#which means poor Eddie is going to have to deal with the both of them throwing weird dick hypotheticals at him

[solarmorrigan]

The boundaries of Steve and Robin's friendship quickly become all but nonexistent. They can talk to each other about anything, ask each other about anything

And Robin has questions

She's never seen a dick before, has no real intention of seeing one in the future, and finds the concept of them both mysterious and weird. But she can admit to a certain amount of academic curiosity about how they work. And then she remembers that her best friend, Steve, is A Guy™ and could surely answer at least some of her questions

Meanwhile, Steve, due to the aforementioned lack of boundaries, has all but forgotten that he never actually came out to Robin as trans. He's been merrily carrying on just assuming she already knows

These two facts collide one day at Family Video when they're both idly watching some mindless teen movie they've put on for the day while waiting for customers to show up. They reach what seems to be a very contrived skinny dipping scene, which makes Robin think, and she turns to ask Steve, "Hey, do dicks float in water?"

And Steve, without even looking away from the screen, shrugs and asks her, "How the fuck should I know?"

It takes half a minute of silence for him to realize that Robin is staring at him with no small amount of bewilderment and concern

(They later come to the agreement that they'll just have to wait and see if Steve ever gets a boyfriend, and then ask him all their dick-related queries)

[honey-flustered]

Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

Older!Eddie photo edit by: @/eddiemunsons-missingnipple

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ���86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fully by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

[imfinereallyy]

Dinner Date

For STWG daily drabble and, more importantly, for Goldie @steventhusiast. Happy Birthday, you deserve the world. I know you’re asleep right now, but it’s technically still your bday here. 

“Dingus, this is a really fancy restaurant.” Robin leans back in her chair, but her hand plays with the fork on her napkin. 

Steve sips his wine; some of it tips over the edge onto the tablecloth. “What? Can’t a guy take his best friend out to a fancy dinner?” He tilts his head and takes in his best friend. What was once an awkward teen now had a beautiful, but still awkward, woman in her place. 

“Steve, I love our friend dates, but usually they take place in a greasy diner or dollar pizza.” Robin picks the fork up and starts twirling it into her napkin. Steve watches her get mesmerized by the wrinkles that wrapped around the silverware, even though they both know the napkin should be in her lap by now. 

Steve smiles softly, moves his napkin from his lap to the table, and begins to mimic Robin. “Okay, maybe I wanted it to be a special occasion.”

Robin giggles at Steve's poor fork-twirling form and leans over the table to fix it for him. “All occasions are special when we are together, so that doesn’t really mean much.” Robin’s nose scrunches in concentration as she gently guides Steve’s hand. She has done this plenty of times before, guiding Steve where he needed to be. Like taking him to the bookstore near her college so he wouldn’t have to go into sex with Eddie blind, or when she taught him how to whisk eggs properly. Both are equally important skills he now uses in his everyday life. “But you seemed nervous. You keep sipping your wine, and I know for a fact that you hate dry wine.”

Steve puts down the glass that was halfway to his mouth, “It’s not my fault Moscato tastes like candy!”

Robin snorts, “Seriously, Dingus. It’s just me. What’s up?”

Steve puts down the fork and his glass and looks Robin in the eye. “I wanted to ask you to be my best man.”

Steve expects a lot of reactions out of her: excitement, an eye roll, hell, even straight-up rejection. Maybe a little speech about how weddings for them aren’t even legal. Instead, a look of betrayal crosses her face. “You asked Eddie to marry you, and you didn’t even tell me you were proposing?”

Immediately, Steve clenches his stomach in outrageous laughter, nearly having to bend over the table. Steve tries to take Robin seriously; he really does. But she is supposed to be the smart one out of the two of them. 

Rage takes over Robin completely as she reaches over the table to start slapping Steve’s arm. “Don’t laugh, you asshat! I am actually mad at you!”

“Ow—” Steve laughs. “Ow, Robin!” Another giggle escapes him as he gets her to sit back in her chair. “I’m laughing because, of course, I didn’t propose to Eddie without talking to you first.”

Robin settles a bit at this, “I’m confused.”

Steve reaches for her hand across the table; Robin doesn’t hesitate to wrap her fingers around his. “I’m asking you to be my Best Man first, doofus. Before I even pick out the damn ring. Which I definitely need you to steal one of Eddie’s rings for me so I can get the size; man watches those things like a hawk.” 

Robin squeezes his hand, “Wait, why would you ask me that first? Isn’t that kind of backwards.”

“I do everything kind of backwards, babe. Kinda the Steve Harrington special.” Steve rubs a thumb against the back of soulmate's hand. “Of course, I ask you about being my best man first. There would be no wedding without you, so if you say no, there would be no proposing.”

Steve could see tears beginning to fill Robin’s eyes, “What are you saying?”

“Whoever gets stuck with me gets stuck with you. We’re a package deal, babe.” 

Robin throws herself across the table, knocking the wine everywhere. Steve laughs and clenches her tightly. “Of course, I’ll be your best man! Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t hurt yourself going down the aisle.” She sobs.

Steve’s throat gets thick, “Pretty sure that’s the father's job, Robs. And you’d have to fight Jim for that role.”

“Fine.” Robin sniffs, leaning back to look him in the eye. “But I get stand by your side as you make a complete fool of yourself with your vows.” 

“Deal.”

Robin leans forward, placing her forehead against Steve’s. “You and me against the world, babe.”

Steve hugs her tight, “You and me against the world.”

[lokirulzart]

WILD WEST AU!!!!

You ever notice that when fools do a western AU, they cheap out on the horses or ignore them entirely??? WELL NOT HERE, FOLKS. ONLY THE HIGHEST QUALITY HORSE CONTENT. BECAUSE I LOVE Y’ALL AND ALSO HORSES.

Frank has a snooty Appaloosa because he’s fancy, but also appaloosas are reliable trail horses, so that means he can go bug collecting without worrying much. His insect collection is the envy of all the rich collectors in the whole county.

Wally ended up with a chestnut Arabian mare, because Wally is too small for a bigger horse and I just think it’s funny. HANG ON THERE, PARDNER!! SHE’S A WILD ONE!!! Luckily, Wally is usually unaware of his own horse acting up, and the mare ends up tiring herself out just because Wally simply doesn’t even notice her… he’s too busy spacing out. But he’s one of the best Bronco Busters around thanks to her!

Hunter/trapper/fur trader Barnaby has himself a lovely Shire mare with a sweet and patient disposition. She has no trouble carrying whatever Barnaby has hunted as well as big ol’ Barnaby himself… but he still feels bad about making her work, so he only ever hunts what he needs to in order to get by.

Julie and her mustang are BOTH wild. Julie had the chance to tame her, but instead she just fed off of her spirited energy and now the two of them just tear around being crazy together, getting into trouble, rolling in the dust… Julie wouldn’t have it any other way.

What better steed for a Pony Express postal worker than a sure footed mule?! Seriously, mules are the mountain goats of the equine world. Eddie’s mule might not be as fast of a sprinter as some horses, but this animal can trek over ANY terrain, ensuring that all of the mail gets delivered on time. They have yet to miss a single delivery.

(Snake oil) Salesman Howdy Pillar has a general store in town as WELL as a covered wagon to travel around, ensuring that everyone gets the best deals on their pork ‘n’ beans, biscuits, tobacco, and tonics. You want it? Howdy’s GOT it… and his team of 3 dapple gray Connemara ponies, and one brown one, will make sure that you can get it… also the tallest character having the smallest horses makes me giggle.

Poppy doesn’t have a rideable horse yet, which is perhaps for the best. She spends a lot of time at Howdy’s general store or riding in his wagon. She is his best customer. But she has recently come by a thoroughbred foal that she is now raising from a bottle. So perhaps one day very soon Poppy will have her own tall and elegant steed to carry her around… let’s just hope he’s not too fast for her.

Sally is a performer at the local saloon by night and helps out with cleaning during the day… she knows NOTHING about horses… but one night, after all the local drunks went home, a poor American Paint got left behind. Nobody came back to claim the animal, so Sally boards him at the local ranch and visits often. She hopes one day to learn how to ride him, but it’s slow going. She is, after all, a singer and actress first.

AND THEN HOME THE SALOON!! YOU DIDN’T THINK I’D FORGET HOME, DID YOU?? He has a small stable in the back and a second floor, where Wally lives! Wally gets to spend all his free time hanging out, meeting up with his friends, and drinking all the apple juice he wants! (Just don’t tell him it’s apple juice, he’ll get confused. He thinks he’s just drinking whiskey like everyone else. It’s easier this way.) Also Home is the only saloon that can kick out belligerent drunk people itself!

Also Bonus OCs, Luna O’Hare the bilingual cartographer (created by @m0stlygh0st) and Simon, my boy, the ranch hand! Luna has an Andalusian that she likes to dress up, braid it’s mane, and stick flowers in it-… as snacks for later. They’re also grazing buddies and Luna can often be found eating the horse feed because it’s so similar to rabbit food. Simon has a gelding Quarter Horse with golden retriever energy and not a single braincell to his name. Poor Simon… but at least his horse loves him.

YEEHAW!!!! 🤠

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Four - Boiling Point

W/C: 7.4K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, slight SA (groping), drinking (if I missed anything please let me know)

A messy night and several unfortunate events.

A/N: This one got a little long but it was so fun to write, chaos is really fun to coordinate but my poor babies are taking the brunt of it all woops

Masterlist

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Working nights had flipped your entire sleeping schedule upside down.  Two weeks had passed since that first evening where you worked an entire shit show and you still weren’t accustomed to resting in the afternoon in preparation for the night shift.  It didn’t seem like such a big deal seeing as the bar thrived around three nights a week and remained quiet to steady the rest of the time but with a staff of only four, the workload piles up.  Tossing and turning on the couch, you groan, longing for a peaceful sleep that would energize you.  The bed wasn’t doing you any justice which is why the couch sounded that much more appealing but as it turns out they both had the same effect.  

Keeping you awake.

Now, there wasn’t anything remotely wrong with either one however, you just couldn’t seem to get comfortable enough to find that blissful sleep you were yearning for.  

You were restless.

What didn’t help was the incessant shredding of an electric guitar next door.  The high pitch clawed at your ears and echoed throughout the canyon your house was settled in.  You could either suck it up and muffle the sound as best as you could with a pillow, or you could confront your noisy neighbor and politely let him know you were trying to sleep in order to fuel yourself to run his bar.  Confrontation was not your specialty and you would avoid it by any means necessary.  But it couldn’t hurt to just ask him to stop.  The worst he could do is laugh in your face and slam the door.

And that would be enough to turn your blood hot, not in rage, but in shame and embarrassment.  Maybe it was best to tuck your sweaty and fidgety body back into the couch for long enough that the imprints of the rough fabric would show up as indentations on your skin.  Hopefully the shrieking of the guitar would eventually fade away and become background noise in your dreams.  

It never did stop.

–

“Jett, could you please toss me that rag?  Major spill at table four.”

It was 6:00 PM, Friday night.  Just about every table and every stool was occupied, a competitive game of pool provoking many men to yell at the top of their lungs, causing your ear drums even more grief than the endless guitar solos you had to endure earlier.  On top of it all, drunk people on a Friday night were not easy to clean up after, several spills inevitably happening on your watch, with more than enough evidence to back your claim up.

“I’ll get it, you go on your break.”  Jett advises.

The Bourbon was nearly at capacity, a majority of the town’s regulars seated along the bar and even more of its residents engaging in their pre-weekend activities.  The people of Knife’s Edge were rambunctious or at least, that’s the only side of them you’d seen so far.  Most likely because they were all getting hammered.  Maybe you should get out more?  Then you could see their personalities sober and not glazed over with the confidence of alcohol.

“You sure?”  You ask sincerely.

Jett didn’t even have a second to glance up at you from the beers he was collecting, a whole round of them for a table of five men roaring with laughter.

“Yeah, if you don’t take it now it’s only going to get busier and you never will.”  He yells over the booming music.

“Okay.”

You’re reluctant to leave him alone but you trust his judgment, seeing as he has no issue making that call.  And customers seemed to love him, joking back and forth until he practically dragged himself back behind the bar.  They hadn’t seemed to take that kind of liking toward you quite yet and the only compliments you received were gross comments from older men that slurred their words, you respectfully dismissing yourself to tend to other customers just to escape.

Quickly, you make your way toward the back through the narrow hallway that leads out to the alley.  The bar had become stuffy, too many humans populating the small space, prompting a much needed break for a breath of fresh air.  Almost reaching the door, a haven that would relieve your sweat coated skin with a crisp breeze, you collide into something firm, a deep grunt coming from the source.

“Watch it, Bambi.”  Eddie barks, glaring down at you.  He holds an unopened bottle of tequila, knuckles white as he tightens his grasp.

“I-I’m sorry.”  You stutter, taken back by his stern voice.  It was for the most part, always stern but this time it was especially disapproving.

“Where are you going?”  He asks, brows furrowed.

“My break.  Jett just–”

“Your break?  Now?  I need all hands on deck right now, take your break in like thirty when it calms down.”  

A vein in his neck looks as if it’s about to pop, stress evident in his entire demeanor.  Even his lips are bitten and red from what seemed to be constant tugging from his teeth.  Maybe he needed a toothpick to chew on instead?  Maybe that’s why he chewed on them in the first place?

“Well I–Jett just sent me on break.”  You reason.

“Jett?”

“Yeah.”

He breathes in deep, head tilting toward the ceiling as he exhales through his mouth, clearly trying to maintain his calmness.  Although it always seemed like he was going to blow up and cause a scene when he got like this, he never did.  

“Jesus Christ, kid’s gonna give me an aneurysm.”

Walking down the hall toward the commotion of the bar, he shakes his head, curls bouncing and that famous frizz framing his head like a halo.  You keep your movements halted, feet glued to the floor in confusion as to whether you’re meant to follow him or actually go on your break.

“So do I–do you want me to take my break or–”

“Just go.”  He calls back, this time a calmer tone detected in his voice.

If you were meant to do the opposite in some sort of reverse psychology moment, you didn’t.  The cool air called to you and you were going to use all ten minutes to bathe in it, and reset your nervous system.  Eddie could sweat in your place for the time being.  

Things had been easier since that first shift; the cook, Randy, had returned and said that he left in the heat of the moment, explaining the following day that he lost his cool and was so certain he was going to quit.  Then he came back to his senses and realized how unrealistic that was and that he was in no position to be searching for a new job right now.  He was on the verge of begging for his job back but what you’d heard from the back office was Eddie telling him not to ‘pull that shit again’ and to ‘get back to work’.  No further discussions or arguments on the topic ensued since that day.

The chilly Autumn air brushed against your cheeks upon stepping out the door, not too much of a bite to it yet but enough to warrant a slight shiver.  The sun had already set just over an hour ago, darkness already enclosing the surrounding world.  It felt empty and devoid of life, but not in an apocalyptic way, but rather in a serene kind of way.  It was quiet except for the whisper of leaves of the birch trees in the wind.

This place still felt so far from home and your loneliness was still as prominent as ever.  You worked, went home, slept, woke up at around 10:00 AM, fixed breakfast, attempted to go back to sleep, failed and sometimes visited Donnie at the supermarket, and repeated.  The routine was sad and you might as well have been a grouchy old woman that no one spoke to or went near, not a twenty something year old who should be making the most out of her life.  The locals weren’t unfriendly, you just couldn’t seem to fit in.  Jett was the closest thing you had to a ‘friend’, although he was your coworker and some may see it as mandatory that he remains friendly with you.  Outside of work you had little to no interaction with others, usually opting to stay in and clean or watch reruns of some shows you had pre-recorded on a collection of VHS tapes.  It’s not to say you didn’t enjoy your nights in, you just wished you had the option to call someone up to hang out or make plans every now and then.

Ten minutes flew by like it was seconds, the door leading inside swinging open unexpectedly and smacking against the concrete wall, Eddie’s head poking out in search of you.  

“Excuse me, do you work here?”  He asks sarcastically.

You control the urge to roll your eyes, having a better sense of his antics in the past two weeks and knowing that no real consequences would apply to you under these circumstances.  You still maintain the need to react to his dramatics and remind him that you were helping him out just as much as he was helping you.  But you push it down and straighten your posture.

“Yes.”  You reply, eyes staring up at him with a hint of resistance.

“Could’ve had me fooled.”  He snaps, ducking back inside.

Following him, you finally give into the urge to roll your eyes behind his back.

“I timed my break just right.”  You notify him, glancing at your watch.  “I was about to come back.”

“You’re a minute late.”

Instead of allowing you a chance to argue with him, he jumps right back into action and starts clearing off a vacant table.  The rush hadn’t stopped all night, table after table being cleared only to immediately seat a new party.

After he strides off with a pile of glasses and a few plates, you get to work on wiping everything clean.  It was a newfound system, a plan that hadn’t been agreed on by either of you but was understood regardless.  With how understaffed the bar was, it worked like a charm.  

Jett’s main role was behind the bar but every now and then he would catch onto whenever you and Eddie were running behind and he would swoop in to take care of a table or two.  Recently, you learned that the other bartender, Pete, had quit and skipped town about a week before your arrival, making it that much harder to keep up with the demand of the customers who regularly chose The Bourbon to decompress at.  So now it was only you, Eddie, Jett, and Randy running the whole place.  It turned out not to be too bad of a gig, weeknights were slow enough and Sundays the bar was closed, leaving Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays as the busiest nights of the week.  The tips were decent enough as well.

Especially from those creepy old men which was an unfortunate situation you could do without but hey, it helped pay the bills.  If you ignored their advances and didn’t completely reject them, they’d leave behind a nice tip.  It felt icky, pocketing the money but the more you thought about it, the more compelled you felt to take their money.  If they were going to waste your time, you might as well be compensated for it.

One man in particular had been lurking at one of the corner tables, purposely opting out of the bar seating to instead have a higher chance of you waiting on him.  He must have been in his sixties and had an unnerving stare that just made you want to hide back in the kitchen.  You failed to inform Eddie, simply because he didn’t need further reason to see you as dainty or incapable of holding your own.  

So you gulped down your fear and put the blinders on as best you could.  

Just take his order and get it over with.  Then you can move on with your night and hopefully he’ll be out of here soon.

And right off the bat, his disgusting mouth started running.  Something about ‘can a pretty little thing like you get me a drink?’.  Then a few more unsolicited nicknames with a smirk and some remark about how good your body looked.  Something you didn’t care to hold onto in your mind, you only felt the need to take a shower.

As you rounded the corner of the bar and got to work making the pervert’s drink, you found yourself lost in thought.  Thoughts about if he found out where you lived, you may be done for.  It was a small town after all and it wouldn’t be difficult.  

“Hey, you good?”  Jett asks, shaker in hand, concern obvious in his knit eyebrows.

“What?”  You’re pulled out of your mind, shaking your head as if to lure yourself back to reality.  “Yeah, I’m fine.”  You assure him.

He nods but his expression shows that he’s not very convinced.  You finish off the drink you’d been absentmindedly making, a scotch on the rocks while offering Jett one more reassuring smile before making your way out from behind the bar.

Like you were throwing yourself back into the lion’s den, you approach the man’s table, hoping to quickly drop off his drink and be on your way.  If only life were ever so kind to you.    

“Thank you, sweetheart.”  A disgusting grin paints his face and just before you can mumble an ‘mhm’ and rush off, an unwelcome hand gropes your ass, sliding down, down, down.  You can’t see his face but you know he displays the most revolting smirk following his actions.

With a yelp followed by a gasp, you freeze.  Paralyzed, you aren’t sure how to move forward, how do you recover from being reduced to a piece of meat?  Flesh to be gawked at and held onto without permission.  An object to be handled.

“I-I’m sorry but—“  You begin to stumble over your words but never get the chance to say much more when the sound of a chair screeching against the wood floors, arguably worse than nails on a chalkboard, is heard behind you.

Upon turning around, you’re met with the sight of your boss shoving the repulsive man toward the door by the collar of his mustard stained shirt.  Eddie's strength shows despite his lean figure, appearing to have no trouble in maneuvering the man where he wants him against the door.

“What the fuck was that?”  Eddie bites, nostrils flaring as his cheeks seem to heat with a hue of red.

“Listen—“

The man’s hands are thrown up in surrender but it’s apparent that wasn’t the true intent behind his actions.  An excuse was on the tip of his tongue before Eddie cut him off, not an ounce of patience left.

“What.  The.  Fuck.  Was that?”  He repeats, grip tightening on the shirt collar, face inching closer to the man as a means of intimidation.

“Just a little flirting, she was into it.”

You can’t help but grimace at the pathetic attempt to cover up what had actually happened.  And it seemed that Eddie didn’t take too well to that answer either, further pushing the man into the door if even possible.  The scene had drawn the attention of almost the whole bar, a sea of eyeballs glued to the altercation about to happen, your very being flushed from embarrassment from the mere idea of being the source of all of it.  Had you walked away quicker, it would’ve gone unnoticed and you could’ve gone on with your night, leaving everyone else undisturbed.

“Yeah?”  Eddie cocks his head to the side, his chest heaving.  “Didn’t seem like she was into it to me.”  

“She was—“

“I wasn’t fuckin’ asking.  She wasn’t into it.”  

If looks could kill, the guy would be erased from existence with no trace of life left behind on Eddie’s account.  His big brown eyes showcased pure rage, a distinct difference from the annoyance and the fiery glare he’d cast on you every so often, especially when you would forget to pile up the dishes his way.  No, this was far more devastating and should you one day be the recipient of his aggressive stare, you’d be reduced to tears on the spot.

“Now you’re gonna get the hell out of my bar.  I never wanna see you again—“

“Listen man, I’m not—“

“I’m fucking talking.”  Eddie growls.  “You get the hell out of here and never come back, you hear me?  And you better fucking hope I don’t catch you pulling some shit like that again, I will kick your goddamn teeth in.”  He promises.

Confrontations like this were not something you were familiar with, always running off before things got too far.  You suppose that’s why people feel it was okay to use you as a doormat.  It always feels easier to drop it and walk away, ‘be the bigger person’ or whatever they say.  Even if it actually meant making you feel like the smallest person on earth.

All the back and forth and frequent swears with intention of aggravation had labored your breathing, your chest struggling to allow movement, feeling like a straw was delivering air to your lungs.  Just when you’d attempt to swallow a big enough breath of air, it would all go to waste and only provide just enough oxygen to get by.  A cold sweat threatened to spill from your hairline, your palms clammy to match.  The murmurs and whispers of witnesses had your eyes darting from person to person, suddenly all too aware of the life you were living.

Too human.  

You don’t remember another word exchanged between the two men and you certainly don’t remember how you managed to claw your way to the bathroom amidst the turmoil.  But here you were, staring into the dingy mirror with no purpose other than to escape.  And it wasn’t working.  Suddenly the lights were too bright and the room was too small, but it was secluded and that's what mattered.  Having some kind of an episode in front of the entire bar would be far worse, having an episode alone where prying eyes cannot dissect your every movement and reason for being is the better option.  It wasn’t often that your mind went to this extent when being faced with a challenging situation but when it did, you didn’t find it easy to come out of.

You heard your name floating somewhere in the bleach scented air but couldn’t quite bring yourself back enough to recognize who required your attention.  There was a head peeking in at the door after some frequent knocking and though you kept insisting you were okay and just to give you a few minutes, the individual seemed to have reason not to believe you.  

“Hey, Ed!”  He called behind him.  It was Jett.  A sweet and scared out of his mind Jett from what you could decipher through squinted eyes and blurred vision.  He was obviously being faced with unfamiliar territory, I mean who is ever prepared to talk someone down from an anxiety attack in the middle of a shift?  Panic was evident in his voice just as much as it was evident in your whole body.

“Eddie, I need some help!”  He yells again.  “Hey, you okay?  What happened?  Do you need–”

“Move over.”  You hear Eddie mumble before the door swings open, the hinges squeaking painfully.  “You’re asking too many questions.”  

With a swift shut of the door, Jett hurries back to attend to the several customers awaiting service.

“Listen to me, Bambi.  You gotta breathe.”  His voice is smooth, a huge contrast to what you’d just heard moments ago. 

When your legs begin to feel wobbly, as if you were a calf taking its first steps, you slowly lower yourself to the ground, a sturdy hand wrapping around your upper arm to support you.  

“In.”  Eddie inhales, though you can only hear him since your eyes are shut so tightly, your eyelids might rip.  “Out.”  He exhales.  “C’mon, breathe in–”

“Is she oka—”

“Jett, fuck off for a minute.  Please.”  Eddie begs, clearly fed up before returning to his newfound gentle tone.  “Can you look at me?”  He diverts his attention back to you, Jett taking the hint and shutting the door, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Eyes squeezed shut, you shake your head.  Your body shakes involuntarily, the anxiety becoming even worse when you try to contain it, like it wants to jump out and strangle you.

“Okay, okay.”  He attempts to soothe.  “You wanna get some air?”  He asks just above a whisper.

“I-I dunno.  ‘M sorry.”  You manage to choke out, sniffling.

“Okay, no big deal.”  He sighs, running a hand down his face, not out of irritation but more so exhaustion.  “Let’s get you outside, it’s too hot in here.”  

Before you can protest, he’s wrapping an arm around your shoulders and supporting the majority of your weight against him, walking you out of the bathroom and out the door into the alley.  The chilly air bites at your skin and thankfully, reality slowly starts to return again.  

“Try breathing again, in and out.”  Eddie encourages.  

You nod, jaw locked tightly both from the cold and from the paralyzing anxiety coursing through your veins.  Your teeth feel as if they could crack at any second, the pressure from you biting down too immense but you can’t bring yourself to unhinge your jaw.

“In.”  Eddie coaches, exaggerating a large breath, his chest rising with the motion.  “Out.”  He exhales through his mouth, his breath visible in the air.

He continues the breathing exercise a few more times, you following carefully as things become clear again.  And from all that had just happened, all you could gather was that you were a huge baby who couldn’t handle a rogue customer.  You weren’t capable of holding things down when it got rough.  

Pathetic.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know–I don’t know what happened–”  You try to make sense of it all, failing miserably.

“What happened was some pervert copped a feel and we don’t play around with that shit here.”  

Anger is obvious within his expression, even more so when he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one hastily.

“Did you…”  

The question is on the tip of your tongue however, you won’t let yourself say it at the risk of sounding even more like an injured bird.  

“What?”  He asks, kicking around a few pebbles, the cigarette hanging from his lip before he brings his fingers up to grab it and inhale.  His brows are knit together, still beyond bothered by the dispute that just occurred.  

“Nevermind.”  You mumble.

His gaze meets yours, lashes casting perfect shadows just over his cheek bones in the warm lighting of the street lamp and once again, among all the darkness that pools in those chocolatey irises, there is a twinkle.  Barely noticeable but still there.  

“What?”  He urges again, voice monotone.

“Did you…did he…?”

“Did I fuck him up?”  He asks, brows raised.

You nod bashfully, a hint of fear flashing in your eyes.

“No.”  Eddie scoffs.  “I should’ve though.”  He flicks the ash from his cigarette toward the ground.  “Motherfucker.”  He mumbles.  

“Why didn’t you then?”

It was too forward and you had no business asking.  Really, it just tumbled out, off of your tongue, barely a thought behind it before it was too late.  Now you were just asking for a reaction, not a good one at that.

“It was either that or let Bambi suffocate in the bathroom.  Gotta pick your battles.”  He gestures toward you, shrugging.  

It wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, you were bracing for a bigger explosion.  Waiting for him to tell you to get back to work and to stop asking questions.  But he didn’t.  He just continued to kick little pebbles around on the pavement, his boot scuffing along the surface as he smoked.  He looked relaxed for once.

“Oh.”  You reply, staring down at your own shoes.  “I-I’m sorry.” 

“Is apologizing like…your hobby?”  He questions, shoving his other hand into his pocket.

“Well–uh no, no–”

“I love that you’re out here having bonding time but I’m a one man show in there and I need some supporting acts.”  Jett interrupts, the door creating a gust of wind and then flooding you with temporary warmth from the air inside.  “I at least need Eddie.”  He pleads.

Nodding frantically, you begin to make your way back inside, Jett already speeding off to resume his duties.

“Hey, you okay to go back in there?”  Eddie asks, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out.  “You can take another minute–”

“I’m fine.”  You insist.  He didn’t need further evidence that you were frail and incapable.  Whether it was intentional or not, he had bruised your sliver of self-confidence.

–

The rush was finally over, the last of it being a party of ten which left a table full of dishes to be delivered to the kitchen for washing.  Each plate was stacked in your palms, piled high as you worked one hand out from underneath to add on a few cups, cutting down on the amount of trips you would need to make.  You’d blocked out the vile events that occurred earlier in the night, at least until you had time to cry about it to yourself which when working at The Bourbon, there was never time for that.  So it would have to wait until the drive home.  Maybe you’d even save it for the shower where you could truly release all of your emotions in peace, no judging eyes or risk of a car accident.

Successfully stacking a few cups among the tower of plates, you spin on your heel, making your way toward the kitchen as the others cleaned up, Jett wiping down the bar and kicking out the lingering drunks, and Eddie cleaning up the mess that the pool table had become.  It was 1:00 AM and if everyone did their part, you’d be out of here by at least 1:30.  Tensions had been high all night, one inconvenience after another occurring, only adding onto everyone’s stress and only giving more incentive to clean quicker and go home.  A broken glass here, a messed up order there.

The kitchen door is just in reach and when you push into it with your shoulder, all of your calculations fail, the pile of plates collapsing as they hit the door frame rather than dodging it like you intended.  Each plate crashes against the floor, shattering into pieces, a few of the cups also breaking on impact.  It was the icing on the cake of a bad night, the final straw and your reason to burst into tears and yet you don’t.  

Not yet.

Not here.

A total of four eyeballs watch in shock, two more joining in as Randy, the cook peeks out from the kitchen door.  Though the tears didn’t burst from your eyes quite yet, they did sting, they stung horribly.  You could feel them brimming at your waterline, just a centimeter away from trickling down your cheek and exposing you as the biggest crybaby in the world.  If it wasn’t already apparent.

Do not cry.

And if it wasn’t already bad enough, Eddie seemed to completely reverse his gentle attitude you’d become suddenly accustomed to earlier.

“What the hell.”  He glares, slowly approaching as he sets a few glasses back down on the pool table.  “Do you watch where you’re going?  Do you have eyes?”  He asks.

You don’t dare answer, frozen in place as your nerves tingle in panic once again.  You don’t feel real.  You feel as if your spirit has risen from your body and is watching over the conversation playing out.

“Now I’m out what–ten or so plates?  Do you know what it costs–”

“Eddie.”  Jett tries to take control of the situation, taking notice of your watering eyes.  And unfortunately so does Eddie.

“What–oh, you’re gonna cry?  What did I tell you?  I told you this job wasn’t for someone like you.”  Eddie snaps.

He was bitter, unpleasantly bitter like a shitty cup of coffee.

“Eddie, stop it.”  Jett tries to defend you, though you wish you could defend yourself so you didn’t seem so pathetic.

“I told you I can’t babysit you–”

“I know.”  You manage to quietly sob, bending down to start collecting the broken pieces.  There’s an awkward moment of silence, the air thick with tension and anticipation of more insults.  All you can do is wait.

“Just leave it, just–leave it.”  Eddie sighs, running a hand through his bangs.  “Just go home.”

The demand isn’t necessarily an insult like you’d imagined but it still feels backhanded.  Like he was telling you ‘I told you so’ and rubbing it in your face.  As if he gave you a chance with the means of preparing for this moment, the moment you fucked up even slightly.

“I’m gonna get the broom.”  Jett says, eyes wide as he scampers to the back.

Staring up at Eddie, large pieces of plate collected in your hand, all you can make out in his eyes is outrage.  Downplayed outrage that hadn’t fully escaped yet and you didn’t want to hang around long enough to witness it.  He was capable of much more than he was letting on.

“If you can’t handle–”

“You know Eddie, you’re just mean.  You’re being mean.”  You declare through a frown, internally screaming at yourself to keep it together, to not let a tear spill over.  He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of watching you cry.

“Did you know you never even asked for my name?”  You swipe underneath your eyes, catching any tears that longed to trail down your cheeks, displaying your distress, instead wiping them on your apron.

His unkind stare lets up, eyes softening ever so slightly.  

Too late.

“I’m not a person to you.”  You drop the shards from your hands, standing up to head toward the back for your things.

“Wait–”

If he kept talking, you didn’t stick around to hear it.  You scooped up your bag from the rusting lockers toward the back of the kitchen, tucked away in a corner before striding to the front, toward the bar.  If he thought you were some kind of an entitled brat that needed babysitting then you were going to give him more than he bargained for.  Granted, you weren’t thinking straight either, the stress of the night only adding up and creating an outburst you would otherwise bottle up.

Grabbing a shot glass from under the bar, you reach for one of the nicer tequilas, something smoother that wouldn’t burn as much.  Tequila always put you in a good mood and never gave you a hangover.  Filling the shot glass, you don’t even bother looking over at Eddie or Jett, who was now sweeping broken plates into a dustpan.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  Eddie hurries over, staring you down.  All you offer him in response is a shrug before tossing the liquor back.

Refilling the glass, you sneak a glance over at him from across the counter, his jaw dropped in shock and his face red and flushed with anger.  Steam was nearly shooting out of his ears.  The second shot is thrown back and your muscles begin to relax, anxieties melting away even at the basis of creating more problems.

If that wasn’t enough for him, you finished it off with a third shot, hoping it wouldn’t be too much all at once.  You were brave enough to look right into his eyes, daring him to say the wrong thing.  

“What are you doing?”  He asks again, calmer but still heated.

“I’m just acting how you think I should.”  You answer, a fake smile painted across your lips.

“I’m not comping those.”

His focus burns into you, lips in a tight line as he watches.  If looks could kill.  For the second time that night.  Except this time, you were on the receiving end and had you not been three shots in, it would’ve terrified you and had you apologizing profusely.

“Well, I’m not paying for them.”  You say, pouring yourself one more for good measure, swallowing it like it was water.

As you go to make your big exit, you’re faced with a harsh reality.  You’re definitely drunk, or at least very close to being drunk as the alcohol consumes your body, and you’re definitely not driving home like this.  You did not think this through.  But you kept walking anyway through the kitchen and out to the back just to lean against the concrete wall pathetically.  You were starting to wish that you’d gulped down some water before leaving to aid in sobering up.

If the sight of you leaning against the wall behind a bar at 1:12 AM wasn’t sad enough, tack on the fact that you had finally let the waterworks flow, your drunk self especially susceptible to your muddled emotions.  

“Bambi, what the fuck.  You gonna drive?”  Eddie emerges from the kitchen door leading outside, seemingly cooled down but you still don’t trust it.

“Don’t call ‘m Bambi.”  You slur. 

“What are you doing out here?”  He ignores your protest.

“‘Jus gimme a few minutes.”  You whine, eyes shut as if it would make him disappear.

“No, not a few minutes.  You’re not driving.”

You never intended on driving but you were finding it difficult to fight him off in your discombobulated state, willing to say anything to get him to leave.  Obviously he had the upper hand at this moment, clearly able to outsmart you.

“I know.”  You wail, tears on full display for him.

“I’ll drive you, let me get my keys.”  

“Nooo, wha ‘bout Jett?”  You ask, wiping away your tears, mascara coating your fingertips.

“Jett doesn't live right next door to you, you’d just be making him go out of his way for no reason.”

Snot dripping from your nose, you glare up at him, earning an expectant stare from him.  All you can do is roll your eyes, too drunk to care anymore.  You still preferred having Jett go out of his way, at least he respected you as a person.  But the argument was lost among gargled thoughts and a short term memory.

“Still mean.”  You insult, finger poking at his chest harshly.  It doesn’t do much.

It feels like hours that you two are staring at each other, likely due to the alcohol running through your system.  He hesitates in running back inside, even if just for a few seconds to grab his keys, his eyes looking you over in concern.  A muttered ‘be right back’ is heard and then he’s gone.

The stars catch your attention, drastically brighter than they would be back home, many more of them too.  A few stand out, gleaming in the sky and making them that much more admirable.  Your mind drifts off to thoughts of the Milky Way, swirling around the universe and ultimately making you feel infinitely smaller and more insignificant.  

What was your place?

Eddie steps back out, keys twirling around his fingers, straight-faced, not an ounce of amusement in his handsome features.  Glancing at him briefly, you then tilt your head back up toward the sky, dazed and almost in a trance.  If you weren’t careful, you could’ve been staring at him like that.  But you weren’t that drunk.  

Or so you thought.

Thinking about it, you must have been the spitting image of insane; mascara smeared across your face, tears glimmering in the moonlight, and your bottom lip set in a perfect pout like a child waiting to get their way.  Your bag was twisted around your body in the most uncomfortable way but you couldn’t find it in you to untwist it and realistically, you should be wearing your jacket but instead its clutched in your fist, the cold pricking at your skin and eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms.  The chattering of your teeth interrupted the silence and played as the soundtrack of your hazy daydreaming.  

It also let Eddie know that he needed to either force you to put your jacket on, or get you in the car.  And he knew he wouldn’t win that first battle so ushering you to the passenger seat it was.  

“C’mon.”  Is all he says, huffing out a breath.

You vaguely recall being helped into the passenger’s side but you don’t remember walking a few yards to actually reach the car or if you were even able to do so on your own.  From what you could tell in your state, his car was a beaten up thing, kinda old but it smelled like those little pine tree air fresheners.  

Once the scenery outside started to move, all thoughts subsided, the only one left was solely to keep yourself from vomiting all over your boss’s car.  You would stoop as low as to drink his most expensive tequila but vomiting all over his carpeted floor was another low you wouldn’t dream of wishing upon anybody.  

Trees zoomed by and you were sure you were going cross eyed from trying to keep up with each and every one.  Some metal song plays through the speakers but in your own little world, you hardly hear it, still subconsciously bobbing your head to the fading beat.

One minute you were sitting content in your dream land, the next Eddie was shoving something into your hands while urgently pulling over.  Your mind hadn’t caught up to what was happening yet however, you could vaguely make out Eddie yelling at you to aim for the bag while you stared directly into said bag.  When you glanced over at him, everything felt as if it were in slow motion and again, he was panicking while yelling at you to ‘puke in the bag!’.

The perfect cocktail of a situation for an individual so reserved and so inexperienced with this much attention.  At least most of it would be a blur by morning.

–

“There you go, just grab my–shoulder!  Ow!”  Eddie complains, your fingers a bit too comfortable with digging into his skin through his cotton shirt as you attempt to hoist yourself up into a standing position from the passenger seat.  

Home was only steps away and then you could collapse wherever you pleased.  Forget about this stupid night.  At least until you awakened as your regularly anxious self.  You’d have a few hours of drunken bliss to forget about life but that’s all you were allowed.  Then you would need to face your consequences, whatever they may be.  Come the morning, you most likely wouldn’t have a job anymore, Eddie would probably come knocking at your door and let you know that you blew it.  And he’d probably laugh in your face at the fact that you proved yourself to be too weak, too dainty, as he so adamantly proclaimed before.

“Oh no.”  You mumble, feeling yourself wobbling, knees giving out underneath you.

“Whoa, whoa, okay!  You’re fine, you’re fine.”  Eddie stabilizes you, arms around your waist.

Your limbs might as well be Jello at this point, rendering you a useless human unable to even stumble to your destination.  It dawns on you that you can’t remember if you even actually puked in the car or not.  Was it coating his interior or had you shoved your head in the bag just in time to spew your guts?  Or did you bravely swallow it down?  Whatever the case, Eddie doesn’t seem to currently have any grievances or any trouble touching you so you must have been somewhat responsible about it.

Your weight depends on him, leaning into his chest as he practically carries you toward the house.  Your eyes flutter repeatedly and—your question of whether you had already puked or not is quickly answered as the contents of your stomach spill out and onto his shirt before you’re able to aim for the ground.  Humiliation was starting to look like your middle name.

As you dry heave and allow a long string of saliva to drip from your mouth while hunched over in the dirt, you hear Eddie muttering several curses.  You think for sure he’s going to ditch you for creating such a stir up throughout the night until his boots come into view in front of you, his hand pulling the hair away from your face as you finish emptying your stomach.

“Okay.”  He sighs.  “Puke it out.”  A hesitant hand smoothes over your back, the lightest touch.

The smell of putrid vomit invades his nose, nausea threatening to take over him as well if he didn’t hold his breath.  Try as he may to ignore the chunks of god knows what on his shirt, it was still all that was on his mind.  He didn’t even want to chance looking down if there was the slightest possibility that it had also gotten in his hair.  Even being covered in your sick, he knows he should be fuming.  But he’s not and it's all so puzzling.  

You marched your ass behind his bar and consumed more tequila than you could handle which in turn forced him to drive you home and then you vomited all over him.  If that’s not enough reason to be pissed beyond belief then he doesn’t know what is.  Yet he remains calm and collected, running his hand between your shoulder blades as he soothes you throughout your dry heaving and gagging.

“It won’t–oh god–it won’t stop.”  You sob, looking up at him, a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva coating the lower half of your face.

You look repulsive and yet he can’t tear his eyes away from you.  The prettiest definition of repulsive he’d ever seen.

“Don’t hold it back, let it all out.  You’re only gonna feel like shit if you hold any of it in.”  He instructs, kneeling down to meet your eye level.

With a few sniffles and hiccups, you nod.  Only now you’re hyper aware of being watched.  It was a sobering experience, puking right in front of your house, not able to even make it to the nearest toilet while your boss spectates and–oh.  

It hits you that the front of his shirt is caked in your puke, bile soaking the fabric while remnants of your late lunch displays itself on his perfect black shirt.  You would never live this down and you would certainly never work another shift at The Bourbon again.  Even if he did scream at you for no good reason, you took it a few levels too far.

“Y-your shirt, oh no–”

“Relax, okay, Bambi?  I can handle a little puke, now where’s your key?”  He asks.  

It’s not that he could handle a little puke, he had to.  Because what good would it do if the two of you were both throwing up in your front yard?

Attempting to answer him, the rest of your stomach interrupts and unexpectedly spews all over his combat boots.  As if the night couldn’t get any worse.

“Shit.”  He mutters under his breath.

“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry.”  You whimper, glassy eyes staring up at him with regret.  “I din’t mean it, I swear, m’ just–”

“I know.”  Eddie exhales.  “You done puking, is there anything else left in there?”

Shaking your head in sorrow, a few more hiccups escape your lungs but there are no further signs that you’re going to be sick again.  Even if you were, it didn’t matter anymore, Eddie was already well acquainted with your vomit, what harm would a little more do at this point?

As you start shuffling through your bag and patting at your pockets, panic settles in and you can only recall that the last place you’d seen your keys was at the bar, where you set them down to spitefully gulp down as much tequila as you could.  Now it was biting you in the ass, hard.

“Left my keys at the bar.”  You pout pitifully. 

Eddie glares at you, rightfully so.  The man was covered in foul smelling vomit, kneeling on the ground, taking care of you.

“Fucking christ.”  He mumbles.

~end~

Masterlist

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiemunson95 @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean@micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels

[lemotmo]

I’m honestly really worried right now with how nasty this has all gotten so fast.

I feel so bad for Oliver. His entire storyline he’s waited years to tell has now completely been hijacked from start to finish thanks to Lou and his cult.

The disgusting things being said about Oliver. About Ryan. The show itself. All with Lou liking and engaging with them playing up the poor me card with them.

Like they are literally demanding Oliver be written off the show as punishment and any future Buck scenes they already filmed scrubbed out. I saw a few say deport Ryan back to Mexico and then write Eddie off by sending him to Texas permanently and send Buck with him. Some saying Lou should have been kept on and Oliver let go.

Like it’s all insane. And none of them deserve it because they didn’t do anything wrong. No one misled or promised or lied. They have been open and transparent about BT from the start. Tim literally said at the very beginning this was an entry level relationship. No wedding bells.

I’m also getting worried the network is going to pull the plug on buddie because even if it’s not us doing it, they might not wanna deal with the insane blowback these people are causing and will cause when buddie happens.

Don't worry Nonny. Like I said before, Oliver will be fine. Ryan will be fine.

Oliver has disabled comments on his post on Instagram because he knew exactly what was coming. They are both probably avoiding social media right now, but I'm also certain they'll be back as soon as the worst is over.

The show never made any promises about BT. On the contrary, they made it very clear, since day one, that Tommy was there to be a plot device. Eddie was all over the BT narrative in both seasons. In season 8 BT were still in the same place they ended in season 7. There was no growth whatsoever. Also, there was no buildup at all for them. Tommy just existed next to Buck in episode 5, but there wasn't one single sign of physical affection. Even in episode 6 there was only a cheek kiss. It reminded me of Eddie kissing Ana when he returned home after the shooting. A single cheek kiss. We all know how that relationship ended.

I wouldn't worry too much about the network. It seems bad right now, because they are all being loud and obnoxious, but the BT fandom is actually quite small compared to the Buddie fandom and the general 911 fandom. Their voices will be drowned out by all the positivity in the end. These BT stans will stop watching the show, but it won't even make a dent in the ratings. There's only a few hundred of them.

I checked Instagram and I've already seen so many positive comments, saying it was one of the best episodes of season 8, praising all the actors and crew for their hard work.

So don't worry. ABC knows exactly what Buddie could mean for the show. It would most definitely increase the popularity. Bi Buck already brought in a lot of people (some of them who have already left us again since Thursday evening), but a lot of them are here for the bi representation and they are here to stay.

So imagine how crazy things would get if Eddie would turn out to be not so straight after all and very much in love with his best friend? And Buck finally figuring out who he really wants?

The episodes leading up to them finally getting together would draw in so many new people who heard that those two 'gay firefighters from 911' are finally getting together after 7 loooong seasons.

ABC doesn't care about a few hundred people throwing a tantrum under a social media post. They do care for ratings and making a profit. That's it.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Tell you one thing though: After what he has done? Lou will never ever work on anything for ABC again, which means that we won't ever see him back on 911 and that's a beautiful thing. 😏😆

[rosenrot234]

Sort of sequel to that post about that specific theory with James.

While I don't think he was assaulted. I do think he at least had schizophreniform disorder. It's like schizophrenia but only lasts around 1 to 6 months.

Because"present day playable" James really doesn't have the usual symptoms of schizophrenia. ( Unless all the weird noises we hear is actually in his head and not the town doing it. ) Like he's going THROUGH it obviously.

Symptoms include even stuff like poor hygiene. I get why people thought "Oh he doesn't want to be naked because he was assaulted" but he could just straight up not give a damn about bathing. ( He keeps his gross poo sleeve for AWHILE after that one toilet puzzle )

Heres what I was looking at. Now if all the spooky noises James hears is just all in his head instead of Silent Hill messing with him, then yeah that sounds like a full schizophrenia diagnosis but I'm just some nobody on the internet. I can't obviously diagnose lol

This could also explain or at least be another explanation for Maria showing up. But Maria is just a buncha shit. You could interpret her existence in so many goddamn ways.

The "self inflicted injury" mentioned in said theory could also just be James performing self harm out of paranoia. Like some of the memos that mention tearing off skin etc etc.

I know I said the theory still had a bit of meat to it, these are all just gentle responses against at least some parts of it.

James and his reaction to Abstract Daddy could just be "lets just use the footage from the actor even tho the camera is behind them for this shot". They wouldn't hide something THAT important behind the player actually manipulating the camera. That's nonsense.

I feel like the "similar darkness" Ito mentioned with Angela and James was just their trauma having sexual elements to it. Angela with her dad and brother. James with his obvious lack of intimacy. And / Or guilt at possibly finding other women attractive when he still obviously loves Mary. "Similar darkness" doesn't mean "exactly the same purely". Silent Hill has James fight the Abstract Daddy because to me its basically going "are you like this man?". Just like its trying to warn him to not go down that path. The town does the same thing with Eddie with asking James "This you?" at the whole "MURDER IS GREAT!" thing with Eddie. ( Which is deliciously ironic because James is going "NO" as they then kill Eddie in self defense )

Adding to this real quick: I also like to think the reason Silent Hill keeps having James bump into Angela. I think the towns trying to show her in its own fucked up way "not all men are bad" ( which is ironic because its using James. Who I do not consider evil but this is complicated ) . Having James kill Abstract Daddy to see how both James and Angela would respond to it. Like a "ooo two for the price of one!" deal

[munson-blurbs]

Kinkmas Day 2 (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Argyle)

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), threesome, oral (m! and f! receiving), handjobs, fingering, protected p in v, drug use, language, use of pet names

WC: 2k

Kinkmas 2022 Masterlist

--

Christmas Eve 1987 starts like any other holiday: spending time with your friends and avoiding as much familial interaction as possible.

“God, this blows,” Eddie exhales, permeating the air with the smell of weed.

“I mean, it’s not as good as the Cali shit, but it’s not the worst strain I’ve ever had, bro,” Argyle shrugs, taking another hit before passing the joint to you.

“No, dumbass,” Eddie snorts.”I meant the whole holiday season thing, joy and cheer and blah blah blah.”

You stifle a laugh, trying not to choke on the smoke you just inhaled. “Calm down, Scrooge,” you tease. “It’s not that bad.”

“You didn’t grow up watching kids get all of the cool things you wanted while your uncle barely scrounged up enough cash to buy you new sneakers,” Eddie retorts. 

“Maybe you’ll get something good this year,” you say nonchalantly, thinking of the gift you got him: a lighter with EM and a music note engraved on the side.

“Yeah, maybe,” he mutters, reaching for the joint again. 

“Well,” you start, “I have something special for each of you.” You giggle when their eyes widen. “Not that, you pervs!”

Eddie points at Argyle. “Look, you got his hopes up; poor guy.” He laughs. “Maybe got something else up, too.”

“Shut up, dude!” Argyle chastises him, leaning over you to give him a shove. A blush creeps into his cheeks and he rips the joint from Eddie’s hands angrily.

“Whoa, chill!” You’ve never seen Argyle this defensive before. “Arg, he was just kidding. Besides,” you add slyly, “you know this horny bastard would get with either of us if we gave him the chance.”

Eddie holds his hands up in defense. “Don’t go spilling my secrets now!” The high has clearly set in for him, which means he’s got even less of a filter than usual. “Anyway, ‘s not like people can’t see you making heart-eyes at her all the time.”

This time, Argyle gets to his feet and grabs Eddie by his jacket collar. “I said, shut the fuck up, man!” he hisses. “We had a deal!”

“What deal?” you ask, prying his fingers off of Eddie. It wasn’t the first time you’d had to break up an argument between them, though usually Eddie was the one trying to get to Argyle.

Argyle sighs. “Well, since someone decided to blab everything anyway, I might as well divulge this precious information.” 

This time, Eddie’s the one scrambling. “Don’t you dare–”

“Eddie and I both wanted to ask you out but we made a truce and now neither of us can get with you!” Argyle blurts out before Eddie tackles him.

“Boys!” you yell, stopping their antics immediately. “What if…what if I said I liked both of you?” Wow, you’re really high.

“I’m sorry, what?” Eddie gawps.

You sigh, wishing you could rewind time and take back what you’d just said. “Never mind,” you mumble. “Let me take another hit.”

“No, I think we need to discuss this further.” Argyle sits back down next to you. “So you would sleep with either one of us?”

“Sure, yeah, but not if it’s gonna cause you two to beat the shit outta each other.”

Eddie frowns, furrowing his brows. “What if you didn’t have to choose?”

“Like…both at once?” You bark out a laugh incredulously.

The boys look at each other and grin. “We’re down if you are,” Argyle says with a shrug.

“Oh-okay,” you murmur. That’s all the encouragement Eddie needs; he tilts your chin and kisses you deeply, making your legs tremble. “Maybe we can go inside?” you suggest, motioning to Eddie’s trailer door. You know Wayne is at work, which means you’ll have the place to ourselves. 

The three of you sit on the couch; Eddie on your left, Argyle on your right. You feel Eddie move your hair from behind your ear and press wet kisses down your jawline. “This feel good, princess?” he asks softly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Your gaze lands on Argyle, seemingly frozen in place. “Arg, you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, “just didn’t ever think this would happen.” He swallows thickly, fidgeting with joint between his fingers. That gives you an idea.

“Take a hit, but don’t exhale yet,” you instruct him, trying to focus while Eddie’s hands roam your body. Argyle does as he’s told, and you lean in so your lips brush his. “Now, blow the smoke into my mouth.”

He opens his mouth and you mirror him, inhaling deeply as your tongues graze one another. You feel him start to relax, letting go of whatever insecurities he held onto.

“That’s it,” you coax him, taking his large hand in your smaller one and guiding it to your tits. “Touch me wherever you want.”

He’s gentle at first, running a thumb over your clothed chest in awe, but quickly begins groping you hungrily. He toys with the hem of your shirt, suddenly shy again, and you pull it over your head with a smirk.

“Dude,” Argyle breathes out. Eddie can only see your naked back, and he pulls you around by your shoulder to get a glimpse of what Argyle’s eyes are glued to.

“Holy shit,” he groans, throwing his head back. “Can’t believe you’ve been holding out on us, keeping these perfect little tits covered up this whole time.”

“Didn’t…didn’t know that you wanted to see them,” you manage dumbly, and both of the guys just grin in response.

“Hey, um…” Argyle pipes up, and you turn your attention back to him. “I wasn’t done.” He hooks a thick finger around your belt loop and pulls you closer to him, wrapping his pillowy lips around one of your nipples. It pebbles as his tongue flicks over it. Eddie busies himself at your neck, harshly sucking bruises into the sensitive skin. You whimper at the overwhelming stimulation; you’ve gotten hickeys and been fondled before, but never at the same time.

“Fuck, princess,” Eddie coos, “if you make those pretty noises, you’re gonna have to help me out here.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him gesture to the erection pressing against his jeans. 

“Bed,” you moan out, taking their hands in yours and guiding them to Eddie’s room. Argyle snuffs out the joint in a nearby ashtray as you pull him along. “Off,” you point to their pants, tugging off your own as quickly as you can.

Eddie starts to palm himself through his boxers, but you move his hand and replace it with your own, making him hiss at your touch. “C’mere,” you whisper to Argyle, and you do the same to him. There’s something utterly powerful about having them in each of your hands, knowing you control their pleasure.

Argyle’s lips press against yours. He pushes your panties aside and slides a finger inside your wet cunt, making you cry out. “That good?” he murmurs into your mouth, and you pump his cock faster in response.

“Argyle, man,” Eddie whines, “you can’t have her mouth and her pussy. Y’gotta share.” You pout as Argyle breaks the kiss, but his lips are quickly replaced with Eddie’s.

“You know what would be fun?” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eye. “If you ate her out while she moans into my mouth.”

Argyle’s on his knees and pulling you towards the edge of the bed before you can muster up a response. He looks up at Eddie and asks, “y’got a hair tie or something?” Eddie nods, tossing one from his cluttered nightstand. You watch as Argyle pulls his hair off of his face and into a messy ponytail.

“Y’look really fucking good like that,” you whimper as he parts your legs.

He smiles at you, and you can’t help but beam back. “Between your thighs, or with my hair back?”

“Both.”

You mewl when his tongue flicks over your clit; he’s methodical in the way he fucks you with it. Your hips buck up slightly as he quickens his pace, and Eddie’s voice growls in your ear. 

“Make those pretty noises f’me,” he orders. You greedily accept his kiss, keeping your hand wrapped around his stiff cock. He gets harder each time you whimper into him. “Just like that,” he muses, “but I think you could be louder, hmm?” He brings his gaze to Argyle, who is hungrily lapping at your pussy. “Arg, is that pussy schmackin’ or what?”

He knows what he’s doing; Argyle can’t hold back his laughter, sending vibrations through your body and making you scream out their names. “Eddie, don’t make him–fuck, Arg, you make me feel so fucking good–”

“Cum on his tongue, princess,” Eddie says, pinching your nipple between his strong fingers. “Show him what a good job he’s doing.”

Argyle takes the opportunity to suck on your clit, and you cum harder than ever before. Your legs are trembling when he detaches from you, wiping his mouth and grinning. “Never tasted such a perfect pussy in my fuckin’ life, dude.”

“Need…need someone inside me,” you pant, glancing between the two of them. “But you need condoms; I’m not carrying either of your idiot spawn.”

“Noted.” Eddie reaches into his dresser drawer and pulls out a gas station pack of Trojans. “Fuck!” he groans. “There’s only one left.”

“I c-can take one of you in my mouth,” you offer pleadingly. Argyle fucks his fist slowly, and you get on your hands and knees and lick the the tip of his cock teasingly. “You want that?” you ask knowingly.

“Mhm,” he hums, sweat beading along his brows. “Wanna see your beautiful face, please.”

You take his length in your mouth, tracing along the vein with your tongue. Eddie spanks you with his own sheathed cock, pushing down on your upper back and tilting your hips upwards.

“Y’ready, princess?” His erection glides along your folds. He pushes into you gently, practically splitting you open. “So wet for us; aren’t you, pretty thing?”

“Mmm,” you agree, mouth full of Argyle. Your answer reverberates around him and he thrusts into you harder, holding onto a fistful of your hair. Eddie pistons himself inside you; your ass cheeks clapping against his pelvis with each buck of his hips. You’re filled with your two favorite boys, and you couldn’t be happier–or more turned on.

“Gonna cum,” Argyle chokes out. You open your throat as he coats the inside of your mouth with his warm, sticky ropes. He gently pumps a few more times to bring himself down before you release him with a small pop, swallowing his release.

“Y-you didn’t have to do that.” He brushes his thumb along your cheek and smiles. “You’re so good for me–so good for us,” he amends, looking at Eddie, who is biting his lower lip and grabbing your ass so roughly that he’ll likely leave bruises behind. 

“Almost there,” Eddie mutters. “Cum with me. Can’t let him be the only one gettin’ you off tonight.”

“A little faster, Eds,” you tell him, and he complies, bringing a ringed finger down to your sensitive bud. You feel yourself clench around his dick, your release imminent. 

A string of curses leaves your lips, and Argyle kisses you as you finish. “There ya go, baby,” he coos. It might be the first time he’s called you a nickname besides bro or dude, and you can’t say you mind at all.

Eddie’s hips stutter as he cums into the condom, smacking your ass one last time for good measure. He pulls out slowly, tossing the barrier in the trash, and the three of you crash onto the bed.

“Did–did we really just do that?” Argyle wonders aloud.

“Sure fuckin’ did,” Eddie answers, still trying to catch his breath. “Now the only question is, who was better?” He turns to you and smiles sweetly, impatiently waiting for your reply.

“Obviously, it was me,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “The two of you were putty in my hands. Literally.”

The two of them nod in agreement, too fucked out to argue any further.

Your eyelids feel heavy, and you find yourself slipping into sleep between them. Argyle’s arm is wrapped around your waist, while Eddie’s nuzzled into your breasts. You press a quick kiss to each of their cheeks.

“Merry Christmas, boys.” --

[shrinkthisviolet]

5+ headcanons for an AU where Barry actually manages to tell Iris he's in love with her the night of the particle accelerator like he intended (right before getting struck by lightning, he's so bad at timing)

He really is, poor guy 😭

He works up the courage for months…and when she says, “There is nothing that I want more than for you to find the right person who loves and adores you for the amazing guy that you are”, he replies, “what if I already have? Iris…I…I love you.” “Aww, Barry, I lo—” “No. Not like that. Well, I mean…yes, like that, but also…not like that.” And he launches into a confession much like the one from 1x9 (without mentions of Eddie because ofc at this point, neither of them has interacted meaningfully with him). Before Iris can respond, someone steals her laptop, they chase after the thief, and Eddie beats them to it.

They both go back to the station, and Barry goes back to his lab—Iris insists on going with him, but Eddie wants her to give a report, and Barry can’t stick around to wait with sensitive evidence he needs to process. He promises Iris they’ll talk later, and she reluctantly agrees. And then he gets struck by lightning for 9 months

So…naturally, with Barry’s confession hanging over her, Iris never dates Eddie. Maybe she goes on one date with him, but she doesn’t want to start anything serious until/unless she talks to Barry. She knows people think she’s crazy for still hoping he’ll wake up, but…she’s always believed in the impossible, ever since she and Barry were 11. So she and Eddie are good friends, and he understands when she explains her situation. “He’s a lucky guy, your Barry.” “Yeah, well…I’m lucky too. To have him.”

Iris and Barry talk about things properly when he wakes up, and they agree to date. Barry’s emotional appeal to Joe also goes much better because…now the only secret he’s keeping from Iris is this Flash thing, which he doesn’t want to keep. He even gets upset at the idea that Iris somehow needs more protection than him—Iris, who’s a skilled marksman and boxer, the latter of which she does even better than him? Iris, who’s a force to be reckoned with even without powers? Idk if Joe agrees, but either way, Barry finds this all ridiculous and tells her. This also strengthens their relationship…and Iris writes about the Streak and ignores Barry’s whining about the name (tho she changes it when he comes up with “the Flash”)

With Iris now spending a lot of time at STAR Labs, becoming almost a part of the Team (Eowells doesn’t like having her there (considers her a distraction to Barry) and it shows…neither does Caitlin, but she’s at least warming up to Iris)…she notices some odd things, particularly about Eowells. Her investigation begins much sooner…maybe she’s even the one who discovers Ronnie is alive, and Caitlin warms up to her significantly when Iris a) tells her, and b) supports her through realizing Ronnie isn’t the same. She’d probably even realize Hartley’s deal and try to help him…for her trouble, she nearly ends up on the wrong side of his gauntlets (but Hartley won’t admit, he’s touched by her compassion and genuine attempt to help. He just doesn’t entirely trust her, since by all appearances, she’s backing up Eowells)

This AU has the waterfront kiss! But since they’re already dating, it’s one of those “in case I never see you again” “don’t you dare say that, Bartholomew. You come back to me, you hear me?” “As fast as I can, Iris.” Isn’t that much more romantic than cheating 🥰

Things kick into high gear after that. Iris discovers more suspicious details that aren’t lining up, she tries to tell Barry, he insists it’s probably nothing. The scales haven’t yet fallen from his eyes—he gets agitated when Iris insists for too long, so she stops insisting to him. Eddie meanwhile lets slip about him and Joe investigating Eowells, and Iris teases them about not having an “in” until they ask her to help. It’s nice to be asked and appreciated, she thinks, and agrees, though makes them promise not to tell Barry about her involvement

Beyond that, I’m not totally sure—maybe they catch him earlier, maybe not…maybe Eddie still has to die, and Iris is still devastated because she and Eddie were close friends.

send me an au and i’ll share 5+ headcanons about it!

[littlerosetrove]

Just finished the episode, so here are my initial SPOILER thoughts for 8x1 in no particular order.

The bee stuff was all so silly of course, but so far I don't mind it. 911 is all about wacky and improbable happenings like this, so this is very much on brand. I appreciate the variety of issues the swarm of killer bees is causing.

I HOPE GERARD DIES. I know he won't, but one can hope. Anyway, I still don't like having his character back, been there done that. But since we have to deal with him for now, it makes the most sense that Buck is the one with issues. Buck has never had to deal with any form of oppression like this, and character wise this clearly bothers him. It would be redundant for Gerard to focus on Hen or Chimney, so for the show to mostly have Gerard zero in on Buck is the most satisfying, so to speak. Will Buck learn to keep his head down against Gerard? Ehhhh it's hard to say with him. Hm, I hope it doesn't take Buck talking back, which then somehow makes things worse for Hen or Chimney or Eddie, for Buck to finally Get It.

A bunch of killer bees have already caused chaos, and Buck SMILES. This man loves life and living creatures and I fgvjhbkjbhj.

This episode had good pacing, and nothing was lingered on too long or too short.

I bet there will eventually be tension between Hen/Karen and Maddie/Chimney when Hen/Karen can officially and legally bring Mara back home to them. It's clear Mara has a good relationship with Chimney, Maddie, and Jee-Yun, so... Yeah that's gonna get a bit messy. I'm interested by this story, although I hope Councilwoman Ortiz won't have much more to do with it. Be gone you shitty person!

CUTE BUCK AND TOMMY MOMENT!!! Tommy flirts like a dork and I LOVE IT.

Clearly Eddie wanted both Tommy and Buck to be there to surprise Chris because Chris LIKES/LOVES both Tommy and Buck. Tommy being included like this just warms my heart.

Helena still deserves no rights. Idk, it felt and looked like she was keeping Eddie out of the celebration of Chris's birthday in some ways. It also just seems like she's generally keeping, intentionally or not, Eddie out of the loop of Chris's life. I seriously hope the show acknowledges this in the form of, at some point, Eddie confronting his mom on her general shittiness. Only time will tell, but I'm... honestly not holding my breath right now.

And oof, Helena just casually saying she and Ramon are thinking of building a pool for Chris? As if she's full on expecting Chris to, basically, permanently stay with them??? Don't like that either.

There was a three month time jump, so good lord that means 1) Chris has been gone for 3 months and is showing no sign right now of wanting to come back, 2) the 118 has had to deal with the Shit Stain Gerard for waaaay too long, 3) Mara has been in a pseudo limbo of sorts for at least 3 months, and 4) Athena and Bobby are sill looking for a home, but that's more understandable.

While I'm... never really a fan of Athena's cop stuff, I do support her putting the guy in the trunk. Hey, she still gave him water and called it in. I'm also neutral about Athena's current storyline. I'm willing to see how it plays out though.

I will say GOOD GOSH Athena just can't travel anywhere huh? Clearly they're going to have Athena either attempt to land the plane on her own, orrrr? Go with me. Tommy is involved in like getting on to the crashing plane, or in some way involved in the crazy scenario because he is a pilot. 👀

Poor Bobby. He is not having a good time doing *waves hand* whatever job he's currently doing. Consulting on a movie? Yeah no. I wonder if he's been working on trying to get back into actual firefighting duties? He still seems to have his title as captain, but well, he's not working with a firehouse. We'll have to wait and see.

Overall, yeah I enjoyed this episode. It really felt like an ensemble show and I was happy for that. Edit: as a friend of mine put it, it was a decent start to the season. For me and her it wasn't "Wow so amazing!!," but decent, which is still good, you know?

I'll be honest, my level of excitement for season 8 in general is lower because of some continuing storylines in the show and fandom. That said, I am still looking forward to the next episode. And to hopefully boost my excitement, well. I know I'll need to blacklist and block some people because I know things will get worse now the show is airing again.

[twoset-updates]

[100623 云外一朵云 weibo post]

translation of op's post; bolded text is op's original english.

I'll share an answer from today's Q&A. I remember their answer very clearly, because this question is something I've been thinking about for a long time as well. The person who asked the question is a guy, and he and his girlfriend are both studying music, majoring in the same instrument. He asked Twoset if they get competitive all the time, or argue who is better, and how do they deal with it?

Brett's answer was basically that he doesn't really have these feelings, because when you're on stage you're too nervous to care about how well others perform. "I just get really nervous."

Next was Eddy's answer. I almost cried over his answer, it had too many moments of sincerity. I'm sharing it because it feels so precious. (I was only able to remember this portion; Eddy actually said more than this, and I may have missed a few sentences here and there, but the essential meaning of what he said is pretty much intact.)

"I have two ways of thinking about this actually. I have the practical answer which is interacting normal day life and I have like the bigger picture what I think about relationships. So I think in life, meeting people that are genuinely close that you form like lifelong relationships with is something that's so rare, so meaningful, and that to me is always gonna be more precious than winning some competition by someone that you can trust that you know you guys will support each other. And for me, like for Brett, for example, I think it's always that you should want the best for the other person. And you should also know that they want the best for you. And so you know if you see someone else exceed, let's say for example, he won the Bach prize and I didn't, even if in the moment I feel a little bit like jealous or envious, I'm not saying I don't remember how I felt, but if I did I think I've done that you should still commit. There's something you can practice, actually just practice being like: no, I'm going to congratulate them. I'm gonna feel happy for them, because I want the best for them."

At this point I was already crying in my heart (who would know). Then maybe Eddy's answer had sparked more of Brett's thoughts, so Brett added, "You might feel it (envy), it's okay to feel it, you don't need to think 'Oh my god! I'm a bad person,' just kind of be like, 'okay what's there,' but I'm not gonna act on it, and I shouldn't respond to it, I just look at it. It's a 'Hi, envy.'"

I don't know what else I can do to describe this conversation with my poor language, because it's just what Twoset is. I'm thankful to them.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

A Light in the Darkness {Part 04 of 07}

Pairing: Eddie Munson X Hargrove!twinsister Reader

Chapter word count: 1.6 K

Summary: After Billy died, you got stuck in a dark place, where you didn't have to deal with your feelings. Your friends don't know what to do but to drag you away from the many fights you pick. And life was dragging itself, an agonizing day after the other... Until Eddie Munson broke through the very high walls you built around yourself.

<- Previous part (03)

Next Part (05) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

Gentle Touch

The doorbell rang and you knew immediately who was. He had to be on time, you think, checking the clock.

You had a change of heart in the afternoon, telling Maxine to get in touch with Eddie to let him know you wouldn't be going to any party. But she said no, there was a huge argument - as usual -, and here you are, forced by a kid to dress up for a stupid party.

When you leave your room, there's that odd feeling as you pass through Billy's bedroom. His things are still in there, you couldn't throw them away or donate them, the reason why Susan suggested you all moved to another house. Might be unhealthy for you, she once said, living here. But you can't. First, Neil is forced by the law to pay for this house, and second, you can't leave it all behind. The last memories of your brother, alive and breathing.

“Oh my!” Susan exclaims when she sees you coming from the hall. “You look absolutely gorgeous!”

Looking down at yourself and then back at her, you offer a small smile. “Thanks.” The outfit was hand-picked by Maxine. The dress, sparkly black with pink details, has thin straps, which you covered by a very feminine, beige leather jacket. The red lipstick brings out the blue in your eyes, and Max also helped you style your hair in waves, letting the dark strawberry locks roll down your shoulders and back. “All Maxine's doing, I must confess.”

“You look fabulous.” The girl says, a bright smile on her lips. Eddie, who stands next to her near the couch, has his eyes set on you. And... A weird expression on his face. “Right, Eddie?”

Max elbows him, and the guy clears his throat, nodding. “Have you lost your tongue, Munson?” You ask, wondering if this heat crawling over your cheeks means that you're blushing. God, you hope not.

“Yeah. I mean no.” He steps closer, glancing at both Maxine and Susan before walking over to you. “You look... Stunning. Like, you always do but really, this time...” His voice fades as his eyes move through your body, a dazed look on his face.

“Go now, before the poor boy passes out,” Susan says, touching your arm affectionately. “I'm happy to see you going out again, (Y/N). Have fun, alright?” It feels like she wants to hug you, but as usual, Susan keeps her distance. She blames herself for what happened, you know it, but you also know it wasn't her fault. After the marriage, Neil acted like a good father before her eyes. It took a year for her to be pulled into the mess.

Three years into the marriage, Neil started hitting her too, every once in a while. It wasn't as often as you and Billy, but if she crossed him, she'd pay for it. So, you're not that different, you think.

But it doesn't matter now, with Neil God knows where and you heading to a party. “Alright.” Sighing, you head to the door, car keys in hand.

“Hey, I...” Eddie mutters, jogging a little until he's next to you. “I came with the van.”

“Sorry, Munson, but that won't happen,” You say, swinging the keys in front of his face. “Do you even know how fast this baby can go?”

“I'm not sure I wanna find out.”

“You don't have to. I know.” Shrugging, you make the way to your car, getting into the passenger seat. “Don't get me wrong.” You say when he's seated by your side. “But driving is one of the few things I still find joy in life.”

“Well, I'd let you drive the van if that's the problem.”

For some reason, that makes you chuckle. “My car is also one of the few things I still find joy in.” With that, you speed off, not minding the seatbelt.

On the way to Olivia's, Eddie keeps the small talk. Maybe it's on purpose, the way he avoids anything delicate or dangerous. Maybe not. Whatever reason, you just go with it. Nothing wrong with being a normal girl for one night. Or pretending to be.

Olivia's house is lit up. There are Christmas lights all over, and the music is loud. You're already singing along when you park the car over the lawn, with two others. “Kinda rude, don't you think?” Eddie comments as you turn the ignition off.

“It's already ruined. One more car won't matter.” Checking your face in the mirror, you get out. “Let's go surprise some people.”

The front door is open, and the people hanging on the porch are the first victims of the night. They look at you, eyes going wide, and when they see Eddie, their mouths go almost as wide as their eyes. You being here is shocking enough for them, but seeing you here with Eddie Munson? D&D roleplay game leader Eddie Munson? They're dumbfounded.

As you move inside, through the living room, and into the kitchen to grab yourself a soda can, many eyes move with you. It makes you smile, a quick, fading smile, but still, an improvement. “I don't think they're happy to see me,” Eddie says on your ear as you take some sips from your can.

“So what? If they don't they can place a formal complaint.”

“Complain to whom?”

Smirking, you look at him. “To me.” You simply say. “I'll give you fifty bucks if anyone in this party dares to say anything about me bringing you.”

Eddie looks around, leaning against the kitchen island. “Jason might. If he's even here.”

“He wouldn't. And he isn't.” Jerking your head to the living room, you take his arm. “Let's go. I need to find Olivia and then dance.”

“You? Dancing?” He yells above the music.

“Well, since I'm already here.”

It's hard to find Olivia in the ever-growing crowd, but you manage to corner her in the upstairs hall. The girl's face lights up, and she pulls you into a tight hug.

“I can't believe you came!” She shouts, not letting go of you. “I had no hopes at all.”

“I didn't bring any gifts.” You mutter, pulling away gently, embarrassed. It's your friend's birthday party and buying her a gift didn't even cross your mind. “I'll buy you something tomorrow.”

“No, no. Having you here, finally out to have some fun is the best gift I could ever have.” The honesty in her voice has you controlling yourself not to cry.

“I don't even know what to say, Livie.”

“Don't say anything. Grab your date and let's dance.” She takes your hand, you take Eddie's, and you let her guide you back to the living room.

For the next hours, you dance. Without a damn worry in the word, you dance to every song. With Olivia, and with Eddie too. You don't think much, you just focus on this moment. Eddie is a great dancer, you're impressed to find, and you're also perplexed to find that you don't mind Eddie's hand on you, not one bit. He feels warm and gentle, and many times during the night you're actually chasing his touch. He seems eager to give it to you. And if you could, you would make it last forever.

It's very late when you're seated in the backyard, playing chess with some random guy you don't know. By now, only the closest friends of Livie's are here. You don't know how to play it, but neither does the other guy, so the two of you are just doing as other people tell you to.

But you're tired. It'd been a fight to keep your eyes open, and you feel like you'll pass out any moment now. “As much as I enjoyed the party,” Eddie says, a hand on your waist. “I'm on the verge of falling asleep.”

No, he isn't. Looking at him, you furrow your eyebrows, getting up with him. “We should get going.” You say, realizing he's doing this for you. “Thanks, Livie. See you on Monday.”

“See you, (Y/N). Thank you again for coming.” Another hug, and off you go.

On the way to your car, rubbing your eyes, you feel as heavy as a mountain. “(Y/N),” Eddie calls. “I know you love it, but let me drive. Your eyes are closing.”

He's right. “Shit.” Throwing him the keys, you head to the passenger seat. You hate being in the passenger seat. “I'm up for...” Making a pause, you quickly make the calculations. “Eighty hours? Yeah, something like that.” And you let yourself fall on the seat.

“What?” Eddie sounds serious, and it snaps you awake. “You can't do this. Lack of sleep is-”

“I know, Eddie. Just drive before I take the keys from you.” Running a hand through your hair, you lie back, a hand covering your eyes. You feel when the car starts moving, but then, you feel nothing at all.

There are stickers on the light pink ceiling, but you can't make up their form, despite the familiarity. A shout makes you shake like a leaf, your guts turning to liquid. When the door is pushed open, so violently that it falls off the hinges, you run to the furthest wall. “I told you,” Neil says, a huge belt in his hand, so pitch black it shines. “I told you, (Y/N).”

“Billy!” You hear yourself yelling, your voice much thinner, smaller, like a child's. “Billy, where are you?!”

“You'll learn to do as I say!” The first blow comes, and your sight becomes red. Even when you close your eyes, you can still see him, the belt snapping against your skin over and over again.

“Billy!” You shout again, over Neil's voice, the cursing and the yelling. “Billy!” But nobody answers your cries, you alone, pain pulsing through your body, as the belt slashes through your skin.

@lovesanimals0000

[fastcardotmp3]

hi! me again! composing this as i'm reading the post you linked (thank you!! and pls forgive any insane rambling as i've just finished writing all my midterm report cards and my brain is much l m f a o)

when i thought of them breaking up, i wouldn't have guessed it would be steve to initiate it! this bit specifically was so interesting:

"It's not just one thing, it's bigger than them just like the world, and it's Steve, ultimately, who decides he's scared enough of all the big upheavals that he can't be attached to Eddie like that right now, trapped in a tiny apartment together with nowhere for all the complexity to go.

Steve says he can't take care of himself while he's waiting for the other shoe to drop on Eddie's end of things, and so he walks away before Eddie can."

we are in eddie's head so thoroughly that i think it's easy to maybe brush aside how steve must be feeling throughout the entirety of this? poor steve always choosing the most difficult (but lovely) people to love, and always putting them first until he can't anymore!! that fear of being hurt or left behind is So Real and I actually could read 160k of meta from steve's POV solely so i can see his reaction to finding out eddie has run off. MOVING ON!

do they live apart during this time? i imagine if that were the case that it might have been difficult, having lived on top of one another for so long. also difficult for the ladies as well, considering they are all very much entangled.

"It's Eddie who says, I don't think I ever really grasped what it was like for you when I ran. I don't think I ever really apologized. I'm sorry.

It's Eddie who lays it all out on the table and makes it clear, I don't need you to fix me anymore, I just like holding your hand."

TO ME, this is so important!!!!! how lovely for steve to hear something like this, to maybe be validated and reassured in a way he probably hasn't been in a while.

the idea of it not being earth-shattering every time, of giving themselves breathing room...ugh. i just love it!! talk about dynamic.

tysm for tolerating me!! once my brain is no longer mush i will be crawling back to talk wasteland with you because i love an apocalyptic take so fucking muuuuuuuuuch and i need to know more.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🥹💚💚💚💚💚💚

first of all when i tell you i have thought about writing about the chapters when Eddie runs away from Steve's POV one trillion and one times only to not do it because it would be a ton of work and approximately 3 people would end up reading it fjkadslfj...... but trust that it lives in my brain that fic...... it lives......

SECOND of all!!! it's so important to me that it's steve who creates that boundary! as much as he loves Eddie, the guy put him through so much and he only really let himself feel it for a very short period of time! they are all about the give and take to me and finding the balance within each other for what that means! that's why in META i gave him that chance to say I need to be mad at you about this, because they both needed to realize that Steve had been going through it too GAH

which is why, in the unwritten parts of it that exist only in my head, they definitely do live separately while they're broken up. it takes months for them to find their footing and they genuinely aren't sure for a minute that they'll work it out, so yeah, they live apart in all the ways they can while still being intrinsically linked and you know what? i think it's good for them. hard! but good.

because like i said in that other post, it gives them a chance to realize that the things they've thought for a while were necessary about sticking together aren't something they need for survival anymore. the closeness isn't keeping them alive, it's just something they want. figuring out that distinction is a big deal and they deserve the chance to discover it!

i am not simply tolerating you dude i am thriving i am living i am grateful for your thoughtful thoughts! i wish you luck on your post midterms life and when you want to talk about wasteland i am here because....... that is also my baby omg

<3 < 3 <3

[ambrossart]

Hi lovely. I read that you’re still unsatisfied with the intimate scenes in the second part of the epilogue, but I want you to know that it’s some of the best I’ve ever read. The awkwardness is so realistic, and the emotion really shines through. (WHEN HE SAYS HE MISSED HER BEFORE KISSING HER. OH MY GOD.) And the newness of the experience for both of the characters is so endearing, and it’s perfectly balanced with the sudden spikes of boldness from both of them, too. (Speaking of, when Eddie made her say “Please.” I actually dropped my fucking phone.)

Not to ramble, but the conversations throughout the intimate moments were also incredible and really grounded the whole scene.

I know I sound like a broken record, but this series has seriously given me so much comfort (even though it made my heart beat so fast that I had to pace around my room, which I also loved). Thank you so so so much for this story. It’s made a little home in my head that serves as a respite throughout my days.

I can’t wait to read The Morning After and any other works you put out. And belated congrats on your recent move!! 💓💓💓

You know... I dunno, maybe I'm just being overly critical of myself. Those scenes are just so emotionally charged. This is such an important moment for both of them. Even without the physical part, just having her in his house is a huge deal. That’s why I love how, while he’s initially kissing her on his bed, she’s trying to look around his room and take everything in (I swear, just being in his room is probably enough to get her going 😂). It’s a very special moment and I’m not sure if I captured it well enough, but I did the best I could.

Of course, that’s not to say I’m unsatisfied with all of it. There are parts that I really like, like when she feels insecure about Eddie’s past sexual experiences and he pokes fun at himself to make her feel better. He’s just so precious. 🥺

And speaking of that “I really missed you” line, that sequence is one of my favorite parts of the entire epilogue. It was such a struggle for them to overcome their emotional hurdles. These idiots put themselves through hell and they finally made it through to the other side, and now they get to just relax and enjoy being together.

Some of the earlier high school fics are going to highlight just how bad it was before. There wasn’t a bunch of cute, flirty banter or bickering. No obvious sexual tension. It was just… a wall of ice, broken up by rare glimpses of how things used to be (not enough to give him hope, but just enough to torture him). And there are periods early on where Eddie tries to get through to her, and it just blows up in his face, and he eventually stops trying. Now he has to accept the loss of not just a potential love interest but also a really good friend.

So, yes, this poor boy really means it when he says he missed her. 😭

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Your comments always make my day ❤️

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Ahh BMT I hope you're ok with this kind of 3-way conversation on your blog. I'm the original fashion anon and I just saw the most recent post and I have so many thoughts.

WRT Jimin/W Mag - I agree. I thought the styling was great. I think for me right now, what has my back up in caution against Dior is not their SS show (which is what Jimin shot in for the magazine), or even their pre-fall, which is what both Jimin and Hoseok showed up in to the show- it's explicitly the very distinct and almost odd turn towards both equestrian and explicitly British (and especially Scottish) styling that this specific FW show took. I don't think all Korean stars need to be in distinctly Korean-inspired clothing all the time, but putting them in kilts feels equally weird. It just doesn't fit. Like I said, only time will tell as far as my judgement goes.

And I agree neither Jimin nor Hoseok were show-stoppers, my favourite of all their celeb stylings was Jirayu Tangsrisuk that sheer coat was very good. But god if you want to see a bad suit fit, look at the picture they posed on instagram of poor Eddie Redmayne. If I was on his PR team I would have had that deleted immediately.

As far as a general sports inspiration goes, again we'll see. I think that tennis jacket that Jimin wore to the airport drowned him in a bad way (also LOL at your condom hat anon). It's not that sporty doesn't suit him, it's that this specific brand of explicitly almost hamptons sporty may not suit him.

I agree on the comments re: YSL and other brands. Ultimately, signing a brand deal means signing some freedom away. My desire to see Jimin in one of those glorious bow-necked blouses aside, I hope he chose a brand he feels happy and comfortable with.

Parting thought - some familiarity and observation on these kind of deals tells me that they're usually for "casual" wear only. Which is to say that typically artists reserve the right to style themselves as they see fit in things like music videos. These brand deals come more into play with airport fashion, red carpets, casual appearances, and even then only a portion of the time. It doesn't mean they're literally never allowed to wear any other clothes. See, as an example, how BTS wore all sorts of brands in the Butter music video mere weeks after being announced brand ambassadors for LV. See also how their red carpet styling was awful for a full sixteen months. I expect this is how the members individual contracts will go, but only time will tell.

So I have two fashion anons, it's now confirmed! Yes, I am open to this 3-way conversation or to anyone else with the knowledge. I'm having a good time with these posts.

The aspect of the British, but mostly Scottish influence and a Korean brand ambassador is something that I didn't really think about, but I think it's quite a nuanced situation altogether and sensitive/complicated to navigate. Inspiration and muses come from everywhere and borders are extremely relaxed (as long as it doesn't fall into cultural appropriation, but that's a completely different topic). Kim Jones is English, an artistic director for Dior Homme. He made a collection inspired by very specific British elements (plus the T.S. Eliot poem), as a tribute to YSL, all for a French fashion house. And this is quite common. Perhaps next season could be inspired by something else across the world and a different culture. But this is just the basics, you know this stuff. Sometimes the collection is really tied to someone's heritage or/and political message (remember McQueen's Highland Rape?) and other times it has nothing to do with it. So, in that vein, I wouldn't think of Jimin wearing clothes from this collection to be necessarily a weird choice. It does have specific influences, but the basis is that these brands are creating a globalized Western style. Be it Dior, Chanel, YSL, Valentino, etc. Ultimately, I think someone can make it work as long as it becomes individualized, to a certain degree. What I mean is, regardless of the influences, if Jimin is able to wear it and not be just a "mannequin", then maybe the result will be a good one.

It's interesting that, with Western celebrities that I'm interested in (usually actors) that have brand deals with luxury fashion houses, I never had these questions over their style freedom and identity. It all depends in this case as well. If I look in the past, Catherine Denevue and YSL was a match made in heaven. It's a style identity that everyone will associate her with. Sixty years later and her clothes in Belle de jour are still iconic. Or Givenchy with Audrey Hepburn. These are ideal cases. And now there's this online complain (obviously social media changes the game and we are part of it) about how boring it became all of Kristen Stewart's or Margot Robbie's event appearances because of their respective deals with Chanel. Perhaps a case by case situation makes the most sense. As to Jimin, this is still very early so we're not really shooting in the dark, but I'm also taking the position that we simply can't entirely know how it will turn out until it happens. Although it is fun to talk about it anyway.

I looked up those two you mentioned, Eddie and Jirayu. I saw photos of Eddie yesterday, he was completely forgettable. But in contrast, Robert Pattinson's outfit was something that it made sense for him and it worked. I'll add some photos here for everyone else.

Thanks to you as well for stopping by again. Since I don't have a background in this area, but given that these days this is the hot topic to discuss, I appreciate anyone with more knowledge than me adding some valuable insight to this.

[sofiiel]

There & Back Again | Ch.25

Down

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Myrtle could feel panic settling in her chest like a cloud of foul dust or vapor inhaled too deeply. All she could do was listen from that hospital bed. Her head hurt as her thoughts began to wonder if maybe everything around here was a dream.

"So uh....what do we do to make the so-called trade then?" Eddie spoke into the walkie. "You simply walk out that door and go home," said Franchesca. 

Eddie's jaw clenched tight, nothing about this felt right. Gail raised her brows with a smile as he glanced back at her, even she didn't feel right. Eddie looked at Scott and Jeff, both looked uncertain, and none of them looked as if they wanted to make this deal.

"We can't do this, Eddie." Gareth spoke up. "What happened to no fellowette left behind?" He asked. His eyes wandered to Gail. She was a legend he'd only heard stories about, Eddie's first-ever girlfriend, second friend, former frontwoman for Corroded Coffin, and also the one who broke his heart.

Gareth scowled, "She didn't choose you, did she?" He reasoned.

Eddie froze and glanced off while Gail's eyes honed in on Gareth, they watched him as if trying to drag up a memory that had been forgotten. Soon that blank look in her eyes was replaced with a smile.

"You mean I chose the drugs? I did...that's not my fault, they get in your head like a phantom. I learned my lesson." Gail said calmly. Jeff frowned, "he wasn't talking about the drugs." he said. Axel rolled his eyes, "Can we make it clear, there's no deal if Kali is staying behind too." He said.

"I'm not leaving her to these people, Axel. Not if she's one of us." Kali stated from Doris' side. She looked up at Doris, her eyes reading "you do have a plan right?" to which Doris smirked. Kali exhaled, of course she did, she always does. But so much time had passed, they weren't children anymore, and the fact was she wasn't sure Doris was the same person.

In those days, she would have never turned her back on him.

Eddie looked at the front door, it was easy, right, just walk out? There would be many people back home who would be overjoyed if he'd returned with Gail. More so, if there was an explanation for it all that made vague sense.

Doris, Samantha, uncle Wayne, Rick, and the usuals at The Hideout, it would heal the old hurt her loss left behind for them. Eddie's hand shook as it gripped the walkie. But there was too much of a question lingering over what that would mean for Myrtle.

Eddie couldn't shake Amy and Robin's faces out of his head.  "You bring her back in one piece, Rughead, or I'll hunt you down like one of those damn dogs." Amy's words echoed in his head.  He didn't understand why, but the thought of letting 'weird girl' down made him sick, almost as sick as the thought of leaving Myrtle behind.

Eddie looked down at Gail once more and spoke carefully into the walkie. "Is she there, I want to talk to her." He said, voice calm but heart pounding.

Franchesca rolled her eyes, she hated how melodramatic teenagers were, She held the walkie to Myrtle's ear. Myrtle exhaled shakily, "Myrtle?" Eddie asked.

Myrtle released her bottom lip from her teeth, "Eddie..." she said in a shaken breath of air. The strength left Eddie's shoulders at the sound of her voice. "Thank you." She said. "Hey." He called steadily. " You promised to come to every show I play, remember? What makes you think you can do that left here," said Eddie.

Myrtle smiled faintly and tried to combat her tears with her lashes and gave a nod. "Hey lady? You can fuck right off." Eddie said, glaring at the walkie.

Franchesca laughed, "oh poor delusional child, you thought you were being given a choice?" She hummed through a chuckle.

Eddie froze, "what?" he asked.

The machine hanging from the Basement ceiling started to whirl loudly, it turned on with a stronger blast than before, the laser bringing the twisted unnatural hole into the floor. Larger this time, it pulsed like a heartbeat, and it could be felt throughout the house.

"What the hell is that?" Scott asked.

The group looked at each other, frightened at the feeling. Gail held onto Eddie's arm. "It's opening." she whispered, visibly shaken. Eddie looking down at her, raised a brow, somehow the look in her eyes, it didn't look like Gail. The look in her eyes was that of a stranger.

"What the hell is going on here..." Eddie thought to himself. Doris grimaced, trying her best to remain calm. "Shit, Eddie, way to ruin the plan." she thought.  "Where is that coming from? You hear it? That noise in the background?" Mick said.

"Not sure..." Eddie said.

The front door once again opened, this time more violently as Funshine tossed it wide. He looked to Kali, "There's a strange glow coming from the cellar doors." He said huffing and puffing from the run.

Kali and Doris looked at each other, "shit, find the stairs!" Kali called, the group scattered in hopes of finding the door to the basement.

"Why don't we just head to the cellar doors?" Jeff asked. "They're chained." Funshine stated simply.

Eddie and Mick looked up at a thin door in the hallway, Mick gave the knob a jiggle. "Locked, surprise!" Eddie called out frustrated. "Damn it!" he cursed. Mick chuckled lightly, "easy there." she said, putting two fingers in her mouth as she whistled, drawing Funshine's attention.

"You feeling up to knocking down this door?" She asked him.

Funshine looked up at it, ordinary he would, but the wound on his side and in his leg was saying otherwise. "I might need a hand," he admitted.

Scott walked to stand alongside Funshine, "I got you man, on the count of three." said Scott. The teen and man aimed their shoulders toward the door. "Three!" Funshine called out and each used forward.

All it took was one good ram, the door popped free from the lock.

Scott rubbed his aching shoulder. "It's all you" He said to Eddie. "Thanks, come on." Eddie said, rushing through the door and down the stairs. The roadblock in the dark stairwell sent Eddie's hands flying up to his hair, pulling at it in frustration.

"Well, that's...about as expected, isn't it?" Axel asked. Eddie looked back at him, eyes screaming. "Who has a giant metal door in the basement!" Eddie raged. "Mad scientists, of course." Doris chimed, she sauntered down the steps with a confident smile.

Taking a wide stance, Doris drew her elbows back towards her hips, fingers down and palms up her hands crooked up as if trying to form claws, the skin of her palms opening up, folding away. A bright green light started glowing softly before, with a squelching sound, thin wispy liquid shot from her palms. "Please stay behind the safety line." Doris mused playfully.

The boys of Corroded Coffin and Eddie all screamed and jumped back in horror and amazement as the green liquid burned holes through the metal as if acid. "What was that?" Gareth asked in a small voice.

Doris looked over her shoulder, pleased with her handy work as a hole continued to grow in the metal door. "Venom." Doris hummed before climbing through. "Be careful not to let it drip on you." she advised as the others followed after her.

Gail followed behind Eddie quietly, her heart pounding hard in her chest. Something in her was afraid to go down into the basement, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember why. Quietly, she took Eddie's hand.  He looked back at her as she gave him a stiff smile, "shut up, I'm not scared or anything." she shot with a playful leer.

That was the Gail he remembered, a spitfire. "So why does she revert back and forth so much?" Eddie found himself thinking.

Angel hopped out Rick's truck and looked about at the 7eleven, Amy held a frown on her face as she exited the gas station convenience store, shaking her head. "I asked the cashier. She says she wasn't clocked in yesterday." said Amy, "she won't let us get a hold of the security tapes either." Rick scowled, exiting after Amy with four bags hanging from his arms and a hot dog in his hand.

Angel threw him a sharp look and a scowl. "Yeah, he bought out the whole store, I swear to god..." Amy complained. "It's lunchtime and I got you two something too, so a little gratitude? Yeah?" Rick shot back.

"As if either of us is hungry?" Amy scoffed, turning her back to Rick.

"Eddie's memories told me they tracked the fairy's captors to the neighborhood of Larimer, It's an old house. I will know it when I see it." Angel murmured. "It would have been nice had there been a clue around here, however." He muttered.

"Let's just get back in the truck and go then, who knows it's been hours since we hit the road they might have moved locations," Rick said.

The three piled inside the truck, Rick quickly scarfing down the rest of his hot dog as he passed Amy the bags.

Angel closed his eyes as Rick started the car. "You should give that a rest, you're using up your strength," Rick murmured. "I am not." Angel stated flatly, slightly annoyed. "Just looking doesn't take up much. Now, shut up." He added.

Rick snickered to himself as he glanced at a determined Angel, "kid gives me the heeby geebies sometimes, but he's alright. Fucked up in the head and all." Rick thought, shaking his head. 

"Do you see them?" Amy asked quietly, leaning over the front seat but Angel remained silent, scowling with his eyes closed.

In the darkness, he could see Myrtle, her eyes frightened as she looked at something on the floor. Angel standing at the side of the hospital bed looked in the direction of her gaze, but he could not widen his third eye's field of vision, the world around them was nothing but a void of black.

"What are you looking at? Why are you scared?" Angel asked her. His hand rested on her shoe, and he stood at the end of the bed. Straining to bring the surroundings to vision. But nothing was working.

"Myrtle!" He could hear Eddie's voice, turning his head, Angel watched as Eddie and Corroded Coffin entered the vision, standing at a distance from Myrtle. The group's eyes fell on the thing that had Myrtle frightened.

Everyone seemed afraid to move, and Angel didn't like it.

"Oh, that's - that can't be good...." A familiar voice mused with caution. Angel turned to watch the woman who spoke, his eyes widened a bit, "Dodo?" He questioned walking towards her, but it was the girl who stepped out behind Eddie that sent a chill down Angel's spine.

Angel watched Gail and found her instantly unnatural. His eyes squinted, "fuck." He growled quietly, looking back at Myrtle.

"They've got a mimic," Angel said to Rick and Amy.

"And are we supposed to know what that is?" Amy asked. Rick nearly held his breath. "Why would they need a mimic?" Rick asked. "It's risky to use them, they're unstable and rare, aren't they?" He asked.

"More unreliable than unstable, but they aren't rare they can be easily created, it's a waste of a number, however," Angel murmured eyes still closed and flickering about. "My guess, is they planned this, the mimic was a throwaway," Angel said.

His eyes remained on the panicking group, "Fairy's got a lot of friends..." he muttered, looking over the faces, but one stood out vividly, enough to cause a slow smirk across Angel's face.

"W-why is he looking like that? What's with the freaky smile?" Amy questioned, her eyes darting between Rick and Angel. Rick shook his head, trying to keep his eyes on the road. Angel gave a dark chuckle softly under his breath saying, "well it looks like it's going to be a regular family reunion."

He stood before Kali in the darkness, and for a moment she looked right at him, her eyes growing wide. Angel turned round as he realized she was no longer looking at him.

"Holy shit." he exhaled.

"What's happening now?" Amy asked quickly, but she didn't get a response.

Myrtle yelped as he skin flared up with an odd sort of pain, a boiling feeling as if hot grease bubbled beneath her skin.  Her hands and arms started to glow, a veiny red that matched the membrane covering the hole being made in the floor.

This membrane lightly rippled and bubbled as it had a volcanic glow of smoldering coals. It crept slowly up Myrtle's arms, overtaking her shoulders, and neck, and soon emerge on her face like a spreading rash.

Myrtle's eyes burned a startling orange, the pain and panic making it hard for her to breathe. Not only that, she felt weak, as if she had gone running on a hot summer day.

"W-whats happening now?" Myrtle struggled to ask. 

"Franchesca, we need to release her from the binds!" The man in the scrubs shouted, worry strewn across his face.  Franchesca wasn't happy, but she rushed to free Myrtle.

While she did so, Kali walked quietly behind her, cattle prod in tow.  Doris glanced towards an old large area rug rolled and bound, focusing hard she made it levitate.

Kali gabbed Franchesca with the electric rod, the woman cried out and tried to fight back, but while she did so the rug came hurdling towards her.

Myrtle watched with large eyes as Franchesca went crashing across the room, her head hitting the wall and knocking her unconscious. "Go now, while you can." Called the man in the scrubs. "You helped us?" Jeff asked him. He offered a weak smile and turned his gaze to Myrtle.

"You have more people on your side than you think." He said. Myrtle tilted her head, "what's happening to me?" she asked. "You are waking up." Kali said. Myrtle "what?" Myrtle asked. But before she could get any answers, Myrtle was rushed.

The air was both compressed down into her lungs and crushed up and out of her lungs. "Guys..." Myrtle wheezed crushed in the arms of Jeff, Scott, and Gareth. "God, you're a real troublemaker," Scott said to her.

"Weird shit just follows you around," said Gareth.

"Your weird skin thing isn't contagious, is it?" Jeff asked.

Speaking of her skin, Myrtle didn't have the heart to tell the boys their endearing group hug was sending a deep pain everywhere the odd membrane rash had spread.

"No, but coincidentally, that should likely hurt very much." said the man in scrubs.

Eddie stepped forward, leading Gail behind him. She had watched as the band threw themselves upon Myrtle in silence. 

Myrtle's eyes wandered over to Eddie and quickly landed on the girl behind him.  Her eyes locked onto Myrtle's and they were unreadable.  "You should hurry and leave, before Franchesca awakes, I can fare well enough in making it look like I was overpowered." The man laughed, "I'm not much of a fighter." he said.

"What's your name, guy?" Doris asked. "Names are dangerous. My contacts know me as The Riddler." The man hummed, pushing up his glasses. "Like.... as in...batman?" Jeff asked skeptically. The Riddler laughed, "well no... I've never touched a comic book. I relay information in codes, riddles." he said.

"But look you need to hurry and leave, the transport van should be arriving to pick up Miss McKinney fairly soo-" The Riddler's words ended in a gasp as Vines flew out from the odd hole in the floor, bursting through the membrane.

Myrtle turned to run as they shot out towards her, wrapping under and around her shoulders, trying to pull her back. She remembered seeing these odd vines in her dreams, in that place that felt decayed.

"So it wasn't just a dream?" she thought. "Help!" Myrtle screamed.

Eddie ran forward, Gail releasing his arm, and took hold of Myrtle's hands, but the odd rash on them made her grip slippery as it oozed a clear thick liquid. Eddie felt sick at the feeling of it, but tried to hold on tight. Despite the pain that shot through her arms and hands, Myrtle held as tight as she could to Eddie's hands.

"No, I got you!" Eddie called out, shutting his eyes tight, he tried to back away from the hole in the floor, pulling Myrtle with him.

The Vines, however, were stronger and for every inch away he pulled, the Vines pulled them several more inches back. "I-It's growing!" The Riddler called, he turned to the various computers and started typing furiously. Above them, the machine slowly hummed and started to whirl backward.

"Get her loose, and then we all make for the cellar doors, We can not stay in here, the machine will seal the gate." said The Riddler.

Eddie embraced Myrtle to get a tight hold on her. "Eddie?" she questioned, "I'm not letting go." He said, "Guys, pull me!" He called back. Gail rushed in first, and Scott, Gareth, and Jeff followed. Axel, Mick, Kali, and Funshine then took hold of them and pulled.

Doris held her palms out towards the vines and sent forth a steady stream of venom.

It wasn't working, more vines shot out of the growing gate, taking hold of Myrtle's legs now. 

"This isn't happening, we've got to weigh over 800 pounds together, how is it dragging us?" Axel questioned. "Just keep pulling!" Eddie called. Myrtle's hands clung to the back of Eddie's shoulders, glancing back she could see the Gate glowing, some strange shadow looming on the other side.

Her heart pounded, "it's a gate, then if it leads where I think it does..." Myrtle thought, she looked at the others trying to pull, "Even with all of us, what if this time there's no getting out? It won't be a dream we're all awake this time." Myrtle thought.

Her hands slowly lost their strength around Eddie's shoulders. She could feel it in the way he held onto her, Eddie had no intention of letting go, and asking him to would be foolish.

"Sorry, Eddie." Myrtle whispered, Eddie drew his head back to look at her, the question on his face unable to be voiced as Myrtle shoved her hands into his chest with as much force as she could.

The impact made her arms throb in protest, the odd rash glowing brightly before growing again.

"What?" Eddie gasped as he and the group flew backward, hitting the floor. "Damn it, Myrtle!" Eddie called out, trying to get back to his feet amidst the dog pile of people.

Doris held out her hands, and with a grunt, she struggled to pull Myrtle with telekinesis. Myrtle wasn't moving, it seemed Doris and the numerous vines were evenly matched. Blood dripped from her nostril and her arms shook violently.

Myrtle could feel a magnetic force twice as strong as Doris' tether around her, but not by a limb. It felt like it was pulling at her core.

Veins started to show around Dori's forehead as she struggled, her feet slipping forward across the floor. "It's him." Doris exhaled. "I can't hold this!" she shouted, shaking her head.

"We are running out of time!" called The Riddler as the machine hummed louder.

"What's that thing gonna do?" Gail asked, looking up at it, a bright red light forming at the end of the needle-like drill. 

"Alright, we're here!" Rick called out, bringing the truck to an instant stop before the old abandoned house. "Come on, get out of that freaky trance!" Amy shouted to Angel. 

Angel's eyes shot open, and he quickly hopped out of the truck, Amy pushed his seat forward and climbed out the back. The three of them ran for the house.

"Basement!" Angel said. Rick pulled a pistol from his hip and aimed it as he took point, leading the teens towards the hall. He opened the armed door and headed down the dark stairwell.

A great commotion coming from below. Various persons talking frantically. Rick paused at a large metal door that looked to have been melted. "Mother Mary of Joseph! What the hell did that!" Rick shouted. "Screw it, let's move!" Amy called, following Angel, who was quick to climb through the gaping hole in the acid-gnarled door.

Angel slid to a stop in the basement, his eyes falling on the pile of people only just managing to get back to their feet. "Why's everyone looking like baby deer?" Amy asked.

Angel's eyes flew to Myrtle, he glared in her direction, but he wasn't looking at her. "Fuck you." Angel muttered, holding out one arm he held out his palm to Myrtle, slowly rotating his wrist facing the bottom of his palm towards the ceiling.

In a slow motion, he closed his fingers into a fist as if beckoning, and Myrtle's body lurched forward.

Doris' looked at Angel stunned, "It's about time you got here." she spat. But he ignored her words. "This your cavalry?" Kali questioned.

Eddie's mouth tumbled open, "If the day gets any weirder than this, I'm going to think it's a real bad nightmare." Scott said. 

The magnetic pull on her body felt as if it would tear her in two. Angel gasped as he noticed the rash on Myrtle's body growing.  He released his pull on her. "No, what are you doing!" Doris called out.

"We're making it worse," Angel said, he flung Doris back a few steps, and she lost her pull on Myrtle as well. "Pete, what the fuck, man!" Eddie shouted. Gail grasping Eddie's sleeve held him back.

"You need to trust him, Eddie!" She said. Eddie looked between her and the scene before him. It was something easier said than done with their history.

Free from their powers and with the new force pulling her still, Myrtle flew backward, "No!" Gareth shouted, "Myrtle!" called Eddie rushing forward after Angel who leaped forward, Amy followed after.

"Run! Get out!" Myrtle called to the others.

Angel held tight to Myrtle's wrist and Amy to Angel's shirt.  The three of them were swiftly pulled through the membrane of the gate and the vines weaved it closed tight.

"No!" Eddie stopped at the gate, which now looked like a scabbed wound, still pulsing with a faint glow. He tried stomping on it, trying to break through, but the vines were tough. "God-damn it!" he cursed, body trembling.

"We need to get out, now." The Riddle advised. Gail gently took Eddie's hand. "We should listen to him, that thing up there sounds pretty angry." she said.

Eddie's feet refused to move. "Oh my- Gail?" Rick questioned. Gail looked back at him with a strained smile. "The doctor ain't said shit about all this." Rick exhaled, scratching his head. "Eh, I think it's about time we listen to the riddle man." Mick said, watching as a bright ball of red light formed at the end of the drill.

Everyone looked up, watching amazed and frightened while The Riddler opened the cellar doors. "Come on, everyone out." He said. Gail with the help of Gareth and Jeff managed to pull Eddie away from the gate, albeit kicking and shouting.

"No damn it!" He growled, thrashing about.

"She's got Angel, she'll be fine until we can figure something out!" Rick tried to soothe him, helping the teens drag Eddie out of the cellar doors.

The group ran away from the house towards the burned remains of the house behind it, not a moment too soon.

The group watched in silence as a pale red explosion came from the basement with a series of zaps and crackles. It took out the supports and the house caved in, soon after came a thick smoke.

Eddie covered his mouth from where he sat in the grass, water stinging his eyes. He'd hoped the other side of that gate had gone somewhere deep enough to survive eh explosion. He wouldn't have wished it on Myrtle and Amy, or even Angel.

"Fuck." Axel whispered, watching the blaze slowly build.

"We need to get away from here before the police show up." said the Riddler.

"I know a place." Mick chimed, "good you go, I will find a way to contact you when I can." said the Riddler. Rick gave a nod to him. "We'll be waiting, everyone to the cars," he said.

Kali and her crew headed for their van, and Doris went with Rick, "You can fill me in on what you know seeing as...apparently you are in the know." She said to him, confounded. "Everybody in Hawkins seems to be connected," Scott muttered.

"Come on, let's hurry to the van." said Jeff.

The boys went ahead, but Eddie stayed behind, watching the house. Gail reached down and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Eddie, come on," she called gently. He didn't look at her. She heaved a sigh.

"Stop wallowing there feeling sorry for yourself. You won't help them sitting on your ass, now, will you?" She said, adding strength to her voice. "Get up," she demanded. Eddie looked up at her, and the moisture flooding his eyes made Gail's heartache.

"Don't panic, for all we know that thing goes to neverland." Gail offered a hint of a smile. But Eddie wasn't having the lighthearted comment. Gail huffed, and reaching down tried to force Eddie to his feet.

"Come on, if we stay any longer, who knows what will show up next. Everyone's left, Eddie." she said.

Up on his feet, Eddie quietly took Gail's hand. "She was afraid to leave Hawkins," he whispered to her. "I talked her into it." 

Gail gave his hand a squeeze, "not now Eddie, you can beat yourself up later. We need to go." she said, dragging him along behind her as they headed to Eddie's van. Leaving the abandoned home to crackle like kindling as the fire grew taller. Inside the ruins, the gate seal shut as it was charred to nothing.

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