any further he sighs.

“See you later, Henderson,” he mumbles as he pushes past Dustin. 

You’re not really sure which one of you it's directed at. Eddie isn't either.

***

You actively avoid Eddie the following week. It’s painfully obvious. He wants a chance to grab you. To talk to you and explain the misunderstanding. He's beginning to think you can sense that and that's why you’ve been so slippery as of late. The only time he really could is when you’re on your way to work, but he doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to make you late or upset you before a shift. 

Dustin opens the door the next time Eddie knocks. You’re still letting them play in your trailer, but you haven't been home the last couple sessions. He does his best not to let it bother him. It's fucking hard when Dustin keeps giving him these watchful, curious looks. Almost like he’s trying to decipher what happened just by studying Eddie’s face. These looks are peppered throughout the entire campaign, exhausting Eddie.

It feels like fate when you come home as he’s packing up. He gives you an unsure smile. You return it and go into your room. That’s something. That’s progress. At the end of the day, Eddie doesn't want you thinking so low of him. He hates knowing you think he'd use you as an experiment. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a piece of shit. 

“Dustin, if you need a ride home Steve is stopping by in a few minutes,” you call out from your bedroom.

When you walk back out you’re in a pair of dark blue shorts that fall to your mid-thigh, and a baggy white muscle shirt. You catch the expression Eddie was making before he managed to wipe it off his face. You pause between the kitchen and the front door. 

“What?” you question a little aggressively.

Eddie holds his hands up to his chest in surrender. The unwarranted attitude automatically sets him off.

“Put the gun away, jeez. I didn't know you’re friends with Harrington is all,” Eddie snaps back defensively. 

“Okay, what the fuck is going on between you guys? I thought you liked each other,  but now you’re acting like you hate each other,” Dustin interrupts exasperated. 

“Shut up,” the two of you say in unison.

Your head snaps to Eddie.

“Did you just tell my brother to shut up, Munson?” you demand. 

“You did too!”

“Because he’s my brother. Who the fuck are you to talk to him that way?” 

“Will you calm down?” Dustin demands.

“Dust-”

“No, this is so stupid. What happened?”

You grit your teeth. A sharp exhale exits your flared nostrils. Your eyes flicker to Eddie for a second. His face is red with frustration, his eyebrows are set, and his mouth is a thin line. You look back to Dustin's confused face.

“Jason,” you state flatly.

“Jason?” Eddie questions, absolutely bewildered.

Dustin’s face drops. His eyes squeeze shut as he sighs. You watch him slowly turn to look at Eddie. Eddie’s stomach sinks when he sees Dustin’s broken expression.

“Eddie, you didn't,” he pleads softly. 

Eddie’s eyes fly furiously between you and Dustin. He’s trying to grasp what the fuck is happening. Why did you bring up Jason? Why is Dustin looking at him like that?

“Didn’t what? What’s going on?” he asks, absolutely lost.

“You should go,” Dustin answers solemnly. 

“Jesus Christ, you fucking Hendersons don't know how to have a conversation to save your lives,” Eddie grumbles as he continues packing up his stuff.

“What’s that, Munson?” You demand, stepping forward.

“C’mon, don’t-” Dustin starts.

“Dustin, go wait outside,” you order without looking at him.

Your glare remains firmly on Eddie. Eddie who is glaring firmly back, only the battle map left on the table. 

“I’m not gonna wa-”

“Outside, now.”

Dustin huffs, but ultimately listens. Once the door is slammed shut behind him you march up to Eddie. Eddie backs up, but you don't stop. Soon his back hits the wall and there’s nowhere else to go. You stop directly in front of him and start aggressively poking his chest.

“Let’s get something fucking straight, Munson. If you’re going to be using my home for your stupid fucking childish fantasy game you're not going to talk about Dustin or me that way, got it?” you spat.

“Oh, now it's a stupid fucking childish fantasy game. That’s rich. You didn’t seem to think that when you were drooling over me DMing.” Eddie counters, still holding up his facade of confidence despite being cornered. 

“Please, don’t flatter yourself,” you scoff.

“I’m not. It’s pretty fucking clear you’re into me, sweetheart.”

“Yeah? And what are you? Completely indifferent? You get a hard on just from seeing me in shorts. You're pathetic.”

Eddie wants to be hurt. He wants to be hurt so fucking bad. His body has other plans in response to your words, though. Fire spreads to every limb. He has half a mind to bend you over the table right now and show you just how pathetic he is. He’s ready to make you an incoherent mewling mess so he can lean down and whisper who’s pathetic now? into your ear. 

“And you’re a fucking tease,” he snaps instead. 

“Holy shit,” you laugh sarcastically, “You’re getting turned on right now, aren't you?”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn't you?”

“Me? Munson, you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

The front door slams open. You whip around and Eddie’s eyes snap up to the door. Steve is standing there with his hands on his hips, looking completely unimpressed. 

“Alright, kids, what seems to be the problem here?” Steve asks.

He steps into the trailer with Dustin at his heels. Both you and Eddie are red, breathing heavily, and still standing within an inch of each other. 

“Steve, can you just bring Dustin home, please?” you try to sound less irritated, but it doesn't work very well.

“Okay, well, one, you said I could borrow your blue jacket. And two, I’m not going anywhere until you two explain what the fuck is going on.”

“Nothing, I’m just dealing with Jason Junior over here,” you answer, crossing your arms. 

Steve’s head lolls back briefly in exasperation.

“God, Eddie, not you too,” he groans. 

“Not me too, what? Can you guys stop being so fucking cryptic and tell me what you mean?” Eddie demands.

He’s absolutely over being compared to Jason out of everyone. You huff and walk away. The three of them watch you wander into your room and then back out. You throw the blue bomber jacket at Steve. He catches it with a frown.

“Everyone just get the fuck out of my house,” you grumble and stomp back to your room.

The door slams with such force Eddie is surprised he doesn't hear the wood splinter. All three boys flinch at the sound. Eddie scoffs to himself and starts to barge out. Steve stands in front of the door, blocking Eddie’s way.

“Move, Harrington,” Eddie orders.

“Not until you tell me what all that was about, Munson.”

“Can we do this outside?” Dustin interjects.

The three of them leave the trailer. You’re left alone in your room with nothing, but endless silence. Endless silence and that heavy feeling you get in your stomach whenever you just get done ruining everything. 

“Okay, can someone please tell me what the fuck all this Jason bullshit is about?” Eddie turns on Dustin and Steve once they’re a good few feet from the trailer.

Steve and Dustin exchange a look that Eddie doesn't like. They’re both privy to something about you that Eddie isn't. It’s not surprising, but it's surely irritating. Especially when everyone is talking about it like he knows too. 

“You remember that black eye Jason had inexplicably about four months ago?” Steve sighs.

“Yeah, it was a helluva shiner.”

“I gave him that.”

Eddie spends a moment just blinking. How is this relevant?

“Okay…” Eddie trails off, shaking his head to tell Steve to continue. 

“I gave him that because he’s a little prick that really fucked’em over,” Steve continued with a gesture over his shoulder at your trailer. 

“Wait… Jason? They were with Jason?” Eddie questions in disbelief. 

“Yeah, behind locked doors. Until Jason was done playing queer and got with Chrissy without saying anything,” Dustin says bitterly.

Hearing queer from Dustin’s mouth kinda stung Eddie, he won't lie. He knows Dustin meant it in a sexuality way, not derogatory. Something he likely picked up from you. Still, there’s something about someone decidedly straight saying it. 

“When they confronted him about it he… He said some not very nice things. It really fucked with them. Like really fucked with them. I mean he wasn't the first one to do something like that, but he was the worst one,” Steve explained, sounding irritated at the memory.

“I still don't get what that has to do with me,” Eddie rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“You tell us,” Dustin crosses his arms.

“I don't fucking know.”

“Just tell us what happened between the two of you,” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose, a hand in his hip.

Eddie tucks his hands in his armpits. He spends too long looking between Dustin and Steve. He really doesn't want to do this. He really really doesn't want to do this, but he also doesn't want to be put in the same league as fucking Jason. Frustrated that he’s backed into a corner for the second time today, Eddie wets his lips with his tongue.

“Fine, fine. We’ve been flirting. Last week we made out a little- the night you guys watched E.T.. I was supposed to come over the next day after you were gone so we could… y’know,” Eddie gestures awkwardly with his hands.

Both Dustin and Steve let out an ew.

“Yeah, anyway. You were still there. When we were talking in their room I said that maybe it's for the better that we didn't do anything. After that… I dunno what happened exactly. They started going on about me having a sexuality crisis, which isn't what was happening. I was just worried you would be pissed at me if we did do something,” Eddie finishes explaining. 

Dustin and Steve exchange a look again. Eddie hates this. He hates feeling put under a microscope. He hates that you’ve turned on him so quickly. 

“You sure you weren’t… experimenting?” Steve asks, jerking his chin up at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I got experimenting out of my system a long time ago, alright? I know who and what I like.”

Steve nods and rubs his jaw in contemplation. He glances once more at Dustin who wears a troubled expression. That troubled expression is aimed directly at Eddie.

“You're both pussies,” Dustin states.

“Excuse me?” Steve scoffs.

“Not you,” Dustin rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a pussy. I tried, alright? Whenever we talk now it’s just a fucking fight,” Eddie says heatedly. 

“You used me as an excuse. That’s why they think you’re full of shit. You flirt and make out then all the sudden you get concerned with what I think? It’s bullshit, Eddie. You just got scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of the possibility you could have feelings!”

Eddie’s jaw sets. His hands tuck back into his armpits, now his arms apply more pressure. Acid rises in his throat. The kid is right. It’s not that he has any crazy feelings right now, but he can feel them coming. Like a sneeze building up, he can sense the oncoming rush. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak to others, the way you speak to him. Eddie knows he could catch feelings fast if given the chance. When an out was presented, he took it. It’s the feelings that make this feel messy, not your relation to Dustin.

“Can we just fucking agree that I’m not Jason?” Eddie sounds more desperate than he’d like. 

“You’re not Jason, but you gotta get them to realize that,” Steve tells him.

Eddie sighs.

“I’m going inside. I’ll see you later,” he mumbles, turning on his heel. 

This conversation has him exhausted. You have him exhausted. He knows he has to find a way to talk to you. Talk, not argue. Not fall down a rabbit hole of aggressive sexual tension. Right now, though, he needs to take a fucking nap.

***

The short rap on the front door startles you. You wait for a beat where you lay on the couch. Another set of three knocks. Curiously, you answer the door. When you see Eddie standing with the screen door open you go to close it again. His hand flies out and stops the door from shutting.

“Will you just let me talk?” He huffs.

“Fine,” you sigh and go back to the couch.

You don't bother checking if he’s following. The screen door creaking shut followed by the front door lets you know. He sits delicately next to you. There's a few inches of space left between your legs. Eddie fiddles with the rings that have become a permanent fixture on his left hand. 

“So, talk,” you order.

“I’m not Jason, alright?”

“Cool, that it? You can see yourself out.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Eddie snaps. 

He tries to believe he made a valiant effort to stay calm. Your attitude irritates him more each time you show it. Eddie is a lot of things, patient in the face of unwarranted malice is not one of them. 

“You, you’re my fucking problem.”

“Me? Henderson, you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid,” Eddie turns your own words against you.

Your head snaps to look at him. Nostrils flaring, face red, and eyes full of contempt. 

“Please, Munson, you’re beneath me. You’re pathetic,” you sneer.

Jesus Christ, there's no reason your words went straight to Eddie’s dick the way they did. How are you able to play him with more skill than he does his guitar? 

“I wasn't pathetic when you were sucking my face off by the dumpster,” he counters.

“You act like I sucked your dick. It was a stupid kiss.”

“I remember you wanting to jump my bones after that stupid kiss,” Eddie mocks you.

Your fists clench in your lap. You’re about a second away from grabbing Eddie by his hair and showing him just how pathetic he is. 

“Yeah, then unfortunately for you, you kept running your fucking mouth.”

“Unfortunately for me? Trust me, sweetheart, you’re the one missing out. I woulda rocked your world, anyone else woulda been ruined for you,” Eddie’s voice is condescending with a challenging edge. 

You lean in slightly with narrowed eyes.

“I really doubt that.”

Eddie leans in some.

“Do you?”

You lean in even further.

“Yeah, I do.”

Eddie’s eyes flash down to your mouth before quickly moving back to your eyes. 

“Maybe I should prove it to you then.”

“Now who wants to fuck so bad they look stupid?” You smirk. 

“Fuck it, me,” Eddie breathes and closes the space between you.

His hands are on your face. His mouth moves furiously against yours sending shockwaves down your body. One of your hands takes hold of the back of Eddie’s hair. The other runs along his jaw until it’s circled around his neck. You force him away by tugging back on his hair and pushing forward on his throat. He looks so pretty like this with his big eyes wide as can be, all pupils. His face is flushed and his breathing is ragged. Eddie is pliant in your grasp.

“Look at you. Just as pathetic as I thought,” you coo teasingly.

“I’ll show you pathetic,” he grumbles.

In a blink, you’re flat on your back, wrists pinned above your head with one of Eddie’s strong calloused hands. He hovers over you. The heat radiating from his body soaks into your skin. The tip of his nose brushes against yours.

“You’re a real fucking brat, y’know that? Go on, admit it. Tell me you're a brat,” he hisses in your face, warm breath hitting your lips.

Your heart is pounding. Your body is heating up. Every part of you wants this so bad no matter how much you hate it. 

“You’re an asshole,” you hiss back.

Eddie’s rings are cold against your jaw. His grip is punishing as he manhandles your face. He presses his forehead to yours. Those huge brown eyes are commandeering as they lock onto yours.

“Am I gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you?”

You manage to let out a taunting laugh.

“You don’t have what it takes to fuck anything out of me,” you bite.

His grip tightens making talking impossible. Eddie's mouth brushes against your ear and his hair tickles your nose.

“I’m going to fuck you until the only words you know are Eddie, please, and more,” he whispers. 

You hate the shiver that runs down your spine. You hate how much he just turned you on, how much you want what he’s threatening you with. Every nerve ending is on fire. Eddie’s lips begin an assault on the soft bit of skin just below your ear. The sensation makes you squirm in delight. Eddie smiles against your neck.

“There you go, now you’re behaving. Now that you’ve finally shut the fuck up,” he taunts.

You glare at him, still unable to speak with his hand holding your face. That’s it. He’s been on you long enough. You’ve let him have control for long enough. Confusion flashes across his face when you smile. You lock your legs around Eddie’s waist. With a grunt, you launch your hips and legs up and over. 

Eddie lands with an annoyed noise on his back on the carpeted floor. You straddle him, wrists free. Now you grip both his wrists next to his head. You brandish a wicked smile as he looks up at you in surprise. Clearly he wasn't expecting to be bested at that moment. Your knees dig into the carpet uncomfortably around his hips, but you ignore it. Eddie’s slightly nervous expression takes your attention off of it. You lean in to brush the tips of your noses together like he did before. 

“What, big boy? Not feeling very confident anymore? You got no more to say?” you mock him quietly.

“I already said everything I need to say,” he mumbles back.

“What’s that, bitch? I didn't hear you,” your voice drips with venom. 

Something in Eddie completely snaps. He swears he hears the sound of it. A deafening CRACK SNAP POP. Then whatever wild animal that has been scratching at his insides bursts free. 

“Alright, I’m real fuckin’ tired of this attitude, sweetheart. Guess I’m gonna have to do somethin’ about it.”

You open your mouth to challenge him further. To berate him, degrade him. He can feel it. While it would only egg him on, only contribute to the growing erection in his pants, he won't allow it. He won't let you win control over this situation. Not this time. You’re already far too smug.

Eddie manages to rip his hands away from yours. In a blink, he’s sitting up. You place your hands flat on his chest to shove him back down, but he moves too fast. His hands are under your ass, scooping you up as he stands in a second. Instinctively, you wrap yourself around him to avoid falling. He has a firm steady grip on you, though.

“You won't be able to walk right when I’m done with you,” he growls, setting off for your bedroom.

“I just don't believe you’re good enough at sex for that,” you whisper into his ear with a smirk.

“Oh, I’ll make a believer out of you. My dick will have you meeting God and calling him by my name.”

He throws you onto your bed. The rough manhandling is something you never knew you wanted. It’s riling you up even more. 

“You got condoms or are we doing this raw?” Eddie questions.

“I have condoms, but we’re doing this raw anyway,” you answer smugly.

“Is that what you think?” he taunts.

He rummages around your bedside table. There’s a decent sized box of condoms that’s about three quarters of the way empty. Admittedly, you haven't touched the box in a while. It’s from another life that ended months ago. However, when Eddie teases you about them, you find yourself lying.

“Jesus Christ, you’re more of a fucking whore than I took you for,” he holds up the box, shaking it to emphasize how empty it is.

“I like sex, and I like cumming even more. Too bad only one of those things will be happening tonight.”

Eddie takes out a condom and throws the box back in the drawer. He unbuttons his pants and kicks them off unceremoniously. You can see the imprint of his dick hardening in his tight boxers. He looks down at you with hooded lustful eyes. Soon you’re staring at his bare dick, his underwear abandoned on the floor. It bobs throbbing and red, glistening with precum. 

“Get on your hands and knees. M’gonna use that big mouth of yours since you like havin’ it open so fuckin’ much,” he snaps.

You don’t know why, but you listen. Now that you’re on your bed with Eddie’s dick right there, all fight is gone. Eddie's hand grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes into your mouth. 

“Shit,” he moans as you welcome him in with a twirl of your tongue. 

He starts fucking your face slowly. You look up at him through your lashes. Eddie is watching you take him into your mouth like it's nothing. The eye contact makes you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he brushes the back of your throat. 

“Never thought I’d get you to shut the fuck up,” Eddie grunts as he picks up his pace. 

You try to remove your mouth. A scalding remark on the tip of your tongue. His grip on your hair tightens until it burns. His thrusts don't break.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. I plan on cumming down your throat before that loud mouth of yours starts up again.”

And fuck if that doesn't send you on a mission. Eddie doesn't even need to guide you after that, but it doesn't stop him. He refuses to relinquish control. He refuses to give you an opportunity to flip this on him. Finally, his hips stutter. Then he’s holding your head, calling out a resounding FUCK, and buries your nose in the dark hair at the base of his dick. You moan as Eddie shoots hot streams of cum down your throat. You take every last drop.

Once he’s finished, his grip on your hair loosens. You sit back on your heels. While making eye contact, you use the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. It’s a move that makes Eddie’s softening dick twitch.

“You had something to say?” Eddie's voice is raspy, but still condescending.

You narrow your eyes at him. As if he wasn't just using your mouth to get off, you cross your arms petulantly. 

“No, it’s okay. I don't think your fragile ego can handle it,” you shrug.

Eddie huff in disbelief.

“I just fucked my cum down your throat and your gonna call my ego fragile?”

“Seems so.”

“Just tell me what you were gonna fuckin’ say,” he orders, climbing into the bed over you.

Eddie crowding you causes you to lay back. Even in the compromising position, you smirk smugly. Eddie’s hair tickles your cheeks as he hovers over you. He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“It was nothing really… Just that Jason’s dick always managed to shut me up way faster than yours did,” you say casually, almost bored. 

“Jason’s di- are you seriously bringing him up right now?”

“Why, that bother you?”

“Considering I’m about to make you meet God like we talked about, yeah a little,” Eddie’s voice is breathy. 

He actually sounds a bit irritated.

“Never took you for the religious type.”

Eddie gets a wicked smile.

“‘M not, but you’re already in bed with the Devil, baby. Only one other Big Man to meet.”

“Big? Is that what you think of yourself?”

“Do you need a reminder? I’ll be happy to fuck that pretty mouth of yours again.”

Eddie leans down closer. Fuck, you want to kiss him. You don't. You won't let him know just how much you’re enjoying this. Instead you smile teasingly.

“You think my mouth is pretty?” You bat your eyelashes at him.

“Fuck, I hate to admit it, but… Not gonna lie, I think every part of you is unreal. Y’know, until you start talking.” 

You snake your hands up Eddie’s chest. Slowly and sensually, you make your way up his shoulders. Then you skirt up and around to the back of his neck until your fingers tangle in his hair. Eddie really likes when you play with his hair. You can tell by the way his eyelids droop a little more at the contact. He almost looks like he’s about to lean down and kiss you. So, you take your chance.

Your grip tightens tenfold. Eddie’s eyes widen as you pull him back, sitting up in the process. He hisses, but doesn't complain otherwise. You glide the tip of your nose up the side of his neck until you reach his earlobe. With a smirk, you angle your head up so you can speak into his ear. 

“I’m gonna use that big mouth of yours since you like having it open so fucking much,” you whisper, using his own words against him.

You swear you hear him breathe a curse. You let go of his hair, knowing he’ll follow you wherever you lead. Eddie is sure you could lead him into Mordor, up Mount Doom, and down into the lava like Sméagol. He’s sure that whatever painful obsession the ring of power imposed on Frodo, you just imposed on him. For better or worse. Eddie Munson is officially and completely captivated by you. You’re his precious.

That’s why he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't argue. He doesn't talk back. Instead he watches, waits patiently for you to settle into your pillows and peel off your shorts and underwear. Eddie happily, even eagerly, let’s you fuck his face like he did yours. You swear his tongue is magic. It’s hitting all the right spots, deft movements eliciting loud moans from you. 

“Look at you. Just as pathetic as I thought,” you say as your thighs clench around Eddie’s head, your fingers digging into his scalp.

All Eddie can manage is a moan as you fill his mouth. You don't take as long as Eddie did to finish. Him using you and cumming down your throat had gotten you close enough, closer than you care to admit. You cum with a loud moan, no actual words coming out. With your fingers tangled in his hair, you pull him up. He looks dazed, drunk on your taste. 

“At least your mouth is good for something,” you tell him with a slick grin. 

Christ, Eddie is a goner. He’s an absolute goner. This is so so bad.

“Look at you, you’re already all fucked out and we haven't even gotten to actually fucking yet. You’re really making me miss Jason…” you sigh dramatically. 

The mention of Jason again wakes Eddie up. A growl rumbles through his chest. His hand finds your wrist, applying enough pressure to get you to let go of his hair. He clambers over you, face real close to yours. There’s something hungry in his dark eyes. Something carnivorous.

“I’m gonna make sure you forget about fucking Jason,” he hisses.

“Fucking Jason is the one thing I like to remember,” you tease.

Eddie silently curses his own poorly placed fuck that gave you that opening. Hearing Jason’s name in the middle of this is seriously starting to grate his nerves.

“That’s it,” Eddie grumbles.

Before you can question him, he grabs onto your waist. With little effort he flips you onto your stomach. Your face is held sideways against your pillows. Eddie forces your hips in the air. You can feel the tip of his dick tease your entrance, causing you to twitch. 

“What happened to the condom, prude?” you spit at him from your compromised position.

“The whore wanted it raw, the whore will get it raw,” he growls back. 

It’s in that submissive state, Eddie’s rings digging into your scalp as he holds you down, him degrading you that you realize you’re a goner. You’re an absolute goner. This is so, so bad.

“What’re you waitin’ for then?” you question.

A loud SLAP rings out and a burning sensation spreads across your ass cheek. You gasp at the feeling. 

“This is for my pleasure, whore. This isn't about you. I’ll go as fast or slow as I like.”

On the last word Eddie pushes into you. He doesn't go too fast at first. Sure, he wants to fuck you until you can't walk, but he doesn't want to hurt you. The foreplay was minimal, slow is better for now. You whine as he bottoms out. Completely stretched out and full you can do nothing but grip the sheets on either side of your head. 

Slowly, Eddie begins to move. He’s so lost in the feel of you around him and his own mutterings of Jesus Christ that he doesn't register you speaking at first.

“What?” He breathes.

You cackle.

“Christ, Munson, you’re pathetic.”

There’s that word again. That fucking word. Eddie leans down, both of your damp shirts still on and sticking to each other. 

“Remember what I said earlier?” he whispers into your ear.

“I remember you saying you think I’m unreal,” you mock him.

He straightens back up.

“Yeah, yeah, keep talkin’ while you still can. Soon you’ll only be able to say Eddie,” he gives a single powerful thrust earning a moan from you, “please,” another powerful thrust, “more.”

Eddie sets off on a wild chase of his second orgasm and your delirium. Admittedly, that delirium was setting in very fast. His movements are quick, strong, and fluid. You can't think of anyone else who has fucked you like this. In a way you didn't realize you’ve been craving. In a way that doesn't make you feel like an object, a subject to be studied, or a novelty. Eddie makes you feel a person who is desired, even in spite of the animosity ripe between you. He makes you feel like a whore in the best way possible.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good,” Eddie groans as you tighten around him. 

He’s giving you so much already, but he was right. There are only three words you can think of right now. Only three words you think you’re capable of uttering.

“Eddie,” you moan.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

“Come again?”

“More.”

“Not sure I heard you right,” he says smugly, never breaking pace.

“Eddie, please, more,” you moan.

“Thought so.”

Eddie’s thrusts become animalistic. All the anger, frustration, name calling, and overall emotion from the rollercoaster that your relationship has been are being taken out on you. You start saying it like a mantra. Eddie, please, more. It’s a white flag, a surrender. It’s you telling him he’s won. Boy, oh, boy is it a sweet fucking sound. A sound that turns into a scream of a moan with your body tensing around him. He spills into you, hips flush against your ass. His own moans mingle with yours in the air. 

You collapse onto your stomach, Eddie close behind. He stays on top of you. After a minute of catching his breath he rolls off of you. You stay on your stomach as you come back to your senses. 

“You alright, Henderson?” Eddie’s voice is much softer than you’re expecting. 

You turn your head to face him. He’s watching you with wide eyes. How does he manage to look so innocent after everything he just did to you?

“Yeah, Munson, I’m peachy. You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He nods, eyes never leaving you. Your eyes don't leave him. What’s the point in trying to hide staring after all that? You don't care that he is and he doesn't care that you are. 

“So, you still miss fucking Jason?” Eddie asks playfully.

“Who?” 

“Good,” he smiles, looking awfully pleased with himself. 

“Do we still hate each other? I can't remember anymore,” you knit your eyebrows to feign confusion. 

Eddie laughs. It’s a low sound that rumbled through his chest. His eyes take on a gooey quality that you fear you may get stuck in.

“I think we might like each other now. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Sounds good to me.”

***

The scent of sex is thick and heavy in the air when you wake up. Golden light streaks across your face as the sun lowers beneath the horizon. When you shift to turn over and check the time on your alarm clock, a warm weight stops you. Eddie’s arms are around you loosely, holding you against his chest. Both of you are still in only your shirts. 

Carefully, you extract yourself. Eddie groans, but doesn't wake. You only bother with a new pair of underwear. Your stomach lets out a loud grumble and the hunger hits you. You take another look at Eddie’s sleeping form. The annoyance doesn't creep up at the sight of him anymore. Something else does in its place. Something you decide not to dwell on. All you know is if you’re this hungry, he’ll wake up hungry too.

Eddie wakes up to the smell of sex, bacon, eggs, and melted butter. It takes a second to get his bearings. The smell makes him think morning, but the position of the sun tells him it's evening. He crawls out of your bed and pulls his bottom layers back on. When he makes his way out to the main living area he finds you in the kitchen. You’re humming God Only Knows and pushing eggs around in a sizzling pan. Beside you is a plate of bacon and a plate of pancakes. 

There’s a moment where the only thing Eddie can do is watch you. You’re bathed in the last golden rays of the evening, nothing but that baggy white muscle tank and a fresh pair of black underwear. The song isn't one he goes out of his way to listen to, but Wayne has thrown it on a few times. Enough for Eddie to recognize the Beach Boys’ tune. 

“All that for you?” Eddie finally alerts you to his presence. 

You jolt a little in surprise and whip around to look at Eddie. A coy smile crawls upon your face.

“Uh- no. I woke up starving and figured you would too,” you shrug.

As if on cue, Eddie’s stomach lets out a loud growl. You laugh and gesture for him to sit at the table. The whole scene feels so… domestic. If something in Eddie snapped earlier, something else is connecting now. There’s a satisfying click in his head as the sensation of things finally being on the right track sets in. 

“Y’know, I didn’t peg you for a Beach Boys fan,” Eddie comments after a moment of only the sound of you scraping eggs around the pan.

You don't look at him, but Eddie swears he sees color rise to your cheeks.

“I’m not really. It… my dad used to sing that song all the time,” you explain, something close to troubled taking over your voice.

Eddie’s eyebrows raise. He’s never heard mention of Father Henderson before. Dustin only ever has complaints about your mom. Neither of you have mentioned a father until now.

“Dustin’s never mentioned-”

“He wasn't Dustin’s dad.”

You slide the scrambled eggs onto the last empty plate. Eddie watches you bring them over before grabbing a couple more plates for the two of you to eat from. Then some cutlery.

“I’m sorry if I brought up a sore subject,” he apologizes with big eyes as you sit across from him.

You begin shoveling food onto your plate.

“You didn't. I actually love talking about him, but my mom and Dustin have never really felt the same. So, I just don’t.”

“Do you want to talk about him now?” 

You finally look at Eddie. Eyebrows slightly raised, eyes a tad wider than normal, and a soft smile on your lips. He wonders if it's okay to reach over and kiss you. 

“His favorite song was God Only Knows by the Beach Boys, but I guess you probably figured that out.”

“Not a bad choice.”

You chuckle.

“I can't imagine you listening to the Beach Boys.”

“I don't, but Wayne does sometimes. God Only Knows is one of the only ones that doesn't make me want to rip my hair out,” he flashes you a playful smile.

“My dad would sing it whenever he was doing something boring. Laundry, dishes, but especially cooking.”

Eddie nods as he fills his own plate. There’s a couple minutes where the two of you eat in silence. Occasional voices could be heard outside, some cats, and the clinking of bottles as recycling goes out. The average soundtrack of Forest Hills.

“Can I ask what happened or is that not cool?” Eddie asks genuinely. 

He really doesn't know how to navigate this conversation. He doesn't want to piss you off or upset you in general. All he knows is how he would want to be asked and, honestly, he simply wouldn't. You don’t seem as closed off on that front as he is, though.

“Pancreatic cancer. My mom ended the marriage before the cancer did, though. Said it was too much for her to handle.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Eddie suddenly felt very guilty for asking.

You just shrug. 

“Where’s Dustin’s dad?”

“Who knows,” you snort, “he ran off with some woman from his job.”

“Jeez, your mom really has-”

“Poor choice in men? Yeah.”

“I was gonna say piss poor luck.”

You laugh, which loosens some of the tension that's built around the conversation. Eddie chuckles along, scarfing some food down in the process. 

“We would fly kites when it was nice out. Sometimes he’d bring me to the lake where we’d fish and swim. He liked going to the library a lot, too. I basically grew up in the mystery section. A lot of that was lost when the cancer got bad, though. All of it, really. All of it except that song. No matter how bad it got, he always sang that song,” you rattle on sadly, but with a smile.

It’s been so long since you've talked about him. It feels good. Like visiting him after a long time away. Memories are nice, but there’s something special about sharing them. It’s easier to relive them. Easier to enjoy them when you get to do it with someone else. Maybe it’s just because that someone else is Eddie. You think if anyone will understand, or at the very least respect, how it feels it'd be him. 

“What was his name?”

“Jack. Jack Coleman.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow. He narrows his eyes and leans in, pointing his fork in an accusatory fashion. 

“Wait, so, you’re not a Henderson? You’re a Coleman?” He questions.

You break out in a smile. 

“Guilty.”

Eddie looks like he was struck by lightning. Like the heavens just opened up and revealed the meaning of life to him. 

“Shit, wait… I do remember you!”

“No, you don't,” you shake your head, attempting to hide how mortified that sentence makes you.

“Yes, I totally do! All your friends called you Cole. You had those sick green vans,” he wears a goofy smile.

You feel heat crawl up your neck.

“You remember my vans?”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to flush bright red.

“Yeah, like I said, they were sick.”

“I still have’em somewhere. Maybe I’ll break’em out one day,” you smile.

Both of you clear your plates after that. You really were hungry. It’s an amicable silence. One that grows more uncomfortable in your chest because you know another hard conversation has to be had.

“I know you’re not Jason, by the way. I mean, I know now. Sorry I jumped to conclusions. I've been through a lot of Jasons,” you tell him softly.

Eddie offers a soft smile.

“S’alright. Would you tell me what happened there? I can't imagine you with fuckin’ Jason.”

You chuckle.

“Yeah, he asked me for help at work and then started saying all the right things. The dating pool for me in Hawkins is small. So, when he said he didn't want anyone to know I said okay. When he pretended not to know me in public I said okay. Then, one day, he was just…,” you frown at the memory of them walking down the street holding hands, “with Chrissy Cunningham. I asked him about it, but he was pissed I called his house. Called me about every derogatory name you can think of.”

Eddie could actually kill Jason. He already hated him, but now he’s actively cursing the ground the asshole walks on. How could he treat you so shitty? How could he not feel grateful he gets to be in your presence in this capacity? 

“Well, I’d like to keep doing this. As public as possible. I want everyone to know I’m with someone this unreal,” he keeps his tone playful, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes. 

Your heart starts pounding against your chest. Eddie is sitting across from you offering you everything you’ve ever wanted in a relationship. Someone who not only wants to be with you, but is proud to be with you. It’s almost too much. 

“So, you're with me now, huh?” you tease.

“I sure am,” Eddie teases back with a wolfish grin.

“Maybe let's start with an actual date.”

“You asking me out, Hen-Coleman,” he places emphasis on getting the last name right. 

A smile forms on your lips. You don't have an issue with being called a Henderson. The different last name is why so many people don't know you and Dustin are related. So, you don't correct people anymore when they call you Henderson. The reminder that you're technically only half siblings has always upset Dustin.

“Yeah, I think I am, Munson.”

“Then I expect to be picked up at seven sharp. You better have flowers and chocolates. I’m expensive to date.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Eddie helps you clean without you asking. He takes over the dishes, scooting you out of the way and instructing you to dry and put them away. 

“I dunno where anything goes,” is his excuse.

Really, he just wanted to take on the more arduous task for you. A sort of repayment for making him food. The effortless kindness you've met him with after the sex you had. The angry, heated sex. Eddie finds it kinda funny how the two of you have fallen into this little exchange of kindness and good will considering how the day began. 

When the dishes are all done and put away, Eddie begins awkwardly fiddling with his rings. It feels like his time with you is coming to an end. He doesn't want to overstay his welcome, but fuck does he want to stay. Just hanging out with you like this makes him feel… normal. He doesn't feel like the Freak, the drug dealer, or the fuck up. He just feels like Eddie and, for the first time, he feels like maybe that's enough. 

“Is it really dumb to ask you to stay?” you ask him suddenly.

You’re standing across the small kitchen, having just put the last of the plates away. Eddie looks at you with wide, excited eyes.

“Awe, you wanna spend more time with me, Coleman?” Eddie coos teasingly. 

“Alright, forget I said anything,” you roll your eyes with a smile.

Eddie lets out a laugh.

“I’ll stay until you kick me out,” he smiles back. 

You don't kick him out until you have to go to work the next afternoon.

***

The next time Dustin calls to beg for permission for Hellfire to meet at your place, you agree without hesitation. The day before you work, but only until five. Eddie is waiting in his van in front of the store when you exit, a lit cigarette between his lips. You smile and hop in. 

“I wasn't expecting you to pick me up,” you say as you buckle your seatbelt.

You know he had work at the record store today. Eddie takes one last drag of his cigarette and puts it out in the cup holder on his side. He’s been doing that ever since you yelled at him for flicking his butts out the window. 

“Got out at four. I’m not gonna let my precious Coleman walk home if I can help it,” he shows off a goofy smile and starts to drive. 

“You think I’m precious,” you coo.

“More precious than the One Ring,” he coos back.

“Okay, you've lost me.”

Eddie glances at you in disbelief.

“You have Henderson as a brother and you don't know Lord of the Rings?” 

“Oh, that’s those books that read like textbooks, right?”

“Read like- Jesus Christ, I might have to rethink this whole situation,” he says to himself.

“Sorry,” you laugh, “I don’t have much time for reading. So, when I do, if it's not simple and to the point, I can't get into it.”

“Lord of the Rings is art. It’s a painting on paper.”

“Aren’t all paintings on paper?”

“Canvas,” he corrects, “you’re makin’ me feel real smart today.��

“Glad I can be of service,” you say sarcastically. 

“Seriously, though. That’s like… my favorite thing other than D&D and music,” his voice is more tender, more serious.

And you, he thinks. It’s far too early to admit that. Doesn't mean he doesn't feel that way, though.

“Maybe I can give it another go,” you shrug.

Eddie throws a soft smile your way. You hold onto the warmth it fills you with for as long as you can. Eddie ends up staying the night, which isn't much of a surprise. It was clear he was expecting it because he brought his D&D bag with him. It did make setting up the next day easier since he was already there. 

By the time Dustin shows up Eddie is all set up. You’re laying on the couch, Eddie is crouched beside you. His face is close to yours, a sly smile present. You’re busy giggling like a maniac at whatever he must have said. Dustin lets the screen door fall shut behind him. The sound of it slamming startles you and Eddie. 

“What’s going on?” Dustin asks suspiciously. 

Eddie smiles widely.

“Just telling Coleman here what’s in store for you guys today,” he says easily. 

Dustin visibly stiffens. He doesn't find this situation as amusing as the two of you seem to.

“Coleman,” Dustin states, eyes set on you.

You can see the hurt. It’s been so long since you've corrected someone on your last name. You didn't think about how the sudden change might make Dustin feel rejected.

“Yeah, y’know, their last name,” Eddie eggs the conversation on, unaware of the ugly feelings bubbling up.

“I know their last name, Eddie,” Dustin snaps. 

That clues Eddie into the sore nature of the subject. He glances apologetically between you and Dustin. 

“Dustin, don’t be rude,” you chide.

“You two were at each other’s throats the last time I saw you together and you’re telling me not to be rude?” 

“Well, we’re not at each other’s throats now. So, yeah, I am,” you begin catching Dustin’s own attitude. 

You sit up, causing Eddie to stand. 

“Whatever, it’s bullshit and you know it,” he rolls his eyes and throws his bag down next to the chair he usually occupies. 

“Excuse me, what’s bullshit?” You question and stand up.

Eddie is watching helplessly. He can't help but feel like he incited this situation. Dustin gestures widely at the air around you and Eddie.

“You telling me what to do. You guys are friends today, but tomorrow you’ll probably be fighting again. Isn't that how it goes with you?”

Any emotion falls from your face. Your hands shake a bit. You won't let them see you break. You won't derail their night. Besides, Dustin is right. You and Eddie are good now, but you like to blow up all the good things in your life. Ever since your father died, the idea that anything good may be permanent feels more like a pipe dream. It’s easier to discard good things before good things discard you.

“Yeah, it is. I’m going to be in my room. Have fun with your campaign,” you mumble and storm past him to your room.

The door doesn't slam. It clicks shut calmly, which is scarier. Eddie rounds on Dustin. 

“What the fuck is your problem, Henderson?” he demands.

“I don't have a problem.”

“You wanna talk about bullshit? What is it? Am I not good enough-”

“Eddie, you know that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

Dustin takes a second. He sighs, closing his eyes, and then opening them once more.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

The waver in Dustin’s voice throws Eddie off. His features soften as he looks at Dustin. Guilt washes over him. Sure, Dustin might be younger and Eddie might see him as a protege, or a younger brother, but he’s still one of Eddie’s best friends. Fuck, this was really shitty of him. He should have told Dustin he’s into you, regardless of how obvious it was. He should have told him you two have hooked up and are seeing where things go. Maybe not official, but exclusive. Instead, he acted like it didn't matter. Like it didn't matter that he’s seeing his best friend’s older sibling. Eddie runs an anxious hand over his face, stopping at his chin to hold it in thought.

“I’m really sorry, Dustin,” is all he can say in the end.

“I don't want an apology. I want an answer. I asked you so many times, Eddie. Every time you just dismissed me. I’m not stupid! And I don’t care! I’m happy for you, for both of you. I just… I just really wish you told me.”

Eddie takes a shaky breath. Dustin's words fall heavy on his shoulders. They're a weight he can tell he’ll be carrying for a while. 

“I should’ve. I was afraid of what you'd think. What you’d say. It’s not an excuse, I know, but… I dunno I think this is real, man. It feels real.”

Dustin does what Eddie thought he may never do again. He hugs him. It takes Eddie a second to register, but once he does he hugs back tight. He’s hopeful when they separate. 

“I think it’s great. Seriously, you both look really happy. But if you hurt them, Eddie, I’ll get Steve to beat you up.”

Eddie nods with wide eyes.

“Understood.”

“Okay, I have to go apologize,” Dustin sighs. 

Eddie watches him disappear to your room. Mike and Will come strolling in. Eddie thanks whatever is out there that they showed after all that. 

***

“So, we’ve been doin’ this a while now,” Eddie says, head lolling over to look at you.

You’re in your bed, fully clothed. These nights are Eddie’s favorite. Together in bed for the sake of being together in bed and nothing else. Eddie’s hair is splayed out behind him. The singular telephone pole light outside exposes the blush on his cheeks. It makes you smile. You like that you do that to him. 

“I s’pose we have,” your voice is soft and quiet.

“D’you maybe wanna make this an official thing?” 

He looks shy, nervous. It’s adorable. 

“I’d love to be an official thing with you.”

“Metal,” he breathes with a smile.

You chuckle and press a joyful kiss on his lips. When you pull away Eddie can tell you have an idea. Your smile gets this funny little quirk when you get an idea.

“Since we’re an official thing, I guess you should formally meet my father,” you try to sound serious.

Pure confusion crosses Eddie’s face. You gesture to the set up on your dresser. A small urn and some photos. Understanding and then mischief lights up his face. He hops out of bed and stands before the dresser. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Eddie says and bows as if addressing a king. 

You let out a little laugh. Then he’s staring tenderly at the photos. One from your third birthday. You're on your father’s lap covered in cake. Another is from one of the times he took you fishing. You’re around six in that particular photo. The final photo shows you at eight. Your father looks so much older despite it only being a few years. He’s paler, thinner, and more tired looking. You’re tucked into bed with him, asleep. Eddie can only assume it's the last photo you took with him. 

“You were a cute kid,” he comments adoringly and jumps back into bed.

“What, I’m not cute now?” you tease.

“No, you're unreal now, remember,” he smiles.

You chuckle.

“You’re unreal too, Munson.”

One thing’s for sure, Eddie was right. This official thing is definitely real and it’s definitely it for both of you. 

[eddiesguitarskills]

It can’t all be bullshit Part 2

Read part 1 here

Eddie Munson x fem Reader x Steve Harrington (unfortunately no Steddie in this)

Summary: pinning after your best friend can be hard, especially when he doesn’t like you back. You were trying to get over a crush the last thing you needed was another.

AN: this is all I've written for the story, so I won't be as fast updating. Also, I'm sorry I write a lot for female-presenting readers it's just I find it easier to write it like that, especially with my dyslexia. However, if you guys want I can start reuploading the story with non-gender descriptions just might take it longer to edit it.

Warnings: Angst, use of Y/n, mention of break ups, miscommunication, sexual themes but no smut readers discretion is advised. Drug and alcohol use, and swearing.

word count 3.7kish

Monday morning came around quickly, which you were glad about. The sooner you could get away from that awful weekend, the better. Eddie hadn’t remembered anything from that night, or if he did, he didn't mention it. You were also glad that you didn’t want another argument, and you definitely didn’t want details on his love life. Not that you hadn’t thought about it, your brain was too cruel to not make you dwell on it, you also thought about Harrington was he okay? Not that you cared about him of course just one human looking out for another. If you happen to be looking around to see if he made it to school that would be out of curiosity not because you cared. Thankfully his locker was near to yours so you would eventually see how he was, to be honest with how the gossip spreads in this school you would hear about it eventually if the king and queen of Hawkins really had broken up. 

I don't hear anything about it until a week later at lunch. You were a little late as you had been stuck talking to your English teacher, Miss Plant, and you felt too rude to leave despite the rumbling in your stomach. As soon as you got to the table, a conversation began. “Do you reckon his head hurt?” Eddie joked. “Whose head?” you said while sitting in your seat beside Eddie. “The king when he fell from his throne”. You were beyond confused. Were they talking about a new campaign? You couldn't remember a king in your current D&D campaign. Maybe you had been too busy dazing at your leader at the meetings to notice if there was a new character. You didn't want to feel stupid, so you nodded like you understood. It wasn't until the conversation continued and you heard the mention of Nancy Wheeler you understood. You knew Eddie and Steve didn't like each other, but some of his words seemed too harsh. You saw what Harringtons' wrath could be like, and you didn't want Eddie on the receiving end. You picked at your peas, not daring to look up, and you knew how they would all tease you about nagging again. “Maybe we shouldn't talk about this”. Eddie raised his eyebrow, stopping his rant. “Why are you scared?” he challenged. You shrugged back.

Everyone was surprised. You hadn't nagged, you hadn't come back at him, you had stayed remarkably calm. Eddie wanted to see how long it would take you to snap, but he didn't have a chance when Chris, taking the hint, changed the subject. “So when’s the date, Eddie?” Not realising this would be the thing to make you snap. Since when did he have a date? Indeed it wasn't with what's her face from the party? You thought he didn't remember anything from that party, and if he did, why hadn't he apologised to you yet? “Well, she wanted to come over on Thursday, but I don't know” he looked at you to gauge a reaction; that was your weekly bowling night. Don't shout. It's okay. It's only the night you look forward to most, and you don't have much to look forward to. It doesn't matter. Well, maybe it does, but not to him anymore. “Have fun” you say standing to leave the table, dumping the food on your tray. Any hunger you had felt had gone and was replaced with nausea.

You needed somewhere to hide because you weren’t going to the next period. You needed someone to cry or scream or both. So you disappeared to Eddie’s spot in the woods. You hold onto yourself for warmth, looking down, trying to be careful not to trip on the twigs hidden in the mud. You finally make it to the table without an accident when you see out of the corner of your eye a guy. You pray it's not Eddie or someone here for a deal. It was the last thing you needed. You weren't sure if you would keep your cool this time round, especially with the stupid tears that kept lining your eyes.

“I didn't think anyone else would be here”, he spoke. It wasn't Eddie, but it was someone you also didn't want to bump into. You hoped after that night you would never have to come face to face with Harrington again. “Sorry, I can go,”you say, hoping to make a swift exit. “No, it's fine, I don't own the woods”.

There is an awkward silence. You debated getting up to leave, but you were stuck there frozen. “Looks like I’m not the only one having a shit day.” You don’t dare look up. Yeah, you were having a bad day, but it didn’t feel right to compare it to a breakup. “Mine nothing compare to yours”. You look up quickly. You didn’t mean it to sound that way. “No, I meant I’m fine. I’m sorry about what happened”. God, did you sound as dumb as you thought? “So I guess everyone knows now”. You shake your head “just because I know doesn’t mean everyone knows”.

He weakly chuckles, but there is no humour behind it: “It kind of does. It’s made its way down to the bottom of the food chain”. Steve’s eyes widened. Shit, he didn’t mean to sound like that. “No offence”. He couldn’t help being how he was. Having to put up an act for so long makes it hard to realise when he was being a dick. “None taken”. You shrug. You were used to the name-calling by jocks, so his words felt like nothing. “So what happened to you?” You twiddle with the ring Eddie gave you on a chain. “Don’t worry about me”. Steve smiles. “It’d be nice to worry about something else for a change. So is it a guy?” You laugh at him. “Do you think all girl's problems revolve around a guy?”. He nods.” Well, that is very guy-like of you, but yeah, you’re right. This time, it’s a guy.” Steve’s face lights up with a smirk. “I knew it! So what happened.” You go to speak but look up, realising it is not a friend you are talking to. It’s a popular kid. Even worse than that, it’s the king of Hawkins high. “Just typical guy stuff.”

Steve took the hint you didn’t want to get into it, so they changed the subject. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but Can you not tell anyone I was here? If Principal Coleman finds out I cut, I’m dead” You almost wanted to laugh; the Principal would find out, but looking at his face, you knew he was deadly serious. “who would I tell?” He shook his shoulders. “I don’t know”. You smiled. “Exactly. I’m gonna have to start charging you for all the secrets I keep”. He looked utterly lost. “Huh?”

Eddie sauntered over, his metal lunch box in hand. He could only see Harrington and the back of a girl’s head. So he didn’t know who it was. “My spots are popular today. I’ve even got King Steve, and I assume his new plaything here.” You turn around to face him. Now was not the time for his antics. “Leave it, Eddie” you sneered. The boy’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Absolutely not” he grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the woods away from Steve.

After many tries, you finally got out of Eddie’s grasp. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”. The boy rolled his eyes, “saving you”. You repeated his facial expression, “I didn’t need saving”. He tutted and slung his arm around you. “You were about to be Harrington’s next prey; trust me, you needed saving.” You pushed him off. “We were just talking”. Eddie looked at you like he was telling off a child, not a friend and definitely not someone he fancied “That’s how it starts”. You hated that he treated you like you didn’t know how the world worked. “I don’t see why you care”. He shook his head. “I’m your best friend, of course I care”. There it was, the famous last words of any crush. You were officially friend-zoned, and you would never get out of that. You felt deflated, so you just nodded and followed him to his van and then trailer.

A month later you were going to another party this time it was your idea. Getting over this crush had been more challenging than you had planned, so you decided to do something the opposite of what you usually would. Tonight, you would act like all the other teenagers and drink till you forget. Or find someone to help you forget. When you told Eddie you were going, he insisted he took you despite your protests. How are you supposed to get over someone when he doesn't leave you alone? You had bought an outfit for tonight because your usual outfit of jeans and a tee didn’t feel fitting. So you bought a red tight spaghetti strap dress, you thought about wearing heels you put them on, but as soon as you wobbly stood up like Bambi on ice, you realised it wasn't the best idea, so you put on your black trusty Converse. It's nice to have familiarity and not feel like Bambi on ice when trying to catch someone up. You hear several impatient beeps outside; you would think you had made him wait for hours when he had only just arrived 30 minutes late, of course. Life is always on Eddie’s schedule. You just wanted to get to the party and out of his sight, so you grabbed your bag put on a layer of lipgloss and ran outside to Eddie’s van.

He had the window down. He looked at your outfit and shook his head. “You’re gonna freeze”. You were sick of his new habit of babying you; was this what you sounded like to him? Was this just him mocking you? The girl from the last party poked her head out. “I think you look hot. I’m Sasha (sorry if this is your name she is nice though) by the way”. You nod. “Y/n”, he brought her, of course he brought her. She was nice. Why did she have to be nice? It's easier to dislike someone when they are a bitch, not a beautiful soul like hers. You were even more jealous now you wish you could be more like her than you. You got into the back of the van as Eddie drove (over the speed limit) to the party. Sasha was super friendly along the way and kept asking you questions to get to know Eddie’s best friend more. The boy stayed quiet, in thought. He was struggling to keep his eyes on the road as he kept looking at you through the rearview mirror in disbelief. 

When you finally got to the party, you found your way to the punch bowl, the pair not leaving your side. You picked up a red cup, filling it with the content of the bowl, whenever that may be. Before you could even put it to your lips. Eddie took the cup from your hands, pouring it back into the bowl, Tutting at you. “Are you okay tonight? You’re acting weird”. God, you were sick of his stupid face and stupid comments, but then it struck you this was your way out from the couple, from him. “You know I’m feeling a little weird. I’m gonna go to the toilet… it’s probably because of my period”. It was a lie, but you knew it would stop him from following you.

You went up the stairs and poked your head into a room, hoping it would be the bathroom. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t; Steve Harrington sat on a bed, his leg tapping anxiously and anxiously. why did you two seem to have a universal magnet. “Sorry”. He looked up at you. You went to leave but were stopped by his voice calling, “Wait, you’re the girl who ditched me”.

“The girl?” You repeated him. “I have a name. It’s y/n, and I wouldn’t exactly call it ditched.” He laughed, getting up and shutting the door behind you. “What would you call it? I know it’s not your fault, though, was your boyfriend jealous?”. You glare at the thought, “he’s not my boyfriend”. He laughs. “Does he know that?” You turn to leave. “I’m not in the mood for whatever this is”. He holds your hand not too tightly, so if you want to go, you can, bringing you to the bed to sit down. You are stocked by yourself that you don't push him away, but the gentleness of this action makes your heart flutter. Maybe Steve Harrington could help you forget. “So he’s the one that made you cry”. Maybe not. You put your hands on your face, embarrassed “Is it that obvious?”. He pulls your hands away from your face, shaking his head. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t see how beautiful you are”. You want to smile at his words, but they make you cringe. “Is this how you get all the girls?” He sighs. God, he had just been broken up with; maybe it was too soon to mention girls. “I’m sor-“ he puts a finger to your lip. “You apologise far too much”. You nod. “I just don’t want you to bite my head off again”, you mumble, fiddling with the end of your dress.

“When did I do that?” He had no clue what you were talking about, so why did you even mention it? “It doesn’t matter” you keep your eyes down. He uses his hand to lift your chin so you’re looking at him. “When did I do that?” He says as genuinely as he can. He was trying to be better, a more likeable guy, and if he wanted to do that, he needed to right his wrongs. “It wasn’t your fault; it probably just seems worse in my head because I wasn’t enjoying myself…and Eddie was being a dick and-“ he puts his hand on yours to calm you. “It was Halloween; I think you and Nancy had just had an argument. I guess you needed someone to take your rage out on, and I just happened to be there”. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. Annoyed at himself, he couldn’t look at you. “It’s fine; I swear it wasn’t that bad. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here. You just told me to fuck off and said bullshit a lot”. He looks over at you. “So you know what happened with Nancy?” you nodded “I got the gist”. He nudged your shoulder with his “thanks for not telling anything”. You laugh. “As you said in the wood, I’m the bottom of the food chain. I've got no one to tell.”

He wanted to beat himself up; he had fallen so far into the idea of popularity that he became what he swore he would never be a dick. “You aren’t, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that.” You squeeze his hand. “Don’t go soft on me. I'm quite content being there . It means I can fade into the background”. He holds both of your hands and looks you up and down until his eyes land on yours. “Someone like you isn’t meant to fade into the background”. You don’t know what comes over you; maybe it’s how nice he’s being, that you had never been called pretty by a boy, or how handsome he looked, but you lean in and kiss him. Maybe it’s because you recognise the broken mess hidden behind his eyes. You instantly realise what you’ve done. You couldn’t blame alcohol for this. You had still never drank. You’re about to pull away when Steve brings his hands to your hips and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. “Where” kiss. “Do you” another peck “think” another “you’re going?” You giggle into his mouth and further the kiss. Your hips were rolling against his, which was out of your control, not that you or Steve minded. You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t taste the beer on his lips until he put his tongue in your mouth. You tried to ignore it, but after a few moments, that’s all-consuming your brain: the metallic taste of it. 

Steve could tell you wasn’t really into it anymore, so he pulled away. He started to feel insecure. He hadn’t kissed a girl since Nancy had. Had he already lost his touch? “are you okay? Didn’t you like-“ you shake your head animatedly. The action makes your whole body shake against him, making him moan. God, he was super embarrassed now. He moved you off him before anything got more awkward, especially if you were to feel the semi he was sporting. Jesus, why were you so in your head about everything you had a way to forget, and you ruined it? “I really liked it” he refused to look at you, too self-conscious about the situation. He kept his eyes on the ceiling fan above him. “It’s fine, y/n”- you feel awkward, too, so you keep your eyes on the door in front of you. “I just get so in my head sometimes, and I don’t drink, so I tasted alcohol and- I don’t know” You got frustrated at yourself not being able to find words. You sounded like a complete idiot. No wonder Eddie didn’t want you. 

Steve looked at you and started laughing, even though he thought you were stupid. “Wait, so the Alcohol is cock blocking me?” He wasn’t laughing at you. You felt a relief wash over you. He was laughing at the situation. His laugh was so contagious and charming you don’t think you’ve ever heard it. Before you know it, you can’t help but laugh too. “What did you think you were a bad kisser or something?”. He hit your shoulder playfully. “Of course not” He joked. 

There were suddenly loud moans from the room next door. You both look in that direction and laugh again. You do a silly impression of the moan. Steve stops laughing and stares at you, surprised at how good you are at making that sound. She must have had a lot of practice faking it to be that good, he thought. The moaning next door suddenly got louder. You raised your eyebrow at him “wanna play a game?”. You don't know what had come over you, but something about him relaxed you. You didn't feel the anxiety you would feel around your friends, making sure they were safe. You just wanted to have fun. You hadn’t been like that in so long.

Free to just be yourself. He raised his eyebrows back. “I'm listening”. You moan again, louder this time. He didn't expect that. He wanted to laugh because it came from nowhere, but it turned him on. “Come on then”. (totally inspired by Easy A here) You whisper. He got the hint and moaned, too, not as loudly, though. You kept doing this back and forth, both getting more exaggerated and louder. It was hard not to laugh at how ridiculous you sounded. Next door suddenly got very quiet. “I think we won”, he nudged your arm. You burst out laughing. He had never noticed you before, but he was glad he had you tonight. He needed a laugh. He doesn't remember the last time he had actually had fun with worrying about the consequences.

There was a bang on the door. “Are you in there, y/n!?” you suddenly stop laughing and roll your eyes upon hearing your best friend’s voice. “Looks like your boyfriend’s jealous again”, Steve joked without thinking. But he then started to panic that maybe you weren’t friends yet. Was it his place to jok- you smack his arm. “Shut it, bullshit boy” you tease back. He would have hated hearing that from anyone else. But from you, he didn't mind. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it's because there was no malice in your voice. Perhaps it's because you had made his awful night better. His week is better. There is another bang on the door “y/n!” you glare at the door. Of course, he had to ruin your fun.

Wasn't it bad enough that he was breaking your heart? “I should go before he bursts a vein or something”. You get up to leave despite the voice in your head telling you to stay.  “Thank you for tonight. I really need it”. You kiss his cheek. He smiles, feeling his cheek getting warmer and his heart beating faster. No, he wasn’t ready; he couldn't let this happen like this. “ I'm trying to be better, so I don’t want to lead you on. I don’t want a girlfriend”. You shake your head, going to leave the room, and scoff, “In your dreams, bullshit boy”. He shouts after you, hoping you can hear, “I'm not sure about this new nickname”. 

Outside the door, Eddie has his hands on his hips like a parent. “Were you just in there with Harrington?” he says the name like it’s venom. “Yeah, so” just because he was your best friend, he had no right to tell you who to hang out with. You used to think his protective side was endearing, but now it was annoying. You couldn’t say anything about who he hung out with, so he can’t say anything about who you choose to spend time with. Well, that’s what you thought, but Eddie had other ideas, “are you trying to kill me?” He asks like it’s a serious thing that could happen. “Oh yeah, top of my to-do list” There you were, the person Eddie loved, the one with a comeback for everything, but now wasn’t the time for him to bask in your teasing contest that he lived for. No, when there was only a door between you and Harrington, that was too close for comfort for Eddie. He wasn't sure what the new relationship between you and the ‘king’ was, but he didn't like it one bit. 

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[z-moves]

All my money was refunded by mistake.

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[mostly-mundane-atla]

Hi! Your blog is awesome. I don't know if I'm allowed to ask non-atla questions, so I hope this is okay. I'm working on a non-avatar ttrpg campaign that takes place both in a (fictional/fantasy) northern tundra region AND during a magical endless winter. The people in it aren't based on any specific culture but, given that they're successfully living in similar environments & have for countless generations, I want to draw as much inspiration & knowledge from real-life circumpolar cultures & native science as much as possible. Do you have any advice or even just fun, underappreciated ideas for winter tundra survival, things someone who grew up in a desert like me wouldn't think of on my own? If you need/want more direction: I'm particularly looking for clothing, shelters, resource gathering-practices for non-food (esp what kinds of resources would be valuable), as well as like, any fun details that evolve naturally in a culture that formed in the tundra that you'd want to see represented. I hope that makes sense ^^; Thanks so much if you decide to answer, have a good day either way <3

[I am SOOO sorry this took so long! Tumblr kept not saving my progress when i tapped "save draft" so i had to rewrite a few of these passages a few different times]

Don't worry about asking, friend, i get cultural questions all the time and i'm happy to share.

Note: my knowledge is almost entirely based on coastal tundra peoples with access to marine mammals. That's not to say it's impossible for people to live farther inland, just that it's not my area of expertise.

Clothing

Just about everything you wear is going to come off of a dead animal. This doesn't necessarily need to be the case if your fictional culture has a means of raising hardy livestock for fiber and a history of woven textiles, but even then skin clothes are warm and generally quite hard-wearing and are a good fit for living in these circumstances.

This amount of fur means lice are a perpetual problem. If you want to make that an immersive part of the game, you can work in a mechanic for checking scalps and clothing and bedding for lice.

Bird skins can also be used for clothing and waterfowl specifically has the benefit of water resistance. Fish skin can also be used for similar properties. Animal intestines can be made into a waterproof material if sewn with sinew and soaked before finishing.

On that note i'd recommend making a list of available animals and what qualities and textures their skins and furs have. Even if you don't intend on being incredibly descriptive with clothing, it's something better to have and not need than need and not have. And if you do anything else creative in a similar setting you have your nifty little source to consult.

When it comes to the actual construction of the clothes, you want a loose fit. Trapped air ia a great insulator and you want clothes to be easy to move in. Another benefit for loose-fitting upper body garments in cold weather is you can pull your arms in and keep them by your much warmer core. Not only will this option keep you comfortable, it can also prevent muscle injury or getting frostbite

Mittens can be worn on a string yoke. This doesn't have to be exclusive to children either. Wind can pick up out of nowhere and lost mittens means fingers exposed to arctic cold which can mean gangreen and amputations down the line.

Swimming or running to deliver a message may involve stripping nude, even in cold. Clothes soaked in water or sweat are deadly in the cold.

Clothes may be stored in bags outside when not in use. The low temperatures can kill bugs and bacteria. On a similar note, boots and coats are best to be hung to dry as soon as one is indoors for the day. This may mean it's normal for people to be topless indoors.

Boots should never have holes or tears. Frostbite and resulting gangreen is already bad enough but you especially do not want it on your feet

Shelter

You're going to want dwellings to have as few rooms and windows as possible and small doors. The fewer walls you have, the easier it is for heat to circulate throughout the whole dwelling. You'll probably want one room separating the door and where you sleep. Remember: trapped air is a great insulator.

The culture I've reconnected with is semi-nomadic so the permanent houses are not always occupied and a village can seem abandoned when it's just on its "off season". You can take that or leave it depending on what you're going for.

Even if the dwelling is not a tent, you're probably still going to have poles serving as a supporting frame.

Sod houses are common due to the availability of sod (the grass and the dirt its roots are tangled in). Tents made of warm, waterproof skins (like walrus skin) are also an option.

An easy way to insulate such a dwelling is to build a wall of packed snow around and fill the gaps with loose, airy snow. This traps air the same way down feathers do.

Non-Food Resource Gathering

While I imagine you meant obtaining resources outside of hunting, in a tundra or tundra-like setting, a lot of your resources are going to come from dead animals. Your garments and shelters and bedding are likely to be made of animal skins, with hollow and/or fluffy fur for warmth, or smoked intestine or fish skin, sewn with tiny stitches and soaked to keep everything flush, for waterproof boots and overlayers. Antlers and tusks are good carving materials for things like spoons and closures and slabs for armor and handles and also talismans and smoking pipes and beads and art. Baleen is good for art too, as well as boot soles and smaller sleds and beautiful baskets. Sinew and rawhide are good for thread, ties, and rope. Bones have a near infinite amount of uses from tiny wing bones to make sewing needles to huge whale bones used to build houses.

For the purposes of working this into a roleplaying game, i'd second the recommendation of keeping a list of animals in your universe and their properties, as well as the things that can be gathered from or made of them. A sort of crafting recipe guide would allow all kinds of quests and sidequests.

There are, of course, non-animal resources to gather for non-eating purposes. Soapstone is the traditional material for oil lamps. Grasses can be woven into baskets for any number of purposes, including supports to give the uppers of one's boots more structure. Wood, in the form of slices of tree trunks, can be hollowed out into bowls and small tubs and buckets or, as logs or slats, can make up flooring. Sturdy branches can be used for frames in houses, boats, and drums, and tree resin makes both good glue and antibiotic salve for closed wounds. Sod, also called turf, makes a good building material and moss is exellent insulation in boots. You can make a list of these too, if it helps.

If your fictional culture has a strong tradition of metallurgy, then they'd also mine for metal that can be used for knives. If not, slate is another option that requires significantly less fire. You could even have both and make the metal a status symbol.

Fun Details to Represent

There are so many lovely little things that show up in arctic cultures

First, a gift economy. Where a cash economy relies on a fairly individualistic culture where you work for someone else to earn capital and exchange that capital for goods and services, a more collectivist and interdependent culture natural to the harsh conditions of the tundra tends to result in a gift economy. The currency in a gift economy, to perhaps oversimplify, is favors. Someone does you a good turn, you remember that, and when you're in a position to help, you return the favor. Usually this means basic material things like hospitality and food, but the "gifts" exchanged can also be luck! King Islander boys would often wish hunters setting out at dawn good luck, with a slab of driftwood as a token of that luck, and if the hunters were successful, they'd give the boys who wished them luck a share of their catch. I believe it was Frank Ellana who remenised that this was what the world was like before money.

Another thing that would be nice to include is parenting practices considered fairly gentle to a Euro-American perspective. Physical punishments are traditionally treated as abuse and scolding a child is not only seen as wrong but something an adult ought to be ashamed of. Discipline is instead a series of moral lessons, teaching children why what they did was wrong and using stories as examples of the consequences. Given the amount of stories about the dangers of abusing a spouse or child, i'd say a lot of these lessons were proactive and preventative. Knowing someone will be hurt by it is considered enough of a deterrence to stop bad behaviors. Traditional potty training, for example, is also gentler in comparison; starting at a younger age (about six months) with more emphasis on praise and encouragment than routine. The goal here is to teach the baby to signal when they need to go so they can be taken out of mama's atigi and relieve themself in a hygenic manner instead of holding it until they get permission. Even our take on kissing is based on inhaling instead of pecking with the lips. This kind of gentleness is usually overlooked to instead focus on the badass hunter image or overall "cuteness" so it would be nice for it to be referenced.

Oral histories would be pretty neat too. I think the idea of learning to be a historian of oral histories is an interesting one and i think it has a lot of potential plot hooks for an rpg.

That's all i have for now. Sorry for the delayed response time. Happy gaming, and i'm always up for further discussion if you would like ^-^

[itstheghostofmypast]

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

Okay- so, first of all, thank you so much Anon, for this ask and I'm sorry I responded to late, but I had to take my time with this one.😭💖.

So here it goes, (i know i said i'd do two biases, im sorry guys, i love yall too much and i get too invested the word count was killing me)

1) @edenesth

Park Seonghwa- Rivals to Lovers

Here me out, he owns an old book shop across the street, he's been there longer than you too. This was his turf, his town, his people, people who loved to read in his cozy library, with its olden print books, worn out pages, read through by generations of the same family.

All was great until one spring she shows up, with her whole pastel plus minimalistic vibes, all with the cutesy trinkets and plants, with warm lights- he noticed some books too, but they were only for show- in conclusion it was a horrid place.

A horrid place where most teens would go to after school now, no longer going to his bookshop, where they'd gossip, read novels or mangas, or even look at pretty pictured magazines (the safe kind, mind you he kept nothing nasty). What's worse was that the older folk began to go there, too! Especially because of how nice she was to them, so polite and so pretty and - ANNOYING.

He even went to 'inspect' the place, with a sour mood and an ill intention, though he was greeted with a burst of sweet aroma, one that had his stomach growling and his inner foodie, begging him to pick at least one of the many pastries or have a cup of steaming, delicious coffee. What came next was worst, her, with her gentle smile and angelic features.

"Hello! Welcome to Spring Avenue, how may we help you today?"

"You're taking my traffic."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Of course you don't."

With that he had walked out, starting a cold war, between the two. Ironically, she was a pacifist, never a fighter, but boy, did he piss her off, he knew all those buttons that would have her steaming like a hot latte.

The war had begun;

It all began when he put a " 10% off sign on Mangas, Fashion Magazines and Manhwas" that took a god chunk of her traffic.

In retaliation, she launched a "Friendship campaign, any customer that brings a friend gets a cake slice free."

Spend 2 hours reading here and leave with a borrowed book/novel of your choice."

"Buy a coffee and get a cookie free."

This continued throughout the season, so did their rivalry, to an extent that led their divided customers sense the tension. And like usual, highschoolers are escapists and this little feud of Seonghwa and her's was a problem they'd like to avoid, from her cafe they could see their beloved bookshop owner Seonghwa scowl at them, and if they were leaving the bookshop, the kids could feel the uneasiness in her smile that she give them once they'd pass her by.

"Congratulations, you're in loss." She sighed, closing the file, earning a scowl from the cafe owner, "Hey, I'm just here to check your bills, loss, and profit stuff, don't shoot the messenger."

"Alexia, come on." She whined, this was her dream, she'd put in her life's savings for this, "What should I do, Lexi?"

"Gosh, maybe not give out stupid discounts four times in a month?" Alexia sighed, rubbing her face, leaning back to stare at the bookshop across the street, "San said he knows the owner, maybe you guys could do a collab, instead of trying to each other's traffic."

"Who's San?" She asked her best friend, slash account manager and Public Relations officer- wait, was she dating!?

"Oh- uh- hey would you look at the time?" Alexia got up, grabbing her disposable coffee cup and bag, "Tell you what, you ask the bookshop owner dude about this? Okay? I'll get back with the details on Monday!" She called out as she walked towards the door, ignoring the cafe owner's questions about this San, "BYE LOVE YOU!"

That's how she found herself standing Infront of his bookshop that evening, still debating if she should go in or not? Was this idea even worth it, the guy was rude, annoying, stupid, incredibly handsome and sweet with kids and- the hell.

"Can I help you?" His deep voice came out of no where

She almost jumped out of her skin, only to turn around and spot the man she had been hating for the past ten months, standing there in all his angleic glory, with that ugly sweater and that overly comfortable scarf, not to mention his hair, his undercut had grown, quiet well too, perhaps he really was blessed with good genes.

"I uh..." she trailed off, pouting to herself, thinking of how he'd react, maybe he would make fun of her, or insult her or even go as far as to tell the town about her poor business management skills.

"Are you still open?" his question had caught her off guard, staring at him quietly wanting to see if this was a trick, only it wasn't, for when she nodded, he had looked around and then asked if he could...get a cup of coffee from there.

Of course she had said yes, why on earth would she say no to a customer, she needed the business. Unfortunately, that one cup of coffee, turned into two, then three, well- not as unfortunate as she would like it to be.

The two, mind you, who still didnt like each other, began to learn a lot about each other. He learnt how she was genuinely a sweet, caring and gentle person, her persona was indeed not fake but very real, this is who she was. She on the other hand, learned that he had inherited this business from his family, and he was an avid reader- sort a geek, a cute geek, a cute geek that could eat a whole chocolate cake with three mugs off coffee like it was nothing.

It wasn't until the third week of him visiting her cafe, that when he had stepped out to go there, he had bumped into her. She had almost fallen, but he was quick, gripping her wrist and pulling her into his chest, only to laugh when she mumbled an excuse, though he was glad she couldn't hear how his heart was hammering against his chest, wanting to stuff itself in the breast pocket of her coat.

That day she had asked him if she could check out his book shop, because she had been looking for old English bakery recipes and she couldn't find it anywhere, not any store around or online. Of course he had taken her to the right isle, in the right section in no time, this bookshop was his life and collecting and sifting through books was his passion, that day he had seen her passion, she had sat there, on the floor the entire night, reading book after book, mumbling to herself as she noted down recipes. He had sat next to her, helping her jot down notes, bringing her coffee- well not as good as hers, but good enough. At one point he had even ordered them a late night snack, well snacks, because he's a growing boy. He had closed the shop with the two inside, even pulled out a blanket and some cushions from the lounging area so she could comfortably work- she was a passionate girl and ironically he had realised something that night, only it turned into a full blown epiphany in the morning.

Next morning she had woken up right next to him, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her as the blanket was draped over the two, they had fallen asleep while reading- oh my, he really was pretty up close.

Though the two pretended nothing had happened, nothing had changed, however, everyone around them had noticed, the highschoolers would giggle when he'd come to her cafe for a cup of coffee, or how the older folk would pat him on the back when she'd step into the bookshop calling him out for help, with her little, "Hwa?"

Neither really knew how it happened, but one night while closing up he had waited outside for her, telling her he'd drop her home, even though she lived close by. Slowly this had become part of their routine, he'd often talk about the latest manga or an issue to the Star Wars comics or whatever on earth he'd talk about, but she'd always listen. Always smile and laugh at his jokes, while he'd readily accept any test recipes she'd try, telling her that his stomach was like a blackhole.

But when do the two get together? Simple, on New Years Eve, when he had to close his shop but she had decided to leave her cafe open, wanting to cater to all those who were celebrating the arrival of the new year with their loved ones, she knew Seonghwa had to go home anyway and she didn't want to spend the night alone since her family was out of town. What she did not expect was a few minutes before the strike of midnight, the cafe door chimed open as she turned to greet the customer, only to freeze at the sight before her- Seonghwa entering with a bouqet of origami flowers, smiling at her as he slowly walked to her;

"I- I know you don't like plucking flowers or bouqets, so I made you these."

"You...made these?"

"Ofcourse."

"W-why?"

"I...because I..." but before he could finish his sentence his ears picked up the count down, causing him to quickly place the flowers on the counter and as soon as the fireworks rang in her ears, it was as if she could feel the burning warmth in her body, taking a second to process how his lips were on hers, his hands cupping her face as her hands instinctively went up to grip his coat, pulling him even closer. Who knew that one day she'll end up opening a cafe that also served as a bookstore, who knew that one day, her little, evil, handsome rival bookseller, would be the New Year's kiss she never knew she needed, the man she never knew she needed, the lover that she was blessed to have.

2) @yessa-vie

Jeong Yunho- Neighbors to Lovers

No, she was not the new tenant, he was, and for some ungodly reason he was also extremely ill-prepared to live alone. Like any other weekend, she was leaving her apartment to go to the cafe to sit in peace and finish her novel, but God had other plans. She had opened the door to come face to face with a tall, good-looking man, though the smile he wore scared her- he was one of those extroverts.

No, he was not mean at all, nor was he the manipulative kind, Jeong Yunho really didn't know how the pre-installed dishwasher worked, that's why he had come to her that fateful weekend, about to knock on the door but she had beat him to it, opening the door before he could, earning a sheepish smile in return- who knew his neighbour would be so gorgeous, who knew purple could look so good on someone?

"Hey, I- I moved in across the hall, apartment 19, lol, I guess we're neighbours, huh?"

She had only nodded meekly at his question, pulling her satchel closer to her person, not because she didn't like him, no, but because she wasn't much of a talker anymore, not so confident either and also- because regardless of how good looking this stranger was, he was still a stranger.

"I'm Yunho- Sorry to bother you, I know you must be going somewhere, but I- I uh- I wanted to know if you know how to operate the dishwasher?"

That's how she found herself in his apartment, leaving the maindoor wide open, so she could escape if something were to happen, but to her surprise he was just a regular idiot, one who thought the dishwasher was a rack used to dry the dishes- men.

That night Yunho met an angel, one who seemingly had her life planned out, held together well, while he was still trying to build something out of his- data analyst or not, living alone was not the easiest thing to do, yet, she seemed so nonchalant about it.

Overtime however, she noticed how he would come over to ask her for help often, sometimes it was the 'fridge isn't working right' other times it was the 'how much water do you add to rice while boiling it?' Honestly, she would've told him to piss off if it were anyone else, but it was her polite neighbour, her sweet polite, new neighbour who would pass her by in the corridor every morning, smiling at her and wishing her a good morning- even if she wasn't a morning person.

Ironically, he continued to ensure they cross paths, only because he wanted to get to know her, to talk to her, he really needed a friend, and since moving here meant Mingi and him could no longer hang out 24/7, he really needed another person to talk to, someone who was not Hongjoong from the finance department.

Ironically, she did not protest or tell him to get lost, instead she's quietly help him whenever he'd approach her, giving him a shy smile then going back to her apartment. That purple door tempting him to go back and knock on the old wood, wanting to know what Narnia like secrets she hid behind.

She let it be, truthfully, she wanted fo befriended him, but during these little adventures, she realised she had begun to neglect her book, the same book she had a deadline for, the same book she had been working on day and night, and now this puppy pops up and takes all her attention?

So what does she do? Simple, she starts to create some form of distance, leave before he'd be awake, come back home later too, also even if he did come to knock on her purple door, she wouldn't be there to answer it, so technically she wouldn't feel guilty right?

Wrong, instead God had punished her with a severe writer's block, one so bad that she had missed two of her deadlines, and according to her publisher, she was on her last chance. That's how she found herself at the very cafe where she would find solace, now on the verge of tears, staring at the laptop in pure agony, maybe this was payback for leaving him unattended and ignoring him or maybe she was never meant to be a writer.

A fresh cup of coffee was placed next to her hand, causing her to quickly pull back and look at the stranger, only her panicked eyes met a softer, more timid gaze, a gentle smile gracing her presence.

"Hey... you looked like you needed the juice." He smiled, gesturing towards the chair, as if asking for permission to sit down next to her, to which she nodded.

"I uh..." she paused. Should she even be asking him how he's been? Does she have the right to do so, or are they just neighbours- well, at this point, two strangers living across each other.

"I read your books by the way," he began, giving her a gentle smile, as he felt the way she had tensed up, honestly, initially he thought she was like that because his presence made her uncomfortable, but he soon realised it wasn't him, but she usually was this tensed all the time, this nervous and unsure, which made no sense to him because she was one of the most well functioning person he had met in the city, and he was glad to have moved in next to her, "It's great, the plotline is amazing and the details- you really captured the essence, I particularly liked the world you created, honestly, when I moved here I thought everyone wore those 'blockers' too. To not...feel stuff you know," he turned to look at her, only to catch her staring at him, a small chuckle escaping him when she cleared her throat, averting her gaze, "You were the only one who was nice enough to help me, even for the stupidest of tasks...it means a lot."

She stared at him in awe and disbelief. She had been trying to avoid him for almost a month now, couldn't he tell? Or was he just playing dumb- I mean he totally could be dumb, he didn't know a toaster comes with settings, just thought the numbers were there for the appeal.

After that the two began to "spend time together", it was strictly casual mind you, nothing personal, though he would drop by more often than usual, sometimes after work, sometimes on the weekends- to have dinner with her, he'd bring dessert, or to watch a movie with her, he'd bring the snacks- no, nothing domestic at all.

Or so they thought, because a few months in, he had come over by swinging the door open, yes he had the keys and she had his keys, only to find her standing there all dressed up.

"Where are you off to? What about movie night?"

"Oh no..." she gasped, "Yuyu, I forgot to tell you I had a date tonight." A date? Why? With whom?

"Wait, why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why would you go on a date when we- I mean...isn't it weird? Shouldn't you be more focused on your book, instead of this temporary romance?"

"Temporary romance?!"

"W-wait, I didn't mean it like that. It came out wrong-"

"Out."

"W-what?"

"I said get out!"

That happened a week ago, she had been avoiding him for a whole week, she had been ignoring his calls, his texts, his knocks- no he didn't barge into her apartment, it took him a great amount of time to get her to open up to him and he idiotically clowned himself. So he decided to go to the next thing, go to the official reading of her book launch.

He waited there at the back, listening to her intently, taking in each word, who knew he would ever fall in love with, her neighbour, the same girl who had helped with the dishwasher, brought him dinner at night, spent time teaching him the usual ropes of living alone- who knew the very same girl had changed the plot of the book, basing it on her life, expressing how the shy, depressed protagonist, who thought dying her hair purple would make her feel better, realised that the only thing that would make her feel better would be a companion, a tall, handsome man, with a heart of gold- it was not that she needed a man, no, she just needed a friend, and she had finally found one, the inspiration to her writer's block, the Chandler to her Monica, the- HE DIES!? 

He gasped, appalled at the way she had ended the story, where at the end, on his deathbed the man tells his beloved how she never needed him, but he needed her to function, to live through each day- bloody hell.

He waited for them to leave when he finally approached her, somewhat upset-no, he was very upset, as she stopped cleaning up to look at him, raising a questioning brow, "What?"

"I can't believe you!"

"Funny, Jeong, I should be the one saying that."

"What!? You killed me!?"

"What?"

"I come here to declare my undying love- no I come here to tell you how much you mean to me and apologise for never asking you out but getting upset when someone actually asked you out and you KILL ME IN YOUR NOVE?"

"First of all, I accept your apology, secondly, the protagonist was DEFINITELY NOT YOU, I made him up WAY BEFORE I met you."

"Oh..." he stared at her then looked around the almost empty bookshop, maybe he should just leave-

"So...Will you ask me out properly now or...'l"

"Move in with me."

"Too fast."

"Was worth a shot." He smiled when she let out a small laugh shaking her head at his antics, "Take me to dinner, Yunho." She smiled watching him lean closer then pause, as if asking for her permission,  "Can I...?" His question was answered when she gripped him by the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer to crash her lips against his, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers,

"We move into my apartment..."

"What? Mine's great-"

"Yunho, have you seen the window and the balcony on mine?"

"Your apartment it is boss."

3) @jaehunnyy

Choi San- Bestfriends to Lovers

Idiots, these two were complete idiots who were utterly in love with each other but were also too blind to realise that - why? Simple, because both feared that confessing to the other may ruin the long-held, deep bond.

A bond that had developed at the ripe age of childhood, middle school, to be more accurate. The day he had come to school, bored out of his mind, staring outside the window, wondering if he could jump on the closest tree to escape this prison. What he had not expected was an angel to come and sit beside him, well technically, the teacher had made her sit next to him, and he hadn't noticed her until she poked his shoulder lighter, causing him to jerk back and gasp, earning a few chuckles from the glass as the teacher just sighed in defeat.

"Wh-Hello."

"Do you need help with that?" She asked, pointing at the math equation in front of him. He looked at his notebook and remembered that's what they were supposed to me doing- damn that was a lot of daydreaming.

"Yeah, I guess...do you... know how to solve it?" He asked the new girl, too afraid to make eyecontact.

"Here, I'll show you." Turning to face him, she pulled his scribbled notebook closer.

"I'm San by the way."

That day onwards, a nice and quiet introvert at the back of the class finally began to crack open. From time to time, you'd hear him whispering to her, talking about some anime or a film. Often, he'd be telling her about his cat, Byeol, and how pretty she was. During break you wouldn't see San next to her for the first five minutes, no, he'd be sprinting across the campus,jumping down the stairs to go to the canteen to get her something to drink with her lunch, or a sweet snack, regardless of how many times she'd say 'it's fine.' During self study hours, she wouldn't be studying, no, she'd be busy tutoring her athletically gifted friend, he was...a little dumb, but that's okay, he was hardworking and she'd tell him she'd help him where he'd get stuck, explain and tutor where needed- especially in math.

As they grew older, he grew into his body, his self-esteem issues slowly subsiding, his feelings for her deepening, yet, never enough to tip the scale, at the bring of an edge but never enough to flow out he had to keep it all under control, because that's just how San was, patient and calm, he would never take a step if there was an ounce of the doubt when it came to how she felt about him. Though watching her spread her wings into the beauty she was, well, was somewhat problematic for him. Especially when she'd come to him, smiling like that, greeting him with the gentle voice of hers, asking him if he liked her haircut.

"What do you think?"

"It's...very nice."

"Just very nice?"

"You'd look pretty to me even if you were bald."

Conversations like these would have her heart hammering against her ribcage, and she'd pray to God that he couldn't hear it. She'd pray for it when he'd be walking home side by side, his shoulder bumping into hers, or his hand brushing against hers, when he'd take her bag from her, clicking his tongue at how heavy it would be,

"You trynna' build muscles like me?" He'd ask, though he was still very fragile, he'd only started going to the gym when he noticed how the 'basketball team captain', had decided to ask her to 'help tutor him too', though she had politely declined.

"Hmm? Of course not, Advanced Math books are just big like that..."

"Why do you do this to yourself, dove?" A nickname she had gained over the time, one used only by him.

"Because I wanna teach one day, I love teaching, I want to make sure people realise subjects aren't difficult or they aren't dumb, it's just that they're not taught properly."

Yup, he was smitten, on his knees, begging for her please ( he was also an idiot).

Ended up in college with her, though in a different major, like hell the now 'mountain of a man', no longer the kitten-like fragile boy, was going to major in math- business was a way better option.

This wasn't a bad situation, though they rarely had a few classes together, she'd still make time to see him, to text him as soon as class would end, but he'd already be standing at the exit, waiting for her with a coffee in hand and a dimpled smile, reserved just for her.

In no means was Choi San an extrovert, but somehow along the line he had met one, who later claimed that his MBTI had changed to an introvert too, though he doubted that notion- Jung Wooyoung.

Boistorous, noisy, obnoxious but a genuinely nice person at heart, Wooyoung was his companion in his major's classes, he was also the first person to know about San's little secret, since San trusted him enough to know, though Wooyoung assured him he had figured it out as soon as San introduced him to her as his "bestfriend".

"You're an idiot." Wooyoung snorted, taking off his shoes as he walked into the 4th years tiny apartment.

"What? Why?"

"You really think I didn't know?"

"How did you kno-'

"You can be bestfriends with a girl since childhood, unless a) one of you confessed to the other and got friendzoned but still chose friendship or b) neither of you confessed but are secretly crushing over the other."

"Wow, should've been a psychologist instead of a business major."

"What can I say, Sannie? I am a man of many talents."

Things progressed like this for a long time, Wooyoung watched from the sidelines how the two would basically act like a couple that was not a couple- almost everyone at campus thought they were a couple and Wooyoung was basically the third wheel. Not that he minded, and San appreciated him for that, he was glad Wooyoung's relationship with his dove was platonic- borderline sibling-like.

But Choi San was a fool, one that Choi San, at the fresh age of 25 wished that perhaps he'd be able to take the next steps, but something at the back of his mind held him back, were his personal desires as important as this friendship?

Which is why he stood there watching his best friend get ready for her date, her date with Wooyoung. After a conversation he did not like, but what could he say? He was too afraid to even confess, and well, Wooyoung wasn't a bad guy, and technically, he was his friend.

"I'm gonna ask her out, Sannie." The brunnet sighed, before taking a sip of his coffee, humming at the bitterness, perhaps this bitterness was sweeter than the bitter taste that had developed in San's mouth at the statement.

"W-why?" The bigger man with the fragile heart whispered.

"Because...I like her...I'm sorry but...I gave you time, so much of it and...I just wanted you to be the first one to know...if she says no, we'll all still be friends, but if she says yes...San, I won't hold back."

That had led to her first anniversary with Wooyoung, then the second and finally a day before their third anniversary San had texted the couple how he wouldn't be able to make it to their anniversary party because he had work that day and he wished them the best.

What he did not expect was someone knocking on his door at 2 am, opening the door to find a tear stained Wooyoung, only for him to punch the taller man in the face, watching him stumble backwards then wipe his eyes and sigh, "I swear- if you weren't such a great guy, I would've stabbed you."

"What the F*CK WOOYOUNG?"

That night was the first time he had seen Wooyoung cry, cry about how when she read the message she had become a mess, one that even Wooyoung couldn't fix, begging him for forgiveness how she made a mistake, how even though she was happy with Wooyoung, her heart belonged to someone else, someone who she thought she could move on from since he never confessed, since he never liked her back the way she did, and though the text was a confirmation of that, she couldn't bear lying to Wooyoung, to give him only half the love of what he deserved, knowing he deserved someone who would teach him the true meaning of love, because she was a teacher with only one student in mind, the idiot of a man- Choi San.

That night San couldn't sleep, not a wink, he processed the words over and over again, so did she like him? Should he confess to her? Now? Wouldn't that make it awkward? Or should he wait? Would that be a mistake?

Though his questions were answered in the morning when the doorbell rang at 7 am, making the sleepy man sigh as he stumbled to the door with blurry eyes, opening it still half asleep, only the slap he received woke sobered him up quickly,

"OW- WH- WHY ARE YOU JUST LIKE WOOYOUNG!?"

"SHUT UP! DONT TAKE HIS NAME! I HURT HIM BECAUSE OF YOU!" Never in the many years of knowing her, had she raised her voice like that.

"I-"

"NO! LISTEN TO ME!" She yelled before shoving him inside so she could continue yelling inside, "I like you- and you- you d*ck you could tell him you liked me but you couldn't tell me!? All those horrible dates you watched me go to, but you couldn't stop me?! You knew you liked me yet you let Woo ask me out!?"

"I- I didn't wanna ruin what we had..."

"San, I- what if I had married Woo? Huh? Then what? When you already had half my heart, I-"

She couldn't finish her sentence though, because the next thing she knew, he was smothering her with all that pent up love, his lips pressing against hers with a ferocity she had ever seen in her gentle Sannie, wanting to claim what he was too scared to touch before.

He only pulled back when she lightly pushed him back, gasping for air, looking up at him all flushed and pink, her swollen lips just enticing him even more,

"W-what was that?" She breathed out.

"Never say you're marrying anyone but me, I would've ruined the wedding even if it meant being thrown out."

"You're an idiot Sannie."

"No, I just had a teacher who could teach me math, but couldn't teach me how to love properly - guess she was learning too."

[slightlyhopefulromantic]

aaand here's deadlands! it didnt take seven months this time, who cheered?

i'll probably do another post grouping all of my line-ups together, but that's gonna wait for when i do the wyrdwood PCs as well :] more thorough design thoughts/smaller details will be under the cut, but im putting this here so that everybody has to know: their eye shines are all different card suits, except for nate, who gets J for the joker card :]

oxventurers guild | the hobby horses

unlike my other designs where i let everyone have individual colors/palettes, i tried to keep colors more consistent across these designs! the oxventurers guild has the fantasy element and theyre all very different, so the wide mishmash of colors are fine, and the hobby horses all have a lot of dark colors so that keeps them looking consistent together. but for these guys, i wanted a more consistent feel, so i tried my best to reuse colors between each design (especially between delacy and nate ^-^)

silas - ough. my boy. i wanted him to be broad with a strong build, and i hope i pulled that off :D i had so much trouble with his hat that i almost just didnt give him one, but eventually i decided it was better to just. give up and rock with it, even if he looks a bit like a mountie hbjgfjhd and he is wearing cowboy boots, theyre just tucked into his pants because he doesnt feel the need to flash them (looking at delacy, lol). he has spurs on his boots, even though he doesnt ride horses, because he likes the way they jangle <3

garnet - people really liked it when i gave garnet dark roots, so i have decided to always give her dark roots. i like how it looks hehehe and i also like to give her freckles!!! i think theyre cute!!! for the vest, i struggled for a while trying to capture the vibe of jane's vest, because its so so strange and specific in a way that makes it impossible for me to picture garnet without it. i'm pretty happy with where i landed with it, especially the pattern, since i've never tried to make a pattern like that before :3 i dont know why ive been loving patterns so much lately LOL but i will keep riding this wave and regret it later when drawing the designs again

edie - definitely the furthest departure from canon outfits, though still in the right wheelhouse. i just don't like drawing multiple layers of ruffled skirt. i didn't like how my sketches kept looking. i wanted to give her a skirt slit, especially after my friend reminded me about her thigh rifle holster. so today, i stared at a bunch of victorian ballgowns and party city costumes, and then completely redesigned her skirt before i lined these XD and i think it was worth it!! i love the layers and the way her rifle peeks out, and it meant i could show off more of her boots and give them a pretty design :]

delacy - my main thought going into drawing delacy was just. "i need to malnourish this boy" LMAO i refuse to believe that he is eating properly, i just know that he is not. otherwise, i mostly just stuck to the campaign art but scuffed up his clothes a bit. as implied on silas's notes, i very purposefully had his boots be Big. he's overcompensating a little bit :] also sorry i did not want to draw rooster so he just gets a generic handgun. i didnt feel like drawing complicated guns, and i wanted it to be a smaller handgun so that he could be poorly copying edie :') he has no trigger discipline but neither does edie so its fine

nate - that's just nate, baby!!! i think, canonically, he's meant to be a bit. emaciated. but i cant help but just picture him being a bigger guy, i think it fits his vibe better and its more fun for me to draw that way. i like having variety in body shapes, and garnet and delacy already have the rail thin thing down for this line-up. let my old man be fat !!! also. he has a weird nipple because he is transgender. heart emoji

[forcedhesitation]

you want to see astarion suck the blood from the neck of some pale maiden, like he's a charming vampire in a black and white film, seducing multiple big-breasted women to their doom.

I want to see him covered in blood, gleefully ripping someone's throat to shreds.

when he's a messy eater: 😍😍😍😍

[pensat-i-fet]

Too good for you (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Welcome to an imagine that wasn’t requested but that was inspired by one of my dreams (but then I really only kept a tiny detail from the dream). This is a bit spicy, a bit angsty, also slightly toxic and everyone (but Kepa, who has a little cameo because the one in my dream was Juan Mata and how random is that?) is an asshole. But I think it’s fun! It was one of those where I let the story go where it wanted to go. I didn’t choose any of this. The story chose its own path and that’s cute. Enjoy! ❤️**

Word count: 4030

Masterlist

Wattpad

Another day, another photoshoot. But this one was pretty special. You had worked for Armani before, walking their show and doing some catalogue work for them. But this time it was a campaign they wanted you to be a part of and that was huge for your career. And the paycheck was going to be pretty decent too.

Also, you were shooting with a football player so you knew that your work was going to get a lot more exposure because of his presence. And it was a player you actually knew, which could make the shoot pretty interesting. Whether it’d be in a good or a bad way was to be determined.

"Come here for a sec so we can double-check it all fits nicely".

"Sure", you said, following the stylist. "Is the player here already?"

She looked at you with a knowing look. "No, he's a bit late. Traffic is pretty bad".

"Cool. We'll wait then".

Fittings were done quickly and so you moved to hair and makeup. The look was pretty natural so that was done quickly but with it being an underwear shoot, the makeup artists had to make sure to apply makeup all over your body. And it was while they did it that Rúben showed up.

"Hello everyone, sorry I'm late".

His voice made you look up from your phone. Rúben looked you up and down and for a second you felt a bit self-conscious standing in front of him, and a crew of 20 people, in just a thong and a bra. As if he hadn't seen you in less.

While he was getting ready for the shoot, you put on a robe and sat down next to him.

"I thought you wouldn't make it".

"Bad traffic. I wish I had gotten here early. I might have volunteered to do your body makeup".

"Of course you would have".

"Do you want to do mine?", he whispered.

"I want to be home before midnight so hurry up".

"By home, you mean your place or mine?"

Rolling your eyes, you got up to check if there was something nice you could eat. Catering at these shoots was usually pretty good if you got to the table before all the good food was taken and only the dry carrot sticks were left.

"You didn't tell me you knew him", said your agent.

"I don't know him. I know what's in his jeans. It's different".

"Is it going to be an issue?"

"Why should it be?"

"I don't want you to mess up this big opportunity. Who knows how your career could develop after this".

Yeah, and you want the commission that comes from big-money jobs like this one.

"I won't mess up".

"How did you even meet him? I thought your friend played for Chelsea".

"At a party. It doesn't matter".

Yes, your friend played for Chelsea. But he had nothing to do with you meeting Rúben. As you said, that happened at a party. You didn't even recognise him at first. You just noticed a hot guy approaching your friend group and decided to start dancing with him before Gina, who had been staring at him all night, could do it first. Your friend group also consisted of people you didn't like that much. It was a fashion industry thing.

"Do I look good?"

Rúben was now next to you, wearing the underwear picked for the first few photos you needed to take. And yeah, he looked alright.

"As if you need me to tell you how good you look. You already tell yourself every morning when you look in the mirror".

"Is being confident a sin?"

"No", you said, getting closer to him. "Being arrogant is".

"Then we're both sinners".

"Sinning can be fun".

"It's fun when I do it with you".

That last sentence was whispered in your ear and you had to try hard not to blush. So you left him to go get changed into your first outfit.

"Wow! You don't need me to tell you how good you look either but I will".

You turned your hips slightly, letting him see how good you really looked while you pretended to adjust your panties with one of your hands, making sure Rúben's eyes followed your movements. "I mean, anything is an improvement from the skin colour thong I had to wear for fittings and hair and make-up. Least sexy piece of underwear you'll ever see. This", you said, pointing at your current outfit, "is a lot better, right?"

The way Rúben stared at you gave you all the answers you needed. "Believe me, seeing you in your underwear is always a pleasure. No matter the colour or design. But this…", he was now touching the little piece of lace that adorned the sides of the panties you were wearing. "Can you keep the clothes you wear at shoots?"

"Not usually but I think with underwear is different so maybe I get lucky".

"I'm feeling very lucky at the moment", he muttered, still staring at the fabric he had touched.

The photographer interrupted the moment, asking you to actually do your job. How inconvenient. And so you and Rúben moved to the shooting area and listened to the ideas the photographer had for the shoot.

You had actually been excited to shoot with Rúben. First, because you thought his look complimented yours really well. Sometimes you were paired with male models that looked so odd next to you but you and Rúben looked great together. Then there was the fact that you already knew him, which meant you were a bit more comfortable doing a more intimate shoot like this one. And of course, you wanted to see him. He mentioned you texting him if you visited Manchester but you had been travelling a lot and didn't get to see him in person ever since that party in Lisbon.

You also expected your chemistry to be good. At the party, you two connected immediately and felt incredibly comfortable in each other's company the whole night. So this should have been the same. But Rúben seemed to be struggling a bit.

"What's wrong?", you asked him during a small break.

"Well, it's a bit challenging to be this close to you while you wear almost nothing, you know?"

"Control the hormones, Dias. You're acting like a horny 15-year-old. Though I guess men never get over that stage. At least not mentally".

The pieces from the collection were stunning but a few were very impractical. Putting them on felt like you were doing a puzzle. And you could only imagine how difficult it would be to take them off, especially in specific situations where you'd be in a hurry to get rid of the underwear. But they did look good.

"Can somebody help me?", you called and heard the curtain move just seconds later.

You didn't even turn, used to random people helping in those situations. "I can help with that".

"Rúben, you shouldn't…".

"Shh".

You could feel his finger untangling the straps and doing the clasps. But before you could turn to face him, he bent down to kiss the side of your neck. When his hands went to your hips, you forgot for a second where you were and just leaned back into his touch. But a noise made by the crew startled you and you separated from Rúben quickly.

"We're working. We can't…".

But he wasn't listening anymore. He just grabbed your face so he could kiss you and you barely allowed him to touch your lips.

"My makeup. How am I going to explain it being smudged?"

"Are you wearing any?"

"Are you serious? Of course I am".

He leaned forward, impossibly close to you, and stared at your eyes. It was hard to keep eye contact but you managed. He then moved to your lips and smiled. "Yeah, I guess I can see a bit of product there. But it can be reapplied, right?"

"Stop it", you said, pushing him away from you and leaving the changing area.

Yeah, you could understand now what he meant by the shoot being challenging. But you were professional and a couple of hours later, you heard the magical words it’s a wrap.

“Where are you staying?”

The voice startled you and you held onto the shirt you were buttoning up for dear life. “Rúben! You can’t come inside. I’m getting changed”.

“I just spent 3 hours with you by my side wearing the smallest underwear I’ve ever seen in my life”.

“Really? You need to go out more”.

He rolled his eyes, before staring at your bare legs. “Besides, I’ve already seen everything there was to see”.

“It doesn’t mean you can see it again”.

“Not even if I say please?”

This time, you let him get closer and kiss you. And of course, you left with him. Much better than going back to the hotel.

                                        **

Back in London, you continued working non-stop. The Armani campaign was about to be released and some other brands wanted to work with you before that.

And for the second time in a month, you got to work with someone you knew well. But this time it wasn’t Rúben, but your friend Andrea.

“I love your hair”, she said the moment she saw you.

“Thanks. I had to cut it for a job but I’m really into this style”.

“Looks amazing on you”.

Catalogue shooting wasn’t the most thrilling part of being a model but it was pretty simple. And the crew you were working with was always fun to be around. So when it was time for a break, you all ordered food and chatted about everything and nothing while eating.

“Are you free this weekend?”, asked Andrea while you were getting ready to carry on shooting.

“I think so. Why?”

“Kepa has this event and I can’t go so we thought you could go with him. It’d be good for networking and all that”.

You met Kepa after working with his wife Andrea and became really good friends with both of them. It wasn’t the first time he had invited you to an event but…it was usually events that Andrea was attending too.

“I don’t know if it’s the best idea. I’ll be there as what? Your husband’s companion? What if people start to make up rumours?”

“It doesn’t have to be weird. Plus, it’s a very informal event. There might not be any press there at all and there is no need to dress up. It’ll be fine”.

“I’ll think about it”.

And that you did. Andrea kept sending you info and it really was a great opportunity to network. Also, the topic for the event sounded very interesting so you really wanted to go.

That’s how you found yourself arriving at the venue with Kepa by your side.

“Are any of your teammates attending the event too?”

“Why? Are you interested in any of them?”

“Kepa…stop. We’ve had this conversation before and no, I don’t like any of your teammates. None of them is my type”.

“You’ll break their hearts”, he laughed.

Kepa was busy talking to some people he knew so you decided to walk around saying hello to everyone. And that was when you saw him.

“What are you doing here?”

Rúben turned when he heard your voice and a big smile appeared on his face when he saw you standing in front of him.

“I was invited to the event. You?”

“I’m here with my friend”.

The word friend made him frown. “Another model?”

“No. Actually, another footballer”.

Rúben started to look around until his eyes fell on Kepa, the only other player that was currently there. “Him?”

“Yes, he’s my friend. Any problems?”

“You can do better than him”.

You laughed, not believing what you were hearing. “He’s married to my friend. We’re just friends, you idiot”.

“Is she here too?”

“No, she’s busy today. That’s why I’m here”.

“Big boy Kepa can’t go to places alone? Does he need you to babysit him?”

“Have you always been an asshole or am I just noticing? Don’t speak like that about my friend”.

Spotting Kepa, you left Rúben standing alone, staring at you while you walked towards your friend. His eyes never stopped following you around the venue and you could tell. But you avoided him.

Rúben kept trying to get your attention but you pretended not to notice and it was driving him insane. So when it was just you and Kepa standing next to the food, he decided to go introduce himself.

“Hey there, mate. Nice seeing you here”.

Kepa stared at him. They had never interacted outside of the pitch. “Sure. This is my friend…”.

“I know who she is”.

Kepa looked at you, frowning. So you had to clarify the situation for him. “Rúben and I did a shoot together recently. You’ll see it soon”.

“Right”, laughed Kepa. “Well, good to see you too. We gotta go…”.

“Maybe we could chat for a second”, he said, looking at you.

“Maybe I want to go with Kepa instead of chatting”.

Kepa kept looking from you to Rúben and then back, not understanding anything that was happening but if you wanted to leave, he was going to help you.

“She’s right. We need to leave now before my wife gets back home”.

When Rúben saw Kepa grab your hand to lead you to the door, his jealousy grew even more. “You have to make sure you finish before she gets back?”

Hearing that, Kepa let go of your hand immediately and before he had time to say anything, you had already slapped Rúben’s face.

“Don’t you ever insinuate something like that about me”.

Kepa had two options. Following you or copying your actions and slapping Rúben too. But even if he would have loved to do the same as you, he chose to follow you since people were getting closer to see what was going on. And his team had enough dramas to worry about.

"What was that about?"

"I would like to know too".

"Did he bother you at that shoot? You could complain to the brand or something. And if he's harassing you…".

"Kepa, I appreciate you worrying but it's nothing like that. I…I met him at a party a while ago and we hooked up. And then we met at the shoot and hooked up again. But I don't know, he was acting like a jealous boyfriend or something. And saying that about us…who does he think he is?"

"You were right to slap him. I wish I could have done the same".

You shook your head. You weren't an aggressive person. Actually, you avoided conflicts as much as you could. But hearing Rúben say that was too much. You couldn't not react.

Kepa invited you to stay over for dinner and you were a bit wary to say yes until you saw Andrea was back. She was fuming when she heard what had happened.

"Well, the good thing is you don't have to see him again".

"Actually…", her words made you realise you had to see Rúben again. Very soon. "We need to do an event to promote the campaign. I can't say no, Andrea. It's the biggest job I've ever done".

"You have to go", said Kepa. "Don't let him affect your career. Just pose with him for the red carpet or whatever and then you can stay away from him".

"Yeah, I'll do that".

But it was easier said than done.

                                        **

Rúben had tried his hardest to apologize. He didn't even know what got into him to talk to you like that. Well, he knew. Jealousy. But what right did he have to be jealous?

Still, he apologized on social media and even sent flowers to your agency. But got no response from you.

"This is what he'll wear", said the stylist, bringing the suit Rúben would wear to the event. "So we have to pick something that goes well with it".

You tried ten different outfits and none pleased the Armani team. But then you spotted a little black dress that no one had looked at.

"Can't go wrong with an LBD, right?"

They turned to see you holding the dress and one of the stylists shrugged. "Might as well see how it looks on. With those long legs of yours, it should look fine".

So you tried it on and it fit like a glove. The exposed back and the length gave it the sexy touch the brand wanted. You were promoting underwear not coats. But the front was more conservative, so it was sexy but still classy.

They paired it with some black heels and someone put your hair up in a messy bun to see how the neckline looked. You looked absolutely perfect. And you couldn't help but smirk thinking how it was going to drive Rúben insane.

But the first person you saw at the event wasn't Rúben, it was Gina.

"Hiii! Oh my God, you look gorg!"

Her smile was so fake, you feared she would get a migraine from the pressure on her jaw.

"I know".

"And you got to work with that hottie you slept with that one time. Where is he? Still single, I guess".

"I guess. But he told me he doesn't like obnoxious blondes so maybe don't waste your time".

"You're always such a bitch!"

"Not always, Gina. You just bring out the worst in me. Such a talent!"

Everyone was getting ready for the red carpet and it was then that you finally saw Rúben. He stood next to you but didn't even acknowledge you. Was he for real?

Once on the red carpet, he turned quickly to look at you and placed his hand on the small of your back. Your bare back. It was easier for you to just smile at the camera even if you didn't feel like it but he managed to do it as well.

You kept turning to show your outfit, placing your hands on his arms, shoulders or even chest.

"Stop moving", he whispered. His hand never leaving your back.

"I'm just doing my job. But nice to know the cat didn't get your tongue. Or were you just waiting to talk until you could accuse me of being a homewrecker again?"

"I messed up and I tried to apologize".

"Try harder".

The photographers thanked you and you started to walk away from the carpet, knowing Rúben was right behind you. When you turned your head to see him, you could see the way he stared at your body. He noticed you looking at him so we walked faster to catch up with you.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say something like that. I don't even know why I did".

"It was a very disgusting thing to say about someone you barely know".

"Again, I'm sorry. Please, let's pretend it didn't happen".

"Hi! Ruben right?", hearing Gina's voice, you closed your eyes to try to get rid of any murderous feelings.

"Yeah. Do I know you?"

She was now looking at you. "Be nice and introduce your friend".

"Who's the friend? You?"

Her fake laugh made you cringe. "She's so funny. Hi! I'm Gina".

"Rúben. Are you a model too?"

Oh God… "No silly, but do you think I could be one?"

"She's just an influencer who follows anyone with over 10k followers on Instagram around. If you slept with her, the whole country would know before you even finish".

Seeing Rúben's face made you laugh. He looked so uncomfortable.

"We gotta go, G. Everyone wants to see the stars of the event".

"You're just the accessory. He is the star".

Now she was showing her true colours. "Better than being the one that got a pity invite".

After a couple of seconds, Rúben caught up again.

"Are you going to roast me too?"

"You would deserve it as much as she does. But if you want to be told how amazing you are, Gina will be here the whole night".

"I have to be with my fellow star".

"Not your accessory?"

"I don't think you'd ever allow anyone to treat you just like an accessory".

"No one should allow anyone to treat them like that".

The whole night you had to be paraded around telling people about the collection and just hearing over and over again how great the campaign was. You knew that already. The photos were everywhere you looked and they were terrific. You knew that photographer was good but seeing the results in front of you made you realise how truly lucky you were to work with her.

"Do you like them?"

"Yes. These will be on my showcard for fashion week for sure".

"What's that? The card, I mean. I know what fashion week is".

"It's this little card with a couple of photos and my measurements. I have to take them to castings to give to the casting directors so they have all my info if they decide to hire me for the job".

"Interesting".

"You could model when you retire from football, you know?"

Rúben raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. I feel ok taking my own photos but working with photographers is weird".

"They stop you from doing stupid poses so it might be weird but look at the result".

He would have said something about your insult but could just stare at your fingers drawing invisible lines over the photos. Your fingers moved along the lines his muscles created and you seemed hypnotized by what you were doing.

He leaned towards you so he could whisper in your ear. "You know you can touch the real me too if you want to, right?"

"And yet you only get to touch me in the photos".

"You sure?"

His hand was now back on the small of your back and he could see the goosebumps caused by his touch. After looking around to make sure no one was there, he leaned down to kiss your shoulder and you kept staring at the photos trying not to show a reaction to his touch. But also not moving away, craving more.

"What's your favourite photo of the campaign?", you asked, interrupting the kisses that were now getting closer to your neck. And you knew once the neck kisses started, it was game over.

Rúben looked around at all the photos. "That one".

You looked at the photo he pointed and it was one of you with your back to the camera. You were topless so your back was as exposed as it was at that moment and you couldn't stop smiling seeing the rest of the photo.

"Is it my beautiful profile you like?", you asked, copying the pose so he could see the profile twice.

"Sure. But that thong…that's the sexiest piece of lingerie I've ever seen and I've seen a few. And of course, it looks even better because it's you wearing it".

"Do you want to know a secret?", he nodded. "That's what I'm wearing tonight. They let me keep the whole collection".

"You're kidding".

"Shame you won't be able to find out if it's true or not".

You left the room but not before turning to see Rúben unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. Yes, you were driving him insane. And no, he wasn't going to find out if you were telling the truth or not. Should have thought twice before pissing you off.

                                        **

After that event, Rúben tried to contact you but you ignored him. So he had almost given up. That was until he had to play against Chelsea. He obviously didn't make a great first impression in front of Kepa but perhaps they could talk, man to man, and fix that. So when the match ended, Rúben tried to find him quickly to talk to him with the excuse of needing to shake his hand after the match.

"So, your friend…".

"She's too good for you, brother. And you messed up and she doesn't give second chances. Sorry".

[chickencowcow]

Can you say more about your Sep Heap world DnD campaign 👀

Yeah totally! Sorry this took me so long, you caught me right in the middle of finals season.

So like. The campaign is one that we lovingly refer to as Foryx, is DMed by my boyfriend, @thebugaboy

There are five PCs in the campaign:

Amestrias "Tris" Waelrue (she/they): an eladrin bard/warlock played by @voidthatdraws

Sivala "Sylvir" Waelrue Persipa (don't ask but like he/him but really she/her): an eladrin rogue/bloodhunter played by myself :]

Honey Locust (any): a warforged druid played by @sofilophisaurus

Hanne Borgerson (she/her?): a half-orc cleric played by @actually-rj

Myrela (they/them): a vedalken artificer, played by a friend that I don't have the Tumblr of.

Nobody plays a Heap (we used to have someone who played Simon Heap but she had to leave the campaign) but there are ties between the PC's and the Heaps, like:

Sylvir and Simon Heap were childhood best friends and they ended up dating in their teens. Their relationship ended when Sylvir ran away from home after DomDaniel temporarily stole the ExtraOrdinary Wizard position from Marcia

Tris and Jenna Heap dated in their teens and she was friends with Septimus and Beetle. Their relationship went sour after a bad argument (from what I'm told) and Septimus and Beetle ended up taking Jenna's side and ditching her.

Honey Locust has??? some type of connection to both the Heaps and the Waelrues??? And basically is protective over both the Waelrue kids and the Heap bunch.

Uhhh a BUNCH of stuff has been changed from the book canon? I haven't read the books in a while so I don't know everything accurately and im not gonna go into much detail (that's a job for my DM) but. Uhhhh. The Waelrues are the family that's been in charge of the Manuscriptorium for three? Generations now? With Tris just taking her position as Chief Hermetic Scribe the day the campaign started.

The absolute basic plot synopsis is that the whole gang and their gaggle of NPCs are going back in time to use Alchemical Fyre to destroy the Two-Faced Ring on an implied Manuscriptorium work trip, and they're also there to rescue Septimus and Jenna from the past. Sylvir and Tris have a... strange relationship. Honey Locust used to be a tree. Myrela is an alchemical apprentice who delights in eavesdropping and drama. Hanne doesn't know what the fuck is going on but is deeply deeply intruiged. Nicko, Snorri, and Simon all joined in on the quest and so did Sylvir and Tris's father, which made everything a lot more awkward.

There's a lot more to it (a LOT) but that's what I've got for rn! Tris's player draws her a lot so go check out their art and Honey Locust's player just released an AMV that looks really good but I am unfortunately banned from watching it because Spoilers. I know our DM has made art of Jenna before, as well as a few NPCs but I'm unsure how much he's posted. Anyway, thanks for the ask! :]

[cinemasteves]

Quit

(based on the song by cashmere cat & ariana grande)

eddie munson x female!reader

notes/warnings: lots of sadness, cheater!eddie, manipulation, gaslighting, mentions of kissing/sex (not super detailed) reader, eddie & the rest of the older group are all the same age!

not my gif

One week. It's been one week since you found out Eddie had cheated on you. Heartbroken is an understatement. The pain and betrayal you felt has been eating at your brain and heart all week long. Every night you cried yourself to sleep wondering what went wrong. He was your everything, and you thought you were his, that is until Chrissy Cunningham broke down crying and confessed to you in the school bathroom. Her words replaying over and over every night.

I'm so so sorry y/n, I was under the impression you guys were broken up, until I saw him kiss you in the hallway earlier. I just went to his trailer for some pills one night and it escalated from there. You don't deserve this. I'm very sorry.

♪ And you say that I'm the devil you know and I don't disagree no, I don't see the harm ♪

And of course when you confronted him after school, he denied it like no other.

I don't know what she's talking about, y/n. Why would you believe her of all people? She's part of Jason's clique, he hates me, he definitely put her up to this.

But that was quite the opposite. Chrissy was unironically the only cheerleader who was nice to you, hell she was nice to everybody. So when she told you about her and Eddie, you knew she was being genuine.

Seriously what has gotten into you? It's like you fell into hell and came back the devil himself. You've been stressing me out all week long, I need to focus on the DND campaign, i'll probably call you later.

But that night when he called you, your worst nightmare came true and he ended up confessing.

Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Please give me another chance.

And you did. But everybody knew something was different. The constant pda was now basically nonexistent, you stopped going to Hellfire meetings, you didn't hang out with the group as much and you barely talked to everyone.

♪ They say, 'you crazy, just leave him, he'll suffocate you' but I wanna be in your arms. ♪

You couldn't take it anymore and eventually told Nancy while you guys were studying together one afternoon, she was not happy.

Y/n...That's not okay! You should've never taken him back. I'm sorry. You deserve the entire world. Please leave him, it hurts not seeing you around us anymore. I will gladly tell Steve not to invite him around anymore if that would help. Staying with him will make you more and more miserable, we all notice it, you seem suffocated.

But you still didn't listen.

Nancy we were together for two years, I can't let him go just like that. I love him.

♪ They say, 'no, don't pick up the phone, let them think there's nobody home' But I'm under your spell.

Cause when you call my heart starts to roll, I always want more

It's my heaven, my hell. ♪

As the days went by, you went into super hermit mode. Not speaking to anybody in the group, including Eddie, and that's when you realized Nancy was right. Your usual light has been dimmed, shut off even because of him. It was Friday, and you knew Eddie would be at Hellfire after school and Wayne at work, so you called their home phone and left a rather choked up message.

Eddie, I don't think I can do this anymore. It hurts me to act like everything's fine when it's not. I am incredibly broken inside and have been for the last week. I'm tired of crying myself to sleep every night wondering what went wrong. I'm tired of trying to act put together around all our friends when i'm not. I love you, but I can't keep putting myself through this. Please don't call me after you hear this, I do not want to talk to you from this point on. It's for the best. Take care.

After leaving that message, you called over Nancy, Robin and Steve as your parents were away for the weekend, and as soon as the three of them walked into the door, a group hug ensued between you and the girls and you burst into tears. Realizing Steve was completely clueless, Nancy pulled him to the side and explained it all. He was livid. Nancy and Robin brought pizza and some drinks to help get things off your mind. But as you drank throughout the night, you found yourself crying in Steve's arms. He was close with Eddie, and the closest thing you had left of him.

As if it was like clockwork, your house phone rang and you immediately knew who it was.

Y/n...do not answer that. Steve said sternly.

But once more, you didn't listen and as you got up to pick up the phone, the three of them just sighed, awaiting the outcome of this call. As you answered the call and hit speaker, you hear sniffling on the other end and your heart immediately sank.

Sweetheart... I am so sorry. I don't have an explanation as to why I did what I did other than I'm a fucking idiot. But seeing you like this is breaking me so much inside. I'm full of fucking regret and shame. You are my everything and I fucked it up so bad. God, I wish I could take it back. I'm so sorry for everything. For cheating, being hostile towards you, pushing you away and just making your beautiful personality do a complete 180. I know you said not to call but I need to hear your voice, it's killing me not hearing from you.

You stand there speechless. Nancy and Robin silently stopping Steve from getting up and slamming that phone against the wall.

Can I come over? Please? Eddie cries.

♪ We're heading deep inside lives a voice, a voice so quiet,

But I can't hear that voice when your heart beats next to mine. ♪

Nancy, Robin and Steve leave. Steve more angry than the girls, but he understood that this was all up to you. You heart racing as you wait for the man you've been avoiding, cracking another beer and chugging as you pace back and forth near the front door. After about five minutes you hear the doorbell ring and you toss the empty beer can to the ground to open the door.

Eddie sees you and his heart shatters. Your mascara running down your cheeks, your eyes puffy and face red. Guilt washing over him like a tsunami. He can't believe he's done this to you. His once upon a time, the girl of his dreams, a now ruined mess. All because of him. Tears form in his eyes as he engulfs you into the hug you've both been needing from each other. Your head against his chest, hearing his heart beat rapidly. He holds you tight in his lanky arms as you sob together.

♪ I can't quit you, I can't quit you

I can't quit you, I can't quit you ♪

You so badly want to take him back, but deep down you know what he did wasn't right and how it would be for the best to part ways. Part of you wants to dismiss that, but you know you have to do what's right. For the both of you.

♪ Yeah, I'm gonna regret it

Yeah, I'm gonna regret it

Yeah, I'm gonna regret it

I know I'm gonna regret it ♪

You continue to sob, realizing that by tomorrow this would be no more. No more cozy movie nights, no more baking desserts together, no more cuddles, no kisses, dates, no more doing all of the things you both loved to do together.

♪ When you said, 'Baby, I just want you to lay me down and we'll fuck the pain away'

'Cause skin on skin, I feel nothing but the burning of desire and that's just foreplay ♪

He picks you up and brings you to the couch, laying you down gently as he gets on top of you. The both of you still sobbing together. His tears fall onto your cheeks as his face gets closer to yours.

Can I please kiss you sweetheart? Please, even if it's the last time I get to.

You thought it was impossible for your heart to break even more, but what he just said proved you so wrong. He knew this was the end. You nod yes as you can't even produce coherent words at this point because you're crying so much. He leans in slowly, pausing when your noses meet, holding your face in his calloused hands and places kisses on the apples of your cheeks before hesitating at your lips.

I'm so fucking sorry. He cries as he finally presses your lips together, his thumbs rubbing against your face.

♪ We're heading deep inside lives a voice, a voice so quiet

But I can't hear that voice when your heart beats next to mine

I can't quit you, I can't quit you

I can't quit you, I can't quit you ♪

You don't want the kiss to end, hell, you don't want the relationship to end, but you know it's better to just savor this moment than to keep destroying your mental by staying with him.

♪ Yeah, I'm gonna regret it

Yeah, I'm gonna regret it

Yeah, I'm gonna regret it

I know I'm gonna regret it ♪

Kisses led to soft touches and eventually, sex. He was gentle and slow, your favorite. As soon as you were done, he helps you put your clothes back on, then his own. The sweet gesture making you melt inside, forgetting what he did a week ago for a few seconds. You so badly want to stay with him, but there are consequences to cheating, and you know the relationship won't be the same ever again. The thought of going from lovers to strangers physically hurts you inside, and you begin to cry again as Eddie sits up against the couch staring up at the ceiling trying to hold back tears.

♪ I can't quit you, I can't quit you, oh baby

I can't quit you, I can't quit you, oh babe ♪

So this is goodbye then, right? His voice cracks.

Yeah. You cry.

♪ Gonna regret it

Yeah, I'm gonna regret it

Yeah, I'm gonna regret it ♪

He takes a deep breath as he stands up, still holding back tears as he walks to your front door, you following behind him. He turns to you before opening the door and hesitates for a second before giving you one last hug.

I'm so sorry sweetheart. You will forever be a part of me. I love you.

I love you too. Goodbye Eddie, please take care of yourself. You said wiping your tears as he nods and kisses your forehead and turns around, leaving your house for the last time.

♪ I'm gonna regret it

I'm gonna regret it (babe, babe, babe)

Gonna regret it

Yeah, I'm gonna regret it. ♪

[bifairywife]

I'm so fucking devastated and there's absolutely nothing I can do to get back what I lost.

I use canva pro on my senior high school email cause it's for free.

They told us that after graduating shs, we have two years extra with it.

The expiration was last year... it didn't come. I went "oh my gosh!! maybe there's no gmail expiration!! i'll have my canva pro foreverrrrr~"

I got too complacent. I backed-up NONE of my projects.

They did an auto delete on ALL of us today. There was no one week warning. Nothing.

I don't know about the others but I lost. So. Fucking. Much.

I'm can't draw, I'm really more of a writer. But i LOVE to edit. I love making visual stuff. Putting things together, placing pictures and elements and playing with colors and font styles.

I lost a total of two AND a half years worth of stuff. A mix of stuff for uni, things i made for my parents, and most of all my personal projects.

Tons of presentations for classes (this goes back on grade 11 too,,,,, oh the memories)

Literally so much assignments?! Posters, presentations, AND EVEN MY FUCKING RÉSUMÉ

Moodboards on dozens of OCs (Layla and Dominic for Invincible, Devina for Elden Ring, Medina "DeeDee" for Trese, like 5 of my DnD PCs, Octavia and Marie for Nevermore, Lorena "Lorrie" for TOH complete WITH A WHOLE NEW SCHOOL I CALL MOONVEIL ACADEMY IT HAD A CURRICULUM AND CLUBS AND PRINCIPAL OC TECHNICALLY TOO)

Moodboard on the characters for my book (I got references for appearances AND outfits)

Presentations and notes on my ship AUs (mostly jaystephroy in the fashion industry, DnD style medieval fantasy, and this one 2004 movie with gerard butler)

Presentations and notes on my winx club reboot (so, so, soooo much fashion notes and references for the winx AND trix)

Presentations for silly fandom stuff that I was really excited to show to my friends and post here (potential of jaysteph as a ship, dilf ranking in invincible for that one anon, a very descriptive "what's in the bags" of cott seven, other rarepair ppts to get my friends to ship em GAH)

DnD templates for this campaign with my jhs friends (I had stuff printed out for my bard's SPELLBOOK and we could use so much of those edits for notes and extra character lore)

Personal stuff I made for myself (like that magazine style in landscape form about my life updates, a little modeling stuff I did to compile clothes inspo for winx club, this REALLY colorful and cute collages for my wallpapers)

Personal stuff I made for my friends (a couple of memes, birthday stuff, this really cute and sweet virtual scrapbook for "meet the members" with my college friend group)

TONS of invincible characters icon edits (they've been in there FOR MONTHS, the requests oh i am so sorry moots and anons)

A couple stuff i made for my mom and dad (they got to use them all so they're not wasted)

I'm just,,,,,, so sad I didn't get to back them up. I only posted some of them and sent even fewer wips to a few friends.

Honestly I think the biggest tragedy here for me is that I won't ever be able to recreate them. A lot of the texts and descriptions I made were written there DIRECTLY. I had lore. I had dialogue. I had details and stats.

Two and a half years of editing personal projects and assignments. Just. Gone.

There's absolutely nothing I can do to get any of them back. Now all I can do is grieve and hope that I can recreate them.

[madaboutmunson]

The Drive-In Part 13

Part 1 | Part 12 | Part 14 | Links to all Parts | AO3 Link

Taglist: @2btheanswertothequestion @cr0w-culture @panicatthediaz @rhyswritesreadsandcries @weirdspaceowl @duraffinity

Eddie knows this was probably stupid. He didn't have to make banana pancakes from scratch. He could be on his way to his van now and home, but he knew that shitty feeling after a meltdown only too well.

His reasoning being if he could see Steve eat something relatively healthy, he wouldn't worry all day. He knew that wasn't the only reason. He'd done this a lot of times.

Pancakes the morning after. The girls rarely stayed. Maybe realizing their mistake, or perhaps being uncomfortable in a trailer, he'd usually be up early making them because he'd been too excited to rest properly and had probably already spent a good hour watching them sleep peacefully next to him.

Now the emergency was over. He was trying to keep eye contact with Steve to a minimum because now Steve was wide awake and sober. Eddie was worried about how much his own eyes would give away. He never was that good at hiding his true feelings on his face. So he kept his head down and ate.

Eddie notices Steve is picking at his food,.moving it around more than actually eating it, "You haven't gotta eat them if you don't like them. No offence taken," Eddie says with a little false laugh.

The clang of Steve's fork against the plate makes Eddie look up from his food. Eddie tries to remember to look as calm as possible, like he did when he hid a secret during a hellfire campaign. But this time, he was full of dread instead of harbouring a feeling of excitement for the final reveal. He didn't know if Steve could remember everything, nothing, or something in between. His eyes go back to his food.

"Listen, Eddie," Steve starts, and Eddie feels his stomach churning, but he continues to eat and responds with a hum and absolutely is not going to take his eyes off his plate. He isn't. Nope.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I just...um...a few years ago. I was at my friend's house, and this guy broke in, and I think that maybe that's kinda stuck with me," Steve explains.

"Well, that must have been fucking terrifying. No need to apologize, man. I've had a few meltdowns in my time." Eddie looks up for a moment and tries to give a comforting laugh, "Nowhere near as violent though. I'm more a yelling, screaming, fainting kinda guy".

Steve's eyes look up to his, and Eddie couldn't look away for all the Gibson S.Gs in the world.

"Really?" Steve asks quietly, and though his mouth doesn't smile, his hypnotic eyes read hopeful, and they are searching for it in Eddie's eyes.

"Yeah, really," Eddie replies gently. Maybe more gently than he should have because Steve looks away.

Eddie clears his throat, reaches for his glass of juice, and takes a sip. Then, he nervously thumbs at his rings with his free hand under the table.

"I don't really remember much of the details after the pool last night," Steve starts, "But I feel like I had fun, and I hope I didn't do or say anything dumb, you know?"

"Same," Eddie laughs. Of course, it's a complete lie; he remembers everything, every look, every word, every touch, every move, but the laugh is genuine and of nervous relief.

To Eddie's surprise, Steve also laughs, and it's music to his ears. As he looks up, Steve discards his fork and picks up a pancake like a taco and bites it clean in half and then the other. His cheeks are packed like a hamster.

Eddie feels a warmth in his very soul, and he feels a huge grin split his face, "Don't ever let it be said that I don't bring good shit to the party," he says happily.

"Munson, I will never doubt you again," Steve replies, mouth partially full before he drowns a pancake in syrup and devours that one too.

A little warmth spreads across Eddie's face. He knows he's blushing, shakes his hair in front of his face to hide it, and eats a small, precisely cut square of pancake. He didn't always eat this delicately. More than anything, he wasn't hungry. Which he really should be. He should be ravenous, but his stomach feels full already of a billion butterflies.

It was already blowing his mind he was feeling this way about a guy, but not just any guy. Steve Harrington. But not just Steve Harrington. Mentally unhinged, I-thought-he-was-going-to-kill-me-this-morning Steve Harrington.

Maybe, if he'd just made his apologies and walked out of that room, Eddie wouldn't have seen that look in his eyes. He was broken and fragile underneath it all, and Eddie was a fixer and protector.

"I can't believe you found pancake mix. I didn't even know we had any," Steve laughs, demolishing pancake number four.

Eddie isn't sure whether to tell him, so he changes the subject.

"So, besides chauffeuring me back to my old lady, what does Sunday hold for, Steve?" Eddie was mainly making polite conversation, but part of him wanted to know. Not so much to know Steve's plans, but that sensible side of Eddie wanted to hear a mention of a date, a girl's name, or something that would kill his dreamy impossible hopes where they stood to nuke those billion butterflies.

Steve laughs, covering his still full mouth, "Pretty funny you think I have any plans other than recovering"

"Haven't partied like that in a while, huh?" Eddie smirks back.

"The last time I partied, even close to last night, there were a lot more people around, and my girlfriend told me I was bullshit" Steve laughs and shakes his head, wiping the last of his stack around his plate.

"Well, that sound like it sucked," Eddie says with a frown.

"Oh, it absolutely did, and you know what else? I think she cursed me. Since then, I've been having issues I didn't even know I had!" Steve gestures to himself animatedly. "I mean, I don't have issues getting dates. But, once on a date, I'll do something and think, Was that me, or was that bullshit? You know? Like it's constantly there, just waiting" Steve puts his hands up, imitating a bear.

"Sounds like you got sucker punched to me, dude," Eddie says supportively.

Watching Steve talk animatedly like this flashes Eddie back to being called smart, and his stomach isn't just somersaulting. It's doing an entire gymnastics routine as he looks up at Steve.

Steve is out of his seat, hand pointed at Eddie, "Exactly! Exactly this" His hands go to his hips as he paces around, and for a second, Eddie's eyes follow them.

Eddie should really go home now.

"You know, I've had a fun time and all, but I think I better get to my van before someone who hates me gets there first" The speed at which Eddie gets out of his seat makes everything on the table clatter as he bumps it.

Eddie quickly starts clearing away the dishes, "That's a no!" Steve says with authority, taking the plates from Eddie, "You've done enough today."

Eddie puts his hands at the small of his back and blurts out, "I'm not great at measuring, so there is like another stack and a half in the oven" then his fingers find a string, and he realizes he still has the apron on. He whips it off at lightning speed, quickly collects his jackets and lunch box, and waits in the hallway nervously.

Hurry up, Steve, Jesus!

It's only a minute or two before Steve appears, keys and jump cables in hand, but it felt like hours to Eddie.

"Figured I'd bring these just in case" he holds them up proudly. Eddie nods and smiles, not having the heart to tell him he's holding two positive ones, but Eddie has some in his van anyway.

When they get in the car, Eddie puts his seat belt on straight away, and as soon as he starts the engine, Steve puts a tape in the stereo, switches it on, and turns it up a little. Eddie looks at Steve from the corner of his eye, and he swears he's smiling at him.

Eddie can hear Steve's fingers tap the steering wheel as the intro of some familiar piano chords kick in, and Steve taps along before singing along in a mumble.

Just take those old records off the shelf

I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself

Today's music ain't got the same soul

Eddie joins in

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

"Whooooo," Steve exclaims, as he slaps the steering wheel at the sound of Eddie's voice.

The irony of the following verse is not lost on Eddie, who starts laughing, earning him a gentle backhanded tap from Steve, "Hey, don't laugh at my singing!"

"I'm not, I swear!" Eddie protests and secretly smiles happily out the window, "I just enjoy being right. I did say you probably liked Seger."

"No!" Steve playfully tries to deny it, "Wrong. I just happen to like this song." Steve laughs and says excitedly, "Oh, it's on now."

"What's on?" Eddie turns to Steve in confusion.

"I'm gonna annihilate you singing this song, Munson" Steve grins over at him, rewind's the tape, and hits play again.

They attempt to outsing one another all the way back to the drive-in, and Eddie, in his element, entirely forgets anything troubling his mind and lets himself enjoy the moment.

Eddie jumps in the van, and she starts up on the first try. He laughs, "That's my girl," he says, patting the outside of the door.

He looks down at Steve leaning against his car, like a fucking movie star, cigarette hanging from his lip, one leg hitched up against the door, one hand on his hip, the other playing with his hair as he looks out into the distance.

Jesus Christ, this is really bad, but at least it was nearly over.

"Well, Harrington, it's been a pleasure. Thanks, I owe you one," Eddie says with a smile.

Steve's head snaps to Eddie like he just woke him out of a daydream, "Don't worry about it. I'll see you around, yeah?"

Eddie forces a grin and a little salute before he drives away.

He brakes to give way at the drive-in exit and catches a glimpse of the back of Steve in the mirror, and his heart sinks. He plants a kiss on his two fingers, presses them on Steve's reflection, and quietly says, "See you around, Steve."

[littleladymab]

FebruarOC - Carroway

Everyone's favorite, the babiest Shelby sibling!! Another for the RoomWhere crowd when they were doing their ramp up to the new setting in season 2; it took some googling but I FOUND the system! It is called Spirit of 77and was super fun and funky in a 70's funk sort of way! But we did it in space Appalachia.  

Zach & Jade played the eldest and middle shelby siblings respectively. Carroway was the getaway driver because her motto is "gotta go fast". She is a professional race mech pilot (WELL professional is a loose term I think it's technically illegal) (she has a racer persona as well called White Lightning!) 

As the youngest sibling, she didn't know her parents all that well, and shortly after they died her brother Samson got arrested and went away to planet jail for a long time so she just has these mythical images of her family in her mind, the way that they were always talked about giving themselves to the cause etc, and the only one she was really close to was Cooper. But because of that, and growing up in a setting where people had more important things than her to worry about (you know, like revolution), she grew into a really wild child. To the point where she was basically a thrill seeker (her Buzz in game was Thrills: "gain experience in any session where you do something just to see if you can succeed"). 

No one could stop her, so she just went. 

So we stole a mech, in this lead-up game or w/e it's been years I can't really remember the details, and we might have Made Some Noise whoops. I do remember we had a space pick-up truck, that Carroway ISN'T allowed to drive because it is Coop's, but she had her own mech for back-up/distraction to help the pick-up truck haul ass out of there. 

The Shelby's returned in the campaign proper in which we played a combo of Beam Saber and Scum & Villainy (if I remember correctly??) They needed to get to a fancy party for this really famous war profiteer in order to steal something for our crew, so Carroway used her racing persona to finagle an invitation (I think Coop was her "bodyguard" or something, they ditched her pretty early to go infiltrate, and Samson got a job as security for the party), and midway through the party we ran into the the actual crew, and thus the stories combined! 

During that heist, it turned into kind of a mess, and Samson got arrested again, and Carroway was PISSED. 

In the end, I don't think Carroway was a good fit for the way the story was going, partly because I was just so removed from the plot of the campaign (I didn't have time or brainpower to listen to the podcast), and Carroway's major takeaway from all of it was just "Fuck y'all and fuck the war" because it ruined her family and it ruined her childhood in a way that the other characters couldn't connect with -- they were all older, and were actively committed to the cause and participated in the war, but Carroway was between 18 (in spirit of 77) and like 23 TOPS by the end of it. And because there were just so many people at the table between the core cast + the Shelbys, it was real hard to get a word in edgewise (for me) and Carroway just simply couldn't bond with any of the others when her siblings did. 

Still, I love her a lot, she was bratty but loved her siblings fiercely and was Real Good at running away from her problems because boy she could run VERY FAST (in a race mech). 

Here is her pinboard, and here is her playlist! And you can check out the art that I posted previously (sorry no twitter mirror it was so long ago I don't know where it is) from my friend Elin! Her character sheet details for both systems are up for free on patreon. 

[wild-karrde]

Woot, congrats on the milestone (here's to many other to be reached! 🧃)!! I like your writing so much, you deserve each follower you got <3 Now may I request a quote? Rex + "look what this love's done to me"

Remember to keep hydrated!

HELLO LOVELY ANON! Thank you SO MUCH *clinks juice box*. I am so STOKED you like my writing and am very grateful for YOU!

I hope you don't mind I got QUITE angsty on this one (and a teeny bit spicy). Thank you so much for the ask!

Pairing: Captain Rex x Reader

Rating: E (18+ MINORS SKEEDADDLE - PiV sex, ANGST SO MUCH ANGST)

You stare out the window, watching the steady glow of the speeder traffic flow by in the levels below. The cup of tea you’re holding went cold about ten minutes ago, but you’re still holding on to it tightly, as if there’s any more comforting warmth to be had. Your brow is furrowed in thought as you sigh in frustration. 

He was supposed to be here by now.

You’d canceled your plans for the evening when he’d commed you to tell you he was coming in tonight. Your friends had groaned and given you shit, but ultimately, you’d stood your ground. 

“You’re not as fun as you used to be.” 

“You never come out any more.”

“I hope he’s worth it.”

You sip the cold bitter liquid, wrinkling your nose slightly. 

Look what this love’s done to me.

You used to go out every night you could with friends or business colleagues, wining and dining and dancing the night away, but now it seemed you rarely left your apartment, waiting for him to call or hoping he’d have a few minutes to spare to grace you with his presence. He was a busy man, you understood that, but it didn’t make it any more frustrating to be at the mercy of the Grand Army of the Republic when you’d never signed up to put on a uniform. 

Technically, he wasn’t given the option either.

The furrow between your brows softens slightly at that thought. He never asked you to wait of course, but you couldn’t waste a second of the precious time you had with him. Even the most fleeting moments where all he can do is kiss you before running to his next briefing makes your heart flutter. And the nights where he can actually give you all of his time, well those almost seem to make it all worth it. 

Almost. 

You love Rex, of that there’s no doubt. He’s the kindest, gentlest soul you’ve ever known, which seems ironic considering his success as a soldier. You’ve long suspected that’s why he seems to crave tender moments with you the most. Of course there are nights he takes you roughly in your bed, pounding into you while he growls filth into your ear. Those nights, it’s apparent he’s working through something, and you’re more than happy to be his outlet, letting him work it out of his system while you ride wave after wave of pleasure. 

But it’s the nights where he gently pulls you into his lap, removing his gloves so he can feel your skin, the nights that he takes his time that you both love the most. Tears leap into your eyes at the memory of the night he came back from the Umbara campaign. You’d heard rumblings in the news holos, giving just enough detail to let you know it was horrific without telling you anything at all. You hadn’t left your room that night, waiting until the early hours of the morning when your comm finally pinged. His voice had sounded so tired. 

“I-I’m sorry if I woke you. Would it be alright if I came over when we land?” 

He’d come in, stripping his armor and stacking it wordlessly before bringing you to your bedroom, laying down in bed with you and just holding you closely. He’d fallen asleep with his head on your chest, lulled by the beat of your heart as you gently rubbed his head. His fingers were holding you so tightly, as if you might disappear. 

You hadn’t left your apartment for two days, calling off for work. You were fairly certain the meeting you’d missed had cost you a promotion, but you’d never tell him that. You were certain he’d tell you it wasn’t worth it, that he wasn’t worth it.

But is he right? Is it worth it? Worth giving up the life I once had? Worrying about him constantly? Wondering if he’ll survive this war?

It had only been a few months. Perhaps it was time to call it off, save both of you the heart break of getting in too deep only to realize it wasn’t what you wanted. 

You had a future planned. If you keep going, it’s going to disappear. And then what?

You’d asked him last time he was on Coruscant what sort of future he imagined. His gaze had grown distant as he played with your hair absently. 

“Don’t know. Never really thought much about it.” 

Your heart had fallen slightly, and he must have noticed. He glanced down at you with those eyes that were so piercing and yet so warm at the same time. His thumb brushed your cheek as he cradled your face. 

“But I hope that we get to find out together.” 

Look what this love’s done to me. Putting all of my chips on a future that may not exist. 

Your life had been a series of carefully planned endeavors, most of which were executed flawlessly. You always knew what you were having for dinner before you met Rex, always knew what your schedule looked like for the week. You stayed late at work, always going the extra mile. And now, here you were, plans canceled yet again in the hope that he might materialize in your doorway. 

“I hope he’s worth it.” 

You sigh pressing your forehead against the cool transparisteel of your window. Is this a future worth pursuing? 

Why do you always do this to yourself with him? 

The answer was so simple when you thought about it. 

You love him. More than you’ve ever loved another person in your life. 

Memories of waking next to him flood your mind. The way his eyes open slowly, and you can tell he’s gotten the best sleep he’s had in a while. The warmth that blooms in your chest when he reaches for you in his sleep, pulling you against his chest. The way the corners of his eyes pinch when he laughs. The protectiveness he feels for his brothers. The way he pulls you close to dance in the kitchen, humming quietly in your ear as you stir whatever meal you’re making for him. No matter what you cook, it’s always the best thing he’s ever tasted. The way he whispers in your ear how much you mean to him as he thrusts into you at night, assuring you that he’ll never love another the way he loves you. Your face flushes with heat. 

The door of your apartment beeps before hissing open, and you’re jerked from your thoughts as you whirl to see that familiar silhouette standing there. He pulls his helmet off, and despite the bags under his eyes and the hunch of his shoulders, he musters a smile that makes you melt. 

“Hey there, beautiful,” he rasps. 

“I hope he’s worth it.”

Your vision blurs with tears as your friend’s words echo in your mind once more, and a realization settles into place. 

He always will be. Whatever the future holds, I want him in it. And we’ll figure it out together.

You move to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. His helmet falls to the floor with a clunk as his hands come to rest on your hips, pulling you against him. He smells like sweat and blaster smoke, and the feel of his mouth against yours is intoxicating in the best way. You shudder in his grasp.

“Everything alright?” he asks, despite looking dead on his feet. 

You cradle his face, pressing your forehead to his as you huff out a laugh. 

“Never better.”

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