#also I got so many correct answers how did I get the bad ending | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Text

Where The Heart Is, Part 2 - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: After meeting Eddie over Thanksgiving break, the two of you only want to become closer with one another. You can read part one here.

Note: The response I got to the first part of this truly blew me away. I never expected so many people to leave comments or send me messages, and I just want you all to know how much it means to me. I wasn’t sure if I would continue it or not, because part of me liked where I ended it, but after so many requests, I decided to go further with these two. I have to thank @munson-blurbs for helping me the many times I got writer’s block!

Warnings: phone sex, smut, p in v, oral f! receiving, mentions of trauma, mentions of bad family life, general upside down-related unpleasantness

Words: 17.9k (Whoa.)

[Part 3 | Where The Heart Is masterlist]

The first thing you do when you see your roommate walk into your dorm after returning from Thanksgiving break is tell her to not ignore the phone if it rings. She gives you a funny look, like you’re weird for assuming she’d ignore it at all. But you know her, and if she doesn’t feel like doing something, she won’t. That includes answering the phone.

“Who’s calling you?” she asks. Shelby has a talent for making basic questions sound like insults. Though you have to concede that it is true that no one has ever called you before.

“His name is Eddie.”

Suddenly, she’s interested.

“A boy?” she asks, yet again making it sound like an offensive question.

“Yeah, a boy,” you say. You’re putting the last of your clothes away that you’d brought with you to Hawkins and with each piece you touch, a memory of what you did in it comes to mind. A smile grows on your lips as you pick up the blue sweater you wore when you met Eddie. The soft material gets a small squeeze in your hand before you hang it up.

“You met a guy in Iowa?” Shelby asks as she tosses her suitcase on her bed.

“Indiana,” you correct her. “Yeah, one of Nancy’s friends.”

“And he’s going to call you?”

“Yes,” you say as you roll your eyes, head in your closet. “We really hit it off.”

“Huh,” Shelby muses and you have the urge to strangle her with the pair of tights you just picked up.

Luckily, Shelby decides to stay with her boyfriend in his room for the night, so you can rest from your trip in peace. When the night passes by without Eddie calling, you’re a little disappointed, but also understand because you just saw him this morning. Maybe you were becoming a little obsessed. You sprawl out flat on your back on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. Why is this how it goes? You don’t have feelings for a guy in what feels like forever, then you get hit harder than you could’ve ever possibly imagined you could fall for someone. Thoughts start spinning around your head too loudly for you to possibly get some sleep, so you grab your Walkman from your desk and settle in under your blankets. When you press play, the sound of Queen fills your ears, and you end up falling asleep with an easy smile on your lips.

Alarm startling you awake, noise no longer coming from your headphones since the tape had finished during the night, you jump and clutch at your sheets. Letting the adrenaline that’s surging through your veins abate, you lay back and throw an arm over your eyes. Afraid of falling back to sleep, you push yourself up and start to get ready. You take care to layer up, knowing the biting cold waiting for you once you step outside. Though your black coat looks good when you inspect yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but think Eddie’s leather jacket would look even better.

A gentle snow falls down as you step out of your dorm building, but the harsh wind blows the flakes so fast they sting as they hit your face. You pull your scarf up over your mouth and nose as you make the trek to the English building. As far as early morning Monday classes go, there were far worse ones to have than English.

You’ve finished reading the book you were assigned for the class far ahead of schedule, so the discussion doesn’t hold your attention since everyone is behind you and discussing plot points you already know the resolutions to. Your mind drifts and starts with pleasant thoughts of Eddie, but eventually your own insecurities chime in and make you wonder if he meant it at all when he said he’d call you. Were you dumb for believing him? Did he just want to have a girl to make out with over Thanksgiving and you’d fit the bill?

It’s still going through your mind when you join Nancy for lunch before your last class of the day, which you share with your friend.

“Can I ask you something?” you ask as you sit down across from her in the dining hall.

“You know you can.” She shoots you a smile before taking a bite of her sandwich.

You scratch your nail across your napkin, watching your finger leave holes in its wake. It’s easier for you not to meet her eyes as you speak.

“Did Eddie really like me? Or was I being dumb?”

Nancy stops chewing and lets her sandwich fall back to the plate.

“What? Are you kidding me?”

Your eyes glance up at her before looking into your cup of soda.

“I mean, like, does he treat all girls like this? Am I stupid for thinking I’m special?”

“Look at me.” When you don’t, she reaches over and taps your wrist. “Look. At. Me.” You tilt your head up and meet her eyes. She looks like she wants to throttle you and it makes you shrink under her gaze. “You really think I’d play a part in something that wasn’t real? You think I’d just let him come over in the middle of the night or that I wouldn’t stop him from flirting with you so much if I knew he was just treating you like he treats other girls?”

Shame fills you as you drop your eyes and shake your head. You hadn’t thought about it that way, caught up in your own head and your own insecurities. But Nancy was nothing if not a good friend and she deserved better than to be thought of like that.

“I’m sorry, Nancy, it’s not what I meant,” you say. “You’re right, you would never do anything like that. Ever. I guess I’m just second guessing myself now that I’m back in reality. It kind of feels like Eddie was just some dream I came up with.”

Nancy sighs and picks her sandwich up again. She takes another bite and swallows it before she speaks.

“I get it,” she says. “When I first came here and left Steve back home, I had a hundred negative thoughts running through my mind. And we’ve got years of history and I know you and Eddie only had a few days. Look, I know I told you that I’ve never seen you the way I saw you with Eddie. But I guess I didn’t tell you that I’ve never seen him like that either. Now, to be fair, I haven’t known him well for very long. But when you go through the kind of shit we went through together you do get to know someone well quickly. And as for other girls? I’ve never even heard him talk about a girl before.”

“Oh, come on,” you say with a little laugh. “Look at him. Like he’s never had a girl before?”

“I never said he never had a girl,” Nancy says, shaking her head. “But I’ve never heard him talk about one before. And Eddie is not the kind of guy to play girls. If he tells you he cares about you, he means it. He’s very sincere. Too honest sometimes, if I'm being truthful.”

The smile that comes to your face is involuntary and you try to hide it by taking a sip of your drink. Nancy sees it anyway, but decides not to comment on it, but smiles to herself. You go to take a bite of your mashed potatoes but have to ask one more question first.

“You don’t think I’m crazy, do you? Getting so attached so quickly?”

Nancy shakes her head as she swallows the bite of food currently in her mouth.

“You’re not crazy at all. If you two were talking about going off to Vegas and eloping, I’d be worried. But giving him your phone number? Hardly something drastic to do when you like a guy.”

“I feel crazy,” you admit with a laugh. You drop your fork and rub your hands over your face.

“It is kind of fun for me.” Your friend smirks at you and raises an eyebrow. “Seeing you all riled up like this. So unlike you.”

“It’s why I feel crazy!”

Nancy laughs. “Oh, you’re fine.”

The first day back to classes wears you out. You drag yourself back to your dorm after dinner and collapse on your bed. The winter sun setting earlier in the day makes you want to curl up in bed and call it a night. But your clock tells you it’s only a little after seven.

“I don’t want to be productive,” you mumble into your pillow.

You kick your boots off and force yourself up to switch your things out of your backpack for your classes tomorrow. If you went to bed without doing it, you know you’d end up forgetting in the morning. Luckily, Shelby hasn’t come back to your room so far, but you know it’s only a matter of time.

The phone rings and your textbook slips out of your hand, landing on the tile floor with a loud thud. You trip over it on the way to the shelf between your and Shelby’s beds, snatching the phone up.

“Hello?” you ask.

“Hey.”

Your body practically drops to the floor in relief, grinning to yourself as you sit with your back against the wall and tuck your legs up against your body.

“You sound scared,” you say with a giggle.

Eddie laughs and the sound sends butterflies throughout your body.

“I was scared I was going to get the bitchy roommate!”

“Just me, unfortunately.”

“Bite your tongue,” he says. “You’re the only person I’ve wanted to talk to since we said goodbye at the airport.”

If Shelby were there, she would make fun of you for the rest of the semester for the dopey grin on your face.

“Actually,” Eddie admits, and his voice has gotten quieter. “I wanted to call you last night, but I thought that’d be kind of clingy of me.”

“Honestly? When I was lying in bed last night, I wished you would call.”

“Aw shit, sweetheart,” Eddie says. “You sound just about as lovesick as I am.”

“Lovesick,” you repeat. “That’s a good word for it.”

You hear a breath of laughter on the other end of the line, and you close your eyes to picture what him laughing looks like. His eyes crinkle in the corners and all his bright teeth gleam in happiness.

“How was your first day back?” he asks.

“Exhausting,” you say. “But it’s much better now.”

Eddie groans and the sound should worry you, but it sends heat running south in your body instead.

“You talk all sweet like that and I’m gonna miss you even more,” he says.

Your socked feet tap up and down on the floor in glee and you wrap your arm around your knees.

“Harder to miss me if you’re talking to me,” you say.

“I’m closing my eyes and pretending you’re here next to me.”

“Eddie,” you say with a dreamy sigh. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Me? Be the death of you?” He sounds exasperated by the very idea.

“I said what I said.”

Eddie laughs and it solidifies itself as your official favorite sound in the world.

“Do I sound too desperate if I say I want to call you every night?” Eddie asks.

“No more desperate than me,” you say. “But you should go out and have fun with your friends, too.”

“Yeah, I s’pose the Hellfire guys would be kind of pissed if I just stopped showing up,” he says.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “As much as I want to steal you, I don’t think that’d be very fair.”

“Oh princess, you have my full permission to steal me anytime you want to.”

The nickname quickens your heart rate and a buzz tingles down your limbs.

The doorknob to your room turns and you must let out a groan because Eddie asks you what’s wrong.

“Bitch incoming,” you whisper just before the door opens.

Shelby strolls in and gives you a dirty look for sitting on the floor. You choose to ignore her and close your eyes to focus on your conversation.

“Tell her I said she better be nice to you,” Eddie says.

“I don’t think that would work,” you answer.

“Have Nancy kick her ass.”

You laugh and rest your forehead down on your knees.

“She’s tiny but she definitely could,” you say.

“I have homework to do,” Shelby says as she slams a textbook down on her desk.

Eddie must be able to hear her because he scoffs in your ear.

“What crawled up her ass and died?” he asks.

“I can think of a lot of things,” you mumble, and it makes him laugh.

“I don’t want to cause any problems,” Eddie says. “How about I call you tomorrow night, hmm? I get off work at six - uh, that’s seven there. So, I’ll call when I get home?”

“Promise?” you ask.

“Cross my heart, gorgeous.”

“Okay,” you say. “I guess I’ll talk to you then.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

During the next phone call, you make sure to get Eddie’s number so the burden doesn’t always fall on him to call. But no matter who is calling who, you manage to talk to each other at least four days a week. It’s usually more, but sometimes it’s not as often as you’d both like because Eddie has Hellfire or you have a meeting with your baking club, which Nancy had encouraged you to join earlier in the semester. You’d always enjoyed baking, but never got a chance to properly try it out, but with her encouragement, you signed up.

A week to go before Christmas break, Shelby has thankfully gone to spend the night with her boyfriend again, so you have the room to yourself the whole night to talk with Eddie. There hasn’t been a Friday night you’ve both been able to stay up late together since Eddie’s had to work Saturday mornings the last few weeks. Most students from your floor were out at bars, clubs, or somewhere else you wouldn’t want to be caught dead at, but you knew for a fact that Nancy was in the same position as you - curled up in your bed, wearing your comfiest clothes - and talking to her boyfriend at the other end of the hall.

“Okay,” Eddie says once you’ve been on the phone for a little over two hours. “There’s something I want to ask you.”

“Alright,” you say, tugging your blanket up to your chin in the cool dorm. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Eddie starts. There’s a hitch in his voice and you realize this is the first time you’ve heard him sound a little nervous. “You can totally say no. I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or trying to make you feel like you have to, o-or…”

“Eddie,” you cut him off with a laugh. “What is it?”

He takes a deep breath and your tummy buzzes in anticipation.

“I was wondering if you’d want to come visit for Christmas, maybe?” His voice kept getting higher the further along in the question he got.

“Oh, Eddie, I’d love to,” you say. The smile on your face is so wide it’s hurting your cheeks. “But I don’t want to just assume I’m welcome back at Nancy’s house.”

“Oh, no, no!” Eddie says. “I meant like…do you want to come stay with me?”

The breath catches in your chest and your mouth freezes, unable to form words. Somehow, the breath dislodges itself and you huff what sounds like between a sigh and a laugh.

“You want me to come stay with you?” you ask.

“I sure do.” He says it with such confidence that it makes your eyes water. “Wayne wants to meet you real bad. He said he’s heard enough about you that he feels like he knows you already.”

“Aww, do you talk about me?” you can’t help but tease him despite the strong stinging blush on your cheeks.

“Every chance I get,” Eddie says.

“You really are the sweetest,” you say with a content sigh.

“Does that mean you’ll come?” he asks, voice hiking up in hopefulness.

“Well, I have to go home to see my niece, but I’m seeing her next week,” you say.

“You’re leaving on Friday, right?” Eddie double checks. “Right after your last exam?”

“I am,” you say. Your eyes scan around your dorm room, half packed up with things you’re taking back with you to New Hampshire next week. “And I’m seeing my sister and niece on Tuesday and Wednesday. But after that? If you really want me to, I’d love to come for Christmas.”

“Oh, thank God,” Eddie lets out in a rush. “Because I miss you so much.”

You grin to yourself and curl up on your side.

“I miss you too,” you tell him quietly.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, and there’s an edge to his voice that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Yeah,” you say, voice going lower.

“Mmm,” Eddie hums and your thighs clench together at the sound. “How much?”

“So much,” you tell him as you roll onto your back. “So much it hurts.”

“Hurts where, baby?” The pitch of his voice lowering makes you bite your lip and slide a hand down your chest. God, you hope this is going where you think it’s going.

“My heart,” you start off. “And…other places.”

Eddie’s groan gives you the last hint of motivation you need to slip your hand down your sweatpants.

“What places, baby?”

The nickname has you slipping your hand into your panties as well.

“Gonna make me say it?” you ask, breath becoming labored. There’s material rustling on the other end of the phone and the thought of Eddie in the same position as you has you arching your back.

“Mhmm,” Eddie hums, his own breaths coming quicker. “Wanna hear you.”

“Fuck,” you moan out softly as you start to slide your fingers through your folds. You’d touched yourself countless times since coming home from Indiana, but never while talking to Eddie.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” Eddie asks. His voice is rough and ragged, and it only makes you wetter.

“Got my hand down my panties,” you tell him, cheeks burning at the admission.

He lets out a moan as your middle finger rubs right over your clit, the combination leading you to moan out as well.

“What’re y-you doing?” you ask once you’ve slightly recovered.

“Dick in my hand,” Eddie stutters out.

“Wish I was there to see,” you tell him, and he chokes on a laugh.

“Fuck, me too, baby,” he says. “What else would you do if you were here?”

The nastiest thoughts flash through your mind and, surprisingly, you don’t feel the need to hide them from Eddie. He makes you feel at ease, even stepping out of your comfort zone like this.

“Shit, I’d lick you from base to tip.” The small noises coming from the back of Eddie’s throat encourage you. “I’m not sure how good of a gag reflex I have but I’d let you test that out on me as much as you’d like. Over and over. And I’d swallow every last drop you gave me. Fuck, bet you have a pretty dick.”

“Not as pretty as your pussy must be, baby,” he answers.

You bite your lip and let out a whimper. The sound of Eddie’s slick hand working over himself comes through the phone and you slip a finger inside of yourself.

“Bet you taste fucking perfect, too,” Eddie adds, and your hips canter off the mattress.

“What would you do if I was there?” you ask. “Taste me?”

“Oh, fuck, yes. Shit, I’d devour you like you were my last meal. How would you want me to touch you, baby? Tell me.”

“Everywhere,” you whine out with a pathetic moan. “I want your hands all over my body. Maybe squeeze at my tits as you go down on me. Would you like that?”

The growl you get in response tells you that he would.

“Hell yes, baby. Shit. Bet you’re so tight. First, so tight around my tongue and fingers. Then my cock. Squeezing me so well. Like a good fucking girl.”

“God, you’re killing me,” you say with a breathy laugh, working your middle finger in and out of your pussy.

“Feeling’s mutual, princess,” Eddie groans out. “Rub your clit for me, baby?”

You don’t need to be told twice. You slip your finger out of your drenched core and run it over your clit, applying the perfect pressure as you rub back and forth.

“I-I am,” you whimper.

The sounds of Eddie’s heavy breaths and fist gliding over his cock keep you company as you work yourself closer to the edge. Sweat is making your sweatshirt stick to your stomach and rub against your sensitive nipples, but you can’t bring yourself to take your other hand off the phone to take it off. Eddie’s sounds are addicting, and you don’t want to miss a second of them.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close,” Eddie whines.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh,” he says. “Was half hard the moment I heard your voice.”

His words make you moan and rub tighter circles over your throbbing clit.

“Eddie,” you whine.

“Gonna make me cum even faster, gorgeous,” he says.

“Do it,” you sigh out. “Want to cum with you.”

“Close, princess?”

“Uh huh.”

“Come on, baby,” Eddie says. “Fuck, can’t wait to do this in person.”

“Shit, Eddie,” you cry out at his words. “M’gonna cum.”

“Let go, sweetheart,” he moans.

You cry out as your back arches off the bed, orgasm overtaking you. Eddie’s groan and whimper from the other end of the phone lets you know he’s cumming too, and the image has you rubbing your clit even quicker to milk your orgasm out.

Breaths coming out in heavy pants, your body collapses back against the bed. You giggle to yourself when you hear Eddie breathing the same way that you are.

“Still with me?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Eddie says between breaths. “Fuck, that was good.”

“Oh yeah,” you agree. Using the back of your wrist, you wipe some sweat off your forehead as you cuddle back against your pillow. “Now, what was that about doing this in person?”

“Huh?” Eddie asks, breath and voice slowly returning to normal. “Shit, I didn’t mean to-.”

“Eddie!” You laugh as he starts to ramble. “I was going to say I was looking forward to it.”

“Oh.” Relief is evident in his voice. He lets out an awkward chuckle and you can hear fabric rustling from his end. You imagine him tucking himself back in his pants and you lick over your lips. “Well, I mean, we don’t have a guest room. So, if you’re gonna be staying here you’ve only got the one option.”

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and you close your eyes to picture it. His hair is probably all messy over his pillow with sweat making a few pieces stick to his forehead.

“Slumber party, huh?”

“Only if you want, baby,” Eddie says. “I wouldn’t force you to do anything.”

“I know that,” you assure him. “I guess I should tell you something, though.”

“Anything, sweetheart. You know that.”

After what the two of you just did together you should not be feeling nervous with him. But you can’t help it as your thumb comes up to your mouth and you gnash your teeth against the corner of your nail.

“What we just did is the farthest I’ve ever gone,” you tell him. “I’m a virgin, Eddie.”

“Oh, is that all?” Eddie says and you feel your heart relax.

“I didn’t think you’d care,” you get out in a rush. “Just can be a weird topic to talk about.”

“That’s true,” Eddie says. “So, it’s good you brought it up, because now I can tell you that I’m a virgin too.”

“Really?” you say before thinking better of it. You squeeze your eyes closed because you can’t imagine how that must’ve sounded. “I-I just mean I’m surprised because you’re like…ridiculously hot. And I have a hard time believing girls wouldn’t throw themselves at you. Especially at your shows.”

Eddie laughs and it’s both genuine and self-deprecating.

“You flatter me, baby,” he says. “But our shows usually consisted of an audience of half a dozen barflies until I met Nancy and the crew.”

“No groupies?” you ask.

“Not a one.”

“Well,” you say with a shrug, even though Eddie can’t see you. “I’d be happy to be a Corroded Coffin groupie.”

“Is that so?” he muses.

“Please, sir?” You bite your lip at the blush clinging to your face as you utter the words.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans and it turns into a chuckle. “You say shit like that we’re going to have to go another round.”

“Isn’t my job as a groupie to tease you?” The innocent tone of your voice isn’t lost on you nor Eddie.

“You’re really good at it already.”

Giggling, you sit up in your bed and hug your knees to your chest.

“Not to change the subject, but I’m going to before I get distracted too,” you say. “If I’m going to be there for Christmas, I’m going to have to get on buying a present for my secret Santa. Think you could give me a few ideas?”

“Sure thing, princess,” Eddie says. “Who’d you get?”

“Max,” you tell him.

“Oh, Red’s pretty easy. She likes comics, especially Wonder Woman. She skateboards. Uh, what else? Big Kate Bush fan.”

“What about clothes?” you ask. “Jewelry?”

“Shit, I wouldn’t be able to help you out with those. She doesn’t really wear jewelry and I couldn’t even tell you what kind of clothes she wears, really. Never paid attention.”

“Hmm, okay,” you hum as you slip your feet further under your blankets. “I’ll keep all that in mind. Now, who’d you get?”

“Robin,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I have no clue what to get her.”

“If you’re still stuck when I get there, we could always go shopping together?”

“I am the worst shopper in the history of the world,” Eddie groans. “I’d love to have you with me. I’ll hold your hand and buy you hot chocolate.”

You duck your head with a bashful laugh.

“Sold.”

Finals week was always hell, but you had to admit, the thought of seeing Eddie soon helped ease the pain a bit. You and Nancy spent most evenings held up in whoever’s room was free of its roommate, pouring over notes, shuffling flash cards, and quizzing each other back and forth. It pays off, the both of you feeling pretty confident once all tests are said and done.

Nancy gives you a hug and tells you she’ll see you in a week before she catches her ride to the airport. Unfortunately, Shelby wasn’t leaving for break until the day after you, so you were forced to share the room until you’re able to get in your car and go.

Once you do though, you realize it wasn’t really anything to look forward to. You’d either be arriving at an empty apartment, or one where your mother was. You’re not sure which is worse. Just as you’re about to pull your car onto the highway and out of Boston though, a store catches your eye, and you make a U-turn to get a closer look.

You park your car and smile to yourself as you see the custom skateboards on display in the windows. Inside the store, the boards are even nicer. The decks are all hand painted, the clerk tells you, and you’re amazed at the talent as you take in all the vibrant and beautiful works. One in particular catches your eye and you know you’ve found the right present.

The apartment is silent when you arrive home. The only noises are from the surrounding tenant’s homes. There’s Christmas music playing somewhere a few doors down and someone on the floor above you has their shower running. The smell of stale air wafts through the rooms and you wonder when the last time your mom cracked a window was.

You drag your suitcase to your small room in the corner of the apartment and flop down on your twin-sized bed. It smells just as stale as the air, so you get up and decide to throw your blankets and some clothes from your closet into the laundry.

It’s well after dark when your mom arrives home, and if you were expecting to be greeted with excitement, you were wrong. Luckily, experience had taught you not to hold your breath on that. A hug hello, some vague questions about school, then she’s off to bed. Not that you mind at all. In fact, you decide to get comfortable in your bed of clean sheets and try to get some sleep yourself. Burying your face in your pillow, you inhale the clean scent of the detergent you used. It’s a nice smell, but it gives you an even better idea. You roll onto your back and smile to yourself as you stare up at the ceiling. Eddie may not be your boyfriend, but you doubt he’d care if you borrowed a t-shirt or sweatshirt to bring back with you when school starts again. The thought of having something you could hold in your dorm bed that belongs to Eddie, his scent all over it, makes you giddy, and you let out a short giggle into the dark room.

The day you get to spend with your niece is by far the best day you have at home in New Hampshire. She’s the sweetest seven-year-old you’ve ever met in your life and the fact that she adores you warms your heart. Chloe is by far your favorite relative, even though that wasn’t a very high bar to begin with. The princess dress you gave her lit up her face in a way that brought tears to your eyes. Her hug was bone-crushing for such a small child, and you took advantage of every second of it. The only reason you don’t cry as you say goodbye to her and your sister is because you know you’re seeing Eddie very soon.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” Chloe had asked you as you tossed your bag into your car. You sat down sideways in the driver’s seat and pulled her over to hold her tiny hands in your own.

“I’m going to see a friend for Christmas,” you told her.

“Who?”

“His name is Eddie.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Her face wrinkled up in an adorable and excited seven-year-old fashion. It made you laugh, and you pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Maybe.” He wasn’t technically, but you weren’t about to explain the complexities to her. Plus, after your upcoming trip, he might be.

The escalator leading down to the baggage claim level in the Indianapolis airport moves far too slowly for your liking. Everyone else seems content with the pace, but you’re practically buzzing with nervous energy. The family in front of you can’t move fast enough out of your way as they step off, leaving you irritated as you try to navigate your way around them. You manage to get clear of the crowd without smacking anyone with your backpack and make your way over to where Eddie will be waiting.

“Excuse me, miss,” you hear from behind you. “But I can’t help but notice how devastatingly gorgeous you are.” The smile on your face as you turn around at the familiar voice is so wide it feels like it’s going to fall off your face. “Do you think I could interest you in spending Christmas with me?”

Eddie’s grin matches your own and you fling yourself in his arms. He catches you with a joyful laugh, managing to slip his hands under your backpack so he can lift you up. A squeal leaves your lips as you wrap your legs around his adorably tiny waist, and the two of you squeeze one another so hard you’re surprised you don’t meld into one body.

“I missed you so much,” Eddie mumbles into your hair.

“I missed you, too,” you say. You pull back to look at him, infectious grin still on his face as he holds you. Taking his face between your hands, you press a firm kiss on his lips. He chuckles against your mouth, and you press a few more quick pecks to his lips before you unwrap your legs from his body. He sets you down and you bounce up and down on the balls of your feet.

“How are you even more beautiful than I remember?” Eddie asks as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I guess the same way that you’re even more handsome than I remember,” you answer.

Eddie rests his forehead against yours and gives your lips one more peck. He slips his hand into yours and you lace your fingers together.

“Let's go get your bag,” Eddie says.

Gentlemanly as ever, Eddie carries your bags to his van and loads them in the back. Before he lets you get in though, he takes advantage of the empty parking garage around you and gently presses you up against the passenger door. The devilish smirk he sends you makes your tummy buzz and your toes curl in your boots. He leans in and presses his lips against yours in a searing kiss, knocking the breath from your lungs. Your arms come up to wind around his neck, fingers coming up to tangle in the hair at the base of his neck. His tongue licks across your top lip and you gladly open them to him. The van is cold against your back, but Eddie’s warming you up plenty. His hands rest on your hips, thumbs rubbing up against the soft material of your coat. You never knew a gray concrete parking garage could be so romantic.

On the ride to Eddie’s, neither of you shuts up. If someone had told you that you’d meet someone who you would talk to on the phone for hours at a time multiple days a week, but still find things to talk about all the time, you wouldn’t have believed them. But there were never silences, let alone awkward ones, with Eddie. As you got closer to his place you actually had a twenty-minute conversation about the shoes Eddie was wearing.

“Shit, I forgot to ask you,” Eddie says, suddenly seeming a little nervous. “Nancy and Steve want to have lunch with us tomorrow afternoon. That okay with you?”

“Of course,” you tell him. He doesn’t seem relaxed by your answer, so you reach over and put your hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a nod, but you’re not convinced.

“What, are you nervous to go on a double date?” you ask with a chuckle.

He smiles over at you and reaches up to grab the hand you placed on him. He gives it a squeeze before putting it back on the wheel.

“Never nervous to spend time with you, baby. Oh, I should tell you,” Eddie says as you drive past the sign welcoming you to Hawkins. “Wayne took the night off from work tonight. He wants to have dinner with you, it being your first day here and all.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” you say, smiling over at him.

“It’ll probably be pizza, nothing fancy,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Pizza is better than fancy every time, Eddie. Duh,” you say. “I’m kind of nervous to meet your uncle though, to be honest.”

Eddie lets out a laugh and shakes his head.

“Nervous to meet Wayne? Oh sweetheart, trust me, nothing to be nervous about. He likes to act like a hardass with me, but he’s a teddy bear deep down.”

“Okay,” you say, and take a deep breath.

Eddie’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

“It does mean though…” he trails off and you look at him in concern.

“What? What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I mean, with Wayne there I don’t really think we should, ya know-.”

You cut him off with a laugh and shake your head.

“Eddie, baby,” you say, and you notice him flush at the nickname. “I’m going to be here for a while. We have plenty of time for all that fun stuff. A lot of it.”

Eddie groans and gently bangs his head against his headrest.

“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he says through a chuckle.

“Oh yeah?” Your voice hikes up at the end and Eddie clocks the way you adjust your crossed legs, thighs squeezing closer together.

“Been half hard since I saw you,” he admits, cheeks turning even darker.

“I mean, I could help you with that,” you say, cheeks flaming red yourself.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” You blush even redder at how quickly you replied. “You’ll need to tell me what to do, though. Like, h-how you like it. I’ve never done this before.”

“Shit, baby,” Eddie says, and you squeeze your legs together even tighter at the endearment. “I doubt you could do anything I wouldn’t like. But yeah, I’ll talk you through it.”

Eddie pulls the van up to a red light and you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over closer to him. Your hand goes to reach for his zipper when the van is jerked from behind. Eddie immediately reaches out to grab you since you’re not wearing your seatbelt, and he curses under his breath as the vehicle gently rocks back and forth from the hit.

“Someone hit the van?” You’re almost positive that’s what happened, but your head was a bit dazed from thoughts of what you were about to do.

“Yeah,” Eddie says as he puts the van in park. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say as you get back in your seat. “Are you?”

“Fine. Just pissed.” Eddie sighs before he opens the driver’s door. “I’ll be right back. You stay nice and warm in here, princess.”

Eddie slams the door behind him and after a few moments you hear him yell, “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

You open the passenger side door and hop out, closing it behind you and heading to the back of the van to see what was wrong. You’re expecting horrible damage, injured people, or Eddie getting ready to kick someone’s ass. But what you see makes you laugh, and you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the sound.

The curly-haired boy you met last month, Dustin, is getting out of the car behind the van, a grimace on his face, looking paler than you remember. An older man gets out of the passenger side with a clipboard and your eyes trail to the top of the car where there’s a red sign that says, “Student Driver.”

“Shit, Eddie,” Dustin says. “I’m so sorry. I got excited when I saw your van and then I forgot which pedal was which and I just…oh!”

Dustin sees you and grins. You chuckle and send him a small wave, but Eddie is still glaring at him.

“Are you okay?” the driving instructor asks.

“Fine,” Eddie says, eyes not leaving Dustin. The boy shrinks under his gaze.

“Are you okay, Dustin?” you ask.

“I’m fine.”

“For now,” Eddie growls out.

You inspect the back of the van, but you don’t see a single scratch. Dustin’s lucky. Whoever pays his bills is lucky too because you doubt the driving school would have taken any damage lightly.

“Should we call the police?” the instructor asks but Eddie waves him off.

“It’s fine,” Eddie says. He puts his hands on his hips and sighs. You walk over to him and put your hand on his back, rubbing gently, and it seems to calm him.

“I’m so sorry,” Dustin says but Eddie shakes his head at the boy.

“He’ll forgive you,” you assure Dustin. “He’s just a little worked up.”

How you manage not to smirk at your double entendre, you don’t know. Eddie huffs out a chuckle though and nods his head.

“Everyone’s okay,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Plus, I know you’ll make it up to me, Henderson.”

“How?” Dustin asks.

“That’s up to you,” Eddie calls to him as he turns back towards the van, slinging his arm over your shoulders. You giggle and bury your head in Eddie’s neck as he walks you back to your door.

“Bye, Dustin!” you shout as Eddie opens the passenger door for you.

The echo of Dustin’s responding goodbye is cut off when Eddie shuts the door. He climbs in the driver’s side and lets out a mixture of a groan and a sigh as he puts the car in drive.

“I love him,” you tell Eddie as he continues down the road.

“He’s a pain in the ass,” Eddie says, but there’s a fond smile on his face.

There’s a sign that comes into view that announces Forest Hills trailer park is half a mile up the road. Despite Eddie’s reassurance earlier, you start to feel the knot of anxiety in your stomach again. The only family in Eddie’s life is Wayne, so what would happen if he didn’t like you? A large hand comes over to cover yours and you realize you have been fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. Eddie’s thumb rubs over your hand and you shoot him a grateful smile.

Eddie pulls the van into the trailer park, and you look around, taking in his neighborhood.

“It’s a trailer park,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “Not much to look at.”

“This is where you live. What you see every day,” you say. “I’m interested.”

He smiles to himself as you crane your neck to take in everything. Eddie isn’t sure he’s ever had someone interested in his life like this before. Certainly there wasn’t anyone who was ever nervous about meeting his uncle. The thought of someone being nervous to meet Wayne was truly hilarious to him.

The van parks in front of the trailer and Eddie’s stomach drops as he sees you frown at the small dwelling. You’d known all along he lives in a trailer, but is it even worse than you imagined? Is it too small? Too dirty? Eddie licks over his lips and runs his hands over the steering wheel just to do something with his nervous energy.

“You don’t have any Christmas lights up,” you say, turning to face him.

Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief and a smile comes to his face.

“I guess we don’t,” he says. “I don’t think we own any, actually.”

He lets out a laugh at your affronted face and leans over to press a kiss to your cheek.

“You’re so cute,” he says.

“Don’t try to sweet talk your way out of decorations, mister.” But you can’t help but smile at his actions.

“How about we go to the store tomorrow? You can pick out what you think looks best.”

“Wait. Are you telling me you don’t have decorations inside either?”

“We do not.”

“What about a tree?”

Eddie grimaces and your jaw drops open.

“Eddie! No tree?”

“Okay, I was planning on getting one,” he says, holding his hands up in defense. “Just haven’t yet. I usually pick up whatever’s left on the lot a few days before Christmas.”

“So, a Charlie Brown Christmas tree?” you ask.

“Pretty much,” he says. “Now come on. Let’s get inside where I can show you my room.”

You laugh as Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you. He throws you a wink before he hops out and opens the back door to get your bags. Following him over to the steps, you rub your hands up and down your arms, partially out of coldness and partially out of nerves. Since his hands are full, you reach around and turn the doorknob for him, and he knocks the door all the way open with his hip. Eddie sets your bags down just inside the door and takes your hand in his as you step inside. He closes the door behind you as you look around the living room, taking in the mugs and hats that make up the decor.

“My favorite mug is the Garfield one,” you tell Eddie.

“Got that when I was six,” he says. He lets go of your hand to wrap both of his arms around you from behind. He rests his chin on your shoulder and you lean back in his embrace.

“I bet you were an adorable six-year-old,” you say.

“I looked like little orphan Annie with the curls and all.”

You laugh but it dies in your throat as you hear footsteps coming down the hallway.

“Relax,” Eddie whispers in your ear, giving your waist a squeeze before stepping out from behind you.

A weathered but friendly looking man steps into the living room and the smile he gives you reminds you of Eddie’s. His blue and black flannel makes you wonder if he and Eddie ever steal each other's clothes.

“Well, you must be the young lady I’ve heard so much about.”

Both you and Eddie blush at his words.

“I guess that’s me,” you say with a shrug. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Oh, please doll, no need to be so formal. Wayne is fine. It’s great to meet you too, though.” He steps forward and offers you his hand, which you shake gladly. Eddie wraps an arm around your waist and Wayne turns his gaze on his nephew.

“What took you so long, boy?”

“Had a little fender bender,” Eddie admits with a sigh. Wayne reaches over and smacks Eddie upside the head, making you cough out a laugh. “Ow, what the hell?”

“Her first day here and you’re already getting in a car accident?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Eddie protests.

Wayne huffs and crosses his arms across his chest.

“My apologies then.” He turns to you and leans in conspiratorially. “Boy had to take his driving test three times.”

“Okay, thank you Wayne,” Eddie says, stomping down the hallway, dragging a giggling you behind him. He tugs you into a bedroom at the end of the hall and it’s instantly recognizable as his room.

You let his hand drop from yours as you walk around, taking in the small space.

“Believe it or not, I cleaned up,” Eddie says, scratching the back of his head.

“I believe you,” you say, shooting him a playful smirk that makes him roll his eyes. You stroll over to the Corroded Coffin banner hanging on the wall and Eddie sidles up beside you.

“I want to see your band play,” you say.

“We haven’t played together since Jeff went off to college.” Eddie tugs you against his side and presses a kiss into your hair. You lay your head on his shoulder with a smile, giddy that he keeps his hands on your every chance he gets.

“Is he home for Christmas?” you ask.

He pulls back and looks at you, a grin sliding on his face.

“He is. You’re a genius.” He presses another kiss to your head and your cheeks heat up at this one. “Maybe the guys will want a little reunion.”

“Will you play this?” you ask, nodding to the guitar hanging adjacent to where you’re standing.

“Sure will. She’s my sweetheart.” Your eyebrows pull together in a frown and Eddie coos at you. “Aw, baby. She’s my first sweetheart. You’re my number one sweetheart.”

When you keep frowning Eddie takes his thumb and runs it over the lines on your face.

“What’s the difference?” you ask.

“Well, I loved her first and I -.” His face turns beet red, and you can’t help the smile that lights up your face.

“And you what, Eddie?” you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“And I, uh.” Eddie coughs, avoiding your eyes. “I have you as my sweetheart now. I mean, um.”

As adorable as his scrambling is, you can’t take how uncomfortable he looks so you raise yourself up on your toes and press a kiss to his lips. Eddie sighs in relief against your lips and rests his hands on your hips.

“You’re cute when you ramble,” you mumble against his mouth.

“M’glad,” he mumbles back. “You’re cute all the time.”

The doorbell rings and Eddie rests his forehead against yours.

“That’ll be the pizza,” he says. “On the one hand, I’m hungry. On the other hand, I want our mouths to be busy with different things.”

A flush comes up your body as you pull away from him.

“Eat first, lots of kissing later,” you tell him.

Dinner with Wayne and Eddie is nice, and you’re surprised at how funny Wayne is. He tells stories from his younger days, even making Eddie laugh as well, though he’s probably heard these stories so many times he could tell them himself.

“So,” Wayne says as he wipes his hands off on a napkin. “Eddie tells me you go to college with the Wheeler girl?”

“I do,” you affirm. “Emerson College. I love it, but Boston is very cold right now.”

“I don’t know how much better it is here,” Eddie says, leaning to look out the window, checking for any signs of snow.

“What’re you studying?” Wayne asks.

“Psychology.”

“So, is my nephew your first patient?”

You break out into a fit of giggles and Eddie’s dropped jaw and affronted face makes you laugh even harder. Wayne lets out his own chuckle and shrugs his shoulders.

“I’ve never gotten to embarrass Eddie in front of a girl before. I’m taking full advantage of this,” Wayne says.

“Aww, Eddie,” you coo, while still laughing, and rest your head on his shoulder.

“I’m going across the street to have dinner with Max,” Eddie says, even as he reaches for another slice of pizza.

“Max lives here?” you ask with a smile.

“Sure does. She’s a good kid,” Wayne says. “Bit of a mouth on her, but she’s a good kid.”

“I’ll have to say hi when you’re at work one day.” You pout up at Eddie, jutting your lower lip out.

“I got a few days off though,” Eddie says, slipping an arm around you as he shoves the pizza into his mouth. “I’ll only be coming back smelling like oil and gasoline a few days.”

“Y’all have any plans while you’re here?” Wayne asks.

“Well, I promised we’d get some decorations to make this place look more festive,” Eddie says. “Getting a tree, of course. Anything else you want to do while you’re here?”

“Nothing specific,” you say with a shrug. “Told Nancy I’d see her, of course.”

“Indiana sure ain’t known for being a tourist destination,” Wayne says.

“But I’m here,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. You know he’s joking, but he’s also right.

“Well, I wouldn’t spend Christmas with just anyone,” you say.

“And we’re glad to have you,” Wayne says.

“Very,” Eddie adds, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Out of all the films that made up Eddie and Wayne’s small collection, not one was a Christmas movie. Luckily, Frosty the Snowman is on television, followed by How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Wayne reclines in his chair, and you curl up next to Eddie on the couch to watch the animated programs. Eddie’s arm is wrapped snugly around you the whole time, and he pays more attention to the fact that he’s holding you than he does to the storylines.

As you’re getting ready for bed in the small bathroom, your tummy erupts in an excited sort of nerves at the fact that you’re sharing a bed with Eddie. A rather small bed, too. Part of you is glad it's winter and you’re wearing warm plaid pajama pants and an oversized Boston Bruins t-shirt, because you know you would’ve put pressure on yourself to wear more suggestive items to bed if it were warmer.

You open the bathroom door, and your socked feet pad down the hall to Eddie’s room, where he’s already lounging, one arm up over his head and the other resting on his stomach. His own plaid pajamas bottoms - black, instead of the pink ones on your bottom half - sitting low on his hips and his gray faded Dio shirt making him look hotter than he had any right to be. He smiles when you walk in and lifts his hips up so he can pull down the blankets for the both of you. There’s a pleasant buzzing sensation in your limbs as you slip into the bed next to him. He automatically wraps his arms around you, and you cuddle into his chest.

“You’re warm,” you mumble against his shirt.

“You’re hot,” he says, and you break into a giggle, burying your face in his neck.

You tilt your head up and press a kiss to the underside of Eddie’s chin.

“What time are we meeting Steve and Nancy tomorrow?” you ask.

Eddie gets that nervous look about him like he did in the van when he originally told you about the plans.

“They’re going to come here, actually,” he says, running his hand up and down your back. “Bringing food from a diner down the road from Steve that he loves, so prepare for him to bring half the menu.”

“Fine with me.” You run your nose up to behind Eddie’s ear and you feel him shiver under your touch. The echoes from the television drift down the hall and you’re pretty sure it’s the only thing keeping the two of you from jumping one another.

Eddie reaches behind him to flip the light off and curls back into you, resting his forehead against yours.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi, you.”

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you say. “No one I’d rather spend Christmas with.”

“No?” he asks. “Not even your niece?”

“Eh, that means I’d have to spend it with my sister too, though, so no.”

He chuckles and presses his lips against yours.

“No one I’d rather spend it with either,” he says. “But there is something I want to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“Well,” he says, and even in the darkness you can tell that his face is getting pink. “I realized that even though we’ve been pretty inseparable since we met, I’ve never even asked you on a date.”

“Eddie,” you giggle his name against his lips. “That is so sweet. But we’ve had phone sex, I came to stay with you for Christmas, and I’m pretty sure we’re losing our virginities to each other real damn soon, so I think we’re a little past that.”

“Okay, fair,” Eddie agrees with a breathy laugh. “What about you being my girlfriend then? Can I ask you about that?”

“You can.” You rub your hands over his chest. “But I’m pretty sure you know what the answer will be.”

“I hope so.” He pecks your lips again. “But I want to ask anyway.”

“Go ahead then.”

“Be my girlfriend? Like, officially?”

“Depends,” you say with a smile. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

He purses his lips and lets out a hum before responding.

“Can I think about it?”

“Fine,” you say with a shrug. You take your hands off him and go to take the covers off of your body. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll just go sleep at Nancy’s until you decide.”

He laughs and wraps his arms around your middle as you go to get up.

“No!” he whines and pulls your body back down against his. Back pressed against his chest, he squeezes you in his arms and presses loud smacking kisses against the back of your neck. “I’ve been yours since I first saw you.”

The grin his words bring to your face makes your cheek muscles ache.

“I could say the same,” you tell him.

“Shit, how’d I get so lucky?” he whispers into your hair.

“By being so cute, I guess.”

He hums a chuckle and tucks the blankets up around the two of you.

“We should probably try to sleep,” he says.

“Probably. But I don’t want to.”

“Me neither.”

The sun is almost up by the time you finally fall asleep in his arms. You’re used to hearing his voice right before you sleep from your regular phone calls, but it’s even better having his voice up close and personal right in your ear. Eddie falls asleep soon after you but still wakes up first.

As consciousness comes drifting back to him, he’s aware there’s something warm in his arms. His brow furrows before the apple scent of your shampoo jogs his memory, and a smile comes to his face as he huddles closer to your warmth. His eyes break open and the smile grows as he sees your sleeping face on the pillow next to his. Your face is so peaceful and calm, and it makes his heart stutter at how beautiful you look. He reaches up and softly strokes his thumb over your cheekbone, his eyes taking in every little detail of your face. There were times that Eddie thought he’d never get a girl to even say yes to going on a date with him, yet here he is, not even a month after meeting you, lying next to the girl he’s positive he’s falling in love with. And he finds it even crazier that you seem to feel the same way about him.

You start to move in his arms and Eddie stays still so he doesn’t disturb you. His hand drops down to your hip as you turn on your side and snuggle closer to him. He can’t help but press a gentle kiss on your forehead, lips pulled up in a grin against your skin. A hum leaves your throat and Eddie looks down at you at the noise. You blink your eyes open, lashes fluttering as your eyes adjust from sleep.

“Morning, gorgeous.”

At the sound of Eddie’s voice your head tips up and you meet his gaze. A smile lights up your face and Eddie presses another kiss to your forehead.

“Morning, handsome,” you reply.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks.

“Good,” you say with a dreamy sigh. You nuzzle your head into Eddie’s neck, and he wraps you up in his arms. He knows he should get up and get dressed, but he can’t bring himself to get up. It’s partially because he’s dreading the conversation he knows he needs to have with you. If he wants to have sex with you - and Lord knows he does - that means he’s going to have to take his shirt off. You’re the first person Eddie has met whom he’s positive won’t judge him on how gruesome they look. But that doesn’t mean you won’t ask how he got them.

“How’d you sleep?” you ask him and start peppering kisses up his neck.

“Best I ever have, I think,” he says, eyes fluttering closed. A moan slips out his lips and the vibration from the sound travels down his throat and into your lips. “You keep doing that and we’re never getting out of this bed.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” you speak against his skin.

Eddie agrees, but the knot in his stomach is from nerves as opposed to hormones - though there was definitely some of that too. The thought of you seeing his scars without any warning beforehand is the only thing keeping him from stripping the both of you naked in record time.

“Baby,” Eddie says, pulling away from your lips. “We should get up and get ready.”

A whine slips out as you bury your face in Eddie’s chest.

“Don’t wanna,” you say.

“Me neither,” Eddie says as he pushes the blankets off the two of you. “But I don’t want Steve coming in here and seeing you in your sexy pajamas.”

You laugh as you look down at your cozy attire, but your cheeks heat up at his words, nonetheless. Eddie slides out of the bed and tugs the blankets all the way off you. He smirks as his cold hands grab at your ankles and pull you down towards the foot of the bed. A squeal leaves your lips as you squirm, trying to escape his freezing fingers.

“Up, baby, up!”

“I’ll get up if you kiss me,” you offer.

“Ugh, if I have to.” He walks over to your side of the bed and leans down, pressing his lips quickly against yours. “Deals a deal, princess.”

With a huff, you climb out of the warm bed and search through your suitcase for some clothes for the day. Once both you and Eddie get dressed, he leads you into the living room and pulls you into his lap on the couch.

“There’s something I want to tell you,” he says, running one hand up and down your jean clad thigh.

“What’s up?” you ask as you card one of your hands through his hair.

He lets out a sigh and licks over his lips, avoiding your eyes. You frown and press a kiss to the top of his head.

“You can tell me anything, sweetheart,” you tell him.

There are tears in his eyes as he looks up at you, but he gives you a grateful smile.

“Do, um, do you remember the, uh, story Nancy and I told you? About what happened back in March?” He massages his fingers over your thigh, eyes trailing the patterns he’s making.

“Of course.”

“Well, uh, it was all the truth. But there’s even more to it.”

You tilt his chin up so he’s looking you in the eyes.

“Eddie, you can tell me.”

“It’s kind of hard to believe,” he says, hand patting your leg nervously.

“You’ve not lied to me yet,” you say with a shrug.

With a deep breath, Eddie begins to tell you a story that seems like it was ripped from one of the fantasy novels you love, only much more sinister. A tear escapes his eye and makes its way down his cheek as he recalls his near-death experience with the otherworldly creatures.

“And there were these bats—we called them ‘demobats,’ because of the demogorgon,” he explains, anxiously tapping his fingers along your leg. “I tried to fight them off, tried to buy more time, but they…they got me. Pinned me to the ground and tore out chunks of my skin. Hurt like fuckin’ hell.” He gnaws on his lower lip. “I would’ve been dead if Harrington and Henderson didn’t drag me outta there. Sometimes…sometimes, I wonder if I would’ve been better off dead.”

The last line is what breaks your heart most of all. Tears were already raining down your face, but at this last admission, you throw your arms around Eddie’s neck and squeeze him so tightly that it has to be uncomfortable for him.

“No,” you gasp against his neck. “No, don’t ever say that.”

You feel the emotion get the better of him as his body starts to shake, his own breath hitching as he begins crying in earnest. He clings to you and the pads of his fingers dig into your back as he buries his face in your neck. The two of you cry together, you try to soothe Eddie by rubbing his back and pressing kisses into his hair while doing so.

“You’re safe now, Eddie,” you whisper to him once your own crying has subsided for the most part. “I’ve got you.”

He nods in recognition of your words, but his tears don’t cease. You just keep holding him, willing to never move from his lap again if it meant you could give him even an ounce of comfort. After a few long minutes, you feel his body relax under your touch. He pulls his head away from your neck and you pull back as well so you can see his face. It’s red and splotchy, his eyes are swollen, and traces of snot are on the end of his nose. He’s still the most beautiful man you’ve seen in your life. Moving slowly, not wanting to scare him or to give him time to pull away if he wants, you lean in and gently press your lips to his. Your hands come to cup his face as you pull away, looking at him through your own teary eyes.

“Eddie, wow.” You shake your head, not even sure where to begin. “Sweetheart,” you say, tilting his head to make sure he’s looking you in the eyes as you say this. “You’re a hero.”

He immediately shakes his head, and it hurts your heart.

“You are,” you insist. “You didn’t have to go back in like you did. It seems you were specifically told not to. But you did because you wanted to help. To give them the best chance. Even if it meant something terrible at your own expense.”

Eddie looks up at you under his thick lashes, big brown eyes even more childlike while shiny from tears.

“Sounds like a hero to me, babe,” you tell him.

He lets out a sigh and rubs the palm of his hand against his eye.

“I didn’t think I’d cry like that,” Eddie admits. “But I’ve also never told the story before, either.”

“What?” You move some hair off his face, stuck there because of the tears. “Not even Wayne.”

Eddie shakes his head.

“I couldn’t do that to him. He was worried enough as it was, I wasn’t about to add to it. He knows plenty, just not every gory detail. But you deserved to know the truth. Because I’m hoping you’ll be around for a while.” It’s the first time you’ve heard him sound shy and unsure of himself. It makes sense his confidence would be a little rattled after telling you that nightmare-come-true.

“I’ll be around as long as you’ll have me,” you assure him. “And Eddie? It really means a lot to me that you’ve trusted me with this. I know it wasn’t easy. And I need you to know I appreciate it.”

He gives you a small smile and you take it as a small victory.

“There’s another reason I wanted to tell you, too,” he says. He’s avoiding your eyes again and it makes the knot in your stomach start tightening again.

“What, baby?” you bring your hand to cup his cheek and press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Well, the, uh, attack. It left some…some fucking nasty scars.”

The way his face blushes in embarrassment makes you want to strangle any creature, native to this dimension or not, who ever caused Eddie a bit of harm.

“So, you wanted to tell me before I see you without your shirt on,” you guess.

He nods his head, cheeks still red.

“Eddie, look at me.” When he does, you continue. “It wouldn’t matter to me if you had scars on every square inch of skin on your body. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and something as trivial as scars could never change that no matter how hard they tried. I may not have seen your body under your clothes yet, but what I have seen?” You lean in to whisper in his ear. “I love.”

Eddie looks up at you questioningly and you move yourself so you’re straddling his lap. Your hands wind behind his head and you interlock your fingers against the back of his neck.

“Your smile was what I noticed first. It’s so genuine and bright, I almost couldn’t believe it was directed at me when we first met. Then, of course, your amazing hair. It’s far nicer than mine and I’m equal parts jealous and turned on by it. And you know what else drives me crazy? This tiny waist.” You dig your fingers into his sides and Eddie chuckles when it tickles him. “It’s so hot. Really. And I’m not sure if you noticed, but I couldn’t stop staring at your bat tattoos all throughout thanksgiving dinner. It’s the sexiest tattoo I’ve ever seen.”

Eddie’s face is still blushing, but by the smile that’s on his face, you’re optimistic that it’s now for a different reason.

“So, I know for a fact that I’m going to love all the parts of you I haven’t seen bare yet. There’s no scar that’s going to keep me away from you. There’s no wound that’s going to make me not want to have your body pressed up against mine. It’s just not possible.”

Tears begin to well in Eddie’s eyes now, but there’s a light in them that wasn’t there when he was telling his story. His face looks hopeful, but the fact that he thought any of this would change the way you feel about him is absolute ludacris.

“This why Steve and Nancy are coming over?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Eddie admits. “They knew about all the insane shit in this town way before I did. Figured they could answer any questions I couldn’t. And maybe provide proof if you didn’t believe me.”

“I believe you,” you tell him truthfully. “And I also want you to know that you don’t have to show me your scars until you’re ready. I know we talked about having sex but -.”

“No, no, I want to,” Eddie cuts you off. His wide eager eyes make you laugh and lean forward to give him a soft kiss.

“So do I.”

The sound of a car pulling up outside has you and Eddie both looking towards the front door. Wayne had left bright and early this morning, Eddie had told you, meeting up with some old friends who were back in town for the holidays. It made the trailer the perfect place to talk about interdimensional incidents over lunch without prying ears.

There’s a soft set of footsteps that approach the front door, followed by a heavier gate. You slip off your boyfriend’s lap as there’s a gentle knock on the door. A knock you’ve heard on your own dorm door a hundred times before.

“They better be up,” you hear Steve say.

Eddie rolls his eyes as he pushes off the couch. He opens the front door and puts on a fake show of yawning and stretching his muscles out.

“Was I loud?” Steve asks Nancy, to which she responds by rolling her eyes. She steps past the two boys to come inside and give you a hug.

“How was the flight?” she asks.

“Not bad. What about yours?”

“Crying baby, but other than that, can’t complain.”

Eddie helps Steve set all of the food he brought down on the kitchen counter.

“Hey!” Steve calls out to you as he steps around the counter to pull you into a hug. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” you say, squeezing him around his middle.

“I take it from the red eyes, Munson, that the conversation’s already started?” Steve asks.

“My part’s done,” Eddie says with a shrug as he struggles to open a takeout box. He manages to get the lid off and takes a sniff at the food inside. “What is this?”

“Some cornbread thing they said I have to try, I don’t know,” Steve answers.

“Are you…okay?” Nancy asks, clearly not knowing how to ask how you’re feeling about the whole Upside Down thing.

“It’s a bit much,” you admit with a sigh. “A lot to wrap my head around. I mean, I totally believe it, it’s just…”

“A lot to take in?” Steve offers, to which you nod. “I know,” he says. “I walked in on it firsthand. Had a gun pointed to my face, almost wet myself, then came back with a bat full of nails and joined the fight.”

“Who the hell held a gun to your face?” you ask, brow furrowing and Eddie laughs from where he’s going through the food.

Steve shoots a pointed look at his girlfriend, who shrugs and gives you a grimace.

“You almost shot your boyfriend?!” you yell.

“He wasn’t my boyfr- oh. Wait. Yeah, he was my boyfriend then. I guess I did do that. But in my defense, I was trying to make him leave so he didn't get caught up in the whole mess. Clearly, it didn’t work.”

“He takes any excuse to tell a story about his precious bat with the nails, I swear,” Eddie says, coming in from the kitchen with half a turkey sandwich. He holds it up to your lips to offer you a bite, which you take.

“And El really has powers?” you ask.

“We should sit down and eat,” Nancy says, gesturing to the food. “This could take a while.”

Nancy and Steve are able to answer all of your questions so well that even if you had thought this was all some sort of joke, you wouldn’t have any more with all the details they’re giving you. It would take your mind a while to accept this all as a reality, but you know you’re the lucky one because they’ve been through this hell while you’re just trying to imagine it.

“Holy shit,” you say when they’re done. “No wonder you’re all bonded so much. You guys can only talk about this with each other.”

“Yep,” Eddie says. “Also part of why I could never tell you over the phone. But I mean, this is kind of a more in person conversation anyway.”

“Wait, they bug your phone?” you ask.

“They used to,” Nancy says. “Not sure if they still do.”

“I hope not.” Your face blooms red, imagining some government people listening in on your phone sex session with Eddie. Steve catches onto the reason for the color on your face.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “If they are still bugging our phones, nothing you guys said could be any worse than what they’ve already heard from me and Nance.”

Eddie smirks while you turn redder and Nancy hits Steve on the arm.

The couple stay with you and Eddie for a few hours. The conversation moves to lighter topics and after hours of laughter and banter later, it’s almost as if the four of you have forgotten the dark note this visit started out on.

After they leave, with Nancy promising you a shopping trip when Eddie goes back to work in a few days, you feel mentally exhausted. It’s obvious Eddie does as well, so you suggest a good old fashioned snowball fight before it gets too dark out. Eddie accepts the challenge and the two of you dodge each other around the sides of the trailer for over an hour. Slinging scooped and formed bits of snow, cheering when you successfully hit one another, or cursing too loud when you missed. Soon, your bodies feel as tired as your minds, and you head back inside the trailer.

Eddie insists you go through the small movie collection and pick out whatever you want while he heats up some leftovers from lunch and makes two mugs of steaming hot cocoa. You pop in the Carrie VHS and snuggle up with Eddie on the couch. There’s a blanket on the other end of the couch and you reach over for it so you can drape it over you both. As Carrie attends her prom on screen, oblivious to the copious amounts of pig’s blood she’s about to be wearing, Eddie taps on your shoulder and points out the window. Snow is coming down in the evening sky and the sight of it makes you smile. Was there a better way to spend the night? Curled up against your boyfriend’s side with delicious food and hot cocoa, watching a horror movie while there’s snow falling outside.

After Carrie’s hand pops out of the ground at the end, not scaring either of you - even though it definitely did the both of you the first time you saw it - you stretch your legs and roll out your ankles.

“Tired?” Eddie asks.

“Only a little,” you say.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you hum at the feeling of his lips on you.

“Wanna go to bed?” There’s another question in there, but the way his voice deepens as he asks it makes your tummy flip.

“Sure,” you tell him. The blanket falls to the couch as you stand up. Offering a hand to Eddie, you help him up, but he doesn’t let go of your hand all the way to the bedroom. Though you’re the only ones home and will be until sometime the next morning, he still shuts the door behind the two of you.

You turn to face Eddie and see him fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Walking over to him, you take each of his hands in your own. He squeezes them and you lean up to peck his lips.

“We don’t have to,” you say quietly.

His smile is aiming for a smirk but looks gleeful instead.

“I want to as long as you do.”

“Of course,” you tell him. He takes a deep breath, and you grab the bottom of his shirt in your hands. “Can I?”

Eddie nods, anxiety clear in his eyes as you’re about to see his scarred chest and abdomen. You raise the fabric up slowly, giving him the opportunity to stop you at any point if he wants to. But he doesn’t, he just lifts his arms to help you get it over his head.

When he’s there bare chested before you, your mind holds a few thoughts. First is how absolutely breathtaking he looks. You weren’t lying before; you really do love his adorable tiny waist. There’s something so sexy about it. The second thought is that the scars looked like they were incredibly painful when he was first inflicted with them. It makes you want to take down all the mythical beings that ever thought of laying a hand on your boyfriend. The third thought is of how heartbroken you are that Eddie had to go through all of this and still doesn’t see himself as a hero. His battle scars are right there, pink and white jagged lines that show off his bravery and strength. How Eddie sees anything other than that is beyond you.

“Eddie, you’re so beautiful,” you say, eyes glued to his chest. He’s watching your face carefully, but you can’t tell because your eyes are tracing the patterns the injured skin created. “Can I…can I touch them? Do they hurt?”

“They don’t hurt anymore,” he assures you. “And yeah, you can touch them if you want.”

You waste no time and start to lightly run your fingers over the healed wounds, mapping out Eddie’s chest. It’s obvious where the demobats took the largest bites of his body, and you ghost your fingertips over those areas as well.

“I don’t know why you were afraid to tell me about these,” you say, eyes never straying from the puckered flesh of his body. “They’re beautiful. Every single bit.”

His chest flushes pink at your words and you’re assuming his face does the same. Your hands keep going further down until they rest at his waistband. His belt buckle makes you smile as you try to figure out how to undo the handcuffs.

“This okay?” you ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you open one of the cuffs.

“S’perfect, baby,” he whines. Already so needy for you. The thought sends a buzz through your body before finally settling between your legs.

You get the belt buckle undone and he helps you push his pants down past his hips. He steps out of them, kicking them behind him somewhere. Eddie’s fingers ghost over the hem of your t-shirt. He searches your face for approval, and when you nod at him, he slides your shirt up and over your head. You’d worn your nicest bra today because you figured Eddie would be seeing it. It’s black lace, the only one you have matching panties of, which you also wore today. The way Eddie’s eyes trail your torso makes you want to cover yourself. Your arms even flinch to do so, but then you remember how vulnerable Eddie is being by letting you see his scars, and you leave your arms where they are.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in the air between you. The flush on your cheeks spreads down to your chest and it makes Eddie grin like a kid in a candy store. He leans in to whisper in your ear. “Now, whenever I make you blush, I’ll know just how far down it’s going.”

The color on your skin only darkens at his words, and you also feel the effect they have down in your core. As Eddie reaches for the button of your jeans, you reach up and cup his face in your hands. He leans in and kisses you softly as he pops the button open and starts to push the material down. You wiggle your hips to help, but that causes him to groan against your lips. You giggle as you pull back.

“I was just trying to help,” you say.

“And it was sexy,” he says. “Oh, and fuck, so are those.” He looks like he’s in pain as he stares at your black lace panties. You step out of your jeans and move backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. Eddie follows eagerly, his mouth chasing yours. Lips connected in a tender kiss, Eddie gently lowers you to the bed. You use your elbows to crawl backwards up towards the pillows while never breaking the kiss. Eddie crawls up along your body, hand softly grazing your skin as he goes. You lay back against the pillow and Eddie rests an elbow on either side of your head. He leans in, tilting his head to kiss you at a new angle as he lowers his body gently down on yours. When you feel his clothed erection through his boxers it makes you shiver, causing Eddie to chuckle against your lips.

“What, baby?” he says softly.

“Feels good.” You take his head in your hands to press your mouths together again. “You should take those off.”

He raises a teasing eyebrow at you.

“Want me to be the first one naked, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hum with a soft giggle.

“As you wish.”

Eddie reaches down and pushes his boxers down, leaving you to gasp and bite your lip as he kicks them off his legs.

“Well, shit, Eddie,” you say. “It’s official. Every part of you is fucking perfect.”

Eddie ducks his head, cheeks red at your comment, and presses kisses against your shoulder. He trails his lips up your neck, one hand bracing him up, and the other running over the smooth skin of your hip. Two fingers slip under the band of your panties on your hip, then he lets the material snap back against your skin with a smack. You let out a whimper and Eddie keeps up his ministrations on your neck, working his way up to your jaw.

“Wanna touch you, Eddie,” you whine.

He hums a laugh against your skin.

“I should warn you, baby,” he says against your jaw. “You touching me is going to throw me over the edge.”

“That’s fine,” you purr in his ear. “Gives me plenty of time to work you up again.”

“Fuck.” Eddie drops his forehead to your shoulder. He knows he isn’t going to last long, and you haven’t even touched him yet.

The feeling of his precum dripping onto your stomach makes you even wetter as your legs brush up against one another underneath Eddie.

“So, can I?” you ask shyly. “Can I touch you?”

“‘Course you can, sweetheart.” His voice is gravelly and stuttering. It’s almost making you dizzy, this effect you’re having on him. It’s a different sort of high you want to chase again and again.

“You’re going to have to tell me what to do, baby. How you like,” you say.

Again, Eddie huffs a laugh against your neck.

“Princess, I don’t even know if we’ll get that far. Just… spit on your hand, yeah? Good, like that.”

You do as you’re instructed and slowly start to reach for his dick. It’s not that you don’t want to touch it - because you really, really do - but your inexperience is making you a little anxious, even though you know Eddie has the same inexperience. But he knows his body and you’ve never even seen a penis in real life until this moment. You know basic biology and anatomy but being in this situation is a whole lot different than doing a homework assignment on the male reproductive system.

“Baby, you’re not going to hurt me,” Eddie assures you. “Shit, I’m worried about doing that to you.”

“Guide me?” you ask in a small voice.

“Of course, sweetheart.” Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, nose, then lips. He takes the wrist of your slick hand and brings it down to his cock. He wraps your hand right where he wants it and the moan that comes out of him when your fingers touch him is enough to make you cum yourself.

His skin is surprisingly soft as you finally leave the anxiety behind and now focus on the feeling of him in your hand. Eddie’s hand adjusts your grip, and he shows you how he likes to be stroked. He does it once, twice, three times with you, then lets you go so you can do it on your own.

“S’good?” you ask, your eyes glued to your hand working over his dick.

“Mhm. Fuck.” He had been watching your hand work as well but needed to close his eyes because the sight of you touching him was about to bring him over the edge. “Shit babe, I’m sorry, not gonna last.”

“Good, I want to make you cum,” you say.

Eddie grits his teeth, the muscles of his abdomen tighten underneath his scarred skin, and his fist clenches the pillowcase your head is resting on.

“I-I’m cumming. Holy shit, I’m cumming.”

He barely gets the warning out in time before he’s releasing all over your hand. You stroke him through it, keeping the same consistent pace you were doing before. The thought that you’d get lots and lots of practice with this makes your head spin.

Eddie’s white seed coats both his and your stomach by the time he’s spent, every last drop milked from him.

Watching Eddie come apart on top of you was hands down the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. His face contorted in pleasure, a thin sheen of sweat making his body glisten. He’s never looked more perfect.

With a dopey grin on his face, Eddie tries to get his breathing back to normal as he comes down from his high. He needs to lay down, so he flops down next to you.

“Oh baby, that was…fuck. Perfect, is what it was. Thank you.”

He turns his head towards you to give you a kiss. You smile against his lips, pecking them a few times. Then you look down at your stomach, lines of white looking like a Jackson Pollock painting. You swipe two fingers through it and pop them in your mouth. Eddie moans as he watches you suck his cum off yourself.

“You’re going to get me harder again faster than I thought,” Eddie says with a breathless laugh. “But first, it’s your turn.”

He sits up and scoots down to the foot of the bed. This time when he grabs your ankles his hands aren’t freezing. You giggle as he tugs you down, but the laughter turns into a whine as he begins to slip your panties off. You lift your hips to help him, and he gets them off and tosses them on his nightstand. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he just smirks.

“If I had a back pocket, they’d be put there. But that’ll have to do for now.”

You expect him to spread your legs, but he leans up over your body to kiss your lips. His hand cups your neck, then slides down your shoulder and over your breast. He palms it over the lace and that feeling alone has you closing your eyes and arching your back. His thick fingers trail down the side of the bra until he reaches your back. You sit up just enough for him to reach behind and unclip the bra. You smile to yourself, wondering how long it would take him. He gets it fairly quickly, a triumphant sigh spilling from his lips as he does. The lace straps of the bra feel nice against your heated skin as you slide them down your shoulders and toss the bra off the side of the bed. Eddie’s gaze is hungry, and it sends a jolt of pleasure down your spine.

Eddie gently lowers you back down to the pillows. He starts by kissing your lips, then moves down to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, then up the swell of your breast until he reaches your nipple. His tongue works over it before he takes it into his mouth and lets it go with a satisfying pop. Never one to half ass something, Eddie moves to your other breast to give it the same attention. Once he’s satisfied there - even though he makes a mental note that he wants to put as many hickeys as he can there asap - he kisses down your tummy, hands coming to massage your thighs. The further he slides down your body, he eases himself off the bed until he’s kneeling on the floor. One gentle hand on each knee, he spreads your legs in front of him and a moan comes out at the sight.

“Well shit,” Eddie says, echoing your statement from before. “It’s official. Every part of you is fucking perfect.”

You try your best not to be self-conscious, but it’s hard as no one has ever been down there before. When Eddie starts to press kisses on the inside of your thighs, you feel yourself calm down. You let your eyes slip closed and just try to be in the moment and not in your own head. Just feel Eddie’s lips on your skin, inching closer to the place you want them to be.

“You okay?”

“M’fine,” you say, voice in a dreamy haze. The fact that he’s checking in with you eases your nerves as well.

Kisses go higher and higher, coming to the apex of your thigh. Your body jumps, startled as Eddie’s fingers glide along the outside of your folds.

“Sorry, princess,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You hold up your arm to give him a thumbs up and he chuckles again. You’re glad you’re both able to laugh and be silly with one another with this. It makes it feel more real, more intimate, more you.

Eddie uses his fingers to part your folds and the moan that emanates from his throat is purely pornographic.

“Shit, baby,” he says. “Your pussy is so pretty. Fuck, I bet it tastes as good as it looks.”

Between his words and your anticipation for what’s coming next, you feel the urge to buck your hips up, but manage to hold them still.

Eddie’s thumb ghosts over your clit and your hand immediately fists the sheet below you. Your boyfriend smirks to himself, loving making you squirm like this. It blows his mind that he gets to be with you like this. That he’s going to be able to learn your body. What makes you moan, what makes you scream, how to touch you and kiss you just right to make sure you feel as good as you make him feel.

He wants to take it slow since this is both of your first times, but the urge to just dive into your pussy is so strong. He needs to know how you taste. If it’s as sweet as he’s imagined since he jerked off to the thought of you when he went home after meeting you for the first time.

He runs his thick fingers through your slick folds and lets out a hiss when he feels how wet you are.

“This is all for me, baby? Does me touching you work you up this bad?”

“Yes,” you whine out. “Love it when you touch me. Makes me so wet.”

A growl rattles in Eddie’s chest and he experimentally runs a finger around your hole, but never breaching it.

“How’s it feel when you put your fingers in yourself?” he asks.

“Not enough,” you say, breathing becoming more rapid by the second. “Not big enough. Can't reach deep enough.”

“Think my fingers would be better then, princess?”

“Yes!” The way you practically shout it gives Eddie all the encouragement he needs to slide a finger into your right hole. You barely have time to get used to that before his tongue is assaulting your clit. “Fuck! Oh fuck, Eddie.”

The way you say his name has his cock stirring again. He slips a second finger in with the first and the way you move your hips lets him know you’re starting to feel the stretch. Eddie knows the first time can be painful for girls, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. He wants this to be perfect for you.

As he starts to slowly pump the two fingers in and out of you, Eddie attaches his lips to your clit, sucking on it as he listens to your little whimpers and moans coming from above.

“Like it, baby?” he pulls his mouth away to ask. “God, you’re so fucking tight around my fingers.”

“So much.” You sound like you’re about to cry, but not in a sad way. Overwhelmed, more likely. When Eddie crooks his fingers in a “come hither” motion and hits that sweet, sweet spot inside of you, your hips buck up and you moan a string of eddie-eddie-eddie-eddie’s. Eddie pumps his fingers a few more times before pulling them out. He doesn’t hesitate, his thick fingers covered in your slick go right from your pussy into his mouth. The garbled noise that comes from the back of your throat is part desperation since your hole feels empty now, and partly at how hot it was to watch Eddie lick you off of himself.

“God, you’re even sweeter than I thought,” he says. “So fucking perfect.”

Eddie lifts the back of your knees over his shoulders so he can be up close and personal with your cute little button and pretty little hole. He dives in immediately, licking into your hole, his fingers keeping you open wide as possible for him. He hardens his tongue as he thrusts it inside you and your hand searches for something to grip onto. You settle for another pillow, but that’s fine. You just need something to squeeze as Eddie brings you pure bliss.

Eddie’s tongue moves up to your clit, licking and sucking, and putting just the right amount of pressure on it. The fact that Eddie was only going to get better at this over time blows your mind. This is his first time and he’s already making you feel euphoric.

His mouth moves down again, but he takes a position where every lick he gives to your hole, his nose nudges against your clit, sending shockwaves up your body.

“Eddie, fuck,” you whine. “Gonna cum, baby.”

“Good girl,” Eddie says against your mound. He slides his hands up to cup at your breasts. “Cum for me, princess.”

It only takes a few more swipes of his tongue until your buildup can’t take anymore. White flashes behind your eyelids as your orgasm gets its hooks in you. The arching of your back was involuntary, and the whimpers and moans you’re making are sounds you didn’t know you were capable of producing. Head thrown back in the pillow, thighs closing around Eddie’s head, you feel ecstasy in this moment. It washes over your body, wading and cresting like waves on a beach.

Letting out a deep breath, you relax all the muscles that have tightened up, including the ones holding your boyfriend’s head between your legs, and melt into the sheets of the bed.

Eddie’s smirk is triumphant as he crawls up the bed, hovering over you as you try to catch your breath.

“So, how was that?”

“Holy shit,” is your only answer and it seems to satisfy him.

Eddie leans down and presses a loving kiss to your lips.

“I can’t wait until I can get a better view of your face when you cum. I bet it’s breathtaking. Your sounds alone are enough for me to get off to for years. But I must say, the view I had was pretty fucking amazing. Damn, baby. The way your pretty little hole kept sucking my fingers in. And your adorable little clit that I could play with all day.”

His words turn you scarlet red and you try to turn your head to hide it in the pillow. Eddie’s not having it though and uses one hand to tilt your chin back towards him.

“You better get used to me giving you compliments, sweet thing. It’s only going to get worse now that you’re officially my girlfriend.”

“How do you always make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside?” you ask.

“Because I’m basically a metal teddy bear,” he says, drinking up his nose in the most adorable fashion.

“You are!” The title fits him so well that you can’t help but laugh.

Eddie chuckles and leans in for another kiss. It starts off tender and innocent enough, but quickly evolves to all tongues and teeth, and Eddie starts pawing at your breasts. Your hips raise off the bed and rub against Eddie’s, where you can feel his cock, hard again now.

“Eddie,” you whine as he moves his kisses to your neck.

“Yeah, baby?” He’s leaving a hickey that will definitely show, even if you wear a turtleneck.

“Need you.”

He hums against your skin as his hands roam the expanses of bare skin before him.

“How, sweetheart? Tell me how.”

“Need you in me,” you whimper. “Need you so close.”

Eddie leans over your body, and it places one of his most gruesome scars right in front of your face. Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you place a soft kiss against the patch of pink and white skin. There’s a smile on Eddie’s face as he comes back with a condom and small tube of lube in hand.

You watch as Eddie slips the condom on. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but you can’t take your eyes off his long, thick cock. If just two of his fingers made you feel the stretch, you can’t imagine how full you’ll feel with all of Eddie buried inside you.

He grabs the lube and shrugs as he pours some into his hand. The smell of cherries floods the air.

“Just wanna be extra careful,” he explains as he fists the lube over his cock. “I want to make it as painless for you as I can.”

“You are the absolute sweetest,” you tell him.

Once the lube is sufficiently applied, you lay back against the pillows and watch Eddie settle between your legs. He grabs a spare pillow and taps the side of your hip. You raise them so he can slide the pillow under.

Eddie leans up and presses a slow and loving kiss against your lips.

“Ready, princess?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Kiss me while you go in?”

He did not need to be told twice. Eddie lines himself up with your entrance, and barely breaches you. You hardly feel a thing as Eddie comes up and kisses you, pouring all his devotion and heart into it. His hand snakes between your bodies as well to start rubbing your clit. Maybe between the kissing and the attention on your clit will help ease any discomfort you might have. The sting and burn are still there though, but it’s more bearable with the world's best kisses.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you, sweetheart,” Eddie says against your lips.

“N-Not hurting,” you say, hand coming up to grip at his shoulder.

Eddie nods, kissing your neck. “Let me know what you need. I’ll give you whatever you n-need.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, baby.” You wrap your legs around his, helping to guide him in.

Eddie groans and the sound makes you tremble with pleasure. “Shit, you feel s’fucking perfect. Like we were made for each other.”

“Uh huh,” you pant out, one hand sliding up to tangle in Eddie’s hair. There’s a pinch and you feel a sting between your legs as Eddie bottoms out, but you don’t say anything as you feel his hot kisses on your skin. It doesn’t hurt for long, and you know Eddie would pause his motions, but that’s the last thing you want.

“F-Faster, Eddie,” you say. “Want more.”

His kisses trail up to your lips and his hips pick up speed.

“This good, baby?” he asks.

“Yes. Fuck, yes.”

His hand moves from your clit to squeeze your hip. He holds it in his tight grip as his hips start to piston in and out of you, his pace becoming more irregular. It gives you a warm feeling in your limbs as you realize you can already recognize when Eddie is close to cumming. You clench around him, and he gasps, hand sliding from your hip to cup your breast.

“I can’t believe how fucking tight you are, baby,” he groans. “Such a perfect pussy.”

With a moan, you arch your back, forcing your breast even more into your boyfriend’s hand.

“Eddie, you’re so big. Love how you fill me up.”

“M’close. Wanna hold out but you feel too good around me.” His lips capture yours and you’re instantly licking into his mouth. Your hand tugs gently on his hair and his hips snap forward, the mattress creaking in protest at the ferocity. You pull back and rest your forehead against Eddie’s.

“Want you to feel good,” you say. “Want you to cum.”

A guttural moan comes from his throat and it’s enough to make you orgasm on the spot. His sounds are music to your ears, and you’d listen to him make them for the rest of your lives if he let you.

“Gonna, baby. Gonna cum.”

You nod at him, encouraging him as your fingers scratch at his scalp. He goes to bury his face in your neck, but you stop him.

“Wanna see your face,” you tell him. “Wanna watch you.”

Eddie nods, sweat beading on his forehead as his face scrunches in pleasure. He looks so beautiful you can’t help but steal a few more kisses.

“Cum for me, Eddie.”

The words are all he needs, his hips thrusting once, twice, before a whine leaves his lips as he spills inside the condom. The feeling of his cock twitching inside of you sends a flutter through you and a smile spreads on your face. Eddie’s eyes focus on your face as he rides out his high, and a matching smile grows on his face as he takes in your flushed and grinning face.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Eddie says between ragged breaths.

You reach up and cup his face in your hands and bring his lips down to yours. Never taking his mouth off of yours, he slips out of you and lays down next to you on the bed.

You reluctantly pull away when you need air, but you rest your hands on Eddie’s chest so you’re still touching him in some way. He slips out of the condom, ties it off, and tosses it in the trash can next to his bed. When he rolls back over to face you, you wrap your arms around his neck, and he pulls your body against his.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says.

“Good, baby?”

“Good? Good? Try fucking amazing,” Eddie says. He peppers kisses all over your face, making you giggle. “I’m sorry you didn’t cum though, baby.”

“Sweetie, I did,” you tell him. “Because of your sinful mouth.”

Eddie ducks his head bashfully, a red tint coming to his cheeks.

“Yeah, but not while I was in you.”

“That’s okay,” you say honestly. You push some of the damp hair from his forehead and kiss his cheek. “Most girls don’t the first time like that. But my boyfriend is generous and made sure I was taken care of beforehand.”

His hand trails up and down your back as he smiles down at you.

“Was my pleasure, baby. Trust me.”

With a giggle, you slip from his arms and off the bed. He pouts but you assure him you’ll be right back before slipping into the bathroom. Your sister never taught you much in life, but once piece of advice she’d given you is to pee after sex. When you walk back into Eddie’s room, his face is still blissed out as he stares up at the ceiling. He lifts his head when he sees you in the doorway and raises an eyebrow at you.

“All good?”

“Mhmm,” you say, making your way back to the bed. “There was only a little bit of blood.”

Eddie sits up quickly, frown coming to his face.

“What? Blood? Are you okay? Was I too rough?”

The concern on his face melts your heart and you shake your head as you sit down next to him.

“Oh, baby, no.” He pulls you into his lap and you rest your hands on his shoulders. “It’s just something that happens the first time. You were perfect. Thank you for being so careful with me.”

Eddie nods and rests his forehead against yours.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Sleepy?” you ask.

His responding yawn makes you chuckle, and you slide from his lap. You grab your panties from the nightstand and Eddie’s shirt from the floor and slip them on.

“You’re not gonna stay naked?” Eddie asks with a pout.

“It’s freezing!” you say.

“I’ll keep you warm.” Eddie lays down and opens his arms for you. You scoop his boxers up from the floor and toss them at his chest before slipping under the covers. He pulls them up his hips and situates himself back against the pillows.

Blankets pulled up to your neck, you sling your arm over Eddie’s middle and lay your head on his shoulder. Wrapped up in his embrace, you’ve never felt happier. The two of you whisper back and forth in the dark room for a few moments before you drift off to sleep, warm and cozy in each other’s arms.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #WTHI

1K notes · View notes

huihuiyi · 6 months

Text

tips for studying —! from d’s to a’s 🪽 🧠

not doing so well in school lately? having some focusing issues? getting super distracted yet upset at your grades? yeah me to ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

because of this i’ve been getting some pretty bad grades, but they’ve gone up tremendously and here’s how i did it ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢt꒱₊˚⊹

- focus focus focus !

turn off your phone, notifications put all distractions away! if you have a really hard time focusing try this:

time yourself and see how long it takes for you to get distracted when studying, then when you start to drift off see how long it took. for example i got distracted after twenty minutes then study twenty minutes and take five minute breaks in between and slowly increase the time! works like magic ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

- blurting !

this truly saved me life, after studying your content try blurting! get a piece of paper and write every single thing you know related to the topic or what you’ve learnt then look back at your notes and see what you’ve missed and focus on those topics more. do this as many times as you need to until you understand and remember everything!!

- understand the content !!

remember, studying isn’t just about remembering the content and implementing it onto your test it’s about understanding! that’s what tests are really for , so when you’re studying please don’t rush and just remember key words or diagrams without understanding it. even if it isn’t interesting try and find it interesting it really helps !

- answer and ask questions in class !!

i’m going to be honest this is really hard for me haha but i’ve been starting to ask my teachers for help and answering my friends questions to. this seems really silly but it’s so helpful and even if you get something wrong you’ll be corrected in the end so ask some questions and answer some to <3!

- sleep 💤 !!

this is also related to focus. make sure to get enough sleep, eat healthy and start taking care of yourself. drink lots of water! you hear this everywhere but once i started caring i started to have all this energy and it helped me so much in class so take care of yourself !

- be active in class !!

this is so hard for me omg but still write notes ask questions and stay focused and do really well!

i hope these helped, if they don’t then please ask me and tell me!! i hope everyone who reads this gets amazing grades and as we enter the new year i hope everyone is extremely lucky and happy <33

reblogs are appreciated and please like if you found this helpful 🎀🪽 part 2 coming soon…!

139 notes · View notes

closurechilde · 3 months

Text

ROSE GARDEN FILLED WITH THORNS

HI, I SAW THIS BEAUTIFUL RING (image at the end) AND I JUST THOUGHT ABOUT THIS AND *dies*

Cw. Kinda angst??? (HAPPY ENDING DW!!!!)

Behind the winery lies a beautiful rose garden that you've grown yourself after moving in with him.

This garden has many kinds of roses: there's pink, yellow, white, some that are double-colored, and of course, the classic red ones alongside some others.

Diluc knows that this is your way to busy yourself while he takes care of the winery, besides the fact that you make a bit of money by selling a few bouquets of them to Flora, who sells them in the city.

It's something you love, really. It's your hobby, your passion, your entertainment, you name it.

He knows that.

And he knows he did dirty when the flowers started to die.

It was in a recent fight when he said "You spend more time with those stupid flowers than with me!"

The look on your face was something that kept making him feel this anguish in his chest that made him want to rip his heart out of it so he couldn't feel it anymore.

You didn't answer. You just nodded and turned on your heels to head out of his office.

After he piped down and replayed the scene in his head, he knew he had no right to say that. After all, he was always busy either with the winery or his darknight hero activities.

He wanted to apologize but he couldn't find the moment nor the words. And you didn't want to touch the topic.

So, one morning, when he got up from his chair to stretch a bit and look at you tending your garden, he saw the most heart-wrenching sight he could've ever imagined.

Your roses were no longer blooming. In fact, they were losing their petals and you were nowhere near.

He knows that, when your roses start to lose their petals, you cut them and make a little bouquet for his office and the living room.

But now? Now he feels like the worst person on all Teyvat.

He decides to take matters into his own hands. He gets the nearest pair of scissors he has and goes outside to your garden.

He looks through it carefully, as if selecting the finest grapes for his finest wine.

"You're doing it wrong." A soft voice says. Not in a bad way, though. More in like a Let-me-teach-you way.

"How do I do it, then?" He asks as you approach him to correct the way he's cutting the roses.

"You should use a specific scissor too, but I have to go inside and I don't want to." You say and he chuckles.

The garden is silent. The only sound that surrounds you two is the birds, the movement of the leaves of the trees and your roses, and the sound of scissors.

"Why... were you letting them die?" He asks in a rather scared way.

"Because you said I spent too much time here so I just... stopped taking care of them." You answer.

"But why? This is your passion! Your hobby! And also kinda your work." He says.

"I just... Don't know. I didn't want to make you upset after the fight and I just... stopped." You answer and he sighs, turning to the side to fully look at you and not at the plant.

"We both know that I never would be upset at you for doing something you love, honey." He smiles. "I was tired and it made me snap in a way that I shouldn't and that I'm ashamed of." He tells you. "Are you... able to forgive me?" He asks, making you smile and chuckle.

"Of course, I do." You say and he leans to kiss you softly on your lips.

A few weeks pass after this conversation you had with him and you start to take care of your garden again! Your roses bloom all over it again and he can't help but smile every time you come running to tell him that your flowers are blooming beautifully again with a huge smile that reminds him of the first time they blossomed.

One night, you're walking alongside him through it, showing him the result of your love and hard work. He waits until you're fully engrossed in your roses rambling to kneel and take out the velvet box.

"And that's why red-wine roses remind me of you-" You stop in your tracks when you turn around and see he's on his knee and with a ring.

"Will you-?" You don't let him finish that you're leaning down to kiss him and crying, and nodding and chanting 'yes's while he chuckles and gets up, putting on the ring and caressing it .

"I love you... and your rose garden where your red-wine roses remind you of me." He teases.

You giggle and kiss him again. "I love you, too."

HI, HELLO

Here's the ring that inspired this :p

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x you

130 notes · View notes

okiedoketm · 3 months

Note

There's a scene in One Piece where Koby is talking about his frustration and disappointment with the Marines as an institution, and Helmeppo tells him "Well, you just have to become some big shot and fix it all, right?" and Koby agrees with him, and that's got me thinking about how, in canon, Koby's endgame is pretty clearly going to be exactly that -- he's set up as not only Garp's successor but as the one who will surpass him. Koby's goal is to become so powerful and so influential that he's able to enforce massive reforms on The World Government's Entire Military, which is. No small task! Koby's motives are so selfless that it's easy to overlook that, actually, he's aiming for just as much power and prestige as the other top hitters. This man, like so many others in One Piece, is trying to swallow the sun, and it's been made clear that he's one of the few who has what it takes to actually succeed.

And that has me thinking about people constantly being surprised and confused by Zoro's loyalty to Luffy, because Zoro could be a pirate captain in his own right. People keep expecting him to be gunning for the crown, and we're told that if he did, honestly, he might make it! Zoro has the makings to be Pirate King, or at least to be a top dog, an emperor of the sea. People see his skill and his ambition and they assume, and every time he has to be like "Nah man, you got it wrong, my dreams start and end with that grinning rubber idiot over there. Yes, really."

and all of THAT has me thinking about Koby's Bad Day, and how hilarious it would be if Koby ALSO dealt with that on occasion. Technically he already does have experience as captain of his own crew (although being a captain in the navy isn't really the same kind of autonomy and freedom as a pirate captain, that's not Nothing!) and he certainly has the skills and the strength to get peoples' attention. However, unlike Zoro, Koby is very much Just Hanging Out. Like, Zoro knows he's hot shit, and it doesn't surprise him when other people point it out to him. He understands where the confusion comes from. He just corrects people and moves on. But Koby? If somebody just started assuming that Koby must clearly be the REAL captain, or that obviously Koby must want the Pirate King title for himself, I think Koby would explode. I don't think he'd know how to react. And I think it would be really, really funny.

Anyway I'm just sharing thoughts cause I'm on a reread. Thank you so much for writing this fic btw, easily one of my faves and reading it is always such a blast.

Man. My inbox loooves not showing me messages. Sorry to answer this so late!

First of all you are SO right, Koby would combust at the idea of being a contender for Pirate King. Where on earth would anyone get that idea?? Well, Koby, you’re a very powerful pirate with potentially the best observation haki in the entire world. People are gonna assume.

But of course Koby still mentally thinks of himself as a Good Boy, hasn’t fully reconciled with the fact that he is objectively and inarguably a pirate, in a world where most pirates are back-stabbing scumbags. He’s a member of Luffy’s crew, he is very proud to call him Captain! But honestly I think he sometimes forgets that they’re pirates, since 90% of the time they’re not doing anything illegal 😂

Combine that with the fact that he chronically underestimates how strong he really is, and that he is Luffy’s most ardent supporter? Yeah the Pirate King comments would BAFFLE him.

Thanks so much for sending this ask! I’m so happy you enjoyed KANGVCD enough to re-read it! It means a lot!

#asks #kangvcd #koby’s awful no good very confusing day #one piece #wren don’t look

55 notes · View notes

goosewriting · 1 year

Note

The turtles get walked in on by the reader as they were talking to April about how bad they got it for the for them, and theirs just an awkward silence from the April so the turtle slowly turns around to see the reader and April slowly leaves the two. Theirs a little awkward chat and the reader says to meet them up on a rooftop. Meanwhile the turtles freaking out wondering how they're gonna be let down. They meet on the roof and the turtle trys to explain themselves until the reader quickly stops them and holds their hands its a really cute confession for both of them thank you 💗💗 your writing is so good 😌👍🏾 I love everything that you made so far

Rooftops and confessions (rottmnt x reader)

summary: reader overhears turtle talking to April about his crush on them.

relationship: Rise Leo, Raph, Mikey Donnie x GN reader

warnings: fluff!, first kisses (except Donnie), idiots in love

word count: 4.2k

A/N: as i was writing i noticed i went in some directions that i had gotten asks for! so i decided to combine a bunch :3 sorry that some are longer than others; I partially wrote this on a train lol thank you for the kind words, anons<3 i really hope you’ll like these; raph’s is my fave piece of him i’ve written so far :D for reasons, this takes place not long before the movie. enjoy >:’)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

You were happily skipping into the lair; it was movie night and you just returned from a successful snack hunt. Aside from everyone’s favourite candy and chips, you had also found a rare brand that you loved but didn’t find everywhere, so of course you bought as many as you could fit into your backpack. You couldn’t wait to see the boys’ reaction to it and hoped they’d love it as much as you did.

Upon entering the lair you made your way towards the kitchen, where you heard some voices. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but managed to catch the last part of the conversation.

“…this is getting out of hand, I think I’m actually gonna explode tonight”, one of the brothers spoke.

“Why don’t you just confess to Y/n already?” April retorted, slightly exasperated.

“What? Look at me. They would never-“ His sentence ended abruptly as you walked through the open door. The enthusiasm in your step had you turning the corner and walking into the room with such speed that even if you had wanted to stop at the door when hearing those words, you wouldn't have been able to.

The turtle stood a couple of steps away, April in front of him but facing away from you, so she hadn’t seen you enter. His eyes had gone big as dinner plates when he saw you, a blush starting to cover his whole face.

“They would never what? I’m sure they’re the least person to care ab-!” April wasn’t able to finish her sentence as the turtle hastily turned her around by the shoulders, so that she could finally see you.

“Y/n, you’re back!” April greeted you with a loud, somewhat forced laugh. Seeing that you had brought the food, she took everything you were carrying, and scurried off to the projector room, claiming she was gonna set it up. And just like that you two were left alone.

“So, uh, how much did you hear?” the turtle asked after what seemed like an eternity of awkward silence. He wasn’t able to look you in the eye.

“Enough, I guess…” you answered, your brain going a thousand miles a minute.

Enough to figure out what’s going on and realising you feel the same as me, is what you meant.

Enough to be kinda grossed out by you, and I hope we never talk again, is what he understood.

Realising that if you didn’t solve this right now, the whole movie evening would be super awkward and weird, you decided you had to take the matter into your own hands. Averting your eyes to the side, you told him without an explanation to meet you on the roof of that one shop you usually go to (it’s just across the lair entrance and has a nice view from up top), and left. So now you were gone as well and the turtle was left alone in the kitchen with his mind running. He inhaled sharply, brought his hands to his face and groaned loudly.

While the poor guy was mentally and emotionally preparing himself to be rejected by his favourite person in the world, you were hastingly making your way to the roof, trying to calm your erratic breathing and crazy heart, because you had actually been crushing on him so hard for some time now, too.

Once on the roof, you paced back and forth along the railing, replaying the conversation from before in your mind. On one side you couldn’t help the goofy smile spreading on your face because your crush liked you back, apparently. On the other hand you also heard him say “look at me” in a derogatory way. Did he really think you didn’t find him physically attractive because he was a mutant?

Just as you were trying to find the best way to word your feelings, you heard the ladder clattering behind you under the weight of a certain turtle.

🔵 Leo

Leo approached you with some sort of sad determination. He was barely able to keep his smug façade, and it kinda broke your heart. You’d have to clear things up as quickly as possible.

“So… what’s up?” Leo asked with a nod. He stood a couple of steps away from you, so as to not get into your space, and crossed his arms in front of his chest in a defensive manner.

“I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop earlier, Leo” you explained. “I just really wanted to get back to all of you with the food. You said something that has me a little curious though.” You tried to give him the most genuine and non-judging look you could. “After telling April to look at you, you said that I would never… something. What were you gonna say?”

Leo grimaced and sighed, deflating a little. He turned to the side, holding onto the railing with both hands. You mirrored him, so now you both stood facing the bustling city. After some moments of just looking at nothing, he spoke.

“April was telling me to ask you out. I’ve actually liked you for a while now. Like, a lot.” He stole a quick glance at you to gauge your reaction. “But it’s obvious you’d never be interested in a mutant turtle, so I understand if you don’t wanna hang out anymore or something.” The last part he said with a bit of a bite to his voice. Probably not directed at you, but at himself.

“Ah, but you see, Leonardo, that’s where you’re wrong” you said, closing the distance to stand right next to him. Gently you pulled on his arm to turn him so you were facing each other. The gesture and the use of his full name had him all kinds of confused, but he didn’t dare to pull away.

“Before coming to such conclusions you should have consulted with me first, you know. For the record, I like what I see” you added, giving him a quick once-over, referring to him being a mutant. As your words started weighing in on him, Leo’s eyes grew bigger and bigger, an adorable blush adorning his cheeks. He eagerly awaited for you to continue, but you were actually waiting for him to say the magic words, so you guessed he needed just a little bit more encouragement. “I don’t want to take the chance from you because I just know that if I do, you’ll never let me live it down. So, go ahead Leo. Ask me.” you told him. In a rush of adrenaline and boldness, you moved down your hand, which was still on his arm, and took his hand in yours. You could have sworn you saw his breath hitch.

Leo’s last brain cell had exited the chat the moment you had touched his arm, so while he knew what you wanted from him, and he damn well also wanted it himself, he was unable to produce a sound. You patiently waited, slightly amused at how you could see the figurative gears in his head turning at ungodly speeds, and smiled at him expectantly.

The lights of the city reflected on your skin, enveloping your figure in an almost surreal aura in Leo’s eyes, and his other hand came up to cup your face. You flinched slightly in surprise, but were quick to lean into his touch to reassure him. You were so beautiful, smart, generous. How in the world did he end up here like this with you?

“Are you sure about this?” he asked instead, his insecurities suddenly getting the best of him.

“What do you mean?” you retorted, slightly confused. Had you misunderstood him?

“Well, I know I can be a lot. And honestly you’re way out of my league” Leo said with a sad smile. “I’m moody and get distracted easily, always make a game out of everything. You deserve better…” He started withdrawing his hand from your cheek, but you grabbed onto his wrist and held it in place, also giving his other hand a squeeze.

“Isn’t that for me to decide?” you said with furrowed brows, and started rambling, unable to stop yourself, trying to get through that thick skull of his. “I’d like to think that by now I know you, Leo. And I know you can be cocky and impulsive and kind of a flirt. But I also know just as well how big of a heart you have; you’d probably sacrifice yourself for someone else without a second thought. I know how funny and laidback you can be, but you know how to be serious as well when it matters.” You removed your hand from his wrist and placed it on his chest, looking at him with almost pleading eyes. “I like your voice, your stripes, your corny pick-up lines. I like all of you Leo, in and out, and I want it all for myself.”

Leo just stood there, looking at you in awe and disbelief. Is that really how you felt about him? And all this time he had held back from making a move. With a smile and a light scoff, he just kept looking at you, memorising every detail of your face, glowing in the city lights.

Since he still wasn’t responding, you gave him a light push.

“C’mon, don’t leave me hanging here…” you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks as you had just confessed all of that to him. Leo savoured the moment just a little more, then decided he had made you wait long enough.

“If that’s really how you feel, then will you go out with me?” he finally asked. Your eager ‘Finally! Yes!’, combined with your words from before, filled up his ego again; it was now bursting. Giving you his signature cocky smirk, his body language changed completely. Letting go of your hand, he grabbed onto your waist instead and pulled you closer. The hand on your cheek ended up at the back of your head, in your hair. The soft look in his gaze shifted, now looking at you hungrily.

“I wanna kiss you so bad right now” Leo whispered, and you felt your body go up in flames.

“Do it, coward” you further provoked him.

Leo dipped his head, capturing your lips in his. The first kiss was chaste but lingering and full of longing. He pulled back ever so slightly and went back in again, this time slanting his mouth for a better angle and deepening the kiss. He pulled you impossibly closer against him and your hands wandered up from his chest to his neck, as you held his face.

Let’s just say movie night was long forgotten as you two finally were able to show each other how much you both had waited for this moment.

🔴 Raph

Raph approached you the way big or tall people walk when they’re trying to make themselves smaller, which made your chest tighten in pain. Your feelings for this turtle were astronomical, he should be walking with his head held high and chest puffed out. Just you wait until I tell you, you thought, already knowing you’d very much enjoy the facial expressions you were about to witness.

There were a couple of big wooden crates on the roof, and you gestured for him to sit on one. You took a seat across from him, cross-legged, trying to seem relaxed so he’d be more at ease, and not like you were scared of him or something.

“I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop earlier, Raph” you explained. “I just really wanted to get back to all of you with the food. You said something that has me a little curious though.” You tried to give him the most genuine and non-judging look you could. “After telling April to look at you, you said that I would never… something. What were you gonna say?”

Raph gave a dry chuckle, daring to look at you as if to see if you were serious. Seeing that you were earnestly waiting for his response, he hung his head low in embarrassment.

“I was gonna say you would never date someone who looks like… this” Raph said, gesturing to himself with one hand, before resting his arm on his knee again. “April was telling me to ask you out, but I knew there’s zero chance you’d agree, so… I wanted to save us both the hassle of going through that.”

“Raph” you called his name, and waited for him to lift his head to meet your eyes. To his surprise, you were not looking at him in disgust, but with pure adoration.

“All of this”, you said, gesturing to him like he did before, “Mwah!” You made a chef’s kiss gesture, bringing your fingers together to your lips, then opening your hand. “And the person and soul behind it? Even more so.”

Raph blinked once, twice. No response. You smiled.

“What I’m trying to say, Raph, is April was right. You should have asked me out, while you could.”

This confused Raph even more. While he could? Was it too late now? Was there… someone else?

Deciding that you had tortured this poor boy enough, you shook your head slightly in amusement, smiling to yourself. You got off the crate, coming to stand in front of Raph. With him sitting, you were now on eye-level. You brought your hands up to gingerly hold his face and brushed over his cheekbones with your thumbs. You saw him straighten up and inhale sharply, as his cheeks turned darker and darker, his eyes unable to look away from yours.

“I like you too, you green, spiky doofus” you confessed. “So now, I am asking you: will you be my boyfriend?”

The turtle was completely frozen where he sat, not moving a single muscle. After a few seconds of silence, you squished his cheeks a little.

“Raph, I want you to be my boyfriend. …Are you gonna make me beg?” Still no response. Now you had done it, Raph.exe had stopped working entirely. Letting go of his face, you took a step back and turned to leave. “Too bad; had you said yes, you would have gotten a kiss…”

“W-Wait!” he yelled, and grabbed your waist, pulling you back towards him. As he finally snapped back to reality, he underestimated the force of his action, and instead of just turning you around to face him again, he fully pulled you towards him, so that you were now standing between his legs, chests almost touching. This caught you by surprise as well and you held onto his shoulders for balance. Now your blush was rivalling his.

“That’s not fair; I wanted to be the one to ask!” Raph protested with a laugh. “You know I want to say yes, but… Are you sure? I’m not exactly easy on the eyes.” His gaze started shifting away from yours, so you once again held his face, this time with more confidence, and made him look at you.

“Is your skull as thick as your shell?” You asked rhetorically, not in a scolding tone but more in a playful manner. “Listen carefully, Rapahel, and dutifully absorb this information into your brain: You are as handsome as you are green. I like how you care about your brothers, how you always protect everyone and lead responsibly. I like how selfless you are. I like that you can take a joke, but that you know how to take things seriously. I like how you can both be tender and gentle, as well as strong and unbreakable. I feel safe and acknowledged around you. The fact that this amazing person before me came in the body of a giant turtle is just the cherry on top of everything else.”

Raph was completely speechless. He had hung onto every word, and you saw his eyes starting to gloss over. You had just poured out your entire heart to him, and he needed you to know that he felt the same way about you. Even so he was unable to come up with a response on the spot that could come even close to what you had just said, and he started racking his brain for something, anything.

You didn’t take his silence as something negative. Heck, if someone just dumped all of this on you out of nowhere, you’d also be at a loss for words. He needed to process it. Even though you knew this, you couldn’t resist any longer.

“To sum it up: I see you, Raph” you added, and started getting closer. “And I like what I see.”

With that you closed the distance between the two with a kiss. For a second he didn’t react, then you felt his shoulders slump as he sighed into the kiss, tilting his head to the side and fully wrapping his arms around you.

When you finally broke for air, you couldn’t help but pepper him with little kisses on his jaw, the corner of his mouth and the tip of his snout, which made him giggle. For a moment you just stood there looking at each other, taking in everything that had just happened.

“For the record, I do want to be your boyfriend” he finally said with a laugh, realising he hadn’t actually given you a proper answer.

“Well, after all that, I’d sure hope so!” you replied with a laugh of your own.

🟠 Mikey

Mikey got up to the roof with a million thoughts. He had no idea how to approach this, how to approach you.

“Hey, what’s up?” he greeted you and cringed at how forcefully peppy he sounded, given the conversation from before. You went to sit on the old bench that was on the roof, and he joined you.

You brought up one arm to rest on the back of the bench and bent your knees, bringing up your legs onto the bench as well, tucking them under your butt, so you sat sideways facing him.

Looking at him for a second and noticing how nervous he looked, you decided to get to the point.

“I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop earlier, Mikey” you explained. “I just really wanted to get back to all of you with the food. You said something that has me a little curious though.” You tried to give him the most genuine and non-judging look you could. “After telling April to look at you, you said that I would never… something. What were you gonna say?”

Mikey leaned back on the bench and sighed. If you had already heard that much, he might as well come clean. He didn’t like hiding stuff from you anyways, and you’d have discovered his feelings sooner or later anyways. He just didn’t want it to be like this.

“I was gonna say that you’d never be interested in someone like me” he finally says, and looks out to the nocturnal cityscape. “I really didn’t want you to find out like this, but I really like you. I have for a while now.”

You were about to interrupt him to say something, but he held out a hand to stop you, silently asking for you to let him finish first, so you waited.

“And I don’t expect an answer from you; it’d be unfair to put you on the spot like this. I really like like you, but I also like having you as a friend, and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

You waited for a couple more seconds, and seeing that he seemed done with what he wanted to say, you finally spoke as well.

“But what if I want to ruin what we have?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, unsure if he should be hurt by what you said.

“You’re my best friend in the whole world, Mikey, and that will never ever change. But sometimes I do wish we were something more…”

“Huh” was all he could say, trying to not get ahead of himself and get all excited, in case this wasn’t headed the way he thought it was.

“How long have you felt this way?” you asked, suddenly becoming self-conscious and flustered, avoiding his eyes.

“I haven’t really been keeping track of it, but sure has been while now” he replied with a sheepish smile.

“Well, that’s a shame, because it’s been the same for me” you chuckled. “Guess we could have had this conversation a while ago. Good thing I caught you talking to April, huh?”

“So… you’re saying you like like me too?” Mikey asked and reached out for your hand.

“I do” you said and met him halfway, giving his hand a squeeze.

You two just sat there for a while, holding hands, a blush on both your faces. After some minutes of nervous glances and some giggles, you stood up, pulling him with you.

“Now that that’s taken care of, I think we should head back” you said and pointed to the ladder with your chin. “They’ll start movie night without us otherwise and eat all the snacks I oh so carefully picked out.”

“Wait” Mikey said and pulled on your hand, turning you back around to face him. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do forever.”

You didn’t have time to ask what he meant, as he was already closing the distance between you two and planted a chaste but firm kiss on your lips. It was over just as quickly as it started, and while you stood there with a furious blush and a dazed look, he smiled sweetly at you.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be doing that more often” he commented, winked at you, and then pulled you along to the ladder. “Last one back home is a rotten egg!”

🟣 Donnie

Donnie slowly approached you, his eyebrows deeply furrowed, and his arms crossed over his chest protectively.

You leaned back against the railing, waiting for him to join you. As he finally arrived, he stood next to you, facing the cityscape below you. You guessed it would be more comfortable for him to stand like this, facing in opposite directions as you talked, or he’d think you’re confronting or scolding him.

“Thanks for coming, Donnie. You know, I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop earlier” you explained. “I just really wanted to get back to all of you with the food. You said something that has me a little curious though.” You gave him a quick glance from the side, trying to sound the most genuine and non-judging you could. “After telling April to look at you, you said that I would never… something. What were you gonna say?”

For a second, Donnie considered brushing the whole thing off as a joke between him and April, or telling you that you had misheard him. Chewing on his bottom lip, he quickly stole a glance at you; you were looking ahead of you, the faintest of blushes dusting your cheeks, patiently waiting for a response.

He sighed, deciding against dismissing your question; it wouldn’t be fair to you. And it was beneath him to gaslight you. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he also didn’t want to be hurt by you.

“Before I answer that, may I ask a question instead?” he asked.

“Sure” you said.

“Hypothetically speaking, if one of us were to ask you out, would there be a chance of you accepting? Solely regarding our physical appearance.”

“Yes, hypothetically” you answered. “But it would depend on who’s asking; looks aren’t the deciding factor.”

“What if, hypothetically, it was me?”

“Ask for real and find out” you said and finally turned around to face him. He slowly turned as well, his heart pounding in his chest; it was now or never. You smiled at him encouragingly, and he took a deep breath.

“First of all: I like what we have now and I don’t want to lose it” he started, avoiding your eyes. “But for a while now I realised that my feelings for you have… changed. I want to be more than friends, Y/n.”

Finally he met your gaze, and your heart skipped a beat at the seriousness in his eyes.

“Are you hypothetically asking me out, Donatello?” you asked him with a coy smile.

“I am asking you out for real” he stated and shyly took your hands in his. “So, what do you say?”

“I’d love to, Donnie. I’ve liked you for a while now as well, for real.”

His entire body relaxed at your words and a soft smile spread on his face, as he took a moment to process this.

“This is all new to me” he said suddenly. “All I know is you’re important to me, and I don’t want to lose you. Please… be patient with me.”

“There’s no rush” you said, and brought one hand up to gently stroke over his cheek with your knuckles. “We’ll figure it out together. Just talk to me, okay?” He nodded.

“Should we head back?” you asked after a while.

“Yeah” he said and you both turned to leave, but he didn’t let go of your hand as you walked. “I saw you brought some new snacks, can’t wait to try those.”

You hummed in agreement, still in disbelief of what just happened. Despite how much you had been looking forward to them, you weren’t sure how many snacks you’d be able to eat, with all the butterflies fluttering in your belly right now.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @hearteyedracoon @koalaray @maribatshipper @whygz @lovelylovelydreams

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt raph x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 x reader #tmnt 2018

800 notes · View notes

gay4harm · 7 months

Text

Pick a side l part 3

Pairing: Shuriri x reader

Warnings: A bit of angst, this one is mostly about Reader and Shuri, also Shuri is a bit toxic ig but yea das it

Taglist: @s0lam3y, @tishlvr, @belli-3 Interact with this post to be added! :)

It has officially been a week since Shuri and Riri had made the bet and still neither were very close to getting in your pants.

Well correction, Shuri was no closer to getting in your pants. Riri on the other hand had many opportunities to have sex with you and yet she took none of them.

Some might say you were moving to fast but that didn't matter, Riri was just too hard to resist and honestly you were glad Riri would decline on your advances. As soon as she would leave your room to go back to her apartment you would realize what you were doing and the effect Riri had on you, then regret it.

Since Riri mostly had your attention, it was very hard to get you to even look at Shuri. She'd send chocolates and a card or two to your door and had even offered to walk you to class once, but it seemed like everytime you would give her a chance she would suggest to go to some dumb club or would ask to hang at her place. Your answer was always no of course.

Shuri was a very attractive person, you couldn't lie about that, but the problem was that it was clear Shuri didn't want to get to know you at all and all she cared about is what was in between your legs. You had heard of Shuri's track record, you knew she'd fuck girls then leave right after and it seemed like Shuri was a bit proud of it.

Riri on the other end was a lot more lowkey about it, you knew she had at least two bodies but even if there were more Riri wouldn't just let it all out. Riri at least had the decency to tell a girl when it was over, she would at least get to know the person before anything. Shuri on the other hand had notches under her belt that she didn't even know the names of.

All you wanted was someone real and you could see it in Riri but it was much harder to see potential with Shuri, she was by definition a hoe.

The start of a brand new week was coming and as you woke up bright and early on Monday morning, you got up, got ready and as you walk in the kitchen to grab a quick snack before class you see a large bouquet of roses.

At first you had thought it might have been for one of you friends since you just so happened to have a pollen allergy and it was really bad with roses.

You had thought that until Kourtney had walked in. "Whose are those for?"

"I don't know, didn't check if there was a card"

Kourtney walks over curiously, she knew of your allergy so she had thought that maybe it was for Gina from her love-sick boyfriend.

Kourtney digs in the bouquet until she finds a card and she begins to read it out loud in a flat tone. "Dear Y/N, I know we haven't talked much but I hope you enjoy these flowers. Love Panther."

At first you didn't hear the name that was given and instead you were more focused with the words that used. It seemed like whoever it was just bought some flowers and stuck a card on there with a few meaningless words.

It couldn't be Riri, she was the type to hand deliver them and instead of a card she would have just spoke from her heart like she always did. Plus she knew about your allergy, she would rather have welded you a bouquet and they wouldn't be roses they'd be lilies instead.

No this was someone else.

But who else was interested in you?

You played back what Kourtney had said

Dear Y/N, I know we haven't talked much but I hope you enjoy these flowers. Love Panther.

Panther..... Panther

It hit you

Who else would call themselves panther besides THE black panther.

Of course it was shuri

Trying to get your attention in such a desperate way.

Why couldn't she just be decent and ask you out on a real date or maybe even talk to you about something other than herself.

She was such a-

How can I put this lightly?

She was just such a-

"Boring, brainless little player who constantly talks about herself. She wonders why I would never give her the time of day but then she decides to suggest some stupid club as a date!"

"Do you understand that Kourt? She wants to take me out to a club for a first date! I mean how crazy is that!?"

Kourtney sits on a stool that stood next to the kitchen island as she listened to you rant about Shuri before she decided to speak up.

"Well maybe you should just talk to her, tell her that your not comfortable." You look at her, processing her words and you realized Kourtney was right. Shuri won't stop until you just tell her how you feel about her behavior.

So that's exactly what you were going to do when you saw her.

That's what you were going to do when you had saw her, well that was until you had saw that stupid smirk and her stupid sharp jawline and stupid brown eyes that were constantly hid behind those stupid black sunglasses.

Ugh why did she have to look like that?

Why did she have to be so damn fine?

You could barely even make eye contact as she asked where you were going. "Uh I'm just walking to rehearsals."

"Do you mind if I walk you?"

"If you want then you can."

You begin to walk with Shuri trailing behind you quickly catching up.

"Soo, what are you rehearsing for?" Shuri broke the silence with her thick Wakandan accent.

"Um I'm rehearsing for this years musical, we're doing Heathers."

"Heathers? I've never heard of it."

"It's based off a movie that's about a few highschool students dying because of this girl and her psychotic boyfriend."

Shuri gave you a confused look clearly not impressed with your summary of the movie. "It's better if you just watch it."

She nodded and moves onto her next question. "So who do you play?"

Your ears perk, it seemed like Shuri actually wanted to know. Something that you felt so strongly about.

"Well I'm the leading lady, Veronica Sawyer"

"Wow leading lady huh? That's pretty impressive. How long have you been into theater?"

Truth be told Shuri was surprisingly interested in what you had to say. Riri was right, there was more than what meets the eye.

"Well I've always loved singing since I was a little girl. I'd sing in my church choir all the time. Well that was until we moved and then we kept moving state from state, theater has always kind of been the one consistent thing in my life. I gained amazing friends from it, people I call family and it really helped when my mama died."

"I was a wreck, but then my theater family reminded me that my mama wouldn't want me to sit around in my room and waste. So I didn't and now I'm living my life the best I can."

Shuri got silent, she hadn't known about your mother. It had reminded her of her family.

"Wow I'm sorry about your mother's passing, if anything I know how you feel."

"Oh no don't feel sorry, if anything I should be saying that to you. Losing your family can be hard and I get that. The best thing you can do is try and never forget them, keep them in your heart and find some healthy ways to cope because there are lots of them."

By now you and Shuri were face to face in the middle of a hallway looking in each others eyes, yours were full of empathy, sorrow and Shuri saw comfort in your eyes, in your entire being actually, especially with the the way you held her hand, running your thumb over it.

Shuri didn't know why but she wanted to just jump in your arms and cry, just let you hold her. You felt safe to her which was weird to say since Shuri had barely even talked to you.

But you were just so warm and comforting, you had this aura around you that only grew and never seemed to dim. Shuri had never noticed that before.

"Shuri are you ok?"

Shuri didn't even realize it but a single tear had began to fall from her eye, if you hadn't said anything Shuri might have just started to bawl right then and there.

Shuri didn't expect it but you reached up and wiped away her tear with your soft angel like hands. You then moved your hand to her cheek and held it as you stroked your thumb in a way to soothe Shuri's almost broken spirit and for a moment it worked.

That was until you had realized you and Shuri were right in front of the theater doors. Neither of you had noticed.

Shuri sniffed and rubbed her hands down her pants leg in a way to soothe her nerves.

"Um I should go... but it was nice talking to you Shuri."

Shuri looks up from her shaky hands that she once was fidgeting with.

"Yeah I'll see you later"

Just as she was about to walk away you grab her hand, gently enough so that if she wanted to leave she could but hard enough were you could get her attention. "Wait before you go.... just remember what I said- about finding different ways to cope."

Shuri looked confused for some reason, a reason that she didn't even know. "What makes you say that?"

"Well I just mean that, I know you came here to get a break from your life but I've seen the things you do and I can tell its not helping."

"Ok.... what things have you seen?"

You scoff softly enough were Shuri couldn't hear as you look down at your feet only to bring your head up as you speak again.

"I'm not stupid Shuri, I know about the girls you sleep with and how all you really do is party, I know that's the only reason you want to talk to me.... I mean that's why I was so hesitant to talk to you."

Shuri knew that mostly everyone knew about her reputation but she didn't care and it sure as hell didn't stop her, but there's one thing that she didn't quite understand about what you were saying.

"Ok so you wouldn't talk to me but you have no problem making out with my girlfriend?"

You grew silent, what were you supposed to say? Sorry?

I didn't mean to develop feeling for your girlfriend?

"Oh what did you think that I didn't know?"

"You act as if Riri doesn't want the same thing from you."

You look at Shuri in disbelief, Riri wasn't that type, if that's all she wanted then she would have said that. She would have just had sex with you the first time you offered it to her.

Right?

"I know that not all Riri wants"

"And how do you know that?"

"Because if that was the case then she would have been did it!"

You didn't mean to yell, it wasn't in your intention to get loud but you couldn't help it. Shuri was making it seem as if Riri didn't actually like you. Like she didn't have an ounce of feelings for you.

"What are you saying? Are you saying Riri hasn't been trying to-"

You shake your head unable to say anything else.

"All we do is just hangout and I mean we've made out a few times but that's it. Before we can ever do anything she just stops."

"I- I'm"

Shuri couldn't even process the word, she couldn't even get her own out

"She didn't tell you did she?"

Shuri was stuck, all this time she had thought it was you keep them from it. You that had no interest but all this time it was Riri

You notice Shuri silence and you speak up but not before making a deal out of letting a loud scoff fill the air.

"Wow shows how much you know."

And with that you left, turning toward the theater doors as you push them and walk through leaving Shuri by herself.

Part 3 is done!

Lowkey I don't really know how I feel about it but whatever

Anywaysss let me know how y'all feel about this chapter and remember I love, love, LOVE hearing from y'all! :)

#riri wiliams x reader #riri williams #riri x reader #riri x black fem reader #riri x you #shuri udaku #shuri fic #shuri x reader #shuri x riri #shuriri x reader #shuriri #bpwf

73 notes · View notes

heph · 3 months

Note

Hey, I remember you mentioning on your IG something about two types of popular artists and one being good at social media and the other being good at art or something like that (I can't really remember lol). But it got me thinking, any tips for how to be good at social media? Cuz I'm certainly not even after posting art for six years lol

Heya!

What I meant by that is that there are traits that allow you to grow on social media, and traits that determine what a highly skilled artist is, and those traits do not always necessarily overlap.

I've seen so many amazing artists that post artwork that blow my head off, and yet they don't have many likes. On the other hand, some artists at the same skill level who draw more popular things will get way more attention.

That is not to say that either is the correct way to create art, but there is definitely a formula to social media that is in play.

There are a lot of posts about how to grow a social media account, particularly on TikTok, YouTube and Instagram art spheres, and imo you really need to examine what you want from your art before jumping into social media mode

The stuff you create to pander to social media might not be art that you want to create at all - I'm lucky, because I am less artist more storyteller, and what I enjoy is telling jokes and silly stories to liven up people's moods :] this, of course, conveniently does well on social media. On a personal note, I have a history of being a recluse and not connecting well with people, and art is my way of trying to communicate my feelings, one way or another.

So of course, if you draw for any reason other than my own, my approach to art and it's relation to social media might be inappropriate for you.

All that being said, if u take a look at those "get big on social media" videos they always cite the same few points... And you can look into that, for sure, but this video sums up how I feel about all that.

I spent like 20 minutes drafting words after the above paragraph, but I really ended up regurgitating sentiments from the video... So really don't listen to me, listen to that video

EDIT:

I just realised I didnt actually answer the question with my anecdotal experience, so here's a list of things I did

1. Posted like 3 doodles a day on social media

I did this for 6 months on a side account on Twitter recently and got the account to 11k followers... And I did this for 3 months on Instagram a few years ago and I think got 3.5k followers. Of course, do not spam maliciously and make sure your art is still of good quality, but for those artworks I posted quickly, I did not colour, and mostly did clean sketches. This also trains you in the matter of line confidence haha. Again, this worked for me because of my set of circumstances (love for the media, want to tell stories, simple art style)

2. Focus on my favourite aspects of media

This helps with respect to burnout - kinda hard to burnout when you love what you're making! For me, it's character interactions and comics. I want to see my blorbos kiss and if I'm not the one drawing it who will?!

3. Interact with people

People eat up work that they can interact with. A choose your own story situation, one of those like/rt to strip a character 😭 those do numbers for a reason.

Additionally, if you post stuff people love, people will respond to it with comments, maybe their own headcanons, adding on to the work... I've gone into long looong Twitter thread conversations with people who added onto my ideas that I threw up onto the screen and I think it's also a nice thing to do to respond to positive comments haha... I'm not very good at this (read: bad at communication)

I think that's the key points... Hope this helps!

#people who are good at social media are good at marketing basically #theyre their own hype man who has something cool to show #and would like to show everyone that cool thing!#its not purely about art its also about charisma and trying to get people to be convinced that youre cool as well #thats why there are social media influencers #people who vlog and get popular because of the way they present themselves #me i am very much my own hype man #not really because im particularly good at art (im not) but because i have so many thoughts in my head that i want to share #and i need people to also be poisoned by these thoughts so i enthusiastically promote it #side eyes the blood soup comic i dedicated like 20 pages to #on my end it comes from the love of media and my desire to build upon the established canon #but i understand that not everyone is so intensely passionate about their own work... but yknow #you need to love your own art in order for it to succeed #just like you need to love yourself before you can grow as a person #its easy for me to say because i do have social media attention though #i remember so desperately chasing social media validation when i was 16 #so really i cant really say much regarding that haha #but do watch the video and hopefully it helps!#i wrote so many words...#heph answered

30 notes · View notes

luwritesomething · 2 years

Text

DAMIAN WAYNE HEADCANONS !!!

ah, love of my life. this man right here got me years ago into learning more about the batfam and now here i am. you can say it’s kind of his fault. anyways,,, no one asked for this but my brain did.

requests are open! hit that anon button and tell me your idea!

warnings: swearing, hadn’t been proof-read.

damian’s head is a MESS. don’t get me wrong, the guy is a little genius, but imagine the chaos of languages he has -- arab, english, chinese, i’m a hundred percent he knows russian, urdu is nanda parbat’s official language...

because of this (^^) he just sometimes shuts down and stays silent. he can’t even think.

he loves all animals but he can’t handle insects. jason found out, and damian bribed him with a collectors special edition of classical books. nobody must know his weaknesses.

he writes in cursive, i have no clues but also no doubts.

words are difficult for him, that’s why he talks the way he does -- so professionally, like he is from another age.

can stand tim (in small amounts) but no longer they will always have an intellectual rivalry -- it’s probably more from damian’s side rather than tim’s.

he still feels like he has to hide that he looks up to dick.

damian searched what fanfiction was. he’s scarred for life now.

he’s straight up bored of paparazzi. he’ll go lady gaga on their ass and stare at the ones that are hidden in a bush trying to take pictures of him in secret.

also he will go full cole sprouse on the people trying to take pictures on him while he’s walking through gotham (this means he will snap pictures of the civilians before they snap a picture of him. camera duels, that’s the name)

listens to A LOT of music. everything his siblings listen to, he does too. classical music is his favorite, however. (also enjoys jazz).

taking care of his animals and his duties as robin are his favorite activities.

doesn’t understand social media, but still uses it. he’s too stubborn to admit he’s bad handling that.

too lazy to figure out how to cook, but if he tried in the slightest, he would be an amazing cook.

damian is an incredibly fast learner. it amazes the fuck out of bruce how many new things he can learn in just one day.

he grows to be an actually very kind person, but his snarky remarks and dry humor never disappears.

likes the addams family. what a surprise.

doesn’t get horror/slasher movies. he keeps getting bored and doesn’t react to the jumpscares. jason says he is dead inside, which everyone agreed on.

they don’t know (^^) that damian is making a superhuman effort to not kick someone when the jumpscares occur because this little guy has his senses to the maximum all the time.

can’t be bothered unless someone is being ignorant or trashing about his family. he’s the only one that trashes about his family >:(

texts like a grandpa but at least he knoews what’s happening (most of the times)

like jason, damian has been kicked out of the wayne family chat numerous times.

has an elderly person soul except for when he’s fighting. then he’s a vicious little shit-

plays piano. no, i will not elaborate.

will correct your grammar in a condescending tone of voice.

“don’t patronaze me.” @ everyone.

has general knowledge about a shit ton of things. and since he doesn’t know how to properly socialize (canon) will spill those facts in order to start a conversation during galas.

has threatened the police -- 10/10 will do it again.

damian couldn’t care less about gossip but since he’s a good listener he always ends up knowing the tea about E V E R Y T H I N G.

cocky bastard. that’s it, that’s all i’m saying.

he has no idea how to handle compliments. it still makes him freeze whenever someone says he’s cute or has pretty eyes.

“no.” (damian’s answer every time someone calls him cute).

believes in soulmates and in love at first sight, not as a superficial concept but as a ‘i’m clicking and mystically attracted to this person rewardless of their looks’.

reads A LOT.

never as much as jason, and also he doesn’t just read like narrative books -- he reads those thick books about how to do things, biographys, and studies about subjects he randomly knows about.

barely sleeps, if he ever does.

sleep is for the weak™

(^^) proceeds to randomly fall asleep during patrols or family dinners.

acts like a brat but he actually isn’t -- it’s so complicated to explain, i hope someone just gets it.

at 17 he’s taller than dick and almost as tall as jason. suck it, @ everyone who mocked his height.

jon kent is his Best Friend™

(^^) damian told me himself.

he’s very handsome (canon lolz)

no but like, i mean, he will actually be one of those men you think ‘good fucking lord, he’s handsome’

damian thinks selina is cool.

has a lot of anger and frustration inside. it calms him down knowing jason also has problems like those because it makes him feel more... normal.

because normal is something damian would have liked to feel if he hadn’t been conceived to be perfect.

he would love six of crows -- would really like kaz brekker.

secretly enjoys the ya genre, will never admit it out loud.

#damian wayne #damian wayne headcanons #damian wayne headcanon #batfam #jon kent #!!!!#batfamily #damian wayne fic #robin #fifth robin #fourth robin #ask me for a part 2 #im begging

497 notes · View notes

valoisfulcanellideux · 1 year

Text

Points of interest from today's Pix stream

See behind the cut for some points of interest transcribed from Pix's Empires stream today (fWhip joins in, in chat, too). Included:

endings for the season and fan expectations

fanworks and headcanons, how Pix wanted to structure his S2 to enable fans to run with their own ideas, and how his S1 ending the way it did also enabled that

what Pix would like to do if there's an Empires S3 [speculative only; not concrete plans]

Behind the cut with you!

This led out of a conversation wherein Pix discussed having seen many fans' opinions of S2 ending 'suddenly'/'too soon' and 'unsatisfactorily' and not to their liking, and how the endings could have been better/loose ends tied up more, etc etc (we've probably all seen those opinions and posts repeatedly by now, so I'm not going to belabour them anymore).

First off, Pix very briefly mentions his season end plans:

fWhip (in chat): A lot of people seem to have taken my video as the end.. not realizing everyone will upload their own finale. I didn't do any real lore this season so having a full lore based ending felt wrong

Pix: I've got an ending planned, but it's going to be very much like my ending. And, again, I'm somebody who doesn't have any story to my stuff, really. Like… I became a ghost. Nothing's really happening with that. It's just a fact of my existence now.

fWhip (in chat): I finished building gobland to where I was happy with it, so that was a natural end for me as a creator

Pix: Yeah, like, "Guess what? I'm done building. Series over!" [pause, then mutters] I wish I was done building [laughs]

[discussion continues for a while around fan expectations]

fWhip (in chat): also I think some fans don't realize not all of our audiences love the heavy lore, and if our videos don't get views we can't really keep making videos lol

Pix: Yeah, that's the thing. There's always going to be the most activity around stuff that people really feel like they can get behind as a community. But the communities tend to isolate themselves with other people who enjoy the same stuff they do, right? So, like, folks on Tumblr or Reddit, for example, might get really behind certain creators' approach to lore.

[short discussion about browsing the Empires subreddit and seeing so many posts about Jimmy being a toy, including polls worded in such a way that they're biased from the outset. also how - when fans latch on to certain ideas like that - it can be stifling to a creator, as in 'once you've exhausted that thing but people still want it from you, where do you go from there?']

This next part was what I really loved about this stream discussion: Pix's views on fanworks:

Viewer: Tumblr will come up with lore even if there isn't any tbh

Pix: And that's what I wanted to do with this season. I really wanted to just create whatever I wanted to create, and have it be something that people could speculate about all they wanted to, and any answer would be the right answer. That's one of the things I liked about… [pause] Even though I felt bad having left Empires Season One when I did, and everyone else was very kind in pointing out, like, "You said you were going to leave then anyway, so it's not you kind of left us in the lurch, or whatever"… [pause]

One of the things about the ending of Season One not really being there was that people come up with their own theories about what happens to the Copper King after all of that. And I'm, like, "All of those are correct!" [laughs]. Whatever you think happened, happened. Because that's the fun of using your imagination for stuff like this, right? That's sort of the approach I want to encourage people taking when we do projects like this, is your interpretation is just as valid as ours. And if you want to imagine that stuff, don't always expect us to act on it.

Finally, someone in chat asks what Pix would like to do if Empires S3 takes place. [NOTE: This should not be taken as gospel and what Pix plans to do. He appeared to just be spitballing and chatting casually here, so this isn't a concrete plan, nor is it confirmation that there will be a season 3. I'm just adding this as another point of interest from the stream.]

Viewer: I know you said that you're not sure about Empires season 3 but what would you do if it did happen?

Pix: That's the thing: I really don't know, and that's part of the reason we're not doing a season 3 immediately, if at all. I don't know what ideas would work, I don't know what ideas would be compatible with other people's ideas. Like, I would love to do something that feels a bit more modern, because I don't challenge myself often enough to build in a modern style. I would love to do something that felt a little bit more cyberpunk, in… like a System Shock kind of way. But I don't know for certain if that would be at all compatible with anything else, because Empires in general skews a bit more, like, D&D fantasy, which tends to be more medieval fantasy; European medieval, specifically. And, y'know, there's a few exceptions to that, but I think a lot of the time - because Minecraft itself feels like more of a fantasy world… y'know, there's cobblestone and wood everywhere, and bookshelves, and enchantment setups, and brewing and that kind of thing. It all feels a lot more medieval fantasy than anything else. I just think it's kind of difficult to sell the idea of there being, like, a cyberpunk kind of modern setup in the middle of all these other people who are still playing, like, straight-up D&D. It feels anachronistic, and not in a good way.

[brief discussion about how 'modern empires' could also mean business empires, but that would then mean creators having to build whole cities, which are a pretty hefty undertaking]

#empires smp #esmp #empiresblr #pixlriffs

130 notes · View notes

kinopioa · 27 days

Text

This is what I think regarding ShtH routes @beevean @crusherthedoctor

I see people get mad that Last Story can't be aligned with any route path, then say it's story is automatically bad cuz of that

But I think the bigger thing missed is the theme of the game: Choice

Last Story Shadow is doing his own thing mostly (guillibility really), regardless of player choice. Some events mirror what was seen in routes (Eggman gaslighting, Black Doom mem hack, Commander having hatred to Shadow), but I think rigidly defining it to be 1:1 to routes is wrong. Last Story is the TRUE canon story, not the other way around

Already in the routes you have places where you get each Emerald rapidly change in routes themselves. The only standard one is Westopolis for the green emerald in the beginning. Everything else varies

I think partially what fuels being unable to accept Last Story doing its own thing is gameplay forcing you to get 10 endings. The stress of that makes routes seem more canon than they are, despite the game being directly advertised as "mostly fun whatifs". Same with being unable to restart mid route, which forces further feelings that routes matter more than they do

I see people try to reconstruct the game so that routes matter more, and awkwardly it removes endings and levels. The whatif factor and being able to do a 180 in a route is ruined

Similarly you have people randomly think Rouge or others have all the answers when...no? The end of Heroes was literally her not knowing if Shadow was the OG or not, and no other char is aware of the Shadow Androids. Heck, this isn't confirmed in any route; it's a Last Story bonus if you wait

Personally if I were to remake the game;

-Have a disclaimer how Routes are mostly noncanonical, with some scenes mirroring what happens in canon with some differences in time and setting

-Have different interactions in scenes and missions depending on previous route. This seems to be planned if filename and event loading code is to be taken, though scrapped to neutral reactions in final, regardless of prior path

-Similarly, have missions vary counts to prove loyalty in later levels depending on prior path. If you did a lot of bad previous routes, you need to do more good to make up for it. Inversely, the mission is easier if you already are aligned with path. Lava Shelter interestingly checks this

-Have the ability to start a new route mid path of a finished one. Instead of replaying Westopolis 3 million times

-Have Last Story unlockable with simply 3 unique endings

-Have end of Last Story encourage playing more missions and whatif scenes. Heroes does this to encourage playing other teams. Shadow already does this for weapons

-Have the Devil Doom easter egg Eggman says easier to hear. So many fans missed it

-Correct some Localization duds. Surprisingly not many, despite cheesy dialogue, but the President thanking Gerald is wrong. Also explain how Tails' plane crashed randomly in the "you know what" scene

-Story wise I guess explain how the Chaotix got to space. It'd be interesting if Rouge is the reason, she surprisingly is barely in the game. Maybe tease how she was wrongly hostile in Heroes. To follow this...

-Note side char motivations better. Newcomers get a refresher for Shadow, but other characters are too sparse at times. Doesn't need to be detailed, or even voiced. The game uses static pics for SA2 flashbacks already. Heck, it can be unlockables for messing around in routes

-Have vehicles not play like shit. Gunplay funny enough is fine, though most physical weapons are too fragile

-Buff multiplayer. 3 stages ain't enough. A coop mode added also wouldn't be too bad (Sonic was scrapped after all...). Maybe configure weapon type and hitstun/invul time with settings

The game's very flawed, but I feel people missed the core point of it being a whatif fest

13 notes · View notes

mickeys-malarkey · 1 year

Text

I can't hold my Bendy theories in anymore!!

I've only got a few people to infodump to about Bendy IRL, I'm just so excited after watching the BATDR trailer and reading all the new theories that I can barely sleep or get any work done, and now that we have an official release date they can't chicken out if my theories are correct rofl. So, here I go!

Fair Warning: There's no way to avoid it, this is gonna have so many spoilers for all the current Bendy games and books (well, except BINR. But there's also not really a story in that one) that I'm just gonna have to assume that if you're still reading past this point, you've either already played/read the entire series (obviously minus BATDR) or you don't care about spoilers!

Pt. 1/3: Expanding (Mostly) On My TIOL Thoughts

As I said in my thought summaries here and on Twitter, I hate Nathan Arch. Dude literally sets off every single alarm bell I have, I don't understand why nobody else seems freaked the heck out by him… *shudders* I'm convinced that he's the answer to theMeatly's question.

To start off, I'd like to point out that… Nathan says his notes exist to “provide context for the contemporary reader,” which sounds like he's just gonna be stating general historical facts every reader would've known when the book was originally published but might not know when it was republished and are necessary to understanding what Joey's saying. But that's not what the notes are like at all? They actually consist of very personal information that readers at the time of original publication couldn't possibly have known and definitely aren't necessary to understanding what Joey's saying; and the vast majority seem to specifically be either 1: flip-flopping between singing Joey's praises and making remarks he really shouldn't be making if he were actually trying to dispel the negative rumors around the man as he claims, or 2: confirming or denying descriptions of himself?? 🚨

It feels like he's trying to manipulate us into seeing Joey as a genius and saint whose inventions we should accept with open arms whilst simultaneously positioning the guy as a scapegoat to take all blame in case we don't, and into seeing Nathan himself as an intelligent and kind man who definitely respected and admired Joey and, of course, would never, ever mistreat him, preemptively discrediting any rumors about him being an abusive friend that might crop up. Even when Joey makes comments that in no way cast him in a bad light— Joey be like “oh Nathan loved creative people and even though he would never understand us wanted to be us” and Nathan be like “actually no I like myself fine, and also no I dislike creatives in general, they're boring and too self-indulgent. It's specifically Joey that I admired, and therefore I admired his creativity specifically by extension. Isn't it just like Joey not to see the compliment—?” Um, no?? No, Nathan, that sounds absolutely nothing like Joey; he's literally been enraptured by every statement or action that could possibly be construed as complimenting him in this book. Did you just indirectly end your relationships with every other creative you've ever met so that nobody would believe anyone who claims that you looked down upon Joey? 🚨🚨

Let me get into some of the more unique notes from Nathan.

“The first time I read this [Elves and the Shoemaker] story it meant a great deal to me. Joey, as he said in his introduction, was never one to talk about his past. He never spoke about his parents. I certainly never met them. I don't even remember how I learned his father made shoes. So to get a glimpse back at this part of his life, for an old friend, it was very special. I remember telling Joey all this after I read the manuscript back in ‘41. He just smiled.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 23

With the way this note happens right before Joey practically spells out that he trusts nobody and denies everyone even the most innocuous information out of self-preservation in the very next story, it does not feel like Nathan's sharing a heartwarming moment between friends. It feels like he's bragging about his position and accomplishments in their predator-and-prey relationship; like he's proud of himself for slowly breaking Joey down and eventually getting him to divulge info he'd been denying him. If your parents lived nearby and were perfectly lovely people, why do you think that you would neither talk about them with nor introduce them to someone who was supposedly one of your closest friends? I'll get into why I think he finally gave the info up in a bit.

In the Lottie story, if Nathan had only said that he wasn't sure the letter exchange had actually happened, I would've been like “yeah sure, we all know Joey's a liar. 🤷🏻‍♀️” But no, he specifically eases us from confirmation of Eckhart and Donaldson's existences even though he claims to have only briefly met them, to claiming Joey was such a good storyteller he could make you think you personally met someone who never existed even if he'd literally just told you that they were imaginary, to casting doubt on the very existence of a girl he was described as having been known by name to outside of the letter exchange.

“I met Joey the following year at the lab and only briefly had the chance to meet [Private Donaldson and Private Eckhart]. They were every bit the characters Joey describes them to be.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 27

“When I first read this I forgot, despite Joey saying as much, that this was fiction, and spent far too much time racking my brain over who this James [who Joey says he told Lottie he met when he came by the lab to say hi to me] was. Joey is so good with his storytelling that even when he tells you it's not real, you can forget a moment later.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 37 (emphasis added)

“I have gone through every piece of correspondence Joey ever saved as part of my work preserving his memory and documenting his life, and I must confess I was looking forward to reading Lottie's letters in person, having been moved to tears reading this part of the manuscript thirty years ago. Unfortunately, I have not been able to find them. It is possible they were lost to time, and I do deep down hope that to be true. However, even if this story is revealed to be one of Joey's excellent fictions, I think it doesn't really matter. Joey would, of course, call it another example of his illusion. I think the message in the story is meaningful regardless whether it really happened or not. And regardless if Lottie actually herself existed or not, she is a fine embodiment of the brave women who served our country in war.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 41 (emphasis added)

I absolutely do not think this is a reality check, I think Nathan's trying to erase Lottie's existence – even gaslighting anyone who knew her in real life into thinking they'd imagined her – to throw us off the “Joey's Illusion of Living ‘philosophy’ is literally just the coping mechanism of an extremely traumatized man” scent; I wonder if Lottie actually fell victim to suicide shortly after writing to Joey that she was spiraling into a deep, dark depression, and Joey made up everything that happened after that specific letter in order to cope with the loss – pretend that “my dear friend isn't dead despite being sent somewhere there was no actual fighting where I thought she'd be safe; I saved her life and she's living a Happily Ever After overseas, married to a handsome young British soldier” – rather than just the goodbye letter to wrap her story up in a neat bow… Maybe Nathan even helped him pretend she was still alive in order to endear himself to this literal kid who was destroyed with grief?

Speaking of which, does nobody find the circumstances under which Nathan and Joey met… concerning? Nathan says “we knew each other since we were teenagers,” which sounds fine until you realize they met because Joey lied about his age and joined the army while still a minor, where he was bullied and pressured into things like underage drinking by grown-@$$ legal adults, multiple of which were also of higher rank. And not only was Nathan one of those grown-@$$ legal adults of higher rank and definitely bullying him just like the others (“I swear I definitely didn't join the other guys in giving him that Real Man™ complex of his like he says—” yeah, sure, Nathan, I totally believe you /s. 🙄), but clearly his horrifying apparent hobby that I'll explain next was already established at the time, seeing as Joey saw the photo of Ivan Newsome dying in agony with his own eyeballs when Nathan introduced him to Walter Richmond… 😬🚩

I'm convinced that Walter, Arthur, and Isabel were three of Nathan's previous victims, and they mirror the relationships he has with Joey, Allison, and Susie.

Walter looking at Nathan “as if asking permission to speak” before engaging Joey in conversation (Nathan nudges us towards believing they had no prior relationship by stating that he was flattered by Joey's observation that he had a way of introducing anyone so that it felt like they were his guest even if he'd just met them… but technically neither confirms nor denies anything 👀) has creepily similar vibes to how Joey “just smiled” in response to Nathan's gushing over the info on his parents; I feel like Joey gave up the info because he had to jump through hoops in order for Nathan to give him permission to publish his book— to be able to get the thing out the door without tripping any of Nathan's “Joey's disobeying and must be punished” alarms. Also, notice how Walter mysteriously had “a lot of people who knew him, but nobody who wanted to claim the title of ‘Walter's friend…’” and how the only people Joey's apparently still in contact with in BATIM are A: one of Nathan's (confirmed) employees, B: a janitor who didn't even realize Joey would remember him so definitely doesn't have enough of a relationship with Joey for Nathan to consider him a threat, and C: a shady veterinarian (wouldn't be surprised if he works for Nathan, as well). It's a classic abuser's tactic to isolate and villainize their victim so that they have no choice but to rely on the abuser; I'll get into more reasons I think that was happening in a bit.

I find it suspicious how Arthur not only personally delivers Ivan's effects to his sister Isabel, just tells her what happened which you'd expect someone with such fresh and debilitatingly severe PTSD to be very reluctant to do, and sticks around to befriend her, but also attends her art show showcasing Walter's war photos— it feels like someone was forcing Arthur to do all of this behind-the-scenes, and maybe the firecracker scene wasn't just about Isabel punishing the rich people for their morbid fascinations, but also Nathan punishing Arthur for being difficult about the situation behind-the-scenes. Meanwhile, Joey just happens to hire this random voice actress to replace Susie who we know just happens to be working for Nathan by the time BATIM happens, the memo that she had been hired specifically marked “don't deliver to Susie” just happens to make it into Susie's possession (seeing as she paraphrases it to Henry), Allison seems to know full well that Joey can't fire her when he tries to in DCTL, and then, by TLO, something has apparently happened to where Tom's been rehired which neither he nor Joey had any choice in and he doesn't wanna talk to anyone about (I doubt it was just all the deaths in DCTL, especially considering Joey went from his furious “I never want to see you again” attitude to begging Tom to come back. We've only heard him beg once before, which I'll get into later), and Tom and Allison have bizarrely switched opinions on the situation and machine (Allison changing from “your invention is amazing, Tom! Why are you stuck on the bad parts of the situation?” in DCTL to “I don't understand why you accepted this job back” in TLO, and Tom changing from “horrible things happened because of my machine, I wish I'd never been ensnared by this place” in DCTL to “why doesn't Ally understand? You don't just abandon a miracle” in TLO)—? It seems to me like Allison was never truly Joey's employee, she was Nathan's employee the whole time (which puts Joey's refusal to attend her and Tom's wedding in a whole new light), and Joey wasn't the only one punished for his failures and attempts to override the steel tycoon's authority.

To reiterate, since I saw some people being confused about the massive change: even with the memory loss issue, Allison's opinion in BATDR is just a natural progression from when the something happened between DCTL and TLO. 😛😬

Anyways, I get the distinct impression that creating situations like these to turn people into murder puppets without anyone being the wiser he was even involved is a hobby of Nathan's.

“…I am glad that he wrote [the murder mystery story] down this one time. It helps me to remember Joey at his most charming and sharp. Later years he became too fixated on things he might have gotten wrong, there was too much guilt and worry, too much fear. It didn't feel like the same man at the end, that's for sure.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 98

You can't tell me that doesn't sound like he gets off on seeing how absolutely ruthless he can make his victims whilst still having them believe they're in the right and he's bitter as heck that one of his favorite pet projects came to his senses and was haunted by his conscience later in life— he literally just admitted he preferred a Joey who admired a murderer and thought that allowing people to die and getting murdered himself must've been worth it for Walter because now he has the immortality of being in a fascinating story instead of having lived in mediocrity over a Joey who felt guilt.

On that note, I absolutely do not believe Nathan's note on Henry's story was him trying to get the truth out about Henry being a despicable person. This is actually the chapter that first clued me in on Nathan's creepiness when I did my ADHD “skim the whole book except reading all the way through anything that looks especially interesting before properly reading” thing I do.

“Joey has always been a professional person, far more so in many ways than me. That is why this section of the book is so forgiving of the man who abandoned the studio he helped create. Joey can't help but see the good in people. That being said, as a good friend of Joey's, I know that Henry's departure was a great upheaval for him and a great personal betrayal. Joey never truly forgave Henry, and I don't think he should have felt obligated to. The fact that Joey is so gracious in this part of the book is a reflection of his incredible generosity in allowing Henry Stein to be stainless in the eyes of history. I think, had he lived longer, Joey might have in later years called it his greatest illusion.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion Of Living, pg. 155

At first I found his saltiness funny, but then I read Joey's actual descriptions and… he's very clearly trying and failing to put down an amazing person, not build up a horrible one. I wondered why Nathan would be claiming the opposite and I realized— it sounds like he's admitting to being Dead Sea Level salty that Joey got terminally ill specifically because he's certain that, if he hadn't, he would've eventually been able to fully convince Joey that Henry was the villain rather than himself and therefore Joey wouldn't have reached out to the animator towards the end of his life in BATIM. Which leads me to my next observation:

I think Joey's play, “The Angel and The Devil,” was about Henry and Nathan.

I don't care that the Shoulder Angel is played by Abby and the Shoulder Devil is played by Joey, lol; that doesn't matter when you look at the actual content. I want you to read this excerpt:

Angel: [Empathy] is a wonderful talent that also leads [humans] down dark paths. Devil: Thank goodness for dark paths, they lead all great artists to their greatest creations. Angel: Empathy is your provenance then? Devil: We share it— for you it leads men to reach out and help, build hospitals, begin charities… Angel: For you it allows men to achieve their greatness through manipulation and fear. Devil: Is it not wonderful?

Going back to the murder mystery story, Walter and Isabel's thought processes perfectly match what the Shoulder Devil in Joey's play is described as using empathy to inspire humanity to do:

Walter was inspired to let Ivan die so that his photo – his art – would have a more compelling story that tugs at the heartstrings.

Isabel was inspired to kill Walter for the crime of letting Ivan die, masterfully manipulating her confession so that it technically wasn't a confession, instilling fear of herself in everyone present with the fact that if she did do it then she was untouchable legally thanks to her money, and finally, she was fully convinced that she would also be untouchable socially— even be better off, because people would see her as a hero for delivering justice to a monster like Walter.

Going back to BATIM, Joey literally says this to our faces:

“The truth is, you were always so good at pushing, Henry… Pushing me to do the right thing. You should've pushed a little harder.” ~ Joey Drew, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 5

Does that not sound like Henry was good at using empathy to inspire kindness/etc. the way the Shoulder Angel is described as doing (Joey's actually very right that empathy is a morally neutral phenomenon that can be used for good or evil! *Spoken with hyper-empathetic autistic/low-to-no-empathy autistic solidarity*)?

The Angel and Devil also say that whichever of them the man they were assigned to doesn't choose will have to leave. This tells me that the ending of Joey's play – where it's implied the man the angel and devil were assigned to chose the angel – was read rather than acted out (with the excuse that they for some reason couldn't pick a random person to play him out of the crowd like they did for the Hatcheck Girl) in order to symbolize how Joey wanted to choose his true friend and make the toxic one leave, but he had that choice taken away from him when Henry was driven away despite his best efforts. In other words, I think both his version of the friend breakup story and Henry's version have elements of truth and deception to them.

Anybody notice that it seems like Wally and Tom seemed to have been being pitted against and told lies about each other as well as having their work sabotaged by an unknown third party?

“So here's my beef with this whole Gent thing. I went to school, yeah that's right— me! Star Student at Brickmore High. I know my potatoes! So where's this ‘Mr. Connor’ fella get off telling me what to do? These college boys. They can tell ya what's wrong but if you try to fix it on ‘em. They're outta here!” ~ Wally Franks, Boris and the Dark Survival

“Not all of us are well connected, son. Not all of us have chances. Especially to get a job as an engineer when I ain't had no proper education and training.” ~ Thomas Connor, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 252

“If there's one loose bolt around here we're gonna have a whole mess of trouble. And wouldn't you know it, that Wally guy is one loose bolt! He keeps the floors clean he says, he didn't sign on for no science project. All I know is someone needs to keep these pipes maintained. And he can't be a slacker.” ~ Thomas Connor, Boris and the Dark Survival

Wally thinks he's being looked down upon for not having gone to college like Tom (who didn't go to college) and his efforts to help out are not just unappreciated but met with unreasonable emotional response. Meanwhile, Tom thinks Wally's being selfish and lazy and leaving all the work to be done by him. Sound familiar?

“…Henry left for his own reasons, and the correspondence between us became less and less. To be honest, it almost felt like a weight off when he left. He had grown more sensitive as the studio became more successful and giving him pep talks had become exhausting for me. All the good qualities he brought, the hard work and diligence, were being undermined by a restless need for something different. Something that wasn't Bendy. I'll never understand that drive. Bendy was and is perfection.” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 176-177

“Only two weeks into this project and already it's gotten interesting. Joey is a man of ideas… And only ideas. When I agreed to start this whole thing with him I thought there would be a little more give and take. Instead I give, and he takes. I haven't seen Linda for days now. Still, someone has to make this happen. When in doubt, just keep drawing Henry. On the plus side, I've got a new character I think people are gonna love.” ~ Henry Stein, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 3

Joey thinks that Henry was being unreasonably emotional and looking down upon Bendy as not good enough (when he obviously loved the character/cartoons), and that his efforts to help were unappreciated. Meanwhile, Henry thinks Joey was being a selfish, lazy leech and leaving all the work to be done by him.

Is it really a stretch at all to wonder if Henry and Joey were similarly being pitted against and told lies about each other as well as having their work sabotaged by an unknown third party? Maybe the exact same third party?

This makes me very suspicious about who was really behind the worrying newspaper in Joey's apartment; something tells me that Joey's Shoulder Devil successfully pushed his Shoulder Angel off that right shoulder. Twice. I can see Nathan thinking “fine, if you won't give up on this stupid animator, I'll use this opportunity to remove him from the picture permanently and poetically…”

Is Joey's being so touched by the memory of Isabel “angelically” helping Arthur during his war flashbacks an “I wish my Shoulder Angel would come save me?” And is his horror at the descriptions of Shell Shock (PTSD) as basically a time loop foreshadowing that he ends up trapped in a real time loop, himself, by Nathan's sadistic design? I think it's likely, especially after reading @dreamfisher-nux's posts speculating on Wilson's identity. If he's the Gent worker who stole Shaun's tool belt in BATDS and “somebody” who stole Tom's invention in Allison's BATIM Chapter 5 letter, and that invention was the seeing tool, so Wilson's the one that's been tampering with Henry's invisible messages, and he potentially murdered Henry and Joey when Henry returned at Joey's request… How much of this and how much more might he have been doing under Nathan's influence? Is he another one of Nathan's Murder Puppets? 👀

I think all the Henry stuff also explains why Joey claims that Sammy, Jack, and Norman were hired after Mr. Animator left despite the evidence in BATIM and DCTL that Sammy and Norman knew him personally. The only two versions of events he's being allowed to hear are “Henry leaving is your fault and your feelings about the situation are unreasonable” and “Henry was an awful person, you should be glad he's gone.” Nathan would never allow him to hear “it's Nathan's fault and your feelings about the situation are valid,” so he's gotta choose between believing two very painful other options; why wouldn't he try to discredit the most painful one?

While we're adding to the list of people who Nathan seems to have made disappear Mafia Boss-style, it sure seems awfully convenient that the two main Crack-Up Comics artists’ names “appear to have been lost to time” after they wrote a comic where Bendy (Joey) was literally sweating over how Boswell (Nathan) was the richest cat in the world and could crush him like a bug if he didn't perform his job to satisfaction…

…Sounds to me like Nathan did something to shut these two people up so that word of the true nature of his and Joey's relationship wouldn't get out.

Also, interesting how the disappearances of not only a reporter-in-training and the sister of two well-known entertainers but also the only son of the richest, most influential and most dangerous man in Atlantic City didn't get Mr. Joey “Bankrupt From Impulsive Spending Who Apparently Doesn't Even Have The Power To Fire His Own Employees (and ‘Employees’) Nor The Respect Of Enough People To Not Be Giggled At And Whispered About During His Own Speech At His Own Party” Drew and all of his employees arrested or worse… In fact, from the new teaser and archive images that came out, we now know the studio survived for almost two years afterwards before filing bankruptcy and closing forever…

…at which point Joey was mysteriously missing for a while. This is pretty much pure speculation, but I wonder if it could be that Joey's need for a wheelchair stems from an injury sustained in this time? Mr. Mafia Boss decided he needed his kneecaps busted or something?? At any rate, it sounds to me like Joey had someone richer, more influential, and more dangerous than Mr. Chambers “on his side…” until he failed too many times, and needed to be punished more severely? 👀

“Again I shook my head. Didn't [Constance] understand that this was not how it worked? She hadn't lived in my world. Any company that could afford such a machine, that could hide it, that had such dark huge secrets, they had to be protected by something huge as well.” ~ Bill Chambers, Bendy: The Lost Ones, pg. 191

Then, ink machine things continued at Gent… until the year Allison and Tom got married.

Sounds to me like Gent might've been condemned in order to punish Allison and Tom either for the very fact that they got married (making them more-difficult-to-control puppets) or because they failed to get Joey to come to their wedding where Nathan could access him in-person again…

This archive entry sounds as if Joey had to go into hiding, perhaps to escape Nathan and/or people like Bill's dad who were waiting for Nathan to rescind his protection? Also, as an animation history nerd, it sounds to me like the Bendy cartoons were picked up by other studios besides Archgate in attempt to reboot them after JDS kicked the bucket (as has happened to countless cartoons whose original studios kicked the bucket in real life, e.g., the Fleischer cartoons, the Hanna-Barbera cartoons, the Veggie Tales cartoons, etc.), and it wouldn't surprise me if these “minor attempts to rekindle the magic” were Joey's feeble attempts at keeping what was left of Bendy out of Nathan's claws. Remember, Nathan didn't say in Crack-Up Comics that he “inherited” the Bendy IP from Joey's estate, he said he bought it, as further confirmed in the final archive entry.

This means Joey did not leave Bendy to Nathan in his will. In fact, it sounds like he either didn't have a will at all or it was destroyed when he died… Anyone notice that Joey's secret BATDS recording, where he asks Nathan for money, is the only time we've heard him sound audibly nervous?

Strange how, in DCTL, Joey calls Bertrum “Bertrum” when introducing him to the most uncomfortable person at his party, who respects him as his boss; it's not until the people who hold financial power over him start whispering and giggling that he introduces him as “Bertie,” as if he wasn't specifically trying to slight Bertrum as the man in question assumed, but instead was trying to assert to all the hungry cats in the room that he was also a cat, rather than a tasty lil mouse for them to devour… Nathan is worse than them? He's able to break Joey's facade of confidence that this crowd of investors could only make him reinforce? What's worse, the investors he tries to persuade like he does everyone else, convince that they should give him money because everything's great… but Nathan, who's supposedly his friend, he begs for money, saying that the one-and-only reason he's asking this is because the situation is dire (implying he has no choice). That's… worrisome.

Funny how, across DCTL, TIOL, and TLO, Joey consistently pulls or feels the urge to pull his cruel pranks on people anytime a new person seems to be hiding things from him or trying to take advantage of him. Buddy after being caught stealing art supplies? Bill after being caught lying about not having knowledge of the ink machine? Sammy when he suspected his deadpan-&-monotone-ness was an act and that he didn't respect him? Almost seems like the pranks are actually the survival mechanism of someone who's had a whole lotta really bad experiences with betrayal, having things hidden from him, getting taken advantage of, etc. rather than just the product of a twisted sense of humor, hm…?

“…inside I was feeling a little angry now. I don't do well when people are disloyal, and this was something I'd expected to be kept between me and Abby. Then I stopped and controlled myself (I have excellent control over my emotions) and realized I had never actually told her there was anything secret about this. I'd have to be more careful in the future. Believe you me, I have been since. A contract is a fine thing to have between colleagues, even finer at times between friends.” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 170-171

“[Sammy] leaned back on both elbows on the stone wall. Beneath him Fifth Avenue roared and certain death would come to anyone who toppled over the edge down onto it. The man definitely had confidence in that wall. I had a sudden urge to give him a shove. Not push him over, but just to see his reaction. This might sound strange, but I needed to see a human moment from him, I needed to see the man he was hiding from me. That's the trouble when you're interested in recreating the illusion of the world. You want to see the truth of it as much as possible.” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 188-189 (emphasis added)

Also, it's weird that, when talking about reuniting with Nathan at the Sparkling Unicorn, Joey claims not to have known Nathan very well in the army but to always have liked his personality… after having claimed to be close enough friends with him that he helped him write fake letters from a fictional character to Lottie, just a few pages earlier. Either Joey's not nearly as good a liar as he's supposed to be… or this discrepancy was created on purpose in an attempt to tell us that Joey only liked Nathan's personality back when they were in the army because he didn't actually know him as well as he thought he did. 👀

This all together…

…really makes one wonder if Joey's little intro to TIOL wasn't him humble-bragging, but genuinely explaining that the reason he took so long to write it was because A: he's been being gaslit to heck and back for decades and genuinely doesn't know what reality is as a result, and B: refusing to write this book was one of the few ways he was able to assert real control over his own life for a very long time…

“Looking back is awkward. Looking back, you can trip yourself up. I've never been a fan of it. Which is why I never had a desire to tell my story. No matter how many book deals were offered, no matter how many dinners were thrown for me. I am a man who makes up my own mind. You can't buy me. No one buys Joey Drew.” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 3

Speaking of the intro, interesting how, as much as Joey tries to claim that his surprise at Simmons remembering his “philosophy” is because Simmons isn't the brightest bulb in the factory, he still gets noticeably hung up on the fact that his words had stuck with someone; it's almost as if the vast majority of people he knew either openly viewed him as a talentless idiot or genuinely were trying to manipulate him as he was so seemingly paranoid about, and he was beyond desperate for any scrap of genuine praise anyone would give him, no…? *Stares at basically every audio log, literally every Nathan note, and every scene where Joey reacted unsubtly ecstatically to compliments and/or irate at any hint someone was looking down on him*

Anyone notice how, throughout his whole memoir, Joey sings the praises of anyone he clearly wants to be like and drags anyone who resembles what he's actually like through the mud? “Omigosh, Sammy is just so talented and powerful and automatically respected and praised by everyone! He's so awesome! 🤩” “Yuck, Detective Sinclair wears a persona to hide how useless and powerless he is and is just so desperate for validation! I hate him! 😤 Btw, this stuff is not what my philosophy is about, I'm actually changing reality here (whatever makes you feel better, Joey /hj).” I guess this leads me into the next section…

Continued in Part Two: Expanding (Mostly) On My DCTL & TLO Thoughts

217 notes · View notes

catgirl-catboy · 1 month

Note

I'm not sure how many you have answered already, but for the Fandom Based Ask Game 🎀💕📞🤍

If you think I have only one of these per fandom, you are wrong!

🎀 a ship others like but you don’t?

DR- Naegami. They're too aspec for me to vibe with it, I'm sorry.

AA- Wrightworth, because I only like them when they're toxic af and the fanon removed anything that made them intersting to me. Also Trupearl.

HS- Erisol and Fefsol. If you're not going to acknowedge the toxic dynamics at play, what is even the POINT?

OP- Marcoace. That age gap is a solid yuck from me. You do you though.

Madoka- Kyoko and Mami. Boring! Only holy quintet ship I'm not all over.

💕a ship you’d defend with your life?

DR- Gonta wasn't tricked and Ougoku isn't as toxic as you think it is! If you have issues with Ougoku, you should also have issues with a bunch of other ships most people have no problem with!!! Stop infantilzing Gonta!

AA- Gumworth. Age gap? Boss/employee? Its not like GUMSHOES CANON LOVE INTEREST ALSO HAS THE SAME PROBLEMS!!

HS- Dirkjake. Stop demonizing Dirk here and start demonizing Jake.(only half kidding.) He has gotten away with it for too damn long.

OP- Zonami. They are not mlm wlw solidarity, they are dating and part of the polycule! (also sex repulsed Ace Nami >:) )

Madoka- Kyosuke x Hitomi. More of a Kyosuke apologist kind of deal, but I'm tired of people bashing either of them!!! Kyosuke is a teenaged boy coping with a career ending disability. He doesn't owe Sayaka anything. While in violation of the bro code, Hitomi had no idea about Sayaka's problems, and is entitled to ask out who she wants. (Also, her joke about Sayaka's sexuality makes me wonder if she really knew the depth of Sayaka's feelings.)

📞 a character others dislike but you don’t?

DR- Monaca Towa. The writing did her so dirty, since there's a crapton of textual evidence she suffered the same treatment as the other Warriors. Everyone talks about how she faked a disability, but not how badly she got injured where her family would buy that they paralyzed her, and never got it checked out by an actual doctor. Also she's related to Haji.

AA- Wendy Oldbag. She's funny as hell and I love her.

HS- Equius. Honestly, I side with him in the act 5 meowrails conflict. His concerns that Nepeta is hanging out with the wrong crowd is 100% correct. Is he a bit controlling about discussing it? Yes. But he's 13 and I promise you I'd be worse in this situation.

OP- Don Kreig. How can people say he's a bad villian, when he has one of my favorite fights in the entire East Blue? He's lowkey way more entertaining than Kuro, OPLA should have cut that one instead.

Madoka- Kyubey. Evil bastard man. give me more info on his species, please!!!

🤍 a fandom you’ve only recently discovered?

It takes time for me to get into a fandom, but my most recent fandom is Madoka Magica. If you're curious to what I might join next, I'm currently watching 100 girlfriends, but not really vibing w it.

#fandom post #ask tag

9 notes · View notes

mystic-writings · 16 days

Text

emergency contact | jack hodgins

pairing — jack hodgins x fem!booth!reader

summary — hodgins hasn’t heard from you in over six months, after you broke up with him and disappeared. until he gets an alarming phone call in the middle of the night

warnings — angst, canon-typical violence, mentions of death

word count — 2,528

notes — a few things: i wrote this back in january, and it was rushed and poorly done but im being self-indulgent for this one | also im not tagging anyone bc i wanna see how far this will get on its own (except for my beloved @shmaptainwrites who indulged me ily mimi)

masterlist | navigation

2:47am

Despite his many years working for the Jeffersonian, Hodgins had yet to get used to his phone ringing at odd hours. With a groan and a stretch, his palm landed where his phone lay on the nightstand table. Without checking the caller ID, he picked up the phone and slurred out a tired greeting to the caller on the other line.

“Hello, Dr. Hodgins, I’m Marie, calling from the George Washington University Hospital.” Why was a hospital calling him so late at night? “You’re listed as the emergency contact for Y/n Booth, correct?”

Your name sent a shock through Jack’s body. “I— I guess so, yeah. Why? Is she okay?”

“Your fiancée was shot on duty, sir. She’s in surgery right now. We suggest you be with her when she wakes up.”

Without a second thought, Jack hung up the phone and flung out of bed. He didn’t care how things ended between the two of you, good or bad, but he knew one thing for certain: he needed to make sure you were okay. After scrambling for a decent set of clothing and his car keys, Jack rushed out of the house and down the near-empty streets to the hospital you were taken to.

Even though his mind was running at a mile a minute, Jack managed to recall what the nurse had told him. Shot on duty. You took a sabbatical seven months ago, were you back in town? Surely Booth must’ve known, he was your brother and co-worker, he had to have. Did he spare telling Jack to avoid the inevitable turmoil? Obviously you’d been back long enough to take a case, so it wasn’t like you had decided to come back out of the blue.

By the time he found parking, it was half past 3 in the morning, and Jack’s heart refused to stop beating out of his chest, his palms sweating rivers as he clenched and unclenched them. Despite all of this, though, he approached the front desk with a cracking resolve, trying his best to be put together for the sake of not distressing the night staff and lingering patient family members.

“Could you tell me where Y/n Booth is?”

The nurse behind the counter glanced up at him. “Connection to the patient?”

“I’m her-” he stumbled on the words. “Her, uh, fiancé. Emergency contact.”

She typed a few things into the computer when a voice from behind caught Jack’s attention.

“Hodgins.” Booth called, approaching with a weary face and a cup of likely burnt coffee.

Jack nearly sprinted over to the man, blue eyes frantically searching for answers in his features. “What’s up, man? I mean, what the hell happened?”

Booth took Hodgins by the arm and led him down a hallway, over to the elevators. “We were going after a perp. I told her not to go in first, that I’d handle the hard part. She didn’t listen, the bastard got her from behind, shot out one of her kidneys. Been in surgery for almost,” he checked his watch, “three hours now.”

Jack deflated just as the elevator doors dinged open. The pair stepped inside, the space empty apart from themselves. “I just— I don’t get it. Yesterday, she was somewhere even I didn’t know, taking some damn sabbatical. Yesterday, I was still pissed at her. Now? She’s in surgery because she was on a case. Because some asshole shot her. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do with that, Booth?”

Unable to provide any kind of emotional support or response, Booth remained quiet as his friend tried his best not to break down in the elevator.

When the doors opened, Jack attempted to regain his composure as best as he could while Booth led him down the hall. There was a separate waiting room here, for family members who had someone in surgery. He sat opposite Booth, next to a sleeping little girl and her obviously exhausted mother.

He had no bearing of the passage of time, and felt as though there was no energy left within him to check the watch on his wrist. All he did was sit with his hands on his knees, head tilted to the sky, one leg bouncing like an infinite rubber ball. At some point, a doctor came out to notify the mother of her husband’s successful surgery — his tumor was gone, he’d told her, and there was little chance of it coming back.

It wasn’t until the sun started to peek in through the waiting room windows that a surgeon called out your name. Booth had been asleep in the chair across from Jack, but he was wide awake. The pair jumped up and approached the doctor, throwing questions at him rapidly.

“Y/n is okay. Surgery went well, though we’ll have to keep her here for longer than expected.”

“Why? What happened?” Booth asked.

The doctor sighed. “Due to the location of the entry wound, the bullet caused too much damage to her right kidney. For now, she’ll only be functioning with one until we can find a donor match. She’ll be on dialysis weekly and some medication to assist the working kidney, but otherwise, she’ll be just fine in a week or so. The bullet did puncture the liver and small intestine, but the speed of the bullet slowed enough to only cause minor damage, nothing we couldn’t fix up.” He told them, and a wave of relief crashed over the pair. “She’s being brought up to her room now, if you’d like to go wait with her.”

Jack only nodded, Booth trailing him as the doctor led them up one more floor, where you were being transferred to the ICU. It was painful, seeing you after so long, only for you to be hooked up to so many machines, laying nearly helpless in a bed. He pulled a chair up to your right side, reaching for your limp hand to hold, hoping you could feel him.

Hoping you knew he was there. That you knew he always would be.

Booth leaned against the door frame, watching everything with anguish. After you left for California, you kept in constant contact with your older brother. But even in those months, you never explained why you broke off the engagement so suddenly. Why you took a surprise sabbatical, why you went to California specifically. Why you became so closed off, so cold to everyone, even to Parker.

After a while, Booth left Jack alone to go pick up Parker from his mother’s house. He promised to be back later, your nephew in tow, and pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehead before he left.

Jack, swimming in an ocean’s worth of thought, barely noticed the sun coming over the horizon in the window opposite him. All he could do was process the emotions flowing through him. Anger, that you left him so suddenly and without explanation. Despair, that you’d come back so long ago and didn’t come to see him, to work things out. Worry, that despite your life-saving surgery, you wouldn’t get a new kidney, or that you’d never be the same again. Anger again, but at the bastard who shot you. Triumph, that he was rotting in a cell right now.

Jack’s only comfort in the sterile, whitewashed room was the steady beeping emanating from the heart monitor, a small assurance that you were okay. His hand remained clasped over yours for hours, thumb stroking the smooth skin on the back of your hand. Partly as a comfort to himself that you were still there, but mostly, he believed, a comfort to you. He hoped you could feel it; that you could feel his presence. He hoped his presence comforted you.

By the time you woke up, all the worry had faded from Jack’s body and exhaustion had taken its place. He was asleep, head supported by his arm on the side of the chair, when he heard the sheets rustle in the bed.

Somehow, in all your years of work, this was the first time you ended up in the hospital due to a job-related injury. It wasn’t the first time you woke up dazed after a surgery with little memory of how you got there, though.

The sheets, despite being thin, weighed down your legs and torso, providing warmth and comfort. You could feel the leads for the heart monitor stuck to your chest, irritating your skin in the slightest bit. There was a cannula feeding oxygen into your system, though it rubbed the skin on the back of your ears uncomfortably. The main thing, though, was that your torso hurt.

Despite that, you managed to notice something weighing down your right hand. It was warm, warmer than the blankets. And heavier. Garnering the courage to open your eyes, you blinked to adjust to the sunlight and fluorescent lights, trying to shift yourself upward, wincing when it pulled on your wound. Instead, you glanced over at your hand, only to find another on top of it. Following the arm connected to it, your heart stuttered and cracked when you found a sleeping Hodgins sitting next to your bed. Emotion swelled within your chest and tear ducts just at the sight of him, sleeping so peacefully next to you, his hand over yours in a firm grasp, as if that was the only thing that assured him that you were really here.

Slowly, quietly, you tried to pull your hand out from under Jack’s, only for the movement to wake him up. He stretched with a deep inhale, blinking rapidly as he took in his surroundings. It wasn’t until he noticed you were awake that he seemed to come to his senses.

“Hey,” he nearly whispered. “How’re you feeling?”

You bit back a scoff. “Terrible. First job back and of course I had to get myself shot.”

Jack fought a smile, scooting forward to raise the bed up for you to sit properly. “They said they got all the fragments of the bullet during surgery. You’re down a kidney for now, though.”

You only nodded, allowing yourself some time to gather your thoughts. “Why are you here, Hodgins?”

“Apparently, I’m still your emergency contact.” He told you, sitting back down and resting his elbows on his knees. “And apparently, I still care about you enough to show up.”

“Don’t put that on me.” You whispered, chest restricting as tears fought their way back to your waterline. “You can’t say that to me. Not after what I did to you. You should hate me. I mean, really hate me. Like, praying for my downfall, kind of hate. You shouldn’t still care about me.”

“Well, apparently I do. I thought I hated you, for a long time. But I guess I don’t.” Jack sighed, taking your hand. You wanted to protest, to pull away, but you let him. “I guess this was a wakeup call for me. Literally. They called me at 3 in the morning to tell me you were in surgery.”

You laughed, a wet sound underlined with sadness. “I’m sorry, Jack. Really, I am. I just…”

“What, don’t love me? It’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it.”

Even when he should hate you, Jack still understood, and even worse, he still loved you. He was, somehow, the world’s most understanding man. God, you love him.

“No, no I don’t hate you. Actually, it’s the opposite. I just wish things could’ve gone differently.”

Now Jack was just confused. “What d’you mean? You broke up with me for a reason, right? You told me you didn’t love me anymore.”

“It’s too complicated, Jack. I want to explain it all to you, really, but it’s not safe. I don’t know if or when it will be, and I won’t blame you if you want to find someone else, or if you already have. You deserve to be happy, Jack. You should move on from me.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” Jack said, emphasizing each word and squeezing your hand. “I just want you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were it for me, Y/n. Even with your brother breathing down my neck to not even think about pursuing our relationship. It was terrifying, but I ignored it. Because you were too important to have in my life. I couldn’t risk passing you up. I just don’t understand why you ended things so suddenly.”

The tears that you had been attempting to keep at bay for this entire conversation now flowed freely down your cheeks, the emotions you’d kept close to your chest for nearly a year now breaking free. Jack, like the gentleman he was, gently tilted your head toward him, reaching up and using the pads of his thumbs to brush them from your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, daring to look him in the eye.

“Don’t be.” He whispered.

“I have to be. I hurt you. I ruined everything. And it wasn’t even worth it. It didn’t change anything.”

Despite his confusion, Jack said nothing. He simply stood to his full height and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his chest — minding your wounds and stroking your hair. “It’s okay. You’re home now. We can fix this.”

“No we can’t.” You shook your head, looking up at him. “Jack, there’s nothing left to fix. Because if we fix it, you’ll die.”

After what felt like an eternity of swirling, spiraling thoughts, Jack found his voice. “What?”

“That’s why I left.” You said. “I was ordered to. I was working on a case, some underground organized crime syndicate. I found out some stuff I shouldn’t have. My hands were tied, I had no choice.” Choking back a sob, you wiped the tears from your face and took a breath. “It was either break up with you, call off the wedding, and leave, or everyone I loved would die. They were gonna kill you, kill Seeley and Parker, and drain your accounts. There was nothing I could do.”

Jack pulled you in tighter, his whole worldview shifting and turning on an axis. He couldn’t speak — hell, he could barely even think right now. Jack had spent months grieving your relationship, questioning why you broke things off, harboring a ruthless anger at what his life had become, and all of it faded to dust in an instant.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, pulling Jack back to the present. “I work with these people, Jack. They could ruin me in an instant.”

“We’ll fix this, I promise.” Jack declared, and despite the fear that had overridden your senses for the past few months, you couldn’t help but believe him.

You only nodded, curling further into him as best as you could with your incisions. Fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie, you listened to the beat of his heart beneath you and took a deep breath.

Soon enough, you were drifting off to sleep with the firm belief that soon enough, with the help of your family, somehow, everything would be okay.

if you want more jack fics, please feel free to comment and let me know!! writing for smaller characters is always a gamble but if people read this i’d be more than happy to do so!

#jack hodgins #jack hodgins x reader #jack hodgins x y/n #jack hodgins x you #jack hodgins angst #bones fanfiction

16 notes · View notes

xxavengingangelxx · 8 months

Text

Long Way From Home 4/?

Notes: I have finished writing this. Kinda. So it's going to be a series most likely. I need to see MW3 in November to make it as correct and canon as possible. So it's kind of a cliffhanger but it should continue once I play MW3. Time runs a little slower in this universe but should still be relatively canon. I still don't know how many parts are left but I have 50 pages of this. Expect more parts until I post all 50 pages :)

Also, if you wanna cry, go listen to Paralyzed by NF. :'( It helped me write the end(?) of the first part of these series.

Also, this quote applies to OC/Val/Reader and will be THE quote to summarize this fic: "There's a story behind every person. There's a reason why they're the way they are. They aren't just like that because they want to be. Something in the past created them, and sometimes it's impossible to fix."-Hanny Quinn

Ya'll know the drill. I assume this isn't ya'll's first rodeo when it comes to reading this but alas, because it's a dark fic, I will post triggers again. MDNI, 18+ TRIGGERS: Implied/attempted suicide, self-harm, torture, brainwashing, physical abuse, mind fuckery, Stockholm syndrome-related mental gymnastics, trauma bonding, mentions of foster care, threatened/implied/referenced rape, EXTREMELY dubious consent. If I miss, any let me know, please! DARK FIC

“I need you to do something for me,” Graves had you sitting in a large conference room. You wringed your hands in your lap nervously. The room was cold and so sterile. It was just you and Graves and you felt so small.

You’d thrown on a hooded sweatshirt because it seemed like you were always cold here. You’d apparently slept for 14 hours straight but you still felt tired. Considering they’d kept you awake for days on end at times, that wasn’t surprising.

“What’s that say?” he slid a manila folder your way.

You hesitated in opening it because what if it was code from 141? You couldn’t betray them. But at the same time you felt abandoned, forgotten. Whatever happened to never leaving a soldier behind?

But open it you did. They were newspaper clippings. All about El Sin Nombre. And about the gunshots that had been heard the night you were taken. And about Hassan. They were in Spanish.

“The newspapers?”

Graves nodded.

“Do you have something I can write with and on?”

You spent hours translating all the clippings into English, writing them into a small notebook. Hours turned into days and you translated newspapers, articles, military documents. They let you sleep at regular intervals. You had water, you had food. Hell you’d fallen asleep with you head on that cold conference table a few times now and they hadn’t bothered you.

Graves would come in periodically to get what was already translated and take it somewhere, you had no idea where.

One time he came in and sat right beside you. You instantly got nervous…and scared. You glanced up at him, dark gaze meeting his electric blue one.

“What?” you whispered.

“It’s not so bad, is it?”

You shook your head, not understanding what he was getting at.

“What do…what do you mean?” your voice trembled and you hated it.

“Workin’ for me,” he stated simply.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Can’t promise I’ll answer but shoot,”

“Did I break?” you asked, wanting to know if you’d given in amongst all that pain and torture and given him something useful.

“I can’t answer that,”

What you guessed were your days were spent translating. Your nights were spent on your knees, on your back, or with Graves’s face in between your legs, his stubble rubbing roughly amongst the inside of your thighs, drawing out unholy noises from you all while holding your hips down so you couldn’t escape him.

You push the thought that he’s borderline raping you away from your mind because your mind and your sanity just can’t fucking handle that. Yes you’d admitted to yourself that this wasn’t entirely consensual. He was your captor and you were his hostage for fuck’s sake. You had no idea what would happen if you refused him but you were scared to. Still, you convinced yourself this wasn’t rape. Your mind would finish breaking down if you did. You’d been through enough.

One day he randomly told you that you didn’t remember certain things because they’d been drugging you. But he assured you they weren’t doing that anymore, now that you were just so cooperative. Your homing beacon had been left behind in Las Almas. 141 had probably come across it and only that when they thought your homing beacon would lead to you. They’d probably found your radio ripped to pieces somewhere, too.

Graves assured you there was no way 141 was going to find you. You didn’t know how to feel about that. You’d been feeling abandoned. You’d been wondering why they hadn’t come for you. Surely 141 would have found you if they tried hard enough, right?

At the same time Graves told you that you probably didn’t want them to find you. “You’ve been working with me for almost a week now. They don’t want you back.”

You told yourself he was playing mind games, that he was slowly peeling away your identity so he could rebuild a new one. 141 would understand, right? They’d understand when you came back to them with broken ribs in several stages of healing, bruises that were blue and purple and yellow, a nose that had been broken multiple times, and possibly a hairline skull fracture all inflicted over you captivity. Right? They’d understand that you only did what you had to when they saw the numerous scars all over your body, right? One of them from a suicide attempt.

“You would’ve died on the streets of Las Almas without us,” Graves mentioned one night. “No telling what would’ve happened to you,” he continued. “I know how you grew up.” Those cold blue eyes focused on you in the low lighting of his bedroom. “Foster care. In and out of homes, being bounced around.”

You didn’t know you were crying until you felt tears falling down your sweaty face.

“You don’t have to keep that shit up anymore,” he said, brushing the tears from your face. “They’re not gonna take you back. They see you as a traitor. Stay here. We’ll take care of you.” He paused before adding, “We’d tear the world up lookin’ for ya if you went missing. Can’t same the same for 141.”

So you stayed. And not once did you think about leaving. Besides, even you attempted escape, Graves would find you and rip you apart all over again. It wasn’t worth it.

141 didn’t want you back, right? Your worst fear was being bounced around, being homeless, not wanted.

You got a watch one random day. A Samsung. Of course the location features had been disabled. But you knew the date.

Shadow Company had been protecting you for one month now.

You were learning the black site, at least the layout. There were still areas you weren’t allowed to go. You tensed when you passed a Shadow. They looked at you different now, though.

You heard Graves’s voice coming from a conference room.

“She’s ours now. So you protect her and you look out for her. Think of her as your little sister.”

You woke up to Graves shaking you.

“Get dressed. We gotta move.”

“What’s going on?” you asked sleepily.

“We’re under attack,”

You were in oversized fatigues, rolling up the sleeves and pant legs at least half a dozen times over so they would somewhat fit you. You felt like you were overheating as Graves tightened a thin Kevlar vest under your black uniform shirt before strapping it on. Tight. He pulled the zipper up on the shirt and then placed something at your feet. It was a heavier vest, similar to the one you’d had with 141.

But it was a Shadow Company vest. Your mind tried to reason that they weren’t giving back your old vest because it associated you with 141. They wanted to erase that identity and build a new one, remember? All the vests you’d seen on the other men as well as Graves had the Shadow Company emblem. The name tag?

P-80. It stood for Phantom-80. The name looked new and an increasingly fading part of your mind whispered that they’d given you the name Phantom because it mocked 141’s Ghost. You ignored it. What were the chances of that?

“Why do I need two?” you asked as Graves fastened the Velcro on the larger vest.

“Trust me,” was all he said.

He gave you a sidearm.

Shadows were engaged in gunfire. It was night. It was cold. Wasn’t it autumn? You’d forgotten how loud gunfire was. You were used to only hearing your own screams and other sounds that weren’t gunfire.

You had gotten so used to being indoors, to being in relative silence for the last month and a half now. So the gunfire was deafening, disorienting. Graves demanded you stay low and stay close to the Shadow he paired you with. Graves then disappeared.

Time seemed to drag on. You stayed low while you were both fired at and the Shadow returned fire.

Then the world went black for a few second and you found yourself in dirt. The breath had been knocked out of you and you felt a familiar sensation…you been shot but your vests had stopped it. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. You gasped for breath.

The Shadow with you dragged you somewhere by grabbing your vest. He pulled you out of harm’s way. Then more bangs, closer this time, and you were dropped to the dirt. The Shadow dragging you to safety had been shot. You crawled over to him, the momentary stop in the gunfire allowing you to do so. The bullet had slipped in just under the rim of his helmet and entered his brain on the left side of his face, just above his left eyebrow.

“Oh, my God!” you shrieked. You shook him but he just stared at the sky with lifeless grey eyes. “Hey—” you shook him but it was no use. He was dead, and he probably never even knew what killed him. So you slipped his rifle off of him and ran for cover.

You found yourself in another dilapidated building as you tried to catch your breath. You began hearing familiar voices. 141?

No, no, no, no, no…you’d been separated from them for so long that you would honestly feel like an enemy combatant in their hands. So you hid. You ran to the second floor of the building, stepping over gaps in the floor. You curled into a corner, rifle pointed at the doorway. You then cursed yourself because fuck going up to the second floor effectively trapped you. But maybe the soldiers below were too engaged in killing each other to even bother going up to a second floor if no one was firing from it.

You covered your ears when the gunfire got louder. It was getting closer and you had no fucking idea who was shooting. You really were a broken soul because you never used to cover your ears at the sound of gunfire. Things then became eerily quiet. Gun smoke hung heavily in the air, almost blocking out the thunderstorm clouds gathering.

You jumped when you heard thunder and you had to convince yourself if was thunder and not gunfire.

You stayed there for minutes, hours, who knows how long as sporadic gunfire filled your ears. You jumped with each shot, covering your ears. You were a shell of your former self. That much you knew.

Now that you were still your ribs ached. At least the vests had stopped the bullet.

Rain started and while you normally loved stormy nights, you cursed it now because it made it hard for you to see your environment and hear what was going on around you. Staying on alert so long without anyone to help you keep watch was exhausting.

You heard a creak. You opened your eyes, instantly awake. The gunfire had stopped. Where the hell were you and where was Shadow Company? Was Graves okay?

Downstairs you heard two gunshots and what sounded like a heavy body hitting the floor.

You raised the rifle, almost certain you were hearing footsteps. Someone was coming up those stairs. And whoever it was sounded large and heavy.

“Graves?” you called out.

No answer.

“Graves please tell me that’s you,” you added.

Whoever was there was now on the second floor. You were sure if you heard more footsteps coming up those stairs as you were focused on trying to pinpoint how close whoever was on the second floor was in reference to you.

You were sure that the person on the second floor would be at your doorway soon. You held your breath.

The footsteps stopped but no one appeared in the doorway.

You wondered if you were losing it. What if you were half asleep and dreaming?

“Graves, c’mon, man,” you whispered.

One more soft noise and the doorway was almost entirely blocked by a dark, tall figure.

Not Graves.

Not a Shadow.

König.

You didn’t know what to think. But you didn’t lower the rifle either. What was he doing here? Was 141 here?

“Don’t come any closer,” you warned.

“Val,” König’s voice seemed confused. “It’s me. It’s us.”

You kept the rifle raised but fuck because you couldn’t shoot.

“Please don’t come closer,” you begged.

“He can’t hurt you anymore, ja?”

So you faked it. You pulled the rifle’s strap over your head and set it down next to you.

“Okay,” König replied calmly. He got closer. He had long since dropped his rifle, leaving it to hang off his shoulder.

As soon as he got within arm’s length you ran past him. He definitely wasn’t expecting it but he still tried to grab you. You being small, you found it easy to escape his grasp, especially because he had not been expecting you to run. You knelt below his reach and ran.

You sprinted down the stairs, praying to God you’d run into Graves.

You were halfway down the stairs when you ran into Soap. König must have said something over the radio because Soap was ready for you.

Soap grabbed you, led you down the remaining stairs and easily put you on the ground on the first floor face down. Soap then got on top of you, straddling you from behind in an attempt to gain control and calm you.

You heard him say something but it didn’t register.

Mindlessly, you reached for your sidearm, getting desperate. Graves had told you they’d kill you if they found you and while you weren’t willing or able to shoot before now the idea was starting to look like it might be your only option to save your life.

“No, Val,” Soap said calmly. He pried the gun from your hand effortlessly and tossed it aside.

You reached for a knife on your vest.

And the same thing happened. He disarmed you without really putting any effort into it.

Boots stepped into your line of vision and you looked up. Ghost. He handed Soap something.

“Don’t kill me,” you begged.

“Never,” Soap replied. “But you’re unpredictable right now, lass, okay?” Zipties enclosed your wrists and pulled tight.

You snapped back to reality, gasping awake. You were on a bed. You’d fallen asleep apparently. So you had been dreaming.

“What’d you dream about?”

You recognized that voice. Graves.

“That they took me,” you replied. You sat up. You were at another black site. “How did we get out?”

Graves moved to sit next to you. He still had that battlefield smell of gunpowder and sweat. “You don’t remember getting out?”

You shook your head. You were sure you were losing your mind.

“Bad dream, then?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “A nightmare. I was scared they’d kill me.”

“They will if they catch you,”

You ran your hand through your hair, pushing it out of your face. Your bangs still fell over your eyes and forehead.

“141 shot you,” Graves added.

“Were they aiming at me?”

“Who’s to say they weren’t?”

“Where am I?” you asked. Graves was sitting next to you, still geared up.

Graves scoffed. “Safe.”

“You okay?” You ask him. “I was scared you’d get hurt.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” Graves then added, “It pissed me off they hurt you.”

“What’s next?” you asked.

“Staying in the shadows,” he responded simply.

You didn’t know why that made you tear up but it did. You sniffled. Wait…did it mean you were going to spend the rest of your life running with Shadows and looking over your shoulder?

“C’mere,” he muttered.

So you sat up and he pulled you into his arms. And you let him. He pulled the Velcro off your heavier vest and lowered to the floor and off the bed where you both sat. While you could barely hear his heartbeat through that big vest of his, you heard enough. His scent, his heartbeat, his body heat lulled you into a dozing state. You felt him place a hand on the back of our neck, brushing your hair softly. He placed his chin on top of your head.

And that was one of the first times that his presence settled you and calmed you.

You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep but you were scared of having another bad dream. You needed to feel sure this was your reality, that you were really there.

So you shook off Graves’s hands and grasped his vest. You crawled into his lap, straddling him before kissing him.

By kissing him you could almost feel the tension he was under. It was almost like you were starting to be able to read him just by looking at him. He needed stress relief and you needed to feel him to remind yourself that you were still there. With Graves. You had no idea what 141 would do to you if they caught you but you didn’t want to find out. You felt him moan underneath you when you ground yourself against him.

Apparently that was all the invitation he needed. He easily picked you up and tossed you onto the bed. He climbed over you and straddled you, his gloved hands pulling down the zipper on your oversized shirt before tossing it aside.

The sound of Velcro ripping only made you hotter. What was it about vest Velcro ripping that turned you on? He easily pulled the lighter vest off of you and placed it next to the bed. Your shirt underneath the vest was pulled from you followed by your bra.

“I’m busy, darlin’,” you heard Graves growl. He leaned down to kiss you before then unbuckling your belt. So you kicked off your boots, hearing them fall to the floor heavily. You heard your uniform pants hit the floor, the sidearm attached to them causing a metallic clank.

“I don’t care,” you whined.

You were completely naked beneath him yet he was still fully geared. You found that hot.

He flipped you around, roughly putting you on your chest and stomach. You heard him unbuckling his belt and you pushed back against him. “So needy,” he gasped.

“Show me who I belong to,” the words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. Who the fuck were you turning into?

Graves then placed a rough, gloved hand at the back of your neck, pushing you into the mattress and used the other to wrap a hand around your waist, pulling you into an arched position. It was like he could read you as well. You wanted it rough and he knew.

“Don’t move,” he demanded.

So you didn’t. Your breath came out in short huffs, blowing your hair from your face before having it fall across your eyes again.

Graves placed two bruising hands on either side of your hips.

He didn’t go slow, didn’t give you time to adjust to him like he had all the previous times before. He pushed inside of you so roughly that he bottomed out inside of you and hit your cervix.

A scream was ripped from your lips. It was pain and pleasure and pressure and just feeling owned, feeling wanted. It reminded you that you hadn’t been taken away from him, that you were still there, with Graves.

“Quiet,” he snapped.

Graves grasped your hair, pushing you further into the bed in an attempt to muffle your sounds.

A ragged moan left your mouth when you felt him move inside you.

“Fuuuuck, Graves,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Slut, you’re getting off on this,” he stated between gasps.

You wanted to snap back, “So are you,” and you started but his relentless thrusts cut you off. He’d never been this rough with you ever but fuck you liked it.

You were cockdrunk and lost in the pain and pleasure.

Graves removed one of his hands from your hips and reached between your legs, roughly rubbing your clit all while carrying out deep, penetrating thrusts and hitting that spot deep inside you. The combination of the sensations, of feeling a slight hint of his nails between your legs finally pushed you over the edge. You surrendered yourself, your soul, your body, to him just as you’d done every time before. You screamed his name, although not audibly, more into the covers of the bed.

Graves followed shortly after, his thrusts faltering almost and becoming sloppy as he gave into his feral, untamed, animalistic desires.

He pulled out of you and let go of you. So you collapsed onto the bed, gasping as you tried to catch your breath. You heard him rebuckle his pants and he placed a shaky hand on your back, steadying himself before he moved and sat next to you on the bed.

You curled up next to him, feeling your combined fluids start to spill onto your inner thighs. “Where’d that come from?”

“It’s been a long time comin’, sweetheart,” he used his hand to brush hair from your sweaty face. “Hey,” he caught your attention before saying, “I need your dog tags.”

You frowned. But you didn’t care. You’d been conditioned to do what he said without questioning it. “Have ‘em,” you handed them over.

He took them and pocketed them. You were curious but knew better than to question him.

“I’m tired but I’m scared to sleep,” you admitted.

“Go to sleep,” he said. You felt him lie down next to you. With all that gear it couldn’t be comfortable. He wrapped an arm around you.

“Hey, what’s up with Phantom-80?” you mumbled.

“Your callsign,” Graves responded. “You’re ours now. You’re mine now.”

And weirdly enough that was all it took to lull you into sleep.

That night you had your worst dream yet.

141 had found you. But they were…different. They wanted to know where Graves was. You knew but you weren’t willing to give them that information.

But even when they were making you scream from the pain they were inflicting on you, something deep down was telling you this wasn’t them. But then again what if this was how they were going to treat you from now on?

Notes: Feel free to let me know what you thought ;) You'll keep falling down the rabbit hole of Stockholm Syndrome with each post.

#phillip graves #cod mw2 #cod mwii #phillip graves x reader #john soap mactavish #ghost cod #graves x reader #mw2 141 #konig mw2

36 notes · View notes