#so very few things of the campaign were a surprise to me

[purplelapislazuli]

Yesterday I watched the Campaign 2 wrap up and tomorrow I get to see them again!!!!!!!

I am so excited for so many things but the one I'm most hyped up is!!! The seating positions!!!!!!

Finally after so many years!!!!!!!!!! Travis/Marisha/Liam will be back!!!!

Also, I think Sam/Laura is heavily underappreciated. They're the most unhinged cast members and used to spend the sessions drawing dicks in Laura's notebook

[bloodibambiidoll]

Cat and Mouse

(Perv!Eddie Munson x Perv!Fem Reader)

Summary: Eddie thinks you are innocent and oblivious to all the pervy things he does behind your back, but what he doesn’t know is that you’re fully aware. Not only that, but you like it, and you just might be a bit of a perv yourself. WK: 8k (idk what happened)

Warnings: Where do I even begin? This is filthy guys… Panty stealing, honestly just Eddie and Reader both taking things of each others without asking (and using them to pleasure themselves), Maybe a tiny bit of angst? Idk there’s like a second where they’re both doubting themselves but it’s solved quickly. SMUTTTT!!! Unprotected P in V, Oral (M and F receiving), overstimulation(on R), hair pulling, slightly sub!Eddie? Idk he’s just really down bad(but so is R), dirty talk but like dirty dirty. Idk what to tell y’all they’re pervs, they’re gross, this is feral. If I missed anything pls lmk!! 18+MNDI!!

A/N: Listen… idk what came over me with this one… a horny demon possessed me and wrote this.. It was fueled by my feral period brain and all the perv Eddie fics I’ve seen where Reader is innocent, which is still very hot and I love it but I’m a whore so I wanted to write something where maybe she wasn’t as innocent as Eddie thought. That’s it, that’s all I have to say, pls enjoy the filth. 😌 (also shout out to @take-everything-you-can for mentioning something about taking Eddie’s shirt, I kind of took that idea and ran a mile with it.) My Masterlist

You met Eddie a few months ago, you were working at your uncle’s comic book shop when he came in looking for some dice. He came in a few more times after that, always needing something for his campaign, or looking for a comic for one of his younger friends he told you about. He would always stay and talk to you for a while, telling you things about his life, asking about yours. Eventually he asked you if you wanted to come to one of his shows and the two of you had basically been inseparable since.

You hadn’t known him long but it didn’t take long for you to pick up on a few things. Like how his eyes would always linger on your thighs when you’d cross them on his bed in your little ruffly skirts, or how they looked like they were going to pop out of his head when he noticed you hardly ever wear a bra. You noticed he always talked to you in this way that made you seem so innocent and pure, untouched. You weren’t, but noticed he liked it, so you played into it.

You started to notice things going missing, a pair of underwear that didn’t quite make it in the dirty clothes basket, a tester vile of your perfume you had left over from before you decided it was worth buying the whole bottle, a picture of you from your stack of polaroids that was of you at the beach in your little red bikini.

So you started leaving things. Your dirty underwear on display, always at the very top of your laundry basket. A nearly empty bottle of your favorite lotion sitting next to the trash, ready to be thrown out. A picture of your tits with your forearm just barely covering your nipples at the top of the stack of Polaroids.

Each time they would be gone, and you weren’t sure at this point if he was just playing along or if he was the one that was really that naive.

•

The first time Eddie saw you he was convinced you were an angel. Standing behind the counter at the comic shop downtown in your little white sweater and pink skirt. When he walked up to look at the dice in the glass underneath the register he could see your white thigh high socks. You had this cute ribbon in your hair and when you spoke your voice sounded like sugarcane. You asked him if there where any sets that stood out to him, and then you surprised the hell out of him by asking if they were for D&D. You had never played, but your cousins and your uncle did, so you knew the basics.

He couldn’t stop himself from coming in after that, finding any excuse to make a trip to see his favorite girl. Maybe he would decide he needed a new mini for an NPC or offer to go get a new release of a comic for Dustin while he was at school. He always spent a while standing there talking to you, getting to know you, ogling you because he just couldn’t help himself. How could he? When you would lean over the counter giving him a perfect view of your tits through your thin shirts and hardly ever wore a bra? When you would ask him to hold the ladder steady so you could get something up high and he would get a perfect view up your skirt of whatever panties you wore that day? You were irresistible.

He learned that you weren’t only beautiful but actually really cool. You knew a lot about comics, you had read Tolkien, you loved horror movies possibly more than he did, and you were down to give any music a chance.

You also had this innocence about you, like you almost didn’t realize how much he wanted you. It just made him want you more. You’d look at him with those big round eyes and pouty lips whenever he would tease you about something. When he would compliment you outright you always made this little squeaky noise and he would notice you squirm or press your thighs together.

But once you started hanging out with him outside of work that’s when he really lost control. The first time he was at your house he saw a pair of your panties next to your laundry basket. Clearly dirty by the way he could see your juices left behind on the crotch of them. You were in the bathroom changing and he just couldn’t resist. He picked them up off the ground and held them up to his nose, inhaling your scent. He felt slightly sick but he had already gone this far so he figured he might as well just have a little taste. He licked the patch where your pussy was, and even though they had mostly dried you still tasted divine. His head spun and his cock hardened as he imagined what you would really taste like. He heard the bathroom door across the hall creak open so he quickly shoved the panties into his back pocket and sat down on your bed, one leg bent at the knee crossed over the other to try and hide the very prominent bulge in his pants.

Then there was the time you had to run down to the mailboxes to check your mail, he already had been subtly staring at the small vial of your perfume after you proudly announced to him that you decided it was your signature scent now, showing him the larger bottle. He figured you wouldn’t need the small one anymore, it was almost gone anyways. So he did what he’s been finding himself doing more and more often when he’s in your room, he pocketed it. That night he sprayed it on his pillow, holding it to his face while he had your panties wrapped around his cock. Bucking into his hand with reckless abandon, imaging what yours might feel like instead.

Then there was the day he was at your apartment before you were supposed to meet up with some of his friends for a movie night and you wanted to shower after work. He was bored, snooping around a little like he usually does when he gets a moment alone in your room, and he came across a stack of Polaroids. His heart warmed when the top one was a photo of you and him at a metal show you went to with him and the guys a few towns away.

You were always surprising him and that night was no exception, banging your head until your little ribbon was about to fall out of your hair. He fixed it for you, of course. He kept looking through the stack of photos, seeing images of you and your friends back home, some of you and your cousins, and tons of you here in Hawkins. Mostly of you and him, some with his friends that were now yours too. But when he got almost to the bottom of the stack he saw a photo of you and your friends at the beach, all smiling wide at the camera. He could only see your neck and shoulders but he could tell you were wearing a little red bikini of some kind. He eagerly flipped to the next photo, hoping there might be one that proved him right, and he was not disappointed.

This picture was just you, laying on the beach with your legs outstretched in front of you, your hands were buried in the sand and just like he thought you were wearing a bright red bikini.

The way you were leaning back on your hands was making your chest stick out and the way one of your legs was slightly bent made it so he could just see the curve of your ass from the side. Your skin glistened with what he assumed was a mixture of sunscreen and sweat and he wanted to lick it off. Your eyes were adorned with heart shaped sunglasses that matched the red of your swimsuit and if he looked close enough he could tell even your toes matched.

He felt his cock harden immediately, licking his lips at the sight. Without even really thinking he shoved the photo in the back pocket of his jeans, hoping you wouldn’t notice it missing.

You tempted him twice that day, it was just too easy when you threw your clothes on top of the basket after your shower and walked into the kitchen to get a snack. Your panties were directly on top, the crotch side up, and he could see a fresh wet patch there. He couldn’t help it, he pocketed them and excused himself to the bathroom, running his tongue along the cloth where your juices had collected. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and he felt like he was going to pass out. It only took a few tugs of his cock before he was spilling cum all over his hand and exiting the bathroom with his pockets full of treasures like nothing ever happened.

•

About two weeks into this cat and mouse game you still weren’t sure you were just playing with yourself, you were alone in Eddie’s room. He ran out to his van to check for the tape he was looking for and you were sitting on his bed and one of his shirts was thrown haphazardly near his pillows like he had taken it off right before going to sleep. The thought came to you and before you could question it you were grabbing it and holding it up to your nose. It smelled good but not like you were expecting. You were expecting the scent of weed mixed with tobacco, apple shampoo and the aftershave you got for him after you told him the smell of the one he was using smelled like a 60 year old man’s wife picked it out for him.

It smelled like those things, but it also smelled like… you, your perfume. But there was something else. When you picked it up it felt slightly dry and maybe a little bit crunchy and upon closer inspection you noticed that it was dried cum. Did he spray your perfume onto his cum shirt? Was he smelling it while he stroked his cock? Thinking of you? The thought made your pussy pulse and your head spin, but it wasn’t what you wanted. Plus, he would definitely notice this missing. So when you heard the trailer door swing open you acted fast. Grabbing one of his discarded shirts that was on the ground near his bed and shoving it into your bag.

That night you did something you would’ve felt ashamed of if you weren’t positive Eddie’s done something similar, maybe even dirtier from the looks and smells of that shirt you found.

You wrapped Eddie’s shirt around your pillow and rode it until you came three times. As you drifted off to sleep still holding onto the pillow you wondered how much longer you could go without actually having the real thing.

•

Eddie was starting to wonder if you were doing this on purpose, his first indication of that being what he was currently holding in his hands. You were in the kitchen making lunch for the both of you and he was snooping around, as one does. But something caught his eye when he was walking by your shelf, something that wasn’t there before. Right on top of the stack of Polaroids he had found the bikini photo in was a picture of your tits. Your nipples were covered by your forearm, but your tits nonetheless. He was absolutely positive this hadn’t been there before, he definitely would have noticed.

Did you notice that he took the bikini photo and leave this here on purpose so he would see it? Did you take this for someone else? The thought of that made him sick to his stomach. His thoughts were bouncing around in his head like a ping pong ball trying to decide if he was reading into it, if he should take the photo or leave it. If he took it would you be mad? Would you be offended if he didn’t?

Before he could contemplate his decision further he heard your steps coming down the hall so he made a snap judgment and shoved it in his pocket. Practically launching himself onto your bed, he grabbed one of your cute frilly pillows, threw it on his lap and hoped it wouldn’t come off as suspicious.

You were walking down the hall with two bowls of Mac and cheese when you heard a shuffling sound and then the creaking of your mattress like someone just jumped on it. You smirk to yourself, wondering if Eddie saw the gift you left him.

When you open your bedroom door he’s sitting on your bed with a pillow in his lap, he flashes you a smile that is almost believable but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks. You set his bowl down on top of the pillow, and smile back.

“There you go Eds, one gourmet bowl of Kraft, as promised.” You mock curtsied, setting your own bowl down on your nightstand before walking over to your dresser under the guise of grabbing some socks. Making sure to glance as subtlety as possible at your shelf, and just as you thought, the photo was gone.

“Why thank you madam” Eddie held the spoon in his hand with his pinky out as he dramatically took a bite.

You giggled at his antics, as you grabbed the socks out of your top drawer you saw an opportunity to tease him further. You had already seen Eddie eyeing you in your little house shorts and your tank top so you pulled out your white thigh thighs, the soft fuzzy ones that you only really wore at home and made a show of putting them on.

You kept your back to him, bending over extra as you slid them slowly up your legs. You make sure to pull them up as high as they go. Leaving only a small section of skin between the top of the socks and the bottom of your shorts.

Eddie was pretty sure he was going to pass out and he thanked his past self for putting this pillow where it is right now. He watched as you pulled on your socks wondering how something as mundane as putting on fucking socks could be this sexy. When you snapped each one in place it made the meat of your thighs slightly giggle and the way they were sitting just under the curve of your ass was making it look extra juicy. He wanted to bite into it before he made his way between your thighs and spent the rest of his god damn life there.

“Fuck” He swore under his breath and hoped to god you didn’t hear him.

“Hmm? Eddie, you okay?”

You turn around and look at him with that fucking look you always gave him, like you didn’t know how sexy you were, like you didn’t know you drive him fucking crazy.

“Uh - Yeah! I was just saying fuck this is really good, I forgot how much some good ol’ kraft hits the spot.” He smiled and hoped his excuse was convincing enough, taking a large bite for good measure.

“Right? It’ll always be my favorite no matter how many homemade or restaurant kinds I’ve eaten, nothing beats it.”

You crawl onto your bed, making sure he can see down your shirt and plop down next to him on the pillows, leaning over to grab your bowl off your nightstand. Eddie can see your ass even more when your shorts ride up and he suddenly feels like he’s got to get out of here before he says or does something totally humiliating.

“I - uh - I just remembered I have to help Wayne! I told him I’d help him move his stuff into my old room since he has been so tired and hasn’t done it! So I’m - I gotta go!” He stood up swiftly, turning away from you and throwing the pillow down behind him. He didn’t turn around, just kept marching towards your door with his bowl still in hand. Only when he was practically out of your bedroom door did he turn his head to the side and address you.

“Thank you for lunch! I’ll leave the bowl in the sink! I’ll um - I’ll see you later!”

He didn’t even give you a chance to respond, ditching the bowl in the sink, grabbing his shoes not even bothering to put them on as he ran out the door to his van in only his socks.

You sat there with your mouth hanging open, eyes wide as you stared at your bedroom door wondering what the fuck just happened. Did you go too far? Were you making him uncomfortable? Maybe he changed his mind about you… Or maybe… maybe he ran home to jerk off… maybe you did go too far but not in a bad way. That’s what you hoped at least.

You bit your lip and clenched your thighs as you entertained that possibility. Was he going to go home and jerk off to your photo? Maybe with your panties held to his nose or wrapped around his cock? At least that’s what you liked to imagine he did with them, you could be wrong.

•

You were wrong, but not about that. Eddie normally used your panties exactly how you imagined. But not right now, no. He didn’t even make it home, hell, he barely made it out of your apartment building before he was pulling off into some trees and furiously tugging at his cock while he practically dripped drool on your photo. He made sure not to though, he couldn’t taint it like that. It had to remain in perfect condition in case this was his only chance to see your tits.

He grunted and whined, spitting down onto his cock and rubbing it around his tip with his thumb. His pace increased as he imagined it was your hand, or even better, your tits. He imagined sliding his spit slick cock between them while you sucked and licked at the head, he imagined covering your face and tits with his cum.

“FUCK!” He throws his head back against the seat, his eyes cross and he practically bites through his bottom lip as he cums all over his hand, his pants, even some on his shirt.

After he came down from his high, the reality of what he did hit him. He not only probably confused the hell out of you by running off like that without barely saying goodbye, he just jerked off in his fucking van to a photo he took from your bedroom. This was getting out of hand. He had to get himself under control, maybe some distance would help.

•

You hadn’t seen Eddie all week, ever since he ran out of your room like a bat out of hell and that was unusual. You guys usually saw each other a few times during the week, even if it was one of you bringing the other lunch while you were at work.

You called him a few times, either getting his voicemail or only having a brief conversation before he came up with an excuse to get off the phone. You started to wonder if you were reading things wrong after all. But that just didn’t make sense, why would he take all those things if he didn’t like you? If he didn’t want you in the desperate way you wanted him? You almost felt like you needed him.

So you decided to make a last ditch effort, no beating around the bush this time you were going to be straight forward. You grab Eddie’s shirt, your Polaroid, and your white lacy thigh highs with the little pink bows that he bashfully complimented one day.

You wrap the shirt around your pillow like you have done so many times now you’re almost ashamed. You take off your shirt and shorts before pulling on the thigh highs, leaving you in just your little white lace panties and socks.

The first photo you take is a shot from above of your tits, you can see your thong and the very top of your lace adorned thighs.

The second features your face, your eyes wide in that way you know he loves, your middle and pointer finger shoved down your throat with your lips wrapped around them. If you look close enough you can see a bit of drool dripping down between your boobs.

The third photo is a full nude, your legs spread and pussy on full display for him.

The next one is the one you’re most excited for, the one that sparked this entire plan. It’s an upshot of you from the neck down, you’re straddling the pillow that’s wrapped in Eddie’s shirt in just your socks, your free hand grabbing onto one of your tits.

The last photo is you in the same position but it’s from below, you have your fingers on your pussy, opening yourself up for him against the material of his shirt.

Satisfied with the spread, you gather them up, grab your discarded thong and remove the shirt from your pillow. You fold the panties and the photos into the shirt like they’re a gift to be unwrapped and put them in a little box. Then you write out a note.

Eddie,

if you wanted my panties… all you had to do was ask. You’ve taken all my cutest ones now. But that’s okay because I took something of yours too, I thought you might want it back.

Xoxo - Your angel.

You sign the note with the nickname he had awarded you and fold it in half, putting it on top of the shirt and then you put the lid on the box. Now all you had to do was give it to him, everyone had planned to meet at Gareth’s for a movie night tomorrow and he was supposed to pick you up. You could give it to him in the car before you get there and tell him not to open it until he gets home. It was the perfect plan. Hopefully.

���

Eddie was nervous on his way to pick you up for movie night, he had managed to avoid you the entire week, much to his dismay. He felt pathetic but he missed you, and even though he was still feeling guilty he was excited to see you.

He pulled into a guest parking spot in front of your building and was surprised to see you already standing there. He usually had to come in while you finished getting ready because you were perpetually running late. But you were standing there in a little white dress and a soft looking pink knit sweater, holding a little box in your arms. He figured it was some kind of baked goods, you pretty much always brought treats to every get together.

You saw him pull in and waved as you walked over, he jumped out of the car so he could come around and open the door for you.

“Hi Eddie, this is for you. But don’t open it now, open it when you get home. Okay? Promise me?”

You sounded nervous, hell, you looked nervous. What was in that box? He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through the night not knowing.

“A gift? For me? Angel, you shouldn’t have.” He tried to play it cool, even though he was feeling anything but.

“I didn’t spend any money on it or anything… but I’m not giving it to you unless you promise you won’t open it until you get home later.”

“Yeah, I promise.” He smiled at you reassuringly.

You handed it to him nervously, and he took it with glee, immediately shaking it like a Christmas present.

“EDDIE!! Don’t do that, you’re never going to guess what it is so just wait, please!”

You were looking at him with this pouty look on your face and he literally would’ve said yes to murder at that moment so he agreed. You let out a breath of relief as you got into the car, now all you had to do is wait.

•

Movie night wasn’t awkward like you feared it might be. When Eddie picked you up he acted totally normal, like he hadn’t been ignoring you all week and you couldn’t tell if that annoyed you or not. Maybe a little. You wanted to ask him about it but you also didn’t want to make things awkward by bringing it up so you tried to act as normal as you could.

That little box in the back of Eddie’s van was in the back of your mind all night though, you couldn’t stop overthinking and second guessing your decision. You even almost went out to his van at one point to take everything out and shove it in your bag but you talked yourself out of it.

Eddie was in a similar boat, he was having fun, he was engaging and acting as normal as he could but all he could think about was what possibly could be in that box. He knows you made him promise but there are several times where he has to physically stop himself from just going out to his van to look in it.

When the last movie ends you and Eddie were both quick to gather your things and leave. Him wanting to get home as fast as possible to see what was in the box and you wanting the looming thoughts of how he might react to just be over with.

Your goodbyes were chaste, neither of you bringing up the gift you had given him. He walked you to the door like he always did but he didn’t ask to come inside and the hug he gave was much faster than the usual bear hugs he would normally give you.

•

Eddie sped home, he lived in a studio apartment a few miles from yours and the drive had never felt so long. He pulled into his parking spot with a screech, grabbed the box from the back and rushed inside.

He didn’t even bother to take his shoes off, throwing his jacket across the back of the couch before plopping down on one of the cushions with the box in his lap.

He took a deep breath before opening it. At the top was a note, he unfolded it and as he read it he swore all the blood from his body went directly to his cock.

Underneath the note was his shirt, his favorite Iron Maiden one he hadn’t been able to find for a few weeks.

It was folded neatly so he gently took it out of the box, it felt heavier than it should and when it was fully in his grasp he could feel that there was something inside it.

He sets it down in front of him on his coffee table so he can unfold it and his jaw drops when he sees what’s inside. A pair of your panties, a little white lace thong is sitting under a stack of Polaroids.

His hand shakes as he reaches for the photos, when he sees the first one he actually moans, and then they somehow just keep getting better. But he stops dead in his tracks when he sees the second to last one.

You have his shirt wrapped around your pillow and you’re straddling it in nothing but those fucking socks, and he’s seriously going to lose his mind, especially when he sees the last photo of you in the same position, spread open for him.

It took him a second to get past the fog of lust to realize what this means. You knew. You always knew what he was doing. It all makes sense now. The way your panties were always so easy to steal, how he always happened to have the perfect view of your tits and ass, the photo. Also you took his shirt, you didn’t just take it, you put it on your fucking pillow and humped it. He hopes you did it more than once. He picks up the shirt again and he really looks at it this time, there’s little white streaks all over it, from you. He brings it to his nose and it’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. Both of your scents mixed together, topped off with the sweet smell of your pussy.

His initial thought was to rip his pants off and stroke his cock until it was raw but he realized he could do better than that. He could have the real thing. He needed to see you. Now.

He didn’t even think twice about shoving everything back in the box and walking back out the door to his van. Speeding off in the direction towards your house.

•

You were laying in your bed trying not to let your anxiety consume you when you heard banging on your door. Your heart pounded and your mouth went dry, you knew who it was, there was no way it could be anyone but him.

You opened the door and there he was, looking absolutely feral if you might add. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out, he was breathing like he ran a mile, and his hair was all over the place. You wanted to eat him alive.

“You knew?” He held up the box you had given him earlier the night, his hands shaking.

“Yeah…” You bit your lip as you nodded. “I knew the whole time… from when you took that first pair of panties, I knew.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” He looked at you, his eyes filled with lust and confusion.

You shake your head, a smirk forming across your lips.

“Why not?” He was still panting, hands grasped tightly on the box.

“It was fun, I thought for a while there that you knew I was doing it on purpose, and then when I realized you didn’t it was almost hotter to me for some reason… I’m sorry if that’s weird.” You suddenly felt super self conscious, was he mad you didn’t say anything?

“I stole your panties, multiple pairs might I add, and you’re asking me if it’s weird that you left them out for me?” He laughed, bringing his hand up to your cheek and rubbing his thumb across it.

“I could never think you were weird angel, do you know how sexy that is? And these photos…” He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Did you really…”

“Fuck my pillow with your shirt on it? Yeah.” You nodded, your face nuzzling into his palm.

“Jesus fucking christ… that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life, shit.”

He used the hand cradling your face to pull you closer, clashing your lips together in a hungry kiss. You immediately buried your fingers in his hair, like you did in all your fantasies. You wanted him closer but the box was still in between you so you broke the kiss long enough to pull him inside and discard it on your kitchen counter.

You pulled his mouth back down to yours by the collar of his shirt, running your tongue along his bottom lip and he immediately granted you access. Your hands made their way back into his hair and he gripped your hips pulling you tightly against him.

“God Eddie, I want you so fucking bad.” You moaned against his lips.

“Angel, I’ll give you anything you want after all these sweet gifts you’ve been leaving me without me even knowing��� you really thought I knew?” He took your face in both your hands, running his hands down your neck and rubbing his thumbs along your jaw.

“For a while there, yeah… That’s why I left you that first picture, but then when I came back in my room and you were acting all nervous I realized you definitely didn’t know. I thought for a second I might’ve made you uncomfortable but I took the chance with the photos anyway… looks like it paid off.” You looked him up and down, biting your lip.

“Fuck yeah it did.” He pulled you into another bruising kiss that you happily returned. You stood there in your kitchen making out for what could’ve been minutes or hours, tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths and your hands mapping out each other's bodies.

You finally pulled away, breathless. You smirked at him, placing a kiss on his throat before turning around and walking towards your room. Eddie wanted to scream at the sight of your ass in your tiny little pink spandex shorts. He bit down on his fist instead, admiring you for a moment before practically running after you.

You were standing in the middle of the room with a smirk on your face that he’s never seen, one you must have been hiding from him this whole time. You looked like you wanted to eat him alive and he was going to let you.

“Tell me about your fantasies Eddie… tell me what you did with my panties, I wanna know so bad.” Your smirk turned into a little pout, giving him that fucking look. The one he knows now is all an act, but something about that just makes his dick even harder for you.

“Fuck, you really want to know? The first time I sucked on them while I jerked off and right when I was about to cum I wrapped them around my dick and came all over them.”

“Mmm… that’s what I hoped you’d do, tell me more…” You walk up to him and run your hands down his chest, hook your fingers in his front pockets and give him the look.

“I can’t believe this is happening, I - uh - I was so scared if you ever found out you’d hate me. But fuck, I never imagined you would be into it.” He put his hands on your hips and squeezed, almost like he was making sure this was real.

“Well, you better believe it honey, because I am so so into it.. please tell me more.” You lean up and press wet kisses along his neck.

“God damn.” He throws his head to the side more, granting you further access to his throat. “When I had a second pair I sucked on the newer ones and used that same pair to jerk off. Then when I got your perfume I sprayed it on my pillow so that I could smell you and taste you.”

“Mmm Eddie, that’s so hot.” You bite into his throat causing him to let out the cutest little yelp, sucking the skin into your mouth, wanting to mark him as your own.

“Then once I had the bikini photo I was able to see you too, so it was like I was surrounded by you in every way possible.”

His hands snake down your hips to grab onto your ass, the material of your shorts and the feeling of your soft skin contrasting with the calluses on his fingers.

“That day when I found that picture of your tits… and then you somehow found a way to make putting socks on one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen and you topped it off by bending over in those little shorts with your ass practically in my face? I barely made it out of your building before I pulled over and jerked off in my van like a depraved psycho.”

You moaned at that, pulling back from his neck to look him in the eyes.

“If you’re depraved… so am I.” You pull your tank top over your head and throw it on the ground behind you somewhere, followed by your shorts. Eddie seriously thinks he’s in love with you at this point because you’re not wearing a bra or panties but you are of course wearing white thigh highs. You’re standing there like every fantasy he’s ever had about you come true, but better.

“Angel, those pictures have nothing on the real thing” He grabbed onto your tits, twisting your nipples between his fingers. Using his nose to brush your hair away so he can whisper in your ear. “I need to taste you so bad, like, so bad. I need to know what the real thing tastes like.”

“Mmm fuck, yes, want that so bad.”

You lay back on your bed and spread your legs, showing him how wet you are for him. Eddie doesn’t think twice before dropping to his knees in front of your bed and throwing your legs over his shoulders. He wishes he had it in him to kiss every inch of you before tasting you but it was like someone offered him the nectar of the gods and he needed it now.

He parted your lips with his fingers before running his tongue along your slit, licking up and down with a flat tongue before shoving it as far as it could go inside you.

“Ho- holy shit! Eddie!! Fuck, your mouth is so good.” Your fingers found his hair again, tugging and the groan he lets out sends vibrations through your pussy.

“I thought your panties tasted sweet but nothing will ever taste sweeter than the real thing, oh my god baby.”

His tongue comes up to circle your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. You feel his fingers circle your entrance before he’s inserting his pointer and middle finger deep inside you. He curls his fingers in just the right way, he’s still sucking your clit while he runs circles around it with his tongue and you feel yourself getting close.

“I’m gonna - I’m gonna - fuckinnng cum - I’m gonna cum.” You pull his hair again and start rocking your hips against his face. You watch his eyes roll back and feel him moan into you again, knowing he’s enjoying this as much as you is what sends you over the edge. Your hips rising off the bed and your hands falling from his hair to grasp the sheets. Eddie brings his free hand down on your abdomen to hold you down as he fucks you through your high.

You try to push him off once it becomes too much but you hear, or more so feel him let out an “Uh-Uh” into your pussy. His hand that’s pinning you down doesn’t move and his fingers stay buried inside you. He’s licking and sucking on your clit like a man starved and you immediately feel another orgasm crash over you. Your entire body shakes and you let out noises you didn’t even know you can make.

When he feels you push at his head this time he lets you, looking up at you with a grin on his face, his chin and mouth covered in your juices.

“Sorry… you just tasted so good and when you came it was so hot I didn’t want to stop.” He looked awfully bashful for someone who was just eating you out like it was his fucking job.

“You’re sorry? Holy shit Eddie, I’ve never cum that hard in my entire life.”

He smiled triumphantly, you’d think just told him he won the lottery. He came up and covered his body with yours, kissing you without wiping his face. The taste of you on his tongue was intoxicating so you pulled away from the kiss and licked his lips, then his chin, and down his neck.

“Fuck, we taste so good together.” You moan.

“Holy fucking shit, you’re my dream girl.”

“Let me return the favor, I wanna taste you too, also you are wearing way too many clothes right now.” You pull at the hem of his shirt and he puts his arm behind his head to pull it off.

You’ve never seen him shirtless before and you needed a better view. You push on his shoulders until he lifts himself off of you and lays back on the bed. You throw your leg over him to straddle him, looking down at him in awe.

“Wow Eddie… you’re beautiful.”

You smile at him with that devilish little smile he’s becoming addicted to as you run your soft hands along his chest before raking your nails down his torso, all the way to the waistband of his jeans. His back arches off the bed as he lets out this sound that you want to hear him make over and over again.

You grind your hips down on his, fiddling with his belt loop and looking at him with a question in your eyes.

“Please.” Now he’s the one giving you the look and you understand why he loves it much. Those big brown eyes are wide and glassy, there’s a slight pout on his lips and even though he just ate you out so good it makes you want to sit on his face.

But there’s something you want more, something you’ve been dreaming about. So you undo his belt and jeans with deft fingers, pulling on the waistband of both his pants and boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down and when his cock pops out and hits his stomach your jaw actually drops.

You always figured Eddie was big. You caught small glimpses through his jeans when he thought he was hiding his boners better than he really was, so you had an idea. But it’s bigger than you imagined, and so so pretty. The tip red and leaking precum, each vein prominent because of how hard he was. You lick your lips and spit on your hand, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it a few times. He makes that sound again and you know you’re addicted to it now.

“Your cock is huge baby, I can’t wait to feel it stretching me out.” You spit on the head of his cock, circling your thumb around it before you lean down and take it in your mouth.

“Holy - fuckING - sh - shit!” Eddie instinctually jerks forward, his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag.

He’s about to apologize but you don’t pull off, just push his cock further down your throat until your nose is snug against the hair at the base. There’s tears coming out of the sides of your eyes and drool dripping down your chin but you’re moaning and so he can tell you’re enjoying it. You circle your tongue around his shaft a few times before pulling off.

Not for long though, you take him as far as you can without gagging and start bobbing your head up and down, your hand moving in time with whatever your mouth can't reach. Eddie is a moaning mess, he’s babbling your name in between curse words, switching between grabbing onto your hair, the sheets, and his own hair.

When you pull off his dick and bring your mouth to his balls, swirling your tongue all around his sack before sucking one into your mouth he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you. But he’s also positive that he wants to fuck you so he grabs you by your hair and pulls you off.

“Hey, I wasn’t done!” You look at him with a pout and you whine. Every time Eddie thinks he can’t possibly be anymore obsessed with you, you prove him wrong.

“Yeah but I was about to come and I want to fuck you so badly.” He’s the one whining now.

“Can I ride you?” You ask him like that’s even a question.

“Fuck yeah you can.”

You eagerly climb back up to straddle him, wasting no time lining him up with your entrance and sliding down on his cock. It’s still a stretch but you’re so wet it hardly hurts. You rock back and forth a few times once your hips are flush against yours and you moan in unison at the feeling.

“Oh sh- shit, your pussy is so fucking t- tight. Feels better than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“Yeah? Your cock is so fucking big, filling me up so good Eds.”

You start riding him hard and fast, your ass bouncing against his thighs, your tits on full display and you’re moaning his name over and over again like a prayer. He has one hand on your ass, grabbing it so hard you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise there tomorrow, and you honestly hope you do. He brings the thumb of his free hand up to your bottom lip and runs it across it.

“Suck.”

You do, happily, swirling your tongue around the digit and moaning at the feeling of having something in your mouth while your pussy is being filled too. He pulls it out and you’re about to mourn the loss but then he’s rubbing circles on your clit and fucking up into you to meet your thrusts.

He starts fucking you so fast that you can’t keep up, you put your hands on his chest, your nails digging into his flesh and just let him take you. He’s fucking you hard and fast, his cock hitting just the right spot while he continues to circle your clit.

“Eddie I’m c - close I-I’m close.” Your babbling and drooling, fucked out and on the brink of what you know is going to be a mind altering orgasm.

“Me too Angel, I need you to cum for me. Cum all over my cock just like you dreamed about when you were humping your little pillow.” His feet are flat on the mattress and he’s somehow fucking you harder than he was before. When you cum your vision goes white, pleasure jolts through your entire system and you aren’t even sure you’re on this planet anymore.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum, where do you?”

Eddie talking brings you back to earth just enough to respond, to tell him what you want.

“Inside! Eddie please inside! I want you to cum inside me so bad!” You start to meet his thrusts, he’s still rubbing your clit and you’re so sensitive you already feel another orgasm coming on.

“Oh fuck!!!” Eddie cries out as his thrusts slow down to pumps and his cum spills inside you. The feeling sends you over the edge, cumming right along with him. Your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth.

When you come down you let yourself fall onto his chest, both of you panting, your hearts pounding. You lay like that for a while, catching your breath and enjoying the feeling of each other. Eventually your knees start to cramp and you slide off of him, settling at his side with your head on his chest.

“I’m gonna fuckin marry you someday.”

You laugh, even though he doesn’t sound like he’s joking.

“Yeah? I think I’d like that. Then my underwear will stop going missing because we will live in the same house.”

You both started cracking up at that.

“I’m serious though, can I have some of them back? You really did steal all my best ones…” You looked up at him and pouted, giving him the look.

“That’s not gonna work the same now that I know you’re just using it against me…”

“You sure about that?” You stick your bottom lip out further and make your eyes even wider.

“Ugh, no. You’re still not getting them back though, I’ll buy you new ones.” He brings his hand up to push your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your temple.

“Why? So you can just take those ones too?” You tease.

“Nah, I have the real thing now. I’d rather take them off you.”

Tagging the bbs: @the-unforgivenn @lokis-army-77 @gravedigginbbydoll @bettyfrommars @eddiemunson95 @melodymunson @bangaveragewhitewine

[lesspopped]

since I’ve spoken to a few different people who were disappointed by the outcome of the elections, especially people who haven’t voted in many elections previously, and so were surprised to hear this: y’all, this election actually went shockingly well for the democratic party. as a rule, the sitting president’s party does not do well in midterms, especially the first midterm after that president is elected. this is the best a sitting president’s party has done in the midterm in twenty years. the last time it went this well for the sitting president’s party was 2002, when the republicans were still riding the post-9/11 jingoism wave. in the first midterm after obama was elected, the democratic party lost 63 house seats; last I checked the nyt's final projection for them to lose this time was somewhere in the neighborhood of 12.

yes, it sucks that we’re likely losing the house and it sucks that the senate is still up in the air and it super sucks that the democrats have basically given up on bothering to campaign in florida. but losing the house was always likely and we have not lost it by nearly as much as we were predicted to, and honestly, without a filibuster-proof majority, even having both chambers of congress isn’t a guarantee of being able to get much done there. there are definitely disappointments, but this is nowhere near a disaster. ultimately, from what I can tell, there are a lot more republicans disappointed by this election than democrats, because this was supposed to be a massive blowout for the republicans and it very much has not been. like, at all. 

again I am not saying there are not things to be disappointed by, and it sucks immeasurably that we have to take “this didn’t go as badly as it could have” as a victory, but also, it really, really is a victory. at the very least, it’s not a flat-out defeat, and there are a lot of reasons not to feel despair. the smaller, state-level victories are not as flashy and dramatic as the higher-profile ones like the house or senate, but they’re extremely important, and will make a huge difference in a lot of people’s lives — in many cases a greater difference, day-to-day, than the senate or house elections will make. it’s really important not to lose sight of these wins.

(personally, what was really keeping me up at night was a) abortion referendums and b) the number of 2020 election deniers who were running for state- or local-level seats that would have put them in the position of being in charge of election administration in 2024 and beyond, making it much easier for them to rig future elections. well, republicans have pretty soundly gotten their asses handed to them on both counts, which is fan-fucking-tastic. like I said, these are not necessarily the things that get a lot of attention on the national level, but they’re so, so important and will make a big difference for a lot of people in the coming years.)

[lqveharrington]

Holidays | C.S.

summary: your first holiday/christmas outside of the districts

pairing: politician!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: mainly fluff, reader is from district 12 (this is very important in this one-shot), coriolanus is manipulative in this (not a lot, but still), angst if you squint.

a/n: happy holidays 🎄

Despite living in the Capitol, your spirits were up when the holidays came around. Those living at the Capitol had many decorations up and participated in festivities that would certainly get those in the districts in trouble.

As the chosen wife of — the sudden rise to power and wealth — Coriolanus Snow, you were also put into the impression that you were to make this holiday season the best for you and your husband.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Coriolanus told you that he was to work late, strategizing to help his campaign as he was running for president next year. Of course, you were used to this and gave him a kiss bye as you started your day with the festivities that you used to do back in your home.

By the time Coriolanus came home, it was late and he assumed you were sleeping already. What he did not know was that you were still in the kitchen baking cookies and decorating gingerbread house while playing music from your record collection.

“Why are you still up so late?” Coriolanus wrapped his arms around your hips, resting his head on your shoulder.

You grin at his presence, shifting to meet his eyes. “I wanted to surprise you with cookies and a pretty gingerbread house.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” He kisses your cheek.

“I would like to think so.” You pop a gum drop into your mouth, taking one of your earlier cookies you made from the counter. “Want some?”

He hummed, opening his mouth. You broke a piece off and gave it to him, waiting for a reaction of some sort.

“Well?”

“It’s delicious.” He swallowed, reaching for the rest of the cookie in your hand. “I think I should take them all.”

You let out an airy laugh, handing him the baked good. “I think you should help me decorate this house so we can go to bed. I’m sure you’re tired, Coryo.”

———

“What are you doing now?” Coriolanus asked you as he got out of the bathroom, hair still wet. He brought the a towel to his head, watching you stand outside on the balcony. “My love, you’re going to catch a cold staying out there.”

“I know…” You mess with your silk robe, rubbing the sleeve with your thumb. “Just give me a few more seconds. I want to check off the last thing I used to do back in 12 for Christmas Eve.”

He refrained from scoffing at the mention of District 12, slipping one arm around your waist. “You don’t remember how bad it was back there before I saved you? Why do things that bring back memories of those days being treated like a peasant?”

You stayed quiet, listening to his words intently.

“I believe you should be grateful you aren’t spending time in the freezing weather and instead participate in the fun activities in the Capitol. Where you belong.” He pecked your cheek. “Unless you want to go back… Then that can easily be arranged.”

“No, don’t.” You frown, looking up at the shining moon. “I love it here. A lot. And, I’m really grateful for it, really.”

“Good answer.” He runs his hand up to your chin, tilting it so you would face him. “Just this one thing and then come to bed, okay?”

You nod, pecking his lips. “Thank you… Love you.”

Coriolanus smiles at you, pressing one last tentative kiss to your lips and leaving for the bed, not bothering to take the time to understand what you were doing.

Leaning against the cement railings, your focus moves back to the bright moon, smiling sadly at it.

“I promise I’ll be back and see you again…” You whisper into the crisp, night air, the wind lightly blowing at your skin. “We’ll be okay. Just watch over mom for me. I’ll see you both again.”

You check your watch for the time, the second hand hitting the twelve. “From your somewhat cool older sister: Merry Christmas, Dante Everdeen.”

read more about coriolanus snow here !!

a/n pt2: MING BLOWING 🤯 she’s related to katniss, isn’t that silly :)

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[onlyangel4]

Ooo what about Got Me Started by Troye sivan with Charles??

got me started. cl16. writen + smau.

charles leclerc x model!reader

you thought attending the eras tour would be the most exciting part of the night. you never imagined you would meet the man of your dreams while there

author's note: guys this might be one of my favourite things i have ever written.

warnings: cursing.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: hanging with bestie begging her to tell me what surprise songs she is gonna play tonight

y/ninsta

liked by taylorswift, maisiepeters, sabrinacarpenter and 1,002,283

y/ninsta: gold rush

view all 14,852 comments

taylorswift: is this your hundredth attempt to convince me to play gold rush tonight

y/ninsta: yes, yes it is

user1: y/n is so real for the gold rush love

user2: come on taylor listen to your friend

sabrinacarpenter: pretty girl

y/ninsta: means a lot coming from the prettiest girl

celebsaterastour posted two stories

story one written: model y/n y/ln arriving to the stadium in milan in her gold rush inspired outfit

story two written: f1 driver charles leclerc spotted in the vip tent ahead of paramore's opening set

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

"just follow me down here y/n", a security guard spoke trying to navigate you through the see of fans that swarmed you as soon as you got into the stadium. security had been awaiting your arrival but your driver had accidentally dropped you off at the general admission entrance and that meant the second fans saw you leaving your car you were swarmed by fans, they had good intentions but they also made it so you could not get to where you needed to go. so in a panic you had called over one of the stadium security guards and he managed to get through to taylor's security, the people that had been waiting for you to arrive. it was all a little bit of a mess but the big burly man in front of you effortlessly made the crowd part allowing you down onto the floor of the stadium. "taylor made a note to put you in the left vip tent, she said there ws someone there that she wanted you to meet", he spoke and you quirked an eyebrow. what was your best friend planning?. you just nodded your head with a smile and soon enough you were there in the tent, protected from the fans.

"thank god for that", you spoke as you picked up a bottle of water that had been set on the side. "are you alright?", a masculine voice spoke from your side and you looked up to be met with a man that you had never met before but you gave him a smile, "i'm okay there was a little bit of a mix up when getting into the stadium, so fans came running, for a moment there i thought i was going to get trampled", you ranted to this stranger before shaking your head, "sorry you probably don't want to listen to me yap on"

"on the contrary i quite like a yapper", he spoke and you laughed, finding this man's charm rather endearing. "i'm charles by the way", he introduced himself, "i'm y/n"

"so y/n what are you doing in milan? you don't sound like you are from around here"

"very perceptive", you teased, "i'm a model i kind of live whereever the jobs are but i have been working on a promotional campaign here. taylor is a very close friend of mine and i was gutted that i was not in the states when she was there so she arranged for me to come here", you explained and he listened, that was nice.

"i understand, i'm an f1 driver so i am all over the place most of the time, i usually miss out on big events like this and end up with fomo so i felt lucky that this show is on my week off", he spoke.

"well i hope you enjoy the show, taylor is an insane performer, she doesn't half know how to put on a show"

and with that the eras tour intro began to play signifying that your best friend was about to come on stage, you cheered for her, showing the man next to you that you truly were taylor's number one fan. the first few songs of the set flew by with you smiling from ear to ear the entire time. when lover began to play your body began to sway side to side in time with the music and charles found his body doing the same next to yours. charles would not call himself a massive taylor swift fan but he had heard that she put on a brilliant show and that was why he had arranged to attend the concert. but right now stealing glances at your happy swaying form next to him made him very grateful that he had come to the concert.

during the fearless section of the show the endorphins got to your brain and any ounce of shyness left your body so you turned to charles and began singing the lyrics with him bouncing a little on your heels just having the best time. charles even took your hands during love story just having the most fun ever. your happiness truly was infectious, he did not care that their were thoursands of people with cell phones surrounding the pair of you. honestly he hoped some of them were filming so he could have videos of this night forever.

as the concert went through you spent time just dancing and singing with charles but when taylor started singing delicate, it became apparent that there was tension their between you both, charles had moved to stand behind you and you leant you body back against his, your head resting against his stong chest, "is this okay?", he asked as his hands moved torest around your waist

"yes", you exhaled softly, you were still singing the songs but you definetly got a few lyrics wrong thanks to the intoxicating presence of the man behind you. if you were paying attention you would have noticed the way taylor seemed to be singing directly in the direction of the vip tent that you were in, her blue eyes watching you and charles a smug grin on her lips. but you did not notice that you were too busy trying to not get caught up in this moment you were sharing with a stranger.

when delicate finished charles moved back to your side rather than beside you, you grabbed a few drinks from the cooler that was in the vip tent asking if you wnated anything and you accepted one of the canned cocktails that you had asked taylor to get you and charles had a beer.

you and charles remained close for the rest of the show, gentle touches between both of you, charles gently moving your hair out of your face or resting an arm around your shoulders. it was nice, yes you knew nothing about this man but it just felt right.

when taylor got to the surprise song section of the concert you turned to charles, "I am going to kill her if she doesn't play my song" and that made charles laugh

"what is your song?", he asked

"oh you will know if she plays it"

and he knew straight away as taylor began to introduce the song.

"so many of you know that i do take requests for the surprise song section and well there is one person here who has gone above and beyond to request this song. this past week she has text me every single day about this one song. she even wore an outfit inspired by this song. safe to say this y/n y/ln's favourite song", taylor spoke and the fans that knew you cheered knowing exactly what taylor was about to sing and you were beaming, you pulled your phone out to film it but charles turned to you, "you enjoy this, i will film it", he spoke and and you handed him your phone. he filmed the song even getting some footage of you singing your heart out. once the song was done you smiled taking your phone back from charles kissing his cheek thank you.

as taylor finished singing karma you turned to charles, "are you going to the after party?", you questioned.

"i haven't been told about an after party", he spoke, obviously not wanting to leave your side but not wanting to go to a party that he had not been invited to.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

erastourupdates posted a story

written: charles leclerc and y/n y/ln were photographed arriving at a club in milan where taylor is holding her post show after party

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

once inside of the club your eyes found taylor quickly, she was stood with travis smiling ear to ear at the sight of you and charles holding hands. you ran over to her pulling her into a hug, "you are insane", you laughed softly. charles had left you alone and headed to the bar to grab you both drinks.

"he is something else", you confided in your best friend, "we just have this chemistry, i can't even describe it"

"i watched you two during gold rush, he looked at you like a man stunned", taylor spoke and you blushed softly.

"i know i told you not to meddle in my love life but you cooked here", you spoke making her laugh out loud just as charles got to your side, "i thought you might like this, it is like those cans you were drinking earlier"

"thank you charles", you spoke taking it from him taking a sip, "shit this is good", you smiled. taylor then took travis' hand and pulled him onto the dance floor and charles gave you a questioning look making you giggle, "is this you asking me to dance". he didn't answer instead he took your free hand and pulled you onto the dancefloor finding a space in between all the moving bodies. you both still had drinks inyour hands but you made it work, your body effortlessly moving against his in time with the music playing on the speakers. charles finished his beer and set the cup down and you did the same with yours. this allowed you both to get as close to each other as you wanted.

charles rested his hands on your hips his eyes looking down at you, "pretty girl", he whispered softly and your eyes looked up at him, "can i kiss you?", he questioned and you wordlessly nodded. his lips moved down to meet yours in a sensual kiss and the rest of the room melted away around you. his hand travelled down to the small of your back pulling you against him.

"fuck", you whispered once you pulled away making him chuckle.

"y/n i think we should get out of here"

"you are not getting lucky on the first night" you warned playfully

"i know but i want to actually get to know you, i want to actually spend time with you and i don't think we can do that in this club, let me take you back to my hotel room, no funny business"

charles kept to his promise. you guys went straight back to his hotel and you just spoke for hours before falling asleep cuddled up to one another. and that is what started a relationship with the love of your life.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

y/ninsta

liked by taylorswift, charlesleclerc, iamrebeccad and 1,248,734

tagged: charlesleclerc

y/ninsta: tbt to the very first night

view all 56,873 comments

user3: i still can't believe taylor swift is the one that introduced charles and y/n

charlesleclerc: the best night of my life

y/ninsta: i love you so much

taylorswift: i knew you guys would get on, i didn't know you would get on this week

y/ninsta: well it has been six months and he isn't sick of me yet so you did pretty well

iamrebeccad: i am so grateful for miss swift because she is the reason i met you

y/ninsta: aw i love you becca

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

TAGLIST SIGN UP SHEET

taglist: @formulaal @formulaonebuff @danielshoe @noooway555 @dilflover44

@peterholland04

@sunshinedaisy21

@nikfigueiredo

@fall-bambi

@mel164

@lando-505

@charllleclerc

@paigem00

@heavy-vettel

@pseudoyo

@simple-soul-searcher

@lyannesworld

@wordesthatics

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@sltwins

@aquamariene-me

@justarandomfamdomblog

@janeh22

@kol67-t

@gr3yhues

@luckyladycreator2

@nichmeddar

@multi-fandom5

@whatthefl1p

@stradlingmrstradlin

@notpeachybby

@kikiki04

@marknolee

@asparklysoul

@sleutherclaw

@stinging--nettle

@holybatflapexpert

@gothicwidowsworld

@pear-1206

@scorpiodiosa

@charlesgirl16

[ghostlyfleur]

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬, 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

eddie munson x new girl

contents: new girl referred to as angel, lovesick!eddie, strangers to friends to lovers, hellfire club, dustin henderson cameo, mutual pining, inexperienced!reader, shy!reader, maybe fairy!reader but i’m not sure yet.

word count: ~1k

summary: eddie lets his love consume him, and he’s okay with it.

eddie munson is down bad. in love. completely enamored. shot by cupid. and she’s beautiful. the fairest maiden in all the land.

she’s all flowery dresses, flowy skirts, cozy sweaters, butterfly clips in her hair, fairy wing eyeliner design and shimmery glitter on her eyelids, sparkly pink lipgloss, highlighter on her cheekbones— the prettiest angel he’s ever seen. absolutely ethereal. the thing is, she’s terribly clueless. oblivious, even. her and eddie have built a lovely friendship over the last few months, ever since he met her when he picked dustin up from the library. that’s when it happened. that’s when he got hit. an arrow straight through his heart.

his angel — because she must be an angel, with the way the sun followed her around and made her shimmer — was aiding dustin with his search, trying to find books on supernatural lore that he could take inspiration from for the campaign he was putting together. it was dustin’s first campaign in his hellfire club career, and he was taking it very seriously to eddie’s amazement and amusement. but whatever thoughts about dungeons and dragons that were swirling around his head cleared completely at the sight of her; in her white sandals, knee-length white silky skirt, and alice in wonderland graphic tank top she was a sight to behold. a mirage. a dream. sunny disposition, bright smile, fidgety hands, and the most enchanting voice— a siren call, really. and eddie was hooked. it didn’t help that dustin talked his ear off about the nice girl that was quick to provide him with an immense list of folklore and magic lore books that could help him, about fairytales and whimsical creatures.

“she talked about fairies as if she were one, dude, it was sick!” dustin gushed.

eddie noticed the kid kept going back to the same library, kept entering his van afterwards with a list of books and another cute tale revolving around the pretty angel girl of eddie’s dreams. until one day dustin looked all nervous and coy and a little scared, and yeah, usually eddie loved to invoke that same reaction from him, but this time he didn’t know the reason behind it, behind the kid’s hesitant gaze. and truly it couldn’t have been a better reason. dustin wanted the mystery angel to be able to attend hellfire, to watch his campaign.

“‘s the least i can do, man! she helped me with a lot of it and she was like- super interested in my shirt and stuff, please?” eddie’s quick reply, the resounding ‘yes’ he couldn’t hold back, caught dustin by surprise but he didn’t question it. don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that, right?

angel showed up in a long skirt with a flower pattern, converse shoes, and a black queen shirt tucked in. braided hair, lipgloss, and a tupperware box filled with chocolate chip cookies for the whole club.

“my thanks for letting me crash your campaign.”

eddie was hooked. once the session was done and the boys were gone, thanking her profusely for the treats after they picked her brain for cryptid lore, she stayed behind to help eddie tidy up, and they talked about music. she was shy, incredibly so, soft spoken and giggly and socially awkward, but she laughed at eddie’s jokes and playfully teased him once or twice, and complimented his bats tattoo, so eddie offered her a ride home. she gracefully declined, claiming she drove herself, so he walked her to her car instead.

plans were made so that she attended each of dustin’s campaign sessions and through those sessions, the clean up afterwards, the talks about music and bands and movies, their time together evolved to going for milkshake afterwards, a coffee shop for some hot chocolate sometimes, and a friendship blossomed. a very strong one at that.

being alone, living alone, existing alone was kind of her thing— she preferred to be by herself, to indulge in her hobbies on her own, because she was anxious. extremely anxious. but apparently not at all reserved about it or ashamed of talking about it, which was proven by the fact that she casually let it slip pass her lips that she had an anxiety disorder the very first time she was alone with eddie after hellfire.

not a single sign of shame or guilt in admitting it, and eddie admired that.

admired that she was a loner even though she was so polite and kind, ready to send anyone she walked past a smile because she knew how much it mattered to those who needed a little kindness. a quiet soul but couldn’t shut up if you cared enough to figure out her interests, she laughed at everything, giggled without reason sometimes, talked to herself a lot, was often lost in daydreams, had a dark sense of humor surprisingly. complex but friendly. eddie couldn’t get enough, always wanting to find out more about her, to talk to her more, to understand her more.

but most importantly, in her opinion, eddie allowed her to be herself without any judgment. encouraged her even. and that was priceless. so yes, a strong friendship bloomed, but neither one of them wanted to stop at just that. the dark haired boy was quickly aware of his growing feelings, his attraction, his infatuation that turned to love, while his angel didn’t clock in on her emotions quite so fast, being entirely inexperienced and lacking any previous romantic validation. her anxiety and introverted tendencies played a part in that too, probably.

but that’s alright, eddie is more than okay with waiting for her to catch up.

♡

── harmo’s footnotes:

i love thinking about our sweet eddie falling for a soft girl. he deserves a cozy, comfy, cute love story! please remember to show your support by reblogging!

masterlist. eddie dreams.

ghostlyfleur © — all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, or translate.

[jo-harrington]

Disaster Preparedness (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Maybe it's time to put a name to whatever it is you and Eddie are...but not without some misunderstandings first.

Previous Part: Peak Sales Hours

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Angst, Jealousy, Fluff, and a series of unfortunate misunderstandings with a sweet ending.

Note: A day late, but what can you do. This was sort of always a pre-planned part of the Store Manager Verse (and actually set at Christmas Time at StarCourt) but a very special prompt made me switch it up. So without further ado @allthingsjoeq and @bettyfrommars please consider this collection of Holiday shenanigans inspired by I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus my take on Prompt 14 from your Holiday Prompt Party:

You can tell that the mall Santa is a babe under that beard, and you decide to get closer to investigate.

With a little twist...

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

The holiday season wasn't Eddie's favorite, per se.

Just like Thanksgiving, it was a time to make do. Couldn't really celebrate when you were reminded of the things you'd lost or didn't have in the first place.

Still it had its high points. Cookies were great, having a little extra cash between Wayne's holiday pay and bonus and the handful of parties he'd be able to deal at, and let it be known that...Eddie Munson was a sucker for snow and always wished for a White Christmas.

And for his friends? Eddie would always muster up the Holiday Spirit and Christmas Cheer. A special one-off campaign for Hellfire, a potluck dinner with Corroded Coffin, and handmade gifts that he spent way too much time on.

This year...working at StarCourt brought its own spin on Holiday cheer and it was a little annoying.

If he hadn't worked the closing shift on the 30th, and seen all of the overnight workers and maintenance vehicles that rolled out of the service corridors as he walked out, Eddie would have thought that it was magic that transformed StarCourt Mall into a true Winter Wonderland come December 1st.

Because it was night and day.

Lights were strung around every store entrance, wreaths and garland hung every 50 feet from the ceiling, soap snow fell down from special blowers in the vents onto the food court, and the space in front of Montgomery Ward suddenly contained a special gift-wrapping destination.

And suddenly the mall muzak had a festive flair to it.

It was honestly kind of sickening.

He wasn't a scrooge or anything, it was just overwhelming and appeared all at once. And after how overwhelming Black Friday had been, how was anyone supposed to cope with the bright lights, large crowds, and repetitive music? He intentionally started turning the shop radio to a higher volume to drown out the bells jingling and carols mingling for the next few shifts after the decorations appeared.

"It's Holidazzle," you told him as he leaned against the entryway to your store--"the conversion Eddie, for God's sake!"--and watched you hang a special banner in the window, featuring the Gift of Piercing and cartoon bears ice skating around a tree.

"It's overkill," he argued.

"It's Mall Life." You climbed down from your ladder and surveyed your work with a critical eye. "You get used to the big everything that is Christmas and just deal with it, and then, come January, it all dies. We're decorating today, and next week we start wearing reindeer antlers on the sales floor. It just is what it is. Gotta get the customers into the festive spirit so they buy more before it all tapers out.

"Surprised Kyle isn't already wearing like...a Santa hat and a cheesy sweater with ornaments hanging off it or something."

And Eddie wasn't sure if you were somehow clairvoyant or just knew his boss well enough, but that's exactly what Kyle wore to his next shift and, indeed, every shift for the remainder of December.

Santa hats in every color--and he'd bought hats for everyone else in the store--and if there wasn't a Santa hat, there was tinsel in his hair. A piece of glittery garland strung around his neck and a mug full of cocoa constantly present in his hand, even when he was on the sales floor. And, somehow, a different cheesy holiday sweater on every single shift he had.

Where did he even get them?

"Listen," he clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder and shoved a candy cane in his hand. "I know you're Mr. Non-Conformity, but in this instance, you just gotta go with the flow. No one wants to give their money to the Grinch. But Jolly Old Saint Kyle? He's who they're trusting for their Christmas Gifts. You catch me?"

---

So Eddie tried.

He did. He tried.

For all of 3 days.

He wore the hat, he played the game, he did his spiel about gift certificates and BOGO, and he didn't even get a treat at the end of his shifts because you worked the opposite schedule from him. With school and all it was hard...

He just wanted to kiss you. Was that too much to ask for? It wouldn't be the most romantic place but he figured that he could set out some mistletoe by the baler and trick you into a festive smooch when you took the cardboard out. He could do that now, except he couldn't.

...but Wednesday night you'd both be closing. You'd swapped shifts with Mindy two weeks in a row so you could go to his show last week and she could go to her kids' Christmas Recital at the elementary school this week.

He definitely planned to make his move and get his reward. And give you a little reward of your own, seeing how hard you'd been working too. He wondered if this might be the chance to officially ask you to be his girl. Everyone had already made the assumption the two of you had been dating for months...why not put a name to it? And then he could take you out on a real date.

What could possibly go wrong?

Famous last words.

With a few minutes until his fifteen, anticipation building...Mike and Dustin ran into Tape World, looking out of breath and nervous.

Eddie was finishing up a special order for a customer when he saw them out of the corner of his eye. Little assholes, lurking by the door. Mitch had tried to walk up to them and give them the spiel but they waved him off.

"We're here for Eddie."

Great. This better not be about one of them missing Hellfire on Friday.

"What do you want?" he huffed, trying to be a little patient with them since it was the holidays after all. He picked on them enough at school. "It’s busy tonight."

"Well," Dustin shifted. "We were coming to see the new Ewoks movie--" Eddie snorted and grinned at them fondly. "--and we were just killing some time, when we passed by Mom's store."

Eddie couldn't help the bark of laughter he let out with that one. He told the guys to cut it out, this...continuation of calling you Mom since Halloween.

"You guys gotta stop calling her that," he scoffed. "Steve Harrington's your Mom. Get that straight."

"Well then Mom is upstairs right now flirting with not Mom," Mike sassed, hands on his hips.

Now that gave Eddie pause. Harrington? Upstairs with you?

Flirting?

“Kissing.”

Kissing?!

"What?" Eddie's voice broke a little as he reacted. He chuckled to try and alleviate some of his own nerves. "Isn't Harrington dating someone? Pretty sure I've seen him running around with that cashier from KB Toys."

"Well it was Wicks'n'Sticks."

"But we think they broke up!" Mike piped up. "Because Steve quit Scoops last week."

"Which means we need to pay full price for movie tickets again," Dustin nodded.

"But Nancy said that Robin told her…that he got a job at Santa's Workshop," Mike thumbed over his shoulder. "And we just saw Santa upstairs with Mom and she was wiping strawberry lipgloss out of his beard."

The first thought in Eddie’s head was that you didn’t wear strawberry lipgloss.

The next was that you didn’t wear strawberry lipgloss when you kissed him. What if you wore it for Steve?

No, that was ridiculous.

But unless Santa’s Workshop was operating as a functioning kissing booth and Harrington was looking for a quick and easy fix for a bunch of housewives smooching him after their kids asked for a new bike or Hot Wheels racetrack or Tina the Talking Tabby doll…there was no explanation.

Which, alright, Eddie wouldn’t normally consider himself a jealous person. An envious person. Yeah, he might have seen a little green at the edges of his vision when the kids fawned over Steve Harrington time and again, but ever since he was brought down a few pegs—humbled—he didn’t seem like the same old douchebag from Hawkins High that he used to be.

Eddie might even say Steve was kind of alright.

But you were his girlfriend…or something…

And the jealousy and possessiveness he often mocked others for over the years, as he watched meathead jocks tighten their arms around their girlfriends shoulders as he simply walked past, suddenly overcame him.

“Mitch I’m taking my fifteen!” He called towards the back of the store and strutted out of Tape World, all while Mike and Dustin called after him, fully intending to get to the bottom of this obvious misunderstanding.

---

He planned to ask you about Harrington the moment you opened the door to the loading dock, hauling the dolly of cardboard boxes behind you.

A simple "hey sweetheart, how was your day, anyone named Kris Kringle come to bother you?" and he would have had his answer and all of his doubt would have been alleviated once and for all.

Except that as soon as you appeared--with your disheveled hair and makeup, your slumped shoulders, and your groan of weariness--your eyes got brighter and you melted at the sight of him. So happy to see him, so relieved.

Then he melted.

"God, what a night," you groaned and let the dock door slam behind you. You abandoned your cardboard and walked right into his arms where he was standing by the baler; your arms wrapped around his waist and your face nuzzled into his flannel, just the way he constantly craved. "Some lady wanted an individual gift receipt for every single item she bought. Then Chrissy almost messed up this kid's piercing. Thank God I stopped her as soon as I saw."

"Oh yeah?"

"And then I swear I'm like...I just have one of those faces where everyone comes and complains to me as they're shopping. I have to hear about everyone's life story or their relationship issues, especially this one guy..."

Eddie's ears practically perked up at that.

"This one guy?" he urged you to continue, on the edge of his proverbial seat.

"I dunno," you sighed tiredly. "Not the first time he's come to me for advice. He's a nice guy and he means well, but it just seems I'm always the one. And I'm happy to help just...not during Q4, you know? He needs to figure out how to talk to his ex on his own. And not just...come in looking for extra glossy strawberry lip gloss thinking he's gonna kiss his way back into their good graces."

Extra glossy strawberry lip gloss.

Eddie wondered if he was pushing his luck if he were to ask if this nice guy was dressed in a Santa suit.

Still his heart soared nonetheless. He should have known that it was nothing to worry about, that those little shits just put two and two together to make five, and that mom wasn't actually kissing Santa Claus.

It was just a misunderstanding.

"How was your night?" you backed away from him slightly to look into his eyes. "I feel like I haven't seen you in days."

It was like a weight on his chest had been lifted, as he stared into your sparkling eyes.

"Same old, same old," he chuckled away the doubt. "Probably worse because no one knows what they want to give as gifts for Christmas and they're not listening to me."

"How dare they not take the advice of the great God of Music!" you feigned outrage.

"Gonna give me an inflated ego, sweetheart."

"You mean you don't already have one?" you teased.

Whatever fleeting bits of doubt remained disappeared as his fingers found your sides and he tickled you as punishment for the jab. Even more so as you grabbed his face and kissed him to get him to stop.

---

You'd spent the remainder of your break on Wednesday night softly kissing on the loading dock. You held hands as he walked you back to your store. Then once the mall was closed, you continued the kissing against the side of his van in the employee lot as the rest of the cars disappeared one by one.

With one last kiss goodbye, you agreed to Christmas movies and cocoa at his place on Sunday.

But as he sauntered into the mall on Sunday morning, twirling his lanyard on his finger as he headed to Tape World, Eddie swore that the universe was mocking him--

Or it was just that trademark Munson Bad Luck.

--because with a quick glance up towards your store, he saw you, holding the gate up with one arm, talking and laughing with someone conspicuously dressed in a Santa suit.

Well, he couldn't really see the holly jolly bastard that was up there making you smile, but just a quick glimpse of red velvet and white fur and all of his doubt was back.

The two of you still hadn't put a label on your relationship yet. He'd wondered the other night as he drove home if it was a little juvenile to want to call you his girlfriend. Was it too high school? What did a real life, grown up boyfriend do? He only had TV shows to go by and he figured you'd laugh if he tried to give you his '84 class ring that was stashed in his sock drawer. In fact, he was sure of it.

But how was he supposed to get past the visceral need to be your boyfriend when you were up there being wooed into potentially becoming the new Mrs. Claus yourself?

By Santa Harrington no less.

The doubt was back with a vengeance.

Kyle--decked in red onesie pajamas, butt flap and all--clocked his woes as soon as he walked into the store.

"Don't tell me she broke up with you," he guessed as he counted up the registers for the day. "I know it's not the end of the world, but you guys barely got started. What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Eddie answered honestly as he restocked the front display.

"Hmmm, actually come to think of it, that might be exactly the point."

"I don't think we were ever together, if I'm being honest."

"Dumbass," Kyle chuckled under his breath. Eddie, exasperated and just needing someone to commiserate with, explained the whole thing to his boss, who simply ate it up like a gossiping housewife and then laughed louder. "No seriously, you're a dumbass. This is the Mall at Christmas, dude. You're gonna start going cross eyed if you're looking around every corner for a suspicious Santa Claus flirting with your girl.

"Why don't you save yourself some heartache and just talk to her. You know, like you should have been doing this whole time? So, one time only because you're my buddy, I'm letting you take an extra break so you can go up there and talk to her."

And Eddie knew Kyle was right: it was all about communication.

Communication, or the lack thereof, was how the two of you had gotten this far, right? You'd known each other since May? June? And had only figured out that there was some mutual attraction in...what? September if Eddie was going to be honest with himself. Two weeks ago if he wasn't.

Lack of communication, caused by self doubt and fear, cost him...months...of getting to kiss you and hold your hand. And while he cherished the time spent being your friend, he was always gonna wish he had all that time being more.

So no, he shouldn't let it draw out much longer.

---

Unfortunately, he really was a dumbass.

So instead of taking advantage of it being so early in the day that there were practically no customers in the mall to go upstairs and clear things up with you and maybe ask you out on a real date...

Eddie booked it across the mall to Santa's Workshop.

There he stood, wasting his extra break in line with the handful of proactive parents coming in early to get their family pictures with the Big Man himself.

"What's on your wish list this year?" A little boy in a tiny navy suit tugged on the leg of his jeans and asked him.

"Uh..." He was at a loss when it came to kids and his hands wrung around his lanyard. But he couldn't just leave the little guy hanging. "A new amp...and maybe a Skeletor action figure."

The boy's eyes got wide and blabbered on about his desired Castle Greyskull while his mom ran a comb through his hair.

"Eddie?"

Eddie froze and his attention shifted from the kid, up and up green velvet clad legs then torso, to a familiar cherubic face and tousled curls covered by a pointy hat.

"Gareth?" he chuckled, staring incredulously at his friend dressed as one of Santa's Helpers. "...what is this? I didn't know you..." his eyes slid down to the little boy, then back to his friend. "...were an elf."

"I was trying to keep it under the radar," he shrugged and gestured down to his costume. "Especially since they have me dressed like this. Uh....anyway, why are you in line for Santa?"

"Uhh..." Eddie scratched the back of his neck then folded his arms across his chest. "Gotta get my wishlist in before all the good gifts are taken."

Gareth narrowed his eyes in suspicion and Eddie hoped that he would just chalk it up as another one of the million things he'd seen Eddie do over the years of their friendship.

"Can I keep the picture?" Gareth finally asked mischievously. "Or was Wayne planning on sending out a special card this year?"

"Nah man," Eddie nodded, grateful not to have to answer any more...invasive questions. "It's all yours."

"Nice." Gareth held his fist out for Eddie to bump and then let the family ahead of Eddie in to see Santa.

Which meant he was next.

Now, Eddie wasn't big on confrontation, so unless he was actively thwarting bullies and deterring them from picking on his friends, he wasn't the type to pick a fight. He also wasn't the type to have a calm and rational discussion and get to the bottom of a problem either.

So this was new territory for him.

What would he say?

What could he say?

"Now listen here Harrington," he muttered. "You...she...I..."

He ran a hand over his face and shook his head.

"I heard you're having some relationship issues," he tried again. "But you can't keep sniffing around my girl. My girl? Ugh...but what if she isn't."

There were a few flashes of a camera and by that time, Gareth was back to lead him to his execution.

"Alright, young man," he snickered. "Are you ready to meet Santa?"

"Shut up," Eddie shoved him and stalked along the carpet into the little photo area.

He was too preoccupied with the task at hand, too consumed with thoughts of you laughing with Steve Harrington and exactly what he was gonna say, that he didn't notice that it wasn't Steve under the beard and hat until he plopped himself directly on Santa's lap.

Santa groaned as Eddie settled himself and threw an arm over his shoulders.

"Aren't you a little too old for this Munson?" Santa deadpanned. "Or is this one of your little Hellfire pranks."

Eddie froze at the familiar voice, as years of hearing that grumbling gritty tone at Benny's and the police station and around town flashed through his memory.

"Hop?" he whispered in horror.

"Who were you expecting?" Hopper grunted.

"Why are you Santa?"

"...don't tell me you thought Santa Claus was real, kid?"

"No, I just--" Eddie stammered, looking for the right words. "I...Why?"

"I'm doing this to surprise Jane," he explained in exasperation. "Buddy of mine runs Santa's workshop and Joyce said she'd bring the kids to the mall today, maybe get a picture. So I pulled some strings. I don't know what to get her for Christmas; she's keeping her wish list under wraps."

It all started making sense for Eddie. Jane was friends with Dustin and the others so he'd seen her around Hawkins High, even though she wasn't interested in DnD. She was a good kid, if a little shy. Of course Hop was doing this for his adopted daughter, wanting to give her a perfect Christmas.

"But you...were up at Claire's earlier?" Eddie narrowed his eyes, the reason for him being there still eluding explanation.

"Because that's Jane's favorite store. I swear I'm single handedly keeping them in business with the number of earrings and scrunchies I buy every week. The manager promised she'd keep an eye out if Jane and Joyce popped in today, let me know everything Janie was looking at if this ended up being a bust."

Hopper shot Eddie a pointed glare and Eddie, correctly, looked ashamed of himself.

"Alright, less talking," the elf at the camera rolled their eyes and waved for Hop and Eddie to scoot closer. "More smiling. Say jingle!"

There was a flash and a polaroid was shoved into Eddie's hand as Hopper shooed him away.

---

"What is this?" you pulled away from Eddie's soft, warm lips as your hands felt something foreign in his back pocket.

The Year Without Santa Claus wasn't the most romantic Christmas movie, but Eddie was feeling a certain type of resentment when he had chosen the movies at Family Video, and it was mostly going ignored in favor of cuddling and kissing and sweet words.

Until your hands worked their way downward to pull Eddie's weight further into you, and you found--

"Did you go take a picture with Santa?" you giggled as you inspected the Polaroid. Eddie groaned and rested his head on your shoulder. "Can I keep this?"

"Believe it or not," he sighed, "Gareth already has dibs."

"May I ask why?"

"Because he likes to ruin my life. Pretty sure he's gonna take it to Fox Photos and get it made into t-shirts."

"No, why did you go take a picture with Santa silly," you shoved him. "It's really sweet."

He turned to look up into your eyes, to get the courage to just...tell you how silly he was being...to ask you out for fuck's sake...but the way you looked at him, the softness of your gaze, the way you reached out and pushed his bangs out of his eyes...he didn't want to ruin it all.

"I promised I was getting into the holiday spirit didn't I?" he shrugged pathetically. "Couldn't let the opportunity pass without getting photo evidence."

You stared fondly at the picture for another moment and then pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"It's perfect."

---

After Eddie had chickened out, you planned your get-togethers for the rest of December.

Or rather, the lack of them.

With finals coming up and the semester coming, and then mall hours getting later and later the closer to Christmas it got, the opportunities to hang out became sparse.

The best the two of you could unfortunately--or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it--come up with was Christmas Eve.

You'd fight off those final last-minute holiday shoppers, and come 6pm when the mall closed, you'd both be off to Benny's for the special pot roast dinner that he put up for anyone who didn't have family to go to, or didn't want to go see the family they had.

With Rick out making the rounds, and Wayne scheduled for that sweet time-and-a-half holiday double most years, Eddie usually ended up at Benny's anyway.

This year, with you, it would be perfect.

He just had to get through the next few weeks without a hiccup.

The universe, once again, decided to test him.

Mock him.

It was almost comedic at this point.

Santa was everywhere.

Of course, he would be, it was Christmastime but...everywhere in relation to you.

Thankfully, it wasn't Harrington he needed to worry about.

However, that meant it wasn't just Santa he needed to worry about.

It was all of the mall Santas.

Hop had shown his face in the red suit and beard once or twice more and scared the life out of him. Especially when Eddie walked smack into him on the way to drop an Orange Julius for you on the night you closed.

The church's community choir had spent one Saturday afternoon caroling by the Sears, all dressed as Santa Claus. As the two of you made your rounds window-shopping and chatting on your break, one of the Santas grabbed you and spun you around in a circle during a jazzy rendition of The 12 Days of Christmas where you, apparently, were the true love bestowing the many gifts.

How Eddie let a bunch of Santas serenade you before he got a chance to, he would never know. Nor would he let himself live it down.

And then one awful day, he found you sitting at your usual table in the food court with a charismatic older man in a Santa suit--sans hat or beard. The man sat in Eddie's usual seat and leaned quite close, making you look entirely uncomfortable; he couldn't help puff up his chest to ward off the intruder by the time he reached the table.

"This is Henry," you introduced as politely as you could. "He's gonna be the manager at the new Spencer's store when it opens in January."

"Figured I would do the neighborly thing and just say hi," he chuckled and looked down at his attire. "Oh? This? Figured that this would be a great way to do something nice for the community in the mean time."

"That's great," Eddie sniffed judgmentally, getting a weird feeling about this Henry. "Nice to meet you. You're in my spot though."

"Eddie!" Your eyes went wide and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter.

"Hey, nope, totally get it," Henry held his hands up and stood from the seat. "Those lunch breaks are short, especially when you want to spend them with friends and not a stranger like me. Nice to meet you guys. See you around."

Eddie dropped into his seat and you waited until Henry was well out of earshot to scold him.

"That was not nice."

"I'm not nice," Eddie grumbled. "He was looking at you weird, like he wanted to steal your soul or something. Did you not get creepy stalker murderer from him?"

"No, I totally did," you nodded. "He was like...dead behind the eyes. I know, that's awful to say. Anyway, are you feeling soft pretzels and cheese because I--"

"Are you a Santa magnet or something?" Eddie interrupted you and you looked like a deer in the headlights.

"What?" you giggled. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "Seems like they're just always around."

"It's Christmas, Eddie," you frowned in confusion. "Even I have a little Santa dress that I'm gonna wear to work. Everyone's just in the spirit."

"Yeah well..."

"I thought you were trying to get in the spirit too," you reminded him and then reached over and plucked at the fair isle sweater Kyle had gotten the whole TapeWorld team so they could match for a group picture. "Exhibit A, Mr. Grinch."

"I am trying," he whined. "It's just hard to be extra jolly when someone's always sniffing around your girl."

"Am I your girl?" you asked. You were obviously teasing him, but still...Eddie froze. "You haven't asked me if I want to be yet."

Everything inside of him was on red alert at that moment.

Evasive maneuvers? No, that was a bad idea. All power to the forward shields, which were holding but weakened. He didn't have enough firepower for this.

"No..." he replied awkwardly. "I haven't."

The way your expression dropped broke him, and he knew he had fucked up.

---

"I'm disowning you," Kyle shook his head in disappointment by the time Eddie got back from lunch. "In fact. We all are."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie groaned.

"Mitch! Paulie! Eddie's disowned."

"You can't fire him, he's closing tonight," Paulie argued.

"Not fired," Kyle pointed across the store with authority. "Disowned. And such a shame; Edward Tapeworldington, first of his name...you shall never be king."

Eddie stewed in the laughter of his coworkers.

"Why don't you ever listen to me?" Kyle threw an arm around his shoulder. "You could have asked her out right then and there. Been like 'hey you wanna be my girlfriend?' And it would have been like...the happiest day of your life. Hell, happiest day of my life. Cuz then I wouldn't have to hear you bitch about it all the time."

"Didn't know I complained that much," Eddie muttered self-consciously.

"All the time," one of the other guys chuckled.

"It's not complaining," Kyle corrected. "It's just that...we want you to be happy. As cliche as this sounds, we're like a family right? Hey, psst, all of you? Savor it, you're only gonna hear me say it once.

"If one of us is miserable, we're all miserable," he continued. "And you've been kind of a miserable piece of shit for a while, Ed. I'm sure your buddies would tell you the same thing. Lovesick puppy act's only gonna get you so much sympathy until you're the one getting in your own way."

Eddie felt his stomach turn because getting in his own way really did hit the nail on the head.

He thought about it for an eternity--really only 30 seconds--went about asking himself what had held him up for all this time. Fear of rejection obviously but even he started to think that some of the things that had gotten him so caught up were just...excuses.

Even now that he knew you liked him just the way he liked you, they were just excuses.

"So why can't I just...say something?" he finally asked.

Kyle clapped his hand down on Eddie's shoulder twice and then turned so he could head out for his own break.

"Only you can answer that question kid."

---

"Hey do you wanna go out sometime? Ugh."

So he practiced.

"So remember how we're supposed to go to Benny's for Christmas Eve? No."

For days he practiced.

"You know how the first time we went out for pizza I mentioned it wasn't a date? Well this one is. No god, you're an idiot."

Through the rest of the semester, during band practice, he even almost flubbed the lyrics at the gig at the Hideout on the Tuesday before Christmas. There were only so many days left until your dinner together at Benny's and he really wanted it to be your first official date.

But if Eddie was gonna fix this, if he was gonna ask you out, he needed to get it right.

"Hey sweetheart." He muttered as he counted down Paulie's register at the start of his closing shift. "I know I really flubbed it last time we talked but I really like you and I want to know if you'd be my girlfriend.

"We've already kissed enough for it," he added at the end and then winced.

"How about you just lose that last bit," Paulie offered beside him and signed a few receipts. "And then it's perfect."

"Yeah?" Eddie asked hopefully. "Alright. Cool. Great."

He would do it after work tonight.

"Edddiiiiieeee!!!" a screeching voice called from inside the mall and Eddie and Paulie both watched as a Santa with flailing arms ran into TapeWorld. "Eddie man, I really need a favor. I need to use your bathroom."

"What the f--Gareth?" Eddie looked around the store to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating. Gareth was already shedding the hat and the fake beard and unbuckling the wide belt from around his waist. "What the hell are you doing here? Why are you Santa? I thought you were an elf?"

"There's no time to explain," Gareth panted. "But there's a line through the food court to use the bathroom and I couldn't wait, so you either need to let me into your back room or I'm gonna exorcise a demon right here on your sales floor man. Please."

"Ugh," Eddie wrinkled his nose and pointed towards the stockroom. "Yeah, sure whatever. Gross."

"I owe you one," Gareth tossed the fluffy jacket of his costume over the counter at Eddie and then ran into the stockroom. Hopefully just in time.

"So glad I'm cleaning the bathrooms tomorrow night," Paulie scrunched his nose in disgust. "Alright, you and Mitch need anything before I go?"

Eddie was about to say no, was about to send Paulie on his way.

But then he looked down at the coat and got an idea.

An awful idea.

Eddie Munson got a wonderful, awful idea.

"Actually, now that you mention it," Eddie grinned and shrugged the coat on, then the belt, and as he glanced up at Paulie, his coworker groaned, clearly able to read Eddie's mind.

"I thought we agreed no more gimmicks," Paulie exclaimed. "You're just gonna go up and talk to her."

"Yeah," Eddie nodded. "I, Santa Claus, am gonna go up and talk to her. I'm not even gonna take my full break, just five minutes, and then you can leave."

"This isn't gonna work man."

"None of my plans ever do," Eddie shrugged and pulled Paulie into a big hug. "But if it does, I owe you my whole life."

And off he went, across the mall, and up the escalator. He adjusted the coat and the hat and then remembered that he forgot the beard on the counter.

No matter, of course; he really didn't want to get fake beard in his mouth when he planted one on you.

There was practically a line out the door by the time he got to your store. He was able to see you through the window, on the register checking one customer out after another.

You were in the zone, but you didn't look stressed. You smiled a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, but every so often Mindy would crack a joke beside you and it did.

"This actually might be the worst idea," he muttered to himself.

But it was too late.

It was now or never.

You were gonna kill him.

Some of the younger kids in the store started muttering in excitement when they spotted him, only for their parents to say "that's not the real Santa" and "Santa doesn't wear ripped jeans" but you were oblivious until he was standing right beside you at the counter.

"Excuse me," he took a breath and lowered his voice like he would during Hellfire. "I heard there was something special on your wish list this year, young lady."

"Sorry sir," you answered without a thought. "I'll be with you in a second."

"You can't even take a second to help jolly old Saint Nicholas?"

You turned your head, obviously about to tell him off as you schooled your features into something plastic and robotic and customer friendly, until you realized it was him. Then something visibly short-circuited in your brain and he smiled brightly.

"I'd like to apologize to all the boys and girls shopping tonight," he announced to the customers theatrically. "But I have very important Christmas business with our dear Store Manager here. It'll only take a minute."

He was surprised when a few of them started laughing and clapping.

"Alright Santa," you finally composed yourself to answer, arms crossing over your chest in annoyance. "What official Christmas business can I help you with?"

"Well, I was reading over the wishlist that you sent up to the North Pole," he explained. "I don't have it with me, you see. Had to leave it down in the workshop so the rest of the elves could work on the scrunchies and the lipgloss you wanted."

"Uh huh."

"And the new windshield wipers that you refuse to let Santa replace."

You rolled your eyes and waved your hand to get him to go on.

"But there was one thing on the list that...maybe it's these tired old eyes--"

"Old?" you giggled and reached out to tug on his curls. "Your hair isn't even white Santa."

A bunch of nearby kids boo'd.

"Clock's ticking," you whispered. "Get on with it, or I'm gonna have to kick you out Ed."

"--maybe these tired old eyes weren't able to read. See I thought it just said friend. But my trusty elves Kyle and Paulie and Mitch assure me it says boyfriend."

Mindy cooed an awww from beside you and Eddie felt his confidence grow.

"So, Miss Store Manager," Eddie held his hand out to you. "Which one is it? Because I happen to have some high quality...boyfriend material that I can use to make your wish come true. Is that what you'd truly like this Christmas?"

Mindy immediately slammed a hand onto your shoulder and squealed, and although your lips were clamped shut and nose was scrunched, Eddie was sure that you were holding back a smile.

It was the longest 30 seconds of his life.

"Yes, actually," you finally responded. "That's exactly what I want for Christmas Santa."

Eddie's heart surely grew 3 sizes in that very moment as a bunch of customers clapped. And he was eagerly about to jump forward and plant a kiss right on your lips when your hand slammed against his chest to hold him back.

You laughed and your eyes sparkled with promise as you pointed to the door, a silent understanding that you'd continue this conversation later. But for now?

"Get out of my store!"

---

Eddie found you leaning against the side of his van when he clocked out. Your car was parked beside his, running idle, as you waited. The radio softly played the Nutcracker Suite and you hummed along to it.

"Alright," he began when he got close enough. "I know that what I did was a big no-no, but I think everyone was in good spirits about it."

"You're lucky they were," you glared at him in--what he hoped was-- fake annoyance. "I really would hate it if my DM got a call complaining about that. Then I'd have to break up with you before we were actually even together."

"I wouldn't blame you," he winced and then looked down at his feet. "So...do you wanna go out sometime?"

"Like a date?"

"Yeah," he glanced up at you and then back down at his feet. He shuffled them back and forth. "Dinner at Benny's on the 24th? How does that sound."

"Ugh, I dunno," you sing-songed and took a few steps to close the distance between you. You grabbed the lapels of his jacket and shook him a few times.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he questioned as you lifted his hair and turned his head back and forth.

"I'm looking to see if this was the quality boyfriend material that Santa just promised me a few hours ago."

"Hey now," he grabbed your hands in his. "I most certainly am. We've just...been friends for so long. I didn't know if..."

"I do," you answered before he could finish.

"But what if I..."

"You aren't."

"I was gonna say 'what if I fart under the blankets while we're cuddling.'" He deadpanned. "See, this is why it's important not to make assumptions."

"Alright, Fartmeister," you challenged him. "If you want to Dutch Oven your girlfriend, I guess I can't fight you. But don't be shocked when I do the same thing to you eventually."

"That's all I want from a girlfriend," he said. "A strong sense of retaliation and justice."

"Alright then."

"Alright." He shook your hand like you were making some kind of deal. "Christmas Eve at Benny's for our first date."

"Sounds perfect," you agreed.

"Good."

"Good."

You launched yourself in his arms and pressed your lips to his and he swore, probably for the first time in his life, he believed in the spirit of Christmas.

---

Next Chapter: Standard Operating Procedures 1.06

[midnightsslut]

So was taylor really cancelled in 2016 or was it more that she wasn't as popular as she was/would like to be?

oh she was absolutely canceled. buckle up because I have a lot of thoughts on this djsjsj.

if you were around in the fandom at all, you knew. things were BAD. that level of hate towards a celebrity is honestly rare these days. i would say the only thing that comes close in recent memory is like… idk, it’s actually hard to think of any because it was a combination of a few factors. it’s not that the general public decided to quietly boycott her and stop consuming her music. it’s that there were viral tweets hating on her pretty much every week. if she did anything in 2016-18, it was met with an absolutely asinine amount of criticism. twitter had a field day with things as innocent as her september cover and her post about having a good year in 2017. a lot of celebrities decided to distance themselves and take kanye’s side. there were numerous articles written about how she was finally going down and should apologize for being problematic. people were famously convinced the tour would flop and absolutely celebrated it. people literally told her she was dead. it’s genuinely difficult to explain the scope of this hate train to people who weren’t around at the time, especially because the news cycle is very different now. people get over news stories a lot quicker than they used to.

now, the main argument people use to prove that she wasn’t canceled is the first-week sales of reputation, which is sort of funny to me because all the coverage in 2017 focused on how its performance was lackluster compared to 1989. of course it still sold well compared to other artists’ albums in the first week, because there was still hype around her comeback, and most importantly, she has a huge fan base. none of the singles had longevity except delicate, which fans genuinely worked their asses off to campaign for. the radio did not play her singles like it used to, though this is due to other factors as well. sure, rep was not actually a flop, but it was nowhere near how TS6, the follow-up to one of the biggest pop eras of the decade, could’ve performed without the cancellation. it also got the worst reviews of her career, most of which generally didn’t focus on the music or the lyricism and were just mad at her as a person. yes, this sounds dramatic, considering the fact that it still got a lot of glowing reviews. the media made sure to focus on a lot of the negative stuff, although they were surprised that critics generally seemed to like it.

what’s funny is that, when she spoke about the kanye controversy in interviews in 2019, no one told her she wasn’t ‘really’ canceled, because a lot of people still hated her. they just told her to get over it. the level of hate was nowhere near pre-rep tour levels anymore, but she was still one of the most criticized celebrities, and it was widely believed that her peak had passed (people love to write revisionist history about the lover album and its performance that does not actually reflect the numbers, but that’s another story). now that more time has passed, and she’s even higher than she was pre-2016, people want to convince her that she’s actually wrong.

it’s almost insane to me to chalk up that level of hate to anything other than a cancellation. seeing articles like ‘was taylor swift REALLY canceled?’ and essays on why that’s just in her head will infuriate ANYONE who was online and didn’t hate her. none of the articles I linked here really convey the scope of that hate. taylor really played the long game and came out the other side of it, but she WAS canceled.

[grabby-smitten]

Pinky promise

Subjects: Bunny Hybrid!Xavier x Human F!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Content: Hybrid AU, fluff mostly, domestic stuff, sprinkles of angst here and there, no beta and not edited, commas placed everywhere, gender-neutral for this part(i think), idk… let me know if i missed anything. Second part has smut and will be posted separately.

A.N: Happy late birthday Xavier and Halloween especial… I guess xD. Two birds one stone?

Your local shelter was always overflowing. new hybrids coming in each week, at least according to their social media updates. It was heartbreaking watching the shelter on your work commute, multiple sounds overwhelmed that side of the street, strong smells on the pavement and everything you witnessed trailed after you to work and back home.

But not once did you step foot on the shelter. Were you scared? Probably. From what your coworkers said, it was extremely hard to care for a hybrid. Very complicated creatures. And expensive. you could barely take care of yourself. Not to mention that you hated social environments and from what you read on the internet; hybrids are social creatures. Alone you were fine… or so you thought.

Yet, you couldn’t just let the older hybrids get— well, you know what they do in most shelters when nobody adopts.

So here you are, waiting in line to fill out some forms and get your first hybrid. Sweat running down your back, and your feet hurting from standing in the same position for far too long. How long has it been since you first stepped in the line? two hours? Three? and the line barely moved.

Leaning to the side, you watched the attendants at the counter seem tired, and their hair sticking to their forehead confirmed your suspicions that the air conditioner wasn’t working as well as it should.

You had enrolled in the adoption program as soon as new spots opened for this term and just your luck with a spot on the special campaign. Besides, trying to speak yourself out of it hadn’t worked. You would give it a try and if things didn’t work out— then you would find a solution.

Today, the shelter was holding that special adoption campaign. Something about not charging the usual fees, the first year of medical expenses free and just one written evaluation to the future owners.

A couple came out of the visiting room with a young dog-hybrid. It was jumping around them and wagging its tail so enthusiastically that it kind of scared you. What if you got a hyperactive one? Your worlds would crash and the inevitable would happen.

Soon you heard your name being called out by one of the shelter workers and it snapped you out of your tragic daydream.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” He asked while reading the papers on his clipboard.

“Yes,” you replied while nodding.

“Okay, let’s see…” the shelter worker skimmed through his papers not really looking at you, “with what you filled the form with, this should be a good match. He’s a bunny hybrid and…” he trailed off, “that’s all we know,” he started to walk and you assumed it was a sign to follow him.

As you walked after the shelter workers, you passed some cages. A few were empty while others were full with more than a pair of hybrids in them. Your hands in fists, not being able to handle seeing such a scene, but you repeated to yourself that you were already doing your part to help fix this broken system. Adopting is a good way to help, you kept chanting in your mind.

“Sedentary lifestyle, doesn’t use much space and no noise, yeah. This should do.” Again, you were snapped out of your thoughts by the shelter worker. Turning a deaf ear to how he described the bunny hybrid, you noticed the door in front of you had the word abnormal painted in red bold letters.

“Hey! Xavier! A cute lady has come to visit you!” The worker banged his clipboard on the door making you jump in surprise.

“Please don’t do that.” The coldness of your voice came unexpectedly. As a reflex, you even raised your hand to try and stop the worker’s movements.

“Sorry, but it’s alright.” He pointed to the inside of the cell-like door. “He never says anything.”

His comment infuriated you to no end. Your insides were burning with rage, but you kept quiet. The faster you’re done with this, the faster you can go home.

You watched him open the door and the acid air from the inside hit you first. The smell triggered a wave of helplessness within you. how could all these be alright to a living creature? You couldn’t… you shouldn’t… but what other things could a normal civilian do to change the new world and its fucked up system?

In all truth, you knew, you dreaded this very moment when everything came crashing down on you, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. You were here and it wasn’t gonna change the whole world but you would, indeed, change someone’s world.

Once inside you grimaced at the unsanitary state of the room. Old food scattered everywhere, a lump of sheets and cloth in a corner, and… no hybrid?

“Ah, he must be under all that,” you heard the worker speak and he began to move towards the big ball of sheets at the corner.

“It’s fine, I’ll do it.” You didn’t want him near the hybrid more than necessary.

Making sure your steps were loud and clear, you approached where you guessed the hybrid would be hiding.

It all happened so fast. One moment you were reaching for the lump of sheets, and the next your hand got pulled under and a stinging sensation palpitated in your palm.

Did… did he just bite you?

Just as fast, you snatched your hand back, cradling it against your chest as you swallowed the yelp you wanted to let out.

“Hey, Xavier?” You managed to sound as calm as possible, “I probably startled you, right? I’m sorry for that… uhmm…” You proceeded to tell him your name, internally praying that the guy outside wouldn’t interfere.

The lump of sheets moved and hope struck you. A blue eye adorned with long dark lashes peeked from a small opening in between the sheets and your heart instantly softened. You saw fear clouding his striking pupil. Forgotten was the small, almost nonexistent, injury in your palm. All you wanted was to calm that vast raging blue ocean in such a small eye.

“I get it,” you said softly, “I practically had you corned and you reacted. I’m not mad, promise,” and you showed him your pinky finger.

Xavier wasn’t sure what to think. What he knew was that you were not one of the usual workers at the shelter and that you didn’t smell like… danger. You actually had a nice scent, different from everyone he had ever met in his long life— nothing overwhelming, it was almost soothing. That’s why he instinctively went straight for your hand. He didn’t even realize when his teeth had nibbled at your palm.

A pinky? That’s what you were offering. Still under the tons of sheets, Xavier wondered what was he supposed to do.

“You can lock your pinky finger with mine if you want,” you explained, seeing his eye suddenly frown and look perplexed at your gesture. “It means a promise has been made.”

The sound of fumbling cloth raised your spirits. Then a pale hand came from under all that and his pinky finger intertwined with yours. He had relented to your words… because it was the first time he was offered a choice. Not forced. Not bribed. No threats.

Convincing Xavier to come out was another ordeal. One that you achieved eventually, after negotiating with a second pinky promise of fresh food.

What actually left you with your mouth hanging open was his height. How come someone so tall was a bunny hybrid? well, the white ball of a tail and his ears sticking from his head were a dead giveaway. But still… he was taller than your average person.

The walk back home wasn't hard. Nothing eventful took place, just two jumpy individuals trying to make it back home without tripping with their own two feet. What a peculiar pair.

Less than an hour of meeting Xavier and you were already protective of your bunny hybrid. Your step might have faltered but your grip on his hand didn’t quiver. You made sure he knew you were taking him somewhere safe and that you didn’t hate his presence.

Such intention was hard to convey, especially when you tried to get him to bathe. Leaving him alone in the bathroom was a waste of time, it only made him panic and built a lump of towels.

So here you stand, in shorts and an old shirt trying to help Xavier shower.

“Xavier, please, just— wait! The water!” And with a push from the bunny hybrid, you came toppling down into the bathtub. Splashing the soapy water everywhere.

He saw your head dive in first as your arms attempted to stop your fall.

“I’m fine! It’s okay!” Moving the wet hair out of your face, you smiled sheepishly at Xavier.

He was taken aback by your reaction. He expected anything but a smile.

The first few weeks went like that. Food? The same. Xavier would panic and throw half of what you prepared to the ceiling and walls and then the rest on you. When you finished cleaning, you would find him under a pile of blankets in the kitchen.

And yes, almost no sounds came from the bunny hybrid. His blue eyes shone with a hurricane of emotions but his voice never expressed them.

You told yourself you had to be patient. All the incidents weren’t really directed at you but at whatever ghost that kept hunting him. Remembering the word painted in red on his door back at the shelter reaffirmed your resolve to give Xavier the chance he never got before.

Weeks became months and things slowly but steadily improved. Xavier no longer had those unexpected reactions and he stopped hiding under blankets and towels— well, almost— he still built those forts once in a while. He seemed more comfortable around you, so much so that he began talking to you.

The first time you heard his voice you almost screamed bloody murder. You still remember it as the night you nearly died of a heart attack.

It was a stormy night, and the electric storm was rampaging for hours now. All lights had gone out, but you were comfortable in bed reading a book with a flashlight. When a deep but soft voice you have never heard before in your life interrupted your night reading. You heard your name come from your door and it slowly opened.

You practically jumped out of the bed, one foot getting caught by your covers and your forehead hit the ground with a thud and a cry. Quickly, your eyes hovered over the side of your mattress searching for the owner of the voice, when your eyes landed on Xavier standing at your door.

“Xavier?” Gathering your thoughts, you realized the voice calling your name in the middle of the dark was his. “I-is there something you need?”

Of course, you were stunned by this new development but you knew that if you didn’t handle the situation accordingly, you would lose this opportunity. Calm and collected were the words you mentally chanted as you slowly stood up with your heart beating wildly in your throat.

“Can I…” he felt his hesitation rising as the hands of anxiety began to squeeze Xavier’s insides.

You send him a look full of warmth, encouraging him to keep going, and the sudden nails digging into his stomach slowly evaporated.

“Can I stay here?” His deep but melodic soft voice traveled to your ears and you felt like crying, but you held everything in. This was about him.

“Sure, Xavier. Let me get you more blankets.” You smiled, storm and the almost-heart attack left in the past. “I know how much you like them.”

A few blankets later and a bunny hybrid wrapped in them like a burrito, you went back to your book. you expected Xavier to just fall asleep. But oh, boy… he had different plans.

“Why are you so kind to me when I have been nothing but trouble to you?” Xavier’s whispers broke the silence in your room.

Closing your book and leaving it on your bedside table, you turned your attention completely to your bunny hybrid who rested comfortably on the pillow next to yours.

“I promised, remember?” You lifted your pinky, “aaand do I need a reason to be kind? Maybe it’s an instinct to be this way, just like you with your blanket forts or I just don’t know how to be mean.” You lightheartedly joked with the last part.

A while passed after your words and you thought your answer had satisfied Xavier. So you got cozy in your bed and closed your eyes, assuming that your first-ever chat with Xavier had come to an end.

And again, he was a bunny hybrid full of surprises. Your assumptions were wrong because that was not the case. Xavier had ambushed you once more. Out of nowhere, he began to speak again.

“That’s not true. I remember you verbally berating the neighbors the other day.” He casually mumbled.

You widened your eyes, startled by his words. “No— that’s— Xavier, they were being too loud and you got scared!”

“I know,” he then turned around and went to sleep. Just like that. Leaving you all dumbfounded beside him.

More than a year together and things were good until they weren’t. Xavier began to behave weirdly around you and it just kept getting worse. He presented fevers, cold sweats, and very abnormal noises at night.

And so you did what you thought was best and called his doctor.

“His heat? Wha– what do you mean his heat?” Your phone nearly slipped from your hand and your eyes almost popped out of your skull at what the doctor was telling you. “But–but the shelter said he never had one before! That he’s too old! I don’t— yes, I understand but—” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “What do you mean the first heat could last about ten months?”

You did not sign up for that… that was… how would that even work?

“Okay, thank you.” A couple of more suggestions from his doctor and you finally ended the call.

Hunched over the bathroom sink, you took some deep breaths before coming out to look for Xavier. You would ask for his consent first and foremost. What the doctor implied in the call sounded awful but you had little to no options. Ten months, the first week should be the worst and then the rest should be manageable with what? Get him a prescription? Suppressant? A mating partner? Gosh… your brain was fried.

“Hey Xav? Are you awake?” You said softly as you opened the door. He had been taking more naps than usual to keep… to keep whatever was happening with his system under control.

He grunted a response from his bed, once again the blanket forts were back in place.

With a heavy heart, you told him what the doctor had said, and instantly you got a strange growl in response.

“Do not use that tone with me,” you lightly reprimanded followed by a soft chuckle on your part. “I get it, really. I didn’t like the options either.”

“The others,” he began to say, voice a bit muffled under all those blankets, “at the shelter, they could withstand their heat. I can too.”

He sounded so sure, but you? From what you heard the doctor say? You doubted it. After all, Xavier was a late bloomer. For whatever reason, be it trauma or lack of nutrients, or feeling unsafe, his body didn’t allow him before. Now, that he has a safe environment? That was a different story.

Needless to say, you were right. Things got out of hand pretty fast.

“Chain me,” Xavier demanded behind his closed door. Blocking your path to his room.

“What? No! Xavier, I can’t—“You banged your fist for the hundredth time. “Just let me in! We’ll find something!” You were desperate. He meant the world to you and vice versa. Both grew to be the one thing each other needed.

“Chain me! That’s what they did with the others.” He kept insisting. “It’s for your own good! I can withstand the week! Just go get them!” Xavier shouted, a desperate look clouded his delicate features.

Your heart broke for him as his pleas traveled through the door. He had never raised his voice before and as tears ran down your cheeks, you made up your mind, nodding, and with pain constricting your chest you went straight to buy a collar and a set of chains.

Hours became days and you couldn’t step into Xavier’s room without breaking into a sobbing mess. You didn’t get the chain, that was too much. Instead, you got just the collar and a harness which did the work just fine.

It was almost done, you told yourself as you paced back and forth outside his door. Only three more days and he would be less affected by his hormones.

Click here! Smut inside! pls be aware! -> PART 2

[archiveikemen]

Victor 1st Birthday Campaign: Story (2024)

His POV

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Warnings and FAQ

The darkness of the night was my friend, and death was myself.

Today too, I walked, and walked, and walked in the darkness.

Then, I suddenly turned around.

Look, over there – a bloodied, blissful look of death.

…

Kate: Victor, Harrison lent me a book recently, so…

I did my own work, while Kate did the work she had as the fairytale writer.

Working in the same office together and listening to her stories gradually became a part of my everyday life.

(... She looks happy. She’s become a true member of Crown now.)

Kate: Right, about the matter regarding the maid Marianne that I discussed with you a few days back—

Victor: Ah, give her a few days off work. Meeting up with a long-distance lover is a very important occasion.

When I told her that I had already settled the matter we were in the midst of discussing, she blinked in surprise.

Kate: Victor… at approximately what time do you usually go to sleep?

Victor: Usually?

Kate: I understand that you have a heavy workload, and that’s something I can never deal with.

Kate: But whenever I approach you for something I want to discuss, you immediately resolve the matter on your own…

Victor: Ehh~~ are you perhaps praising me? Goodness, I’m overjoyed!

Victor: But unfortunately, I need to sleep as well. I’m a human being, after all. I only have so much time in a day.

Victor: Which means, the matters you bring up to me are of extremely high priority compared to the other things I have on hand.

Kate: … Thank you, Victor.

Victor: I thank you too, for caring about the other staff working here.*

*Victor actually referred to them as “kids”

Kate: Also… you can forget that I said anything if it turns out to be a misunderstanding, but…

Victor: … Hm?

Kate: Do you have something that’s been bothering you lately, Victor?

Kate: Things that make you unhappy…

(This girl is very observant and sharp.)

Those sincere eyes of hers deserve a sincere reply.

Victor: I have a mission with William tonight, and it’s not one that puts me in a good mood.

I was made aware of the existence of an organisation hat made Her Majesty the symbol of their beliefs — in other words, they worship her like a god.

(People are entitled to their religious beliefs, and Crown has no rights to interfere on that, however…)

There was word that the organisation abducted women and imprisoned them to be worshipped, and those who held no physical resemblance to Her Majesty were killed.

Victor: Tonight, we will investigate the organisation and punish them if found guilty.

Kate: … To think they’d kill people over their religious beliefs.

Victor: Kate, because this mission might make you uncomfortable—

Not giving me a chance to finish my sentence, she responded with a stern look.

Kate: Victor, can you allow me to accompany you on this mission as the fairytale writer?

Out of respect for her wish, I accepted her request and we headed to the organisation’s base that night.

…

William: We found the belongings of the missing women, blood stains, and bodies. They have no way to defend themselves now.

Kate: Means to say… they’re guilty?

Tommy Yeager, aristocrat. Leah Rodríguez, congresswoman. Kevin Nicholson…

(This is a lot of important people.)

Out of greed for greater power, they worshipped the Queen and hoped that she would fulfil their wishes.

William: There are two possible venues for tonight’s ritual; one is the top floor of this mansion, and the other is the basement.

Victor: Kate and I will go down to the basement. We shall proceed immediately, in order to prevent any more sacrifices.

Kate: Okay…

William: Victor, how much “mercy” do you want to show tonight?

Victor: — No need for any. Their wrongdoings are deserving of condemnation. Give into your wickedness, Will.

Not wanting Kate to witness anything horrifying, I prayed that we weren’t headed for where our “prize” was.

…

(Ahh, turns out the basement is indeed where our “prize” is at.)

In the basement was what appeared to be an altar, candlelight flickering.

A group of people in masquerade surrounded the altar, laying at the centre was a young girl who looked of tender years.

(Is that the “substitute” for Her Majesty? … Utterly heinous.)

I noticed that one of the men was about to lower the candle in his hand onto the girl’s arm, and I reflexively took a step forward.

— But Kate beat me to it.

Kate: … STOP!

Masked Red-Haired Man: Wha– what’s with this woman!? Let go, get your hands off me…

Kate: Please let that girl go! Ahh…!

In that split second, Kate was shoved into the altar and instantly collapsed onto the ground.

Victor: Kate…? Kate…

(She’s alright, she’s still breathing. She only lost consciousness…)

— There was something on the ground next to her, it seemed that it fell out during her fall.

(Oh, this is…)

– Flashback Start –

Victor: Kate, you’ll be following Elbert and Roger on their mission tonight.

Kate: Okay. I’m still not used to this, I hope I won't get in their way.

Victor: I see. In that case, take this with you.

Kate: … A Cameo hair ornament?

Victor: May it keep you out of harm’s way.

Kate: Fufu, I feel safe knowing that you’re always on a lookout for me.

Kate: Thank you very much, Victor! I’ll be on my way.

– Flashback End –

(... This is the hair ornament I gifted you back when you first joined Crown.)

(You’ve been keeping it by your side like a protective charm…)

Kate lying unconscious on the ground, the girl on the altar, all the innocent women who died there—

Tonight, I had more than enough reason to show absolutely no mercy.

Masked Red-Haired Man: Pfft, haha. This is all because she disrupted our ritual!

Masked Black-Haired Man: … H-Hey. Hold on… this man is…

Masked Black-Haired Man: Isn’t this Sir Victor?

Masked Man with Freckles: I-It really is! How could the Queen’s right hand man show up in such a place!?

I took a good look at all of them, and my gaze focused on one person.

Victor: Was it you who pushed that girl?

Masked Red-Haired Man: Y-Yes… it was me, Sir Victor.

Staring at the man who scrambled up to me, I commanded.

(... It's time for death to come to you.)

Victor: In the name of … I command you. — Now, succumb to my wickedness.

In a trance, the man stared into space.

Masked Red-Haired Man: Ahh… somehow… I feel so happy… I… I…

The man wrapped his hands around his neck, immediately taking his own life.

Masked Black-Haired Man: Is he… dead? Why did he kill himself…?

I turned my gaze towards the alarmed and bewildered men.

Victor: … From right to left, say your names.

Masked Black-Haired Man: Tommy Yeager. … Ugh, gguhh…

I gave another death order.

Masked Man with Freckles: Leah Rodríguez. I- I… ahh!

And another.

All that was left was dead silence.

As though they had a blissful dream, the men died with peaceful expressions on their faces.

William: Is it over? Looks like there’s no chance for me to step into the spotlight.

Victor: Oh, Will. This is where the “prize” was.

William: They died with such peaceful faces, it’s almost as if they were possessed by a god.

(A god, huh.)

It was like saying that “Her Majesty The Queen” was no god.

Victor: … Humans can never become god.

William: Based on what you said, that will surely be the case.

With a calm smile, William picked up the girl on the altar.

William: You can entrust this girl to me. I’ll leave you to look after Kate.

William: Because it seems to me that your rage is heavily correlated to her.

…

Roger examined Kate upon our return to the castle, and he said that she would regain consciousness very soon.

I gently laid the unconscious Kate on her bed.

(Kate. … I’m so glad you’re safe.)

Looking at her face, I was reminded of the night we first met.

When I suggested that she become our fairytale writer, it was partially because I came up with that on the spot.

The other reason being… I anticipated the change she would bring to Crown.

Despite their differences, every member of Crown was a person of strong character.

It was precisely because of that, I believed that “change brought upon by others” was crucial.

Humans could only grow stronger in the presence of others.

(This change will guide those guys towards a more beautiful evil.)

And I would watch her from a distance — that was the original plan, at least.

(Unknowingly, you brought upon a change in me too.)

As William said earlier on, it was clear that seeing her hurt made me fly into a rage.

I felt alive, that was… a “human” emotion.

(Your presence has turned me from a spectator to a player.)

(However—)

I gently placed the Cameo hair ornament back into Kate’s hair.

(Regardless of how lovely you are, I will always remain by your side as “Victor, Aide to The Queen”.)

(No more, no less.)

Or else, my darkness, and death — would swallow her whole.

I gave her hair a gentlemanly kiss.

Victor: Consider this a bad dream and forget everything. Be it nightmares or death, I will never let them reach you.

Victor: … Good night, Kate.

…

The next day, Kate regained her consciousness and came to me at the speed of light to apologise.

Kate: I’m truly sorry, Victor. I was to blame for rushing out without thinking it through…

(You’d still blame yourself even if I tell you I didn't mind, won't you?)

(Ah, that's right. In that case…)

Victor: Would you like to have lunch with me, Kate?

…

Victor: I was about to have a lonely lunchtime today, I’m so glad you’re here.

Kate: Can I make it up to you for last night with this?

Victor: Of course. I find joy in having a delicious meal with another person’s company.

Kate: Fufu, that’s good to hear.

(That captivating smile of yours is finally back.)

— Suddenly, it started drizzling.

Victor: It’s a passing shower. Come here, Kate. Let’s take shelter at the gazebo over there.

Kate: A-Alright…

…

(... That was surprising. The rainfall in London can be so unpredictable.)

Victor: Kate, are you alright—

Before I could ask, Kate wiped my cheeks with her hands.

Kate: I’m alright. You, on the other hand…

Victor: … (surprised)

Despite being drenched herself, she was still more concerned about me. The hands touching me felt so warm, almost like a gentle shower falling from the clear sky.

There it was “again” — the change in my heart.

Kate: Ah, I almost forgot. Liam told me that he has something for you.

Kate: I’m very curious about why he said in a frustrated tone that he was “supposed to give it to you yesterday”.

(Ahh…)

Victor: It was my birthday yesterday.

Kate: … Wait.

Kate: WHAT!?

That was likely the most shocked I had ever seen her from the day we met, I couldn't contain my laughter.

(I never intended to tell you myself, because I know you’ll get unnecessarily worked up over it.)

Kate: I-I’m so sorry I didn’t prepare a present for you, I didn’t know it was your birthday…

Victor: Haha, it’s okay. I already received one from you.

Kate: …?

Victor: You spent the whole day with me yesterday.

Victor: Although I genuinely only wanted to respect your freedom of choice, perhaps I also had the childish wish for you to stay by my side on my birthday.

Victor: … Thank you, Kate.

She looked up at the clear sky with a smile.

Kate: … Hey, Victor. I want to become stronger.

Victor: Why so?

Kate: I know that you’ll always protect me from harm, but… being the weakling I am…

She mumbled “I know there are many things in this world that are better off being left unbeknownst to me” under her breath.

Then, she continued, saying “but if it's things related to you, I want to know all about them”. And—

Kate: When you’re having a hard time, I don't want to just laugh it off and pretend I don’t know.

I was captivated by the way she said those words with a smile.

Not only did she change Crown and I, even she went through beautiful changes with every blink of an eye.

(... This girl is like a storm in springtime.)

Would I someday be caught up in that storm — and tell her the truth?

(But now is not the time.)

Victor: Don’t move too fast towards becoming stronger, I’ll feel lonely being left behind.

(Stay like this just for a little bit longer.)

[matan4il]

Hi Alice! All my love to you in these dark dark times. You've been instrumental to me learning more about what it's like in Israel on the ground right now, and helping me not get swept up in the vitriolic rhetoric so many of my fellow liberals are espousing. I've been horrified by some of the behavior I've seen from the pro-Palestine crowd. I quietly support both sides of the conflict, and hope to see a return of the hostages, a subsequent ceasefire, and a realistic path to a two-state solution in the near future.

I'm asking this in good faith because I trust your research and input on these things, and I'm curious about your perspective. TW for rape and torture. I've seen a report come out on one of the tumblrs I follow (who is very pro-Palestine and anti-Zionist, unfortunately, I only follow them for fandom content) stating that there's been torturous conditions inside Israeli prisons–Sde Teiman specifically–detaining Palestinians. It includes accusations of rape, beatings, and amputations due to injuries from being cuffed. I was wondering if you had seen this report and had thoughts about whether this is another anti-Israel smear campaign or a cruel reality of bad people doing bad things. I'm always inclined to believe victims, and as an American, I'm painfully aware of the atrocities that can happen in detentions centers, especially during wartime.

Please know I'm not accusing you of anything or trying to make this a gotcha thing! I'm curious about your thoughts as an Israeli who does good research and knows her country and history. Thank you again for all you do, and I'm so sorry to hear about your colleague's murder. May you and your loved ones find as much rest and peace as can be found in a time like this. Take care.

Hi Nonnie,

thank you so much for your kind words (especially regarding Alex), your humaneness and willingness to listen to Jews and Israelis! Absolutely, there is no contradiction in supporting regular people on both sides of this conflict. This is NOT a zero-sum game. Both sides can thrive, if we all choose and are just allowed to coexist.

Okay, the Sde Teiman accusations...

Let me start with the history of this army base, because it is relevant to how it was used.

In 1942, the Nazis landed in northern Africa, and were headed eastwards, toward the Land of Israel. As a part of getting ready for that, The British (who ruled Israel at the time) paved a strip of asphalt in the desert, not too far from the expected direction of the Nazis' invasion, and used it as an airfield. They also built a few hangars next to the runway, and this is what in the 1950's became the military base called Sde Teiman ("Field of Yemen," in honor of the Israeli's air force operation of airlifting the Jews of Yemen, and bringing them to Israel. Along with the operation to bring the Ethiopian and Indian Jews to Israel, these mark the only times when a "first world" country brought people from "third world" countries - with the goal of making them citizens with equal rights). I'm sharing this info, so everyone can get an idea of how small and insufficient this army base is for the purpose of detaining prisoners. And indeed, under normal circumstances, it is NOT used for that purpose.

However, when Hamas launches surprise attacks from Gaza, it has been used for temporary detention (until arrested terrorists can be transferred to more adequate facilities) simply because of its proximity to Israel's border with Gaza.

That's how it was used following the Oct 7 Hamas invasion of Israel, too. Things to note about this: Israel did not initiate the massacre and following war, so it didn't have time to prepare a better temporary detention center with personnel properly trained to be jailors, and also, while Sde Teiman had been used temporarily for terrorist detention before, it was never used for as many arrested terrorists as after Oct 7. Consider that on the day itself alone, around 3,500 terrorists invaded Israel, and that was just the first day of the war.

When it comes to general accusations of awful conditions there, which might lead to terrible consequences, a big part of it is probably down to the fact that this base was not meant for this purpose (and the fact that it was used this way is because of the nature of Hamas' attack rather than any intended maliciousness).

The conditions were all wrong as a result of the chaos of war regarding the sexual assault case, too. The guards were not trained to be jailors, they didn't have the right tools to deal with arrested terrorists, especially these terrorists, who belonged to the Nukhba, a Hamas "elite" unit and the main perpetrator of the massacre (the Nukhba to Hamas are like the Waffen SS to the Nazis, imagine what Israelis feel when they hear "Nukhba"). Think of the atrocities committed by these men: the rapes, the beheadings, the mutilations, the murder of children, the burning down of homes with people inside, the extermination of entire families, the destruction of Israel's southern communities, and the psychological trauma caused to the entire country, when many are already dealing with lots of trauma, including of the inter-generational kind. Now imagine being an ordinary reservist, a regular civilian, not someone who has chosen the army as a way of life, not someone who has seen the horrors off war recently (or maybe ever), someone with a family that could have easily been targeted on Oct 7, someone who isn't trained for how to jail the vilest of criminals, then tasked with guarding in over-crowded and extremely close settings such monsters while being psychologically affected by their terrorism (which is the main goal of terrorism! To terrorize even those not directly harmed!)...

Initially, 10 soldiers, who are all reservists, were arrested. Since then, it turns out only 5 of them will be indicted (indicating that there is no substantial evidence against the other 5) for supposedly sexually assaulting a Nukhba terrorist. Specifically, the Nukhba company commander of Jabalya. He's not any regular terrorist, he's someone who was a commander that partook in the Oct 7 massacre, he oversaw the committed atrocities, he didn't only commit crimes, he gave the orders. At least one of the suspected soldiers testified that this Nukhba commander was going haywire, and had to be physically subdued. According to reporters, a doctor initially checked this Nukhba commander and found no signs of abuse. Only later did the terrorist start bleeding from his behind. According to a submitted report by Prof. Alon Pikarsky, a senior doctor at Hadassah, the civilian hospital this terrorist was later admitted into, the harm to the terrorist's behind is most likely self-inflicted. Based on accounts from reporters, the overall medical and forensic testimonies submitted cannot confirm nor refute the claims of the Nukhba terrorist.

So when it comes to the case itself, I can't say much. The accusations are serious, the question marks are serious, and I don't have the professional tools to figure out where the truth lies. There will be a trial, more qualified people than me will decide.

Obviously, as an Israeli, I hope the accusations are false. Not because I think there is ANY society out there which is perfect, and in which no crimes ever take place, especially where extreme circumstances are involved, but because I think it's natural to hope for the best for one's people.

Where it comes to the people who tried to stop the arrest of the suspected soldiers, I believe they're in the wrong for multiple reasons: for the sake of justice, for the state of the Israeli justice system, and even for the sake of the soldiers, if it turns out they're innocent. At the same time, while I am NOT okay with the arrests being stopped, I can understand the sentiment. In Israel, especially post Oct 7, soldiers are our most immediate heroes. They risk themselves, they save countless lives, (even the ones "only" guarding terrorists know they could be killed doing this, and they're saving people by keeping the terrorists locked up), they're dealt shitty hands sometimes (like having to guard Nukhba terrorists when they're not even trained for it), and they do all this for us, as a collective, men and women, adults and kids, Jews and Arabs. We ALL owe them, every Israeli. So the sentiment is that there is something difficult to process about a situation where the word of a massacre-committing terrorist commander is believed over that of people who are perceived as heroes. It makes a protective side of people come out, even people who at the end accept that the justice system must do its thing.

And when it comes to the justice system, I think it matters SO MUCH that it will do its thing. No army can prevent every single one of its soldiers, as individuals, from committing crimes. But there are armies that, as a system, commit crimes. The justice system that prosecutes individual crimes is a part of the difference.

Still, even if the accusations are true, even while I'm happy they're investigated, I went into the details of the case, because I do believe that even at worst, there are extenuating circumstances. Those don't turn a wrong act into a right one, but they acknowledge that, under extreme circumstances, and without the right tools, many normative people without criminal intent might end up doing the wrong thing. The psychological burden of guarding extremist terrorists who have traumatized an entire society, including their guards, in close quarters and without the right training, it could be one that would make a lot of regular people crack. I'm glad I've never been tested like that. I'd like to believe I wouldn't have done the wrong thing, but who knows. We're all human, we all have our triggers. Especially in the face of complete evil that harmed our loved ones or threatens to. I feel lucky that I was never put in an extreme situation, like those soldiers, I hope they did the right thing, but I find it hard to morally judge them if they didn't, even where I recognize that if they did what they're accused of, they should be legally judged.

IDK if this helped, but I hope it at least reflects the fact that for quite a few Israelis ('coz I can't speak or all of us, but I think this probably represents a fair number of people), it is complicated, and not a clear-cut case of black and white, good vs evil...

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[medra-gonbites]

Roll Initiative

A one shot chapter multi-chapter fic for @bloodweaveweek 2024

Day 7 | Alternate Universe

Word Count: 2,529

NSFW - Gambling, Teasing, Heavy Smut

“Roll a perception check!” Gale said.

“Come on!” Protested Astarion, “Can’t you just tell me what’s in the room? Do I really have to roll the bloody die every time I want to do something?”

“That’s how the game works Astarion,” Wyll sighed, “Please, listen to the Dungeon Master and roll the perception check!”

Astarion begrudgingly seized the die twenty. He shuffled it in his hand a few times before dropping it on the wooden surface of the table below him. It tumbled sporadically before landing in one of its triangular faces. One.

“You see nothing, hear nothing and smell nothing. As far as you are concerned there isn’t even a room there.” Gale declared, leaning back on his chair, his arms crossed and an impassable look on his face.

“Oh come the fuck on!” Astarion snarled, punching the table with one fist.

Wyll burst out laughing, his character sheet flying away with the power of his breath.

Astarion glared at Gale. If he didn’t know any better he would suspect that the die was loaded. 

It was his first time playing a Dungeon and Dragon campaign after Wyll had successfully worn him down to the idea. He felt absolutely ridiculous.

This type of game was not really his cup of tea, but Wyll was a really good friend and he had practically begged him to join. Apparently their party missed a player or some lame excuse like this. It didn’t make sense because when he had arrived at Gale’s, only Wyll had shown up. Apparently the three other participants had canceled at the last minute. 

Lucky Bastards. 

Before he was able to escape from this nerdish hell, Gale, the king of nerds it seemed, had proposed to do a quick and easy campaign to ease up Astarion in this new world. Not at all eased up right now it actually felt like he was being hazed like a newbie.

Gale was looking at him above his DM screen, squinting, an amused glint in his eyes and a cheeky smile etched on his face. The tip of his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. For a moment Astarion wondered if he had seen something there. A slight flash of lust in his gaze as it trailed up and down his body. But he was probably projecting. 

He was not sure if it was the commanding tone, the intelligent eyes or the fleshy pink lip budding from his lush beard, but he could not help but find him fascinatingly handsome… For a nerd. 

----------------------------------------------------------

Wyll left shortly after the campaign ended. They had defeated a hobgoblin sorcerer and rescued the nobleman whom a mysterious dwarf had asked them to find. Their characters had won a few gold coins, and they themselves had drunk a few cold beers.

Astarion was surprised and a bit ashamed to admit he did like the game after all. It was stupid and random but very creative and fun. Although he had strong suspicion that  Gale and Wyll had thoroughly enjoyed making him the fall guy of the evening. 

Stabbing himself in the rib while trying to attack, tripping over a stick, failing to read a parchment resulting in his character scorching his face… etc. Frankly he had almost felt bullied.

Gale was clearing the table as Astarion was finishing his drink and slowly packing his own things. His lips around the throat of the bottle, Astarion paused mid sip, mesmerized by the game master’s hand for a moment: neatly stacking the lore books and gathering the dice in a miniature wooden chest his slander fingers were fluttering about. Astarion suddenly had the intrusive urge to lick them.

“So. Did you like it?” 

Gale's voice snatched him out of his lewd reverie. He felt his cheeks start to burn. He cleared his throat, downed his beer, and looked up to meet the brown gaze of the game master on him. He wondered if Gale could see that he was blushing. He was smiling at him. The same mischievous smile as earlier.

“It was alright.” Astarion admitted casually, making sure to hide his enthusiasm, “You could have dialed the persecution down though…”

“Apologies” Gale chuckled, “I assure you it was not personal.” 

Astarion could feel the tension between them. Now that Wyll was gone it was evident. Tangible almost. Thick enough to be cut with a knife. He caught Gale’s eyes lingering on his neck and collarbone. The latter diverted his stare immediately when he realized he had been caught. 

Astarion walked up to him. He waved a hand through his hair, caressing along the nap of his neck and landing on his sternum, subtly inviting the other man’s eyes there.  Standing mere inches from Gale he planted his eyes in his.

“Is it true? Or were you trying to teach me a lesson?” He inquired.

“What… What kind of lesson?” Gale stuttered.

“Putting me in my place… so to speak?”

Gale smirked. Astarion had placed it. There was some kind of power play at hand. As the man stroked his chin Astarion had to refrain from lunging at him and rub his face in the scruff of his cheeks.

“Come now,” Gale said softly, “You are not an hardcore player I figured, but all are welcome in this game. That’s the beauty of it.”

He took a step closer, holding Astarion’s gaze, a hint of defiance animating his big brown eyes.

“However, If you roll a critical failure, I am going to play it out.” He added, “That’s the rule. Your dice rolls were simply terrible tonight…”

“I see.”

Astarion opened the little box and seized the die-twenty. He brought it up, and held it in between the two of them.

“Let’s verify that shall we?” He whispered.

Gale’s face initially betrayed his annoyance at Astarion’s manhandling of his stuff. But when Astarion began rolling the icosahedron suggestively between his middle finger and thumb, Gale's breath itched. His jaw slacked, his pupil blew out and a pearly tooth came to bite down on his plump lip. 

Bringing the fateful object to his lips, Astarion gave it a soft kiss.

“I want to kiss you now.”

Gale swallowed. Lip parted, half hooded lids, he was hazy with want. 

“Roll for it…”

Astarion let the die fall on the table. It tumbled for what seemed to be an eternity as it bounced roughly on its angles and apexes, its sharp corners clicking against the wood of the table. The two men were holding their breath. The roll finally came to a halt, landing steady on the hard surface. 15.

With urgency and passion, Gale and Astarion collided into each other's arms and their mouths crashed together in a heated kiss.  Astarion nipped at Gale bottom lip, the one he had teased him with earlier, eliciting a moan from the other man, that he felt vibrate in his mouth. 

Astarion’s hand grabbed Gale’s cheeks and neck and languidly made its way into the strands of his hair. He grabbed a fistfull and yanked his head back, revealing the blue roads that trailed down his jaw to his chest. 

His mouth slowly moved down grazing Gale’s bearded chin, descending and licking alongside the pulsing veins mapping his neck. He buried his face in the crook of his collarbone and sucked at the tanned flesh. Gale let out an outrageous whine that ignited a potent desire in Astarion's core. He could feel his hunger pooling in his abdomen as blood inflowed down south.

He tucked at Gale’s shirt and the latter took the hint, slipping the cotton garment off, exposing the hairy plains of his chest. Astarion brought a hand upwards and laid it out on Gale’s heart, feeling the soft fuzz under his palm, squeezing his breast. He was toned and firm. Quite an impressive form for a dork. This night had certainly taught Astarion a few lessons. One being the classical “thou shalt not judge a book by its cover”. The other, that DnD was way more fun than he had anticipated.

Gale claimed his mouth once more. He sneaked a hand under Astarion’s shirt, who understood the unspoken request, and in turn, removed it and sent it flying, discarded, on the floor. Gale’s thumbs flicker over the peak of Astarion’s nipple, causing a groan in response that only coaxed Gale on.

One hand still on Gale’s chest, Astarion began to caress downwards, fondling his belly, sliding lower and lower all the way down further to his mid center. He tentatively pinched at the hem of his trousers, brushing against the skin of his pelvis. He could feel a slickness had dampened the area.

Astarion stopped their kiss and reached out for the die once more.

“I want you to go down on me.” He said.

Gale looked at him hungrily and began to lower himself down, but Astarion’s other hand on his hair held him firmly in place. He brought the dice to Gale's lips. As his partner had done before, he kissed the die with lechery, eyes blown out and dark. 

“Roll for it…”

With a flick of the wrist Astarion threw the die. The pallet of triangles rolled across the table with speed, almost falling over its edge. Luckily it stopped its course just before it could plummet off and stilled within eyesight of the two impatient men. 18.

Gale dropped to his knee without hesitation. He vehemently undid the belt and fastening of Astarion’s jeans and worked him out of his underwear. Astarion’s erection sprung free, his cock hard and bobbing, already leaking at the tip, as evidenced by the telltale stain on his boxer shorts. 

Gale smiled at this lovely and appetizing sight. He grazed the warm and soft skin of his lips, leaving wet kisses along Astarion’s shaft and sending a shiver of excitement down his spine. Breath was knocked out Astarion’s lungs when Gale’s mouth closed on his member and slid across its length, taking him in full until the base, with an obscene gurgling noise. 

As he pulled away, Gale ran the flat of his tongue on the underside of Astarion cock before curling around his tip. He began to bob his head in and out in a steady cadence, at times disrupting it to plunge the whole damn thing down his throat.

Grasping Astarion’s wrist, Gale guided his hand back to his head, encouraging the man to take the lead and steer him to his own preferred rhythm. Wrapping his fist in the brown mane, Astarion set out to push decisively as well as thrusting his hips forward, hitting deeper and deeper in the tight pipe of Gale’s throat.

As he heard coughing below, Astarion slowed down an instant. He looked down at Gale. Drool was running down his chin, tears streaming in the corner of his eyes, hungry eyes that begged for more. What a magnificent sight he was. Greedy little thing. Not only a game master, but a headmaster as well. 

With every bob of his head, every swirl of his tongue, Astarion could feel himself approaching the edge. But he could not allow that. There were way too many things he still wanted to do. He delicately cupped Gale's jaw and guided him back up. He welcomed him with a kiss, tasting himself on the other man’s lips.  

Astarion then grabbed Gale by the hips, turned him around and pressed his upper body against the table. He trailed a path of kisses down the man’s back as he was undoing and pulling his pants down. With a teasing finger Astarion probed delicately between his firm cheeks down below. 

He felt the hole, warm against the pad of his finger and slowly drew circles around the area, massaging tenderly, attentive to the pretty music of Gale’s gasps and moans. Astarion spit in his hand and coated the soft entrance with the slick of his saliva. He tentatively pressed a knuckle inside. Gale hissed in pleasure, pulsing around the digit, threatening to swallow it whole. 

Astarion progressively pushed deeper, burying himself inside, exploring the sensual cavern, and prodding the sensitive gland that sent waves of pleasure in the pit of Gale’s stomach. After a few minutes of careful kneading, Gale was already falling apart. Twitching and whimpering with every curl of Astarion’s finger, so keen on being touched. Astarion decided to take it up a notch and inserted a second finger, scissoring inside with ease, Gale’s hip bucked erratically against his wrist.

Soon it became apparent that Gale was close to coming undone, while Astarion could feel his aching cock request his attention. As he took his hard self in hand, he started lavishly rubbing it up and down between Gale’s fleshy cheeks. Gale was rolling his hips in unisson, grinding his own member between himself and the table. His tip was leaking on the wood, and the pressure was close to hurtful against the hard surface of the table. 

Astarion pressed his leaking tip on the warm entrance of Gale’s body; he spit another long filament of drool which he spread generously around the area using his cock. Bending forward over Gale’s back, he nipped at his earlobe and let out a subtle moan into his ear, sending a jolt of electricity down the other man’s spine. 

“Do you want it?” He asked, pinning him down under his body, ready to penetrate Gale and Gale oh so ready to receive him.

“Please… Yes…” Gale’s voice came ragged and strained.

“Roll for it…” He ordered, squeezing Gale’s ass, spreading it wider.

Gale let out a disapproving groan. He crawled to reach for the die all the way across the table. He weakly shook the die a few times before dropping it next to him. Astarion laughed as he saw the fateful face of the die taunting him yet again. 1.

With a resigned sigh, Astarion pulled away from Gale, tucking his cock back in his briefs, the fabric tenting from the pressure of his erected sex. He pulled his pants up and picked up his shirt on the floor. Gale remained splayed on the table, dumbstruck for a moment. Eventually he propped himself on his elbows and turned around to face Astarion, incredulous.

“Really?!” He exclaimed.

Astarion shrugged, now fully dressed, throwing the strap of his bag over his shoulder, before approaching the other man once more. He planted a gentle peck on his forehead, then lower on his cheek, before claiming his lips with a sultry yet tender kiss. Breaking away he laid his forehead upon Gale’s.

“That’s the rule…” He said, before adding with a naughty smirk, “Your dice rolls were simply terrible tonight…” 

Before Gale could voice his protest, Astarion stifled his rants with his tongue. 

Pulling away from the kiss, leaving Gale dazed and disoriented, half naked on the dining room table, Astarion headed for the exit. As he seized the knob on the front door, he turned around to face the confused Dungeon Master he was about to leave, wanton, panting and ruined.

“Same time next week?” He purred, “I’ll get my own dice.” 

It promised to be an interesting campaign.

Read the rest in chapter 2!

[toskarin]

what warband mods would you rec? I only ever played vanilla warband years ago and that was probably on fairly low AI settings, but I'm definitely intrigued by getting the full feudal clusterfuck experience as well as indulging in some nostalgia.

there's a few qualifications to these, because I usually like them for different reasons and I have something wrong with me, but...

< ! PREEMPTIVE WARNING ! > you should be running modules in Warband Script Extender even if they don't say they need it! people have historically been really bad about clarifying when it's expected

Bannerpage - vanilla for people who want More of it, and then more after that. it reminds me of a spiritual successor to Floris Modpack. an enormous expansion that's also a bit of a tongue in cheek what-if for "Bannerlord, except as continued development of Warband" with increasing complexity. this one will probably spoil you a bit on other modules just because of how many little enhancements it pulls on the native systems lol

Prophesy of Pendor - the premier feudal fantasy rpg experience. this one is brutally difficult and throws some battles at you with genuinely bewildering enemy force sizes. I'd feel fairly confident in calling this the most difficult of the major total conversion modules that maintain core M&B gameplay

Touhou Gensokyo Warfare~the Castiron Flame - this is straight up glorious kusoge and I love it dearly. it often breaks so severely due to its own design decisions that it creates a unique high-skill gameplay expectation that exists in literally no other mods, but also it can't really be called "core" M&B gameplay anymore. this module actually consists of three chinese mods (Touhou Tinder, Touhou Origin, and Touhou Beat), one of which is derived from a fork that was extended by /jp/, another which was just translated by /jp/ (a shoddy translation but not distinctly a 4chan translation, if that's a concern), all of which were merged into one mod and managed by a passionate and cool chinese mod team. none of this comes to a consistent artistic vision. every single character looks like kigurumi cosplay and they all look like they're from different manufacturers. this is my favourite module. I could play it for years.

Perisno - a strange bird of a module that I don't see mentioned much anymore. a shame, honestly, because it's quite fun if you like higher fantasy settings. a bit overconfident with its own setting lore at times, but that really just makes it more authentic as a high fantasy setting, doesn't it? anyway they funnelled the mod development efforts away to a standalone game in the setting because of that, and I wish them well, but you know how it goes with that sort of thing

Gekokujo Daimyo Edition - a modification of an older warband module that was originally a touhou hijack that was originally a mod for the non-Warband game made by japanese players annoyed that nobody in the western playerbase was making mods with a japanese setting. it's buggy, it's incomplete, it will explode at you randomly, but it's still pretty neat. there's really no other mod out there that gives you such a thorough "I HATE THE TANEGASHIMA I HATE THE TANEGASHIMA" experience. Sengoku Era, a successor mod, will probably replace it on recommendation lists when it eventually releases.

Warsword Conquest - this is the Warhammer Fantasy mod. it has all the problems you'd expect from that. that being said, the sheer level of detail in this mod makes it more than worth dropping in to check it out. some of the environments are gorgeous enough to make Warband feel like an entirely different game, and with a surprising variety of firearms, the average campaign ends up being a pretty wild ride

Brytenwalda - I'm not recommending Brytenwalda as an experience, because it's actually not that good a very interesting moment in M&B modding history. Brytenwalda is the birthplace of a lot of mod tropes that became standard in mods going forward, namely most culture-related systems and the modern standard for module graphics. it also introduced tripping and represents the moment people started making really annoying attempts at jury-rigging balance into the game before Warband Script Extender came around and actually allowed them to modify the lower systems of the game. still kinda neat if you like historical settings, and definitely foundational enough to warrant a look

Last Days of the Third Age - infamously hard-headed in a way that only a mod for a feudal warfare simulator rpg made by Tolkien nerds who insist on book>movie aesthetics could pull off, this isn't really core M&B gameplay and is very rigid, but it's another case of something being so detailed and passionate that it's a fun experience anyway.

Solid and Shade - this is actually the best hardcore survival horror experience made for Warband, which is a bit like saying that Harvester is the best FMV game ever made about waking up in a town named Harvest. the Harvester comparison is more than surface level. the writing often feels like Harvester. this is one of the only modules (hell, one of the only games even!) I've ever seen that successfully pulls off the concept of corrupting players with the promise of immortality. it's a horror mystery where every single character creation option affects your longterm gameplay... but to provide a fair warning, reading the developer's commentary on this mod will sour you on it. the developer is an edgelord who just kinda kitchen-sinked horror elements in a way that reminds me a lot of Revolution of Terror (the old Well of Souls mod). the compelling esoterica and atmosphere seem to have been achieved largely on accident

[joannechocolat]

On why women’s rage is a superpower

My mother hates my new book. I gave her a proof just a few days ago, and although she’s still only halfway through, she can’t wait to tell me all the ways in which she hates my novel.

“Is this science fiction?” she says. (She detests science fiction.) “Were you ill when you wrote this?” (I was.) And repeatedly, she says: “Why are the women so angry?”

I get it. She’s out of her comfort zone. At 83, with no internet, no interest in pop culture and a deep-rooted hatred of anything close to horror or the supernatural, she wasn’t my target audience. And yet it’s never easy to hear such criticism from a loved one. But in some ways, she isn’t wrong. Broken Light is an angry book. It came from a time of lockdown, when social media was my only window onto the world. It came from a place of trauma, when I was fighting cancer. It came from a place of corrupt hierarchies, self-serving politicians, anti-vaxxers, Covid deniers, victim-blamers, and those eager to blame all their woes on minorities. And of course, it arose against the background of the #MeToo campaign and the Sarah Everard murder – a murder that shocked the nation, not least because the murderer turned out to be a serving police officer with a reputation for sexual misconduct - which unleashed a collective howl of protest, as well as an ugly, misogynistic backlash. Even so, my story came as something of a surprise to me: the story of a woman’s rage, and, on reaching the age at which women often feel least valued, her coming into her power.

It surprised me, most of all because I wasn’t an angry person. At least, I didn’t think I was. Those who know me describe me as someone who tends to flee conflict, who generally tries to find common ground, who gets upset when people fight. And yet, writing this story, I found myself saying and feeling certain things on behalf of my heroine, Bernie Moon; things I might not have said for myself, but which felt right and urgent, and true, and strangely liberating.

Anger has a bad press. A woman’s anger, especially. While men are encouraged to express feelings of justified anger, women are often criticized when they try to do the same. Angry women are often portrayed as “harpies,” “banshees,” “Furies.” It suggests that a man’s rage is righteous, but that a woman’s is unnatural, making her into a monster. Male anger is powerful. The God of the Bible is one of wrath. Seldom is he ever portrayed as expressing any other emotion. In the same way, men and boys are often led to believe that expressing emotion is weak - except for anger, which is seen as acceptably masculine.

In comparison, women are often criticized when they show aggression. Angry women are hysterical, shrill, out of control, unreliable, unattractive, unfeminine. A perceived lack of “femininity” makes a woman less valuable, less worthy of respect and of protection. The Press coverage of women victims of violence is a case in point. A victim of violence needs to be attractive, white, gender conforming and virtuous in every way if she is not to be overlooked, or worse, portrayed as somehow having contributed to her misfortune. When trans teenager Brianna Ghey was stabbed, the Press were very quick to state that her murder was not thought to be a hate crime, whilst at the same time obsessing over – and questioning - her gender. When Nicola Bulley disappeared, police felt obliged to divulge details of her struggle with the menopause, as well as her alcohol issues, even though this was privileged information and of no public relevance. When Emma Pattison, the Head of Epsom College, was murdered alongside her daughter, the Press immediately assumed that her husband George must have felt “overshadowed” and “driven to distraction” by his wife’s prestigious job. In all three cases, the victim falls under the hostile scrutiny of the Press, while the perpetrator is given an excuse. In all three cases, the victim – one trans, one hormonal, one better-paid than her husband - is effectively portrayed as “unnatural”. Subtext: Unnatural women do not deserve the protection of the patriarchy. Unnatural women come to bad ends.    

Once you start to acknowledge it, rage grows at a surprising rate. Over the past three years, I have found myself growing increasingly angry. Angry at the injustices committed by our Government; t the greed of corporations; angry at the prejudice extended to those who are different.

Connecting with others on social media has made me more aware of the lives and experiences of those from different backgrounds to mine, and with different levels of privilege. For a long time I’d been resistant to calling myself a feminist. Feminists are angry, I thought. What right have you to be angry?

Growing older, I realize that this was my mother speaking. A woman of a certain generation, who although she was aware of the challenges of living in a patriarchy, still had a level of privilege that many women do not share. White, professional, cishet women can sometimes have the luxury of choosing not to be angry. White, professional, cishet women can sometimes have the illusion of equality. But feminism isn’t only for just one kind of woman. A feminist must look beyond the limits of their own experience. And that’s where the anger really starts: anger at injustice; anger at corruption and lies. Most of all, anger at the prejudice against certain people for just being themselves; for being transgender, or Black, or old, or simply not conforming to what a white, patriarchal society expects and values. And once you start seeing injustice, you start to see it everywhere. It’s like an eye, which, once opened, cannot unsee inequality.

My anger flourished in lockdown. A time of growing divisions. Masks are invaluable in a pandemic, and yet they inhibit connection. They serve as a kind of reminder of who can speak, and who is to be silenced. While Boris Johnson was urging the public to trust the police, a vigil for Sarah Everard was broken up, with violence, by officers citing lockdown laws. While elderly people were dying alone; while I drove for four hours just to go for a half-hour walk in the park with my son; while I sat alone in my chemo chair, politicians were partying. Billionaires were enriching themselves. Behind the mask, the eye opened wide. I caught myself making faces behind my disguise at strangers. There was something weirdly liberating about this; as if, behind the piece of cloth, I could express myself at last. Not unlike writing a book, in fact. On screen, the eye opened wider. Bernie Moon, my heroine, was unlike like me in many ways, and yet anger connected us. The anger that comes from helplessness; from seeing others mistreated. Anger at a society that propagates inequality. And the anger that comes from hormones – those mood-altering chemicals that everyone produces, and yet which allegedly make women erratic; unreliable; hormonal.

In his novel, Carrie, Stephen King tells the story of a girl, whose telekinetic powers are unleashed by her teenage hormones. Carrie is unpopular, bullied, isolated. Her rage finds an outlet in her power. Driven to breaking-point by the bullies, she becomes a monster. Of course she does: after all, the author of this tale is a man, writing from the perspective of a couple of thousand years’ worth of patriarchal inheritance. In literature, a woman’s anger is unnatural; monstrous. It leads to terrible, unnatural things: makes murderers and infanticides of Clytemnestra and Medea; monsters of Medusa and Scylla. Unnatural, monstrous women are always punished in literature, even while acknowledging that they are often the victims of men. And unnatural women are often seen as physically repulsive – a reminder that, to be valued and loved, women must be young, and pure, and conform to the standards of beauty set out by their society. In literature, just as in life, those women who do not conform tend to be less valued, less seen, and when they do appear, do so as wicked witches, evil stepmothers, ugly crones and hideous travesties of womanhood.

But what would happen if a woman took control of the narrative? In recent years, we have observed a number of retellings of Greek myths from the point of view of the monster. Stone Blind, by Nathalie Haynes; Medusa, by Jessie Burton; Circe, by Madeline Miller. In both cases, the monstrous woman is seen from a different perspective; her rage absorbed and justified; her narrative reclaimed from a patriarchy that seeks to tame and subdue a woman’s rage, even at the cost of her life.

My new novel, Broken Light, comes from the same process of reclamation. It owes a debt to Carrie, but I have avoided the explicitly paranormal theme of the original, as well as the girl-on-girl bullying and the psychopathic mother. In my version, Carrie lives; marries her childhood sweetheart; internalizes all her rage and suffocates her power. Until the menopause – a topic which until recently has been largely misunderstood and taboo – at which point her power returns, and with it, a new kind of freedom. Freedom from the male gaze; from the responsibilities of motherhood; from the largely impossible expectations of society. Unlike puberty, menopause is triggered by a lack of certain hormones; and yet the symptoms can be just as dramatic and isolating. Loss of libido, exhaustion, depression, emotional outbursts as well as unpredictable and alarming hot flashes – my version of Carrie’s pyrokinesis. Whether my heroine’s powers stem from any kind of paranormal source is very much up to the reader to decide – after all, paranormal is only a step away from unnatural. And what counts as unnatural is in the eye of the reader – an eye that has been opened, I hope, to a series of new possibilities.

One is that rage is natural. Living in a patriarchy, women have a right to their rage. In fact, it seems more unnatural to me when women are not angry, given how much misogyny remains in our society. And growing old is natural. Being hormonal is natural. Differences are natural; so are disabilities. All women matter; whatever their age, or colour, or sexual orientation, or marital or reproductive status. The value of a woman’s life should not be defined by her popularity, or her age, or her looks, or her kids, or her value to the patriarchy. And no-one else gets to decide what a woman ought to be. A woman is not what, but who - a person, not an object; an active participant in her world. Women have lived too long behind the mask. They deserve their own stories. Stories in which they are allowed the full range of human possibility. So, to answer my mother’s question: Why are the women so angry?

Because it’s a superpower.

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

MDZS Notes + Analysis — Chapter Two: “Reincarnation”

Three main things stood out to me when rereading this chapter: the theme of status, our intro to WWX, and the information we’re given about his state after death.

…Well, four things, but the other one will get its own post.

The theme of status is immediately introduced* with ‘MXY’’s treatment and the backstory of MXY and his mother, yet again showing just how well MDZS’s ideas are integrated into the text and how well it’s paced! You’re introduced to every important theme so, so early on. Two screenshots are analysed below:

(See: entitlement of the upper classes towards the lower classes, and how this can exist even between members of the ‘same family’; and arguably the idea of debts between a richer family and someone who was 'taken in'. There are a surprising amount of parallels between MXY and WWX, but I'll make my own post about that)

(See: once again, differences in status between members of the same family, and also the worse, and disposable, treatment of one daughter because she was "the daughter of a servant". Now, why does that phrase sound familiar...?)

Also, MXY's mother was sixteen when she attracted JGS's attention... if you somehow needed even more material to hate the guy...

We also get introduced to WWX’s personality(!), which immediately disproves the rumours from last chapter on how he'd cast the world into ruin:

(That's one of the first questions he asks after waking up – I love how he's so concerned about this! It shows us two important things, too: 1) Morality is important to WWX, and 2) Doing immoral things seems to be out of the ordinary for him. Both of these stand in direct contrast to the picture of WWX we were painted earlier!)

(Same thing here, along with showing us some of the (healthy!) pride WWX has – he wouldn't be offended at this if wasn't something he held as important within himself)

(I use this quote again, but here it's once again proving that the vengeful, evil WWX who'd sink the cultivation world into "nothing but chaos and despair" at the first chance he got... very much does not exist.)

(And finally, it's explicitly confirmed here that he's not the type to take exessive revenge and take pleasure in it... at least at this point in time, because. MXY definitely had reason to think this considering Sunshot!WWX, if everyone had been working from the truth. But importantly that isn't who he is now, and isn't who the WWX villified by the cultivation world was – imo that's including Nightless City, we'll get to that when I reach it. But note that actions during the Sunshot campaign aren't even mentioned in the prologue, because, shock, they actually helped the cultivation world win the war! Though that doesn't mean they weren't part of rumours + the WWX hatred mill later.)

Then some non-morality related things:

This is just really funny to me, with how the makeup being badly applied (:o) is enough of an issue to merit a thought – WWX I love you.

And then this way of thinking comes back a few times esp during the earlier chapters, enough to be noted I think.

Confirmation on WWX's status after he died – it's not anything new to point out, but this chapter does give us rare insights into what state he was in during the post-death, pre-rebirth period.

So, he was somewhat conscious, enough to be aware of what he was(n't) doing – seeking vengeance, haunting the living – and was seemingly in control of those actions. However, he was specifically a "wandering ghost" – his soul didn't pass onto the afterlife or "return back to Earth"** like the body-offering spell's caster's would. He was conscious that a long time had passed as well, and this long period of downtime where he could accept + deal with what happened in his first life is what likely allowed him to be so well-adjusted the second time round – even taking into account the remarkably good way he tends to deal with things in general (cue the "forgetting the wound when the pain fades" quote, it summarises WWX's mindset really well)***.

Also, as for resisting the summons from the prologue – I'm wondering how much was due to WWX's experience with resentful energy + general capability (if that affects it..?) allowing him to consciously refuse, how much was due to WWX not being the type to hold onto resentment (so possibly spells targeting ghosts, full of this resentful energy, wouldn't be as affected?), and how much was due to the relative lack of knowledge about how ghosts/resentful energy works compared to WWX. Or, if it was something else. Either way, achieving the impossible, that's WWX for you :D

It is interesting that he hasn't heard a voice in ages despite wandering, too – do ghosts just not hear the same way, or did he deliberately avoid areas with people? I could see both, the second being more likely, especially considering how many people wanted to summon him back for... less than stellar purposes.

Misc:

Poor Mo Xuanyu....

--

*Well, reinforced – in the prologue, one of the things said about WWX is that "if not for the YunmengJiang clan’s adopting and teaching him, he would have been a hobo living on the streets", which is among the insults people throw. So of course, class-affecting-perception is tied to WWX from the very beginnning! But this is the first time it's actually explored, not a throwaway line.

**Though that may be what's literally happening to WWX's soul here – it is wandering around Earth – I don't think that's what this line refers to. There's a very good meta on how different translations handled that line, I really recommend it (tysm @/mxtxfanatic for finding it)!

***It would be very interesting to read a fic where it felt like no time had passed for him since his death, actually! Though the extremely stressful circumstances are gone, it would still be interesting to see a WWX for whom the Siege, Nightless City, Qiongqi Path etc are pretty recent – but only in fic territory, since I'm so, so glad we got the WWX we did in canon. Also, I'd love to see a fic maybe exploring some of his time as a ghost...?

[whateversawesome]

SxF Chapter 91: Perspective, History, Empathy

Let me start by saying that I didn't think this chapter would make me so emotional. Was it the same for you?

A small side character like Millie, who we saw only as one of Yor's annoying co-workers, turned out to have a very sad backstory and gave us a glimpse of how things are for young people in Ostania.

This chapter talks a lot about people understanding and misunderstanding each other. Millie was just talking about her own experience and feelings, she was explaining why it was so difficult for her to help during an event like this, and that lady felt personally attacked because she saw things from her own point of view and her sufferings.

In no way the story discards any of those ladies' sufferings; what they went through during the war was very difficult, I'm sure. Nevertheless, comparing their sufferings and demanding Millie to act the same way just because they were able to do it, it's not right.

They both had different experiences because their circumstances were different, so they face life in their own way. That's exactly Yor's point.

Here, Yor demonstrates her best quality (and one of the many reasons why her husband fell in love with her): Emotional strength.

I've said it before and I'll say it again; Yor is a very emotionally intelligent character. The way she stood up for Millie displayed all her emotional strength. She called out that woman in such a smart way!! She wasn't rude but her words were true and very wise.

One of the most important things Yor mentions is that we cannot bear the same load because we're different. And I couldn't agree more👏

Also, if we take it as a metaphor, Yor is such a strong person because she carried a very heavy load: as a child and an orphan, she had to take care of her brother. Because of this, a naturally kind person like her had to learn to murder in order to survive.

It was a beautiful chapter. On top of everything, we learned a few important things:

1.Yor did lose her parents during the war and because of the war.

2.Donovan Desmond did NOT start the war. But plenty of young people like Millie don't know that, so it's possible that since he was Prime Minister during most of the war, he gets blamed for starting it.

3.Donovan Desmond is hated by many. That's probably the reason why he's no longer in office. And it also wouldn't be surprising that the majority of people in Ostania who voted against him want to move on from the war.

3.Melinda still wears her wedding ring and, even though she's separated from her husband, she still counts him as an important person for her. I guess, you can hate a person's actions and opinions, hate what they have become, but care about them at the same time...their marriage is complicated.

4.Not only Yor and Twilight fear the SSS because of their jobs. The general population do too because they know rich and powerful people can make them disappear regardless whether they are spies or not. That means arrests and disappearences of innocent people are common.

5.There was a repression during war time. This means the state controls and restricts certain rights of its citizens. When war happens, the state may determine it's necessary to protect their country and citizens. Chances are that policing of others started then and Ostanians got used to living like that.

And now some questions:

Was Melinda being sincere? In my opinion yes (for the most part). Melinda is no longer campaigning for her husband. In fact, she's going there incognito. Since her husband is no longer the Prime Minister and they don't have any elections to win, she doesn't have to support this types of events. If you think about it, once a politician retires from the public eye, their spouse generally goes back to their normal life.

Something that caught my attention was that it was mentioned Melinda has a lot of enemies; probably because her husband has a lot of enemies too. If that's the case, it would be easier for Melinda to move abroad, where she could have a care-free life, yet, she has chosen to stay in Ostania. Why?

Melinda is still a very mysterious character. We don't know her plans or intentions. We don't know why she separated from her husband. My only guess is that she's suffered a great deal and that's why she's able to empathize with Millie, even though their experiences are different.

What do you think?

Bonus (to end on a light note):

This is the Sxf when we see Yor 😄