#he's an abuser - he fucked with her mental health and played with her feelings
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Just thinking about Yandere Todoroki clan and reader's random moments.
Reader coming home after a particularly bad day, but poor girl cant even cry or complain without everyone immediately overreacting and pulling you out of school/college or even keeping you from going out at all. So now, reader has to either cry in self pity before she enters her home, wipe her tears and fix herself just enough to show that she hadnt just bawled her eyes out moments ago. That, or do the more risky thing and go home, go to your room and cry under the covers, but then theres always the chance of Rei or the others walking in on you any moment.
Also thinking about baby/toddler reader being sick, just a common cold or flu, nothing major. But with reader whining and being so young, the family's infantalisation goes through the roof and theyd treat you as if you were immunocompromised. I wont lie, but I think Rei is almost kinda... glad when you get sick? She enjoys you being dependant on her for the most things, even when you grow up and are able to handle a cold, she still deludes herself into thinking that you need mommy to come and help you.
I think the one person who is most affected by reader getting sick, no matter what age, is Enji. The man just cant help but view you as a fragile, starving Victorian child the moment you fall ill. In his eyes, even a harsh blow of air is too much for a fragile thing like you, let alone something as bad as the flu. He just- he's holding toddler reader in his arms, who snuggles into his warm body, your tiny nose pink and he cant get the image of you crying and vomiting and being oh so feverish- thats just way too much for your small body. Oh how he almost cried when he took you to the doctor for a shot and you clung to him, trying to bury yourself into him as you begged him to make you feel better, cried to him that you didnt want to get the "big scary needle!" He just had to hold you there in his firm grip as you writhed, had to look away when you looked at him and he saw the feeling of betrayal in your eyes, had to keep himself from not strangling the fucking doctor for not being careful, had to walk out of the clinic and hand you to Rei because he couldnt hear you cry anymore, had to have Rei console both you and Enji (assuring him that "no, Enji. Y/n doesnt resent you for making her get a shot.") and he couldnt even sleep a wink that night because he was standing by your bed, holding your tiny hand with his pinky as a tear finally slipped out of his eye.
ALSO thinking about adult reader going out of the house to meet up with friends, except shes meeting up with them at a club instead of at their house like she told Enji and Rei, and now shes standing outside, abandoned by said friends, and shes now running because a group of pervy men are chasing her and she doesnt know who to call, so she just speed dials Shotou, except someone just changed all your speed dials to one number, and you think youre doomed when Shotou doesnt say a word to you and just hangs up when within minutes, someone comes in front of you-
"Dabi?" He tells you to cover your ears and look away, and you know well by know what that means, so you obey, feeling a bit regretful as those men begin to scream in agony. You dont know how long its been until Dabi pulls your hands away and examines your wounds. He lets you crash into his chest as you sob, and this time, Dabi simply decides to take you home quietly without a lecture.
Hmmm, also thinking about Natsuo who is usually cool as a cucumber, the most normal being in the family, except for his very rare episodes of unbridled rage where he suddenly becomes the Hulk. Good thing for you is that this anger is never directed towards you, rather towards people who actively threaten your life (except Rei cause she gets to play "Im your mom who became mentally unstable because of your abusive dad") The only time NAtsuo is stern with you is when it comes to your health. He's just looking at you with those strict eyes when you refuse to take your multivitamins, or dont want to get a flu shot, or try to make up an excuse so that he cant check your vitals. And when he just grabs your wrist and pulls you to sit down so that he can do his checkup, its in those moments that you realise just how strong your brother is... and how easy it may be for him to overpower you and sedate you if he ever followed through Rei's threats.
#yandere bnha#bnha headcanons#yandere mha#bnha imagines#yandere dabi#yandere todoroki clan#yandere endeavor#yandere natsuo todoroki#yandere enji todoroki#yandere rei todoroki
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𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)
eddie munson x fem!reader
summary you and eddie broke up because you were too scared to love him. so when you need someone and he's the only person you want to run to, what are you supposed to do? (4.8k)
warnings talk of a bad home situation, mentions of abuse, references to mental health, anxiety, crying, very subtle mention of a panic attack, angst i suppose?, fluff, smut, kissing, unprotected sex (don't do this!), lots of feelings. i have probably missed something i'm so sorry <3
The downpour of rain beat down against the windows of your car and was almost loud enough to drown out the myriad of thoughts that were swirling around your mind.
You didn’t know why you were here.
That was a lie, you knew exactly why you were there. It was because this was the only place you could think to go. And Eddie was the only person you felt safe with. Never mind the fact that you had broken up last month. You had been the one to break up with him.
But tonight every emotion you were feeling felt too overwhelming. The sadness and anxiety that you could normally let go of seemed to consume your every thought, washing over you like a wave until they drowned you. Of course, it didn’t help that the only sounds around to drown out your thoughts were those of a not-so-calming nature.
Your mom and her boyfriend had been fighting constantly. Screaming, shouting and harsh words became a sort of white noise in your household. You would listen with your door cracked open in case you needed to call for help. You felt an innate need to protect her, even from herself.
The fighting was so common that it rarely bothered you anymore, but tonight everything had gotten to be too much. It was non-stop, pushing you to the edge and causing you to get in your car and drive over here without thinking twice about it.
And now you were sitting in your car, fiddling with the necklace that hung delicately around your neck, before slipping it back underneath your jumper, letting the ring that hung from it hit your cold skin. And tried to figure out what the fuck you were thinking? What made you think he would even want to see you? You had broken his heart, he had told you that. And those words played on repeat in your head every day, like your own personal form of torture.
Eddie knew you didn’t have a great home life. It was why you practically lived with him and Wayne when you were still together. You had your own drawer full of clothes and your belongings were always dotted through the trailer. A book you were reading thrown on the sofa, your blanket folded over the back of a chair, or your toiletries in the bathroom next to Eddie’s.
You never spoke about the reason you were there so often. You didn’t need to. Eddie knew all too well what it felt like to live in that sort of environment, so you never needed to explain anything to him. When you would turn up at his door at midnight, tears streaming down your face and shaking hands clenched by your sides, he didn’t need you to tell him anything else. He pulled you into him and rested his head against yours and asked what you needed him to do.
You just needed to be with him.
So that became a sort of routine between the two of you. Eddie would wait for you each night, and when you would ultimately turn up in the early hours of the morning, almost no words would be exchanged between the two of you. Instead, you would walk to his bedroom and fall asleep next to him. He understood. He knew you were tired and didn’t feel safe falling asleep in your own home sometimes.
If simply letting you fall asleep curled up next to him was all you needed, he would do it until the end of time.
Until you let the guilt overwhelm you. Eddie deserved better, he didn’t deserve to be in a relationship where he felt like he had to protect you all the time. You could look after yourself, take care of yourself, you had done it for years until you met Eddie. But there was this nagging thought in the back of your mind that you were relying on Eddie too much, and would eventually hurt him in one way or another. The break-up was quick, you barely let him get a word in before you left him standing alone in his bedroom. Confused and heartbroken.
You left so quickly because you didn’t trust yourself not to change your mind if you looked at him any longer.
Which is exactly why you shouldn’t be knocking on his door right now. It was exactly why you should turn around and go home, instead of being in the one place you shouldn’t be. It was-
“Oh- hey,” Eddie stood in front of you, his hair falling in loose curls around his shoulders. He looked tired, unsurprising considering it was almost midnight, but still, it was an unnerving sight. His usual honey-thick smile was nowhere to be seen.
There was uncertainty flickering in his doe eyes. But he didn’t tear his gaze away from you for even a second.
“Hey um- fuck, okay I’m sorry I should-” your voice trembled as you fought to get the words out. The truth was you weren’t entirely sure what you should even say to him.
Do you apologise? Do you tell him what’s going on at home? Do you tell him that you feel like you haven't been able to breathe since you broke up?
You hadn’t realised how long it had been since you’d said anything, but you see Eddie raise his eyebrows, almost hidden behind his hair, and you stumble on your own feet, taking in a shaky breath and opening your mouth to say…something.
But nothing came out. So instead, Eddie said, “Look, why don’t you- shit, at least come inside, it’s too fucking cold to be standing out here.”
You nodded your head and he moved to the side to let you step into the warmth. You felt something heavy settle over your chest, being back here it was… it felt like home. The soft orange hue of the lamps lit up the rooms. The aroma of home-cooked food hit you and you remembered how many times Wayne would make sure there was a spare plate of food set aside for you, in case you turned up.
The TV was playing quietly with the soft murmurs of the dialogue, from the film he had clearly been watching, echoed through the trailer. You were pulled out of your thoughts by Eddie calling you over to the couch where he had already sat down again.
You considered telling him you had made a mistake, but your feet carried you over to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. You sat down on the other end of the couch, pulling your legs up and sitting with them crossed in front of you. Eddie watched your every move, taking in all of your little mannerisms he had missed so much.
“Are you…are you okay? I mean you used to come here if it got- you know if it got bad.” Eddie asked you, his eyes fixed back onto the TV the minute he started speaking to you again; almost as if he was afraid of what he would say if he kept looking at you.
“Yeah, they uh- I don’t fuckin’ know why they do this shit to themselves. They fight all the time, they’ve gotta be miserable.” you tried to sound as casual as you could, but even you could hear the distress your voice carried.
Eddie heard it too and it made his whole body tense up. He still wanted to fix everything for you. He still wanted to pull you into him and tell you everything would be okay.
“Yeah I know sweet-” he cut himself off before he could finish the word, but it made you feel close to tears nonetheless. Even after what had happened, he still immediately wanted to call you that. Fuck.
Eddie cleared his throat before he carried on speaking, clearly thinking over his choice of words. “I know but- you know they’re fully grown adults, you can’t…you have to let them sort their own shit out.”
“That’s my mom, Eddie-”
“I know, shit I know.” You swear you could almost see the way his eyes glazed over as his memories came flooding back to him. You didn’t know everything about his past, but he had told you enough.
“I just worry about her. He’s not a good guy, you know? But I couldn’t stay there tonight, and I know that makes me the worst fucking daughter but-”
“Hey, no. Don’t say shit like that.” his voice was harsher than it had been before, with a kind of authority to it that sent shivers running down your spine.
He still cared about you. Of course, he did. -
“You are not responsible for protecting your parents, that is their job. You are not a bad daughter, you’re a- shit, we’re still kids. We shouldn’t have to deal with all of that, it’s not fair.” you knew he was talking more about himself now, and that made it hurt even more. You being here, the reason you were here, brought up a lot of trauma for Eddie. But he would never outright admit that.
You turned to face Eddie, moving closer to him so your knees scraped his, and leaned against the back of the couch, resting your head on your hand. “Yeah, you’re right.” Eddie fiddled with one of his rings as he listened to you speak. You had to resist the urge to lean over and hold his hand in yours. “It’s not fair. But there’s nothing we can do, so…”
“So…here you are.”
“Here I am.”
There was a beat of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just…quiet, and relaxing. There was something unspoken exchanged between both of you. Some mutual understanding that right now wasn’t the time to talk about everything. Even though Eddie had a million questions for you, for now, he was happy enough to have you sit next to him again. Like you had done a million times before.
You leant back again, sinking into the couch cushion beneath you and let your eyes drift back to the TV. Eddie copied you, relaxing into the couch and resting his head against the back of it as you both sat in silence.
After ten minutes or so you couldn’t help but steal glances at Eddie every now and then. The light from the TV lit up his face, and from this close to him you could see the light freckles that dotted across his nose and underneath his eyes. His eyes were almost honey-brown in the orange hue of the room, and you could tell he had only washed his hair a few hours ago. His curls had a soft frizz to them and you missed how they felt between your fingers.
Your gaze moved down to where his hands were resting. You didn’t realise how much you could miss someone's touch. He always used to have one of his hands on you. Whether he was holding your hand, resting it on your leg or letting it run up and down your back as you lay next to him.
Soon enough the film ended and Eddie stood up to sort it out; you watched him and for a second you were sure he was going to ask you to leave.
But then he stood up from where he had been kneeling down next to the TV and sighed before saying, “Come on.”
“What- what are we doing?” you moved to sit up on the couch but didn’t stand up just yet.
Eddie looked around the room for a second as if he was gathering his thoughts before he lifted and dropped his shoulders in contemplation and said, “What we used to do. I’m not letting you go home tonight.”
You hesitated for a moment, “Well I can sleep on- on the couch.”
“If that’s what you want to do then that’s okay. But you don’t have to, you can sleep in my room. No expectations, nothing. I promise.” A subtle rosy flush coloured his cheeks whilst he spoke, and you bit back a smile at how even the mention of it had him nervous.
“No, yeah of course, um well thank- thank you.” You stood up and followed Eddie as he made his way to his room, turning off the lights as he went.
Before you had time to ask Eddie for clothes to sleep in he was handing you one of his t-shirts and a pair of your pyjama shorts you must have left there. “You can get changed in here, I’ll go to the bathroom.”
“Okay, thank you Eddie.” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. With Eddie out of the room, you took a second to gather yourself. You felt your heart start to race and your hands shake, a tell-tale sign that you were getting overwhelmed. Only this time you knew it would all be okay because Eddie would be back soon.
You changed into the clothes he had given you and you sat on top of his bed waiting for him to come back. Even though you knew you would be sleeping in his bed tonight it still felt somewhat presumptuous of you to get under the comforter already.
You heard movement from outside his room and sure enough, Eddie walked back through his bedroom door a moment later. He had a pair of boxers on and the same t-shirt he was wearing earlier.
You knew he always sleeps in just his boxers, but you also appreciated he probably left his t-shirt on out of respect.
The truth was you wouldn’t have minded if he didn’t leave it on. Feeling his skin pressed against yours used to ground you when nothing else could. But you supposed things couldn’t be the same anymore. Of course, they couldn’t.
Eddie’s eyes dipped down to your neckline, you weren’t sure what had caught his attention at first, “You still wear it?”
What-
Oh.
The necklace. With his ring on it. He gave it to you after he had developed a habit of slipping his rings onto yours fingers whenever he got the chance. He gave you the necklace and his favourtie ring because then there would “always be a part of him with you.” Which was exactly why you still wore it.
“Oh um- yeah, I do. I’m sorry if that’s strange or…”
“No. No, it’s not weird.” you saw a pained expression paint his face before he smiled and turned around, facing away from you.
“Are you gonna get into bed or?” You could hear his signature smirk even if you couldn’t see him, his back was turned to you as he finished taking his rings off.
“Oh- yeah, okay. ‘M sorry-“
“You need to stop saying sorry, just act normal. This can be normal, right?” Eddie walked over to his bed and threw himself down under the covers, he was all long limbs and curly hair and for a second you didn’t know why the hell you had ever left him.
You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say in response. It felt like he was giving you a chance to explain yourself. To tell him what was going on in your head.
“Yeah this can be normal” was you all could say. Because you did want this to be normal, but you needed to know what Eddie was thinking, so as you lay down next to him and stared up at the ceiling you said, “Do you hate me?”
“Do I- shit, why would I hate you?” you weren’t sure if the disbelief in his voice made you feel better or worse.
“I was an asshole.”
“You broke up with me, that doesn’t make you an asshole, that makes you a person who has her own thoughts and feelings. And makes her own decisions” Eddie’s voice didn’t carry much emotion. It was flat and monotone, and you had never heard him sound like that before.
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to be… I don’t know- annoyed with me for how I did it.”
“What? You came over, you told me you didn’t want to be in a relationship anymore and you left. What else were you meant to do? A break up’s a break-up.” you couldn’t see his face, both of your expressions shrouded in the darkness of the room.
“I shouldn’t have… I should have explained myself to you, but I was… I wasn’t doing good, you know? And I guess-”
“You fell out of love with me, it’s okay. It happens.”
His words hit you like a punch to the chest and your breath got caught in his throat as you processed his words. Fallen out of love? No. No, you could never fall out of love with him. You loved him too much. You loved him so much it terrified you. A stillness took over the room, and all you could hear was the ruffling of the sheets as Eddie turned over, muttering a reluctant good night under his breath.
You didn’t want to push any boundaries he was clearly putting up between the two of you. You had hurt him and you knew he was only protecting himself. But it killed you nevertheless. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and blinked back tears. Turning over to fall asleep, in the same bed you had done so many times, except this time you weren’t curled into his side with his arms wrapped around you.
A few hours had passed and although you were trying, you couldn’t let yourself drift off to sleep. You lay in complete silence and let your thoughts ruin any chance of you getting a peaceful night. Eddie was asleep, you thought he was anyway. Just as you had decided to get out of bed and walk to the kitchen for a glass of water, you heard movement beside you.
“Are you okay?” Eddie. His voice was thick with sleep, deeper and rougher than it usually sounded, but a voice you were all too familiar with.
“Yeah ‘m fine.”
“What’s wrong?” Eddie had turned onto his back now, waiting for an answer, and when you didn’ reply he simply said, “you only say you’re fine when you’re so far from it that it scares you.”
“I just can’t sleep, that's all.” you lay back down and hesitated for a moment before whispering, “I never fell out of love with you.”
You felt Eddie still next to you, and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears and your cheeks heating up.
“Oh.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you. I was so scared that- that we would end up being exactly the same as everyone around us. I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t-”
“You still love me?” you could hear the pain that laced his voice as he breathed out the words.
“Yes.”
The words sat heavy between the two of you, the room was still dark, almost pitch black, but a lone streetlamp from outside allowed a slither of orange light to screep through the space between the blinds, allowing you to see Eddie’s face. His eyes cut to yours when he said, “Then why did you do it?”
If your heart wasn’t already in pieces then Eddie had just made sure of it. His voice was soft, as if he was afraid of the answer.
“Because what if we turn into our parents.”
“Oh, sweetheart-”
You were crying. Silent tears that fell down your face, pooled in the corner of your eyes and stained your cheeks with the reminder that you couldn’t trust yourself to love someone in fear of hurting them. Eddie didn’t cry, but that was because he had cried so much after you had ended things with him that he didn’t have the energy left to cry now; although hearing your breath hitch with every tear that fell threatened to send him over that edge with you.
“Come here, it’s okay.” Eddie cooed, and you didn’t waste another second not being in his arms. You stretched out your arms to find his already waiting for you, pulling you into his chest and letting your head rest there, where it used to rest every night.
You let him wrap you in his arms and you let yourself sink into him, throwing a leg over his and nuzzling your face into his chest. He whispered comforting words into the still air and you listened to him, truly believing him when he told you he loved you.
You told him you loved him too.
You lay like that and spoke about everything you needed to until you noticed the sun peeking in through the curtains, replacing the soft orange light of the streetlamps that had graced the room throughout the night. Eddie told you that you should both try and get some sleep, you nodded your head with the little energy you had left and let your eyes drift shut.
You slept knowing you were back where you were always meant to be.
By the time you woke up the room had gone dark again, and you felt a panic surge through you at just how long you must have been asleep for. Eddie was stil there, holding you.
“What time is it?” your voice was raspy, the way it always was when you had just woken up.
“It’s only the afternoon, you’re okay.” Eddie ran his hand over your back and pushed your hair out off your face to look at you.
“Why is it so dark?” you aksed him, perplexed.
“The sun got really bright, you know as the sun does,” you laughed at his words, more so you laughed at how he didn’t even realise what he said was funny. “And you started getting restless, I didn’t know if it was bothering you so I put a blanket over the window and drew the blinds again, so it would be darker.”
He must have pulled you back against him when he got back into bed. “How did you… put a blanket… over the window?”
“Don’t worry about it.” It scared you how sincere he could sound even when he was joking. “I’m magical what can I say.”
“Yeah,” you agreed “you really are.”
Eddie let out a sigh as you moved off of him, laying on your side and staring at him. Eddie mirrored your actions, moving to rest on his side so you were face to face.
“I’m still so sorry about-”
“What will it take to get you to stop apologizing to me?” Eddie asked you, faked annoyance in his voice.
You smiled and your eyes flicked down to his lips. He noticed, the same way he noticed everything. “Can you kiss me?”
“Yeah” he breathed out before he had his hand resting on your cheek and his soft lips pressing onto yours, your bottom lips between both of his. He kissed you like he had never stoped kissing you. He kissed you like it was the one thing he had been put on this earth to do. And you kissed him back like you had something to prove. But mostly you kissed as if you were kissing the life back into each other.
The kiss stayed slow and gentle for as long as either of you could hold out for; but suddenly it all became too much and when Eddie’s tongue ran over your bottom lip you let the dam break and allowed it to consume your entire being.
You kissed like the other could slip away at any moment. Somehow, in between desperate kisses and his tongue running over yours, Eddie had moved to rest above you, his arms caged around either side of your head, holding him up. You let your fingers get tangled in his hair and he let his lips move down to your neck, his head nustled there as he kissed over your most sensitive spot. You already knew your neck would be covered in small reminders of him by the end of this; red and purple love bites marking your neck.
You let him kiss you and touch you and you were sure you would let him do whatever else he wanted. When his hand slipped under your pjyama shorts and you let him touch you, you knew you would have to let him do whatever he wanted later. Because right now you needed to feel him inside of you. You needed to be as close to him as the laws of the universe would grant you.
“Eddie, fuck, please I need you to fuck me.” you had never been paticurally graceful with words, not being blessed with a way of words like Eddie was, but right now that didn’t matter because with Eddie’s lips on your neck and his hands roaming your body there wasn’t a chance in the world of you stringing together a coherent sentence, let alone sounding like Shakespeare.
You felt Eddie‘s lips curl up into a smile against your neck before he pulled away from you, lifing his head to rest his forehead against yours. “You don’t want me to-”
“No. No, please baby I just need you inside me” you didn’t like to beg but with the way his eyes bore into yours you knew you would beg until the end of time if you had to. Not that Eddie would let you do that.
“Okay, okay angel. I’ve got you, gonna give you what you need, huh?” Eddie pressed a chaste kiss to your swollen lips before he pulled away from you again, pulling of his boxers whilst you desperately tried to get your shorts and panties off as quickly as you could, your shaky hands making the tast exponentially more difficult than it should have been. Eddie took over for you, pulling them down your legs and tossing them off somewhere into the darkness of the room.
You pulled him back to you, your hand resting on the back of his neck and kissed him until you felt dizzy, and wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Sweets, I need to get a condom-” Eddie spoke between deep kisses. You knew he was right, but you were on the pill and you hadn’t slep with anyone else since Eddie so…
“No. I need to feel all of you.” you knew your words had taken Eddie by surprise, but by the way his brows knitted together and his hips rolled against yours, you knew he was just as desperate for it as you were.
“Are you sure?” Eddie looked right at you, watching your face for any uncertainty. But when all he was met with was a breathy yes and begging eyes he let himself do what you were asking of him.
Shared okays and a bout of almost-nervous laughter was shared between the two of you, but was suddenly and brutally ripped away from you when Eddie sank into you and you felt the world re-align on its axis. Everything making sense again.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking perfect sweetheart. I missed you so much, you have no idea-”
“I missed you too.”
Eddie let himself breathe for a minute or two before he eventually started rocking his hips gently into yours. He took it slow, wanting to savour every moment he got with you. He promised himself he would remember how your lips felt against his as he swallowed your whimpers and moans. He remembered how your nails felt scratching down his back whenever he hit that sweet spot inside of you that only he could reach. When your back arched off the back he let his arm slip underneath you, pulling you close to him and fucking you through everything you were both feeling.
Not many words were exchanged, apart from the occasional whimper of one another’s name, because you didn’t need words to express what you were feeling right now.
Once Eddie’s hand slipped between your bodies, you were coming undone underneath him like you had done so many times before. Only this time it felt like the start of something more. Eddie buried his head in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder as he came undone only a couple of seconds after you had. Both you of you held each other through the overwhelmingness of your highs, your hands running through his hair and his hands holding onto you like you were all he needed.
You stayed like that for who knows how long. Sharing stolen kisses and whispered promises. Time didn’t matter when you were with Eddie. Nothing mattered when you were with him, that was the beauty of everything. You were the only people who could quieten each other’s minds.
.
.
.
authors note hi loves. i wrote this tonight in just under two hours with a raging headache and the occasion cry. so, if there are spelling or grammar errors i can only apologise. it is 1am and i don't have the energy to reread it and check. i hope it wasn't too bad nonetheless <3
taglist @lunarzstarz @emmalee-01 @lma1986 @eddieshoneyy @harringtonfan4 @leelei1980 @joeschains @keirasreplies @niname92 (this means i tried to tag you but i couldn't!)
tumblr please don't delete any of this thank you love you
#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson st4#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson filth
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6th Bakugou x Reader FANFIC RECS
some are short but they're good hehe (most of these are suggestive :P)
> • 𝑹𝒆𝒄 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕
" Dream Eater " by justatypicaltrash
dream eater!bakugou x reader
warning: slight angst
bakugo is an eternal living dream eater.
" I Like You, Okay?! " by kikyo-bnha-imagines
bakugou x fem!reader
summary: katsuki struggles to confess to his crush.
" Workshopped Romance " by itsmm4hiii
pro-hero!bakugou x fem!reader
summary: working for a hero costume designer has its perks like; meeting heroes, playing with cool technologies, getting you're name out- y/n didn't really expect her own boss will try and hook her up with a customer.
" Blood Moonlit, Must be Counterfeit " by irisintheafterglow
pro-hero!bakugou x reader
warning: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol
summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes.
WARNING | beneath the cut are slightly suggestive to full on smut fics
" no title " by moominsuki
bakugou x fem!reader
warning: ch. 359-362 spoilers kinda. a little suggestive but fluff all around
summary: katsuki hates being off the job. but what he hates more is being treated like glass, especially by you.
" as the years go by " by quitesins
pro-hero!bakugou x fem!reader
warning: suggestive, slight nsfw, friends to lovers, unrequited love ig? virgin!reader, drabble
summary: being friends with bakugou since UA, watching each other change as the years go by, but still having room to learn more, so much more.
" no title " by izvmimi
warning: palace drama au, multiple wives, fem!reader, brief explicit sex.
" One More Time " by yanderenightmare
warning: derogatory dirty talk, spanking, angsty but with a fluffy ending
" no title " by dreamland03
bakugou x reader
warning: mention of sex like once, drinking, mention of trauma, bad self image
" Come Sit " by saturnorbits
bakugou x fem!reader
warning: cock-warming
summary: after a long day, all you need is bakugo.
" Feral " by smiley-babe
wolfhybrid!bakugou x fem!reader
warnings: aged up characters, lowkey monster fucking (hybrid bakugo has wolf ears, a tail, and fangs), knotting, HUGE breeding kink, no specific dynamics, biting, small blood kink (if you squint), marking/ bonding, heat/ rut behavior, panty sniffing, kind of rough sex, oral (f receiving), and fingering
summary: taking in a wolf hybrid already didn’t seem like a good idea, but when spring hits… all hell breaks loose.
" Personal Trainer!BKG " by bakubunny
personal trainer!bakugou x plus size!fem!reader
warning: oral sex (m receiving), rough sex.
" On To Better Things " by savnofilter
prohero!dilf!bakugou x fem!reader
warning: angst, strangers to lovers
sfw | toxic & abusive relationship, toxic baby daddy, mentions postpartum, mental health, arguing, mentions of legal proceedings, counseling, drama, cultural family expectations, love bombing, manipulation, a man being a hypocrite, reader low-key needs a new circle of people around them but that's neither here nor there, reader loves their daughter to pieces </3, reader's daughter is a hand full but we stan!, reader spaces out a lot, "our kids are best friends but we never met before and so happen to be single" trope.
nsfw | fingering, cunnilingus, groping, praise kink, reader has multiple orgasms (2, hinted 4), reader is a bit shy as it's been awhile and feels nervous, vocal queen reader, clothed sex, protected sex, comforting!bakugo, non-established relationship.
" Swipe Right " by ryukatters
bakugou x fem!reader
warning: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp
summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.
" no title " by katbakubae
bakugou x fem!reader
warning: language, dom!bakugou, possessiveness, jealousy, (mild) stalking, name calling, spanking, rough oral.
summary: sick of your boyfriends lack of time with you because of his busy schedule, you decided to take some time for yourself. unfortunately, letting that happen was never an option for him.
#bakugou x reader#bakugo fanfic recs#katsuki fanfic recs#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha katsuki x reader#bnha bakugo x reader#katsuki x you#bakugou x you#bakugo x you#bakugou katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#katsuki bakugo x y/n#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x yn#bakugo katsuki x you#bakugou katsuki fluff#katsuki bakugo fluff#katsuki fluff#katsuki bakugo smut
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Sleeping With Ghosts [[Series Masterlist]]
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC
There's nothing worse than finding out you've been lied to. Five years after having her heart ripped out, a knock at Charlotte's door turns her whole world upside down and she doesn't know how to feel about it.
or
Simon fucked up big time and has his own world turned upside down. Price thinks it might be karma.
TW: Smut, angst, fluff, mental health issues, past abuse, torture, mentions of past rape, pregnancy, PTSD, mentions of attempted suicide, the usual warnings for COD looool
A/N:
I finally caved and made a Tumblr lmao I'll be honest, this fandom intimidates the fuck out of me. Cross posting here from Ao3.
This story follows a Two Act structure. It will begin with the prologue which is set in current times (really kicking this story off with a bang lmaoooo). Then Act One will be set in the past and then Act Two is back in the present.
I’m going to be playing with different POVs to get a real sense of what's going on and there will be a lot of Ghost POV because I love being in his brain :’) I also won’t be tagging each chapter individually so please read the tags here and they will be updated as needed.
Now, to clarify some shit;
I’ve played around with the timeline and shit to make things work better and had to fill in some gaps. We know that Ghost joined the military after the 911 attacks and I had him be 18 when that happened (meaning he was born in 1983). If I made him any older, he’d be even older than I wanted him to be at present times. As it was now, he turned out at 40 in 2023 (when I started this fic). I didn't really want him to be that old (not that 40s old, but you know lmao) so for the sake of this story, ‘present time’ is 2019 and he’s 36.
And the last note; I’m in fact from Manchester myself. Ghost doesn’t have a Manchester accent in the least. No idea why, I always presumed it was something about him joining the military, maybe he picked up an accent similar to a London one or something, but boy is that accent not Mancunian. Not that its a bad thing because I fucking hate Mancunian accents and I say that as someone who has one lololol I won't be mentioning the fact his accent isn't quite right in the story ‘cause that's just awkward :’)
Some chapters will be accompanied with a song that fits (sometimes loosely) the theme of the chapter.
Prologue
Act One: Chapter One
Act One: Chapter Two
Act One: Chapter Three
Act One: Chapter Four
Act One: Chapter Five
Act One: Chapter Six
Act One: Chapter Seven
Act One: Chapter Eight
Act One: Chapter Nine
Act One: Chapter Ten
Act One: Chapter Eleven
Act One: Chapter Twelve
Act One: Chapter Thirteen
Act One: Chapter Fourteen
Act One: Chapter Fifteen
Act One: Chapter Sixteen
Act One: Chapter Seventeen
Act One: Chapter Eighteen
Act One: Chapter Nineteen
Act One: Chapter Twenty
Act One: Chapter Twenty One
Act One: Chapter Twenty Two
Act One: Chapter Twenty Three
Act One: Chapter Twenty Four
Act One: Chapter Twenty Five
Act One: Chapter Twenty Six
Act One: Chapter Twenty Seven
Interlude
Act Two: Chapter One
Act Two: Chapter Two
Act Two: Chapter Three
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x oc#ghost x oc#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x oc
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Abott Inc.
The manufacturing plant was abuzz with Tony Abott
Two of him handled a repair on the bottom floor, replacing a slipped wheel in record time. Another watched, ready to jump into motion at any evidence of a problem. Six others manned the quality checks, spouting off curses and shooting the shit as their muscle memory handled all the heavy lifting of searching for faults. Two were out to get lunch, carrying in tow the same burger order for a factory’s worth of the same exact man.
Only the forewoman was unique, a beautiful buff woman who acted to make sure that their unified state of mind never got them in trouble. She kept them out of trouble just as a single Tony kept the factory full of identical copies of her safe in turn.
It was good being Tony.
Years of education in all manners of factory positions, skill in any task that this facility could need. A physique built by an equal time training practically, nothing gained from the gym. Each muscle was built for practicality and each of him could handle a world of weight just on his own.
This body had once been a man named Braedon. He’d been college educated in computer sciences, a prodigy of his field. He could code anything given a couple hours alone, so long as he had coffee and some good junk food. He was set for a comfy corporate throne after a few years on the bottom, rising high and fast.
It had been boring.
Years of brutal education gave way to months spent in bureaucracy, unable to complete a task that would’ve taken minutes without weeks of back and forth with incompetent bosses. Emails that took longer to write than the quick line of code that would fix the issue.
Braedon loved the feeling of a job well done. Reclining back as the circuits ran perfectly and the tasks played out like a line of dominos falling one after one.
Corporate was like watching every step of his Rube Goldberg machine get interrupted by a whiney man in a suit named Todd or Larry. Made Braedon want to scream and tear down his perfectly built systems just so he could be the one to fuck it up.
The factory had been his life line.
It had been a simple invoice. A practical job that promised everything he could ask for. No boss criticizing his work at every step, chipping away at his confidence. No choking atmosphere to his work, watched by a hundred people in the building that thought their business degrees gave them insight on system design. Way more money than he ever thought possible for a blue-collar job. More than he was making at the moment in his bland yet expensive cubical.
There was a catch.
Braedon had no experience in anything outside of the digital world. He’d traded his body and health in exchange for his degrees. One couldn’t become as specialized as him without sacrificing the self-care that was so important in the labor required of a factory worker.
The factory knew that, but they had an easy fix.
Tony Abott had interviewed him. The singular original Tony Abott.
He was a prodigy in his own right. The industry wet dream. Ruggedly attractive and overly competent. Charismatic and eager to please.
He’d been honest with Braedon from the start. They had their hands in some strange technology and they needed even stranger candidates. Each selected for their unique physiologies and mental states that would make them perfect for their shared role.
Tony said that he’d been selected for his flexible sense of self and pathological loneliness. He’d been like Braedon, giving up his social life so he could be the best of the best. Was left hollow when he reached that height and started depersonalizing without staring himself in a mirror to remember that he existed.
Braedon had been selected after being profiled as similarly lost. Doctor’s notes demanding he eat anything that wasn’t processed. Caffeine and cigarettes letting him keep up with hundreds of email arguments over a simple fucking project. The gut twisting feeling of watching what that abuse did to his body, stealing away whatever youth was left and replacing it with something tired and boney. The hunger to be anything except for Braedon, who never wanted to be understood by another person as the gaping pit of rage and self-disgust that had taken root in his heart.
They were a match for each other and Braedon hadn’t cared for whatever physiological horror a happier person might see in this deal.
He’d quit his shitty corporate hell the next day and made his goodbyes to whatever people passed for tolerable in those minimalist nightmare hallways. Wished them good luck breathing recirculated air-conditioned smog as he got ready to breath real fucking air.
He’d arrived at his second “interview” a week later, having spent the last days wrapping up affairs and communicating with the labor board. The factory wasn’t doing anything shady and the government had needed to setup Braedon’s paperwork for his new life. Little benefits and tax write off as reward for joining the latest and greatest of industrial innovation. That alongside the mountain of appointments they’d needed to make for new identification as his old ID photos wouldn’t identify him for shit in the following day.
Tony had joined him for this “interview”. Dressed to his best in a soft dress shirt and new jeans. Boots barely broken into and a new watch. A professional shave and tussled hair atop a cap, branded with the company logo. A shining example compared to the loose clothes Braedon had been told to wear, making him look anything but a put together future coworker.
A second set of Tony’s exact outfit lay next to the door, atop a shoebox and a fancy new duplicate watch.
They’d made a toast to brotherhood, those two lonely men. Tony had supplied his favorite beer, cheap piss Budweiser. It went down watery and flat, nothing like the vodka tonics Braedon felt most suited to when he was in an alcoholic mood. The slight burn of it travelled down his throat, soothing yet peppery. It brought a head high like nothing else, feeling as if the golden liquid had flowed into his brain and body before it could even reach his stomach.
Alcohol didn’t feel like this, but this wasn’t exactly Alcohol.
Tony had tried to explain whatever biochemical cocktail was laced into the drink. It was all for the sake of complete transparency, they weren’t in the business of trickery. Something to do with forced recombination and stem cells. Braedon was a highly intelligent man, but there was a reason he’d never dipped into biology. Tony seemed the same, rattling off a scripted explanation that he had probably practiced time and time again to look like he understood what he was saying.
Braedon sipped his beer as Tony attempted small talk. They were very different people. Tony seemed awkward as if he felt judged by every little glance that Braedon gave him. Braedon was used to analyzing a person by now, searching for faults that he could use to his advantage. Braedon had been the kindest person at his old workplace but that had been a low bar and he had still become cruel. Braedon could see every way that Tony felt insecure around anyone but himself, as if he didn’t have every tool at his command to be a juggernaut.
The ichor in the drink flowed through Braedon’s neurons and there was a memory. A kid who wasn’t him being criticized at every turn for jobs he’d sworn he’d done correctly. Credit taken from a pre-teen for perfect machines that could cut production times by half. The same instances over and over, leaving a man desperately trying to prove himself to a system that would use him and give the patent to his boss. That despair and betrayal settled comfortably in the spaces of Braedon’s own memories.
Braedon grit his teeth in subtle rage. His jawline had broadened and his face itched and it felt good in some odd way. Matched that swelling feeling of righteous anger.
The ichor altered how Tony fit in his brain. The insecurity became more and more relatable with every swallow. A memory of the guy’s only partner calling him pathetic, using every shitty doubt Tony had confided to wicked abandon. The breakup replayed in the man’s mind like nothing else, a cacophony of how he was weak and annoying and awful in every way.
Braedon wanted to punch that piece of shit and laugh in their face. Braedon knew to heart what human garbage was and Tony was anything but. Braedon could feel the waves of Tony’s insecurity reach through his mind and falter in the wake of Braedon’s own memories. Braedon wished he could have someone like Tony, over eager to be romantic and prepare for anniversaries. Wished he could inject his own point of view on the guy’s memory of his part love and how jealous and narcissistic they actually were.
The Budweiser began to taste good. Braedon could remember the first time they’d drunk it. A trade school kid picking up the cheapest shit at the gas station on their twenty first, drinking as he carved away at a block of wood deep into the night. The carbonation had made the swill all the more comforting, a bitter spot against the peace of his work station. It tasted like shit, but the good type of shit. Fit him and his sweaty downtime, relaxing as he sculpted pine and oak into art.
At some point their conversation stopped being awkward. The words flowed better and better as Braedon felt understanding coating his mind. Nervous jokes became relatable and the nasty feeling that had sat at home in Braedon’s chest for so long felt like it was shrinking. He found himself chuckling at the stories Tony explained, remembering them in tandem with fresh eyes.
The times Tony had nearly burned down any number of mills and processing facilities. The rampant animals that added chaos to his life, including amongst their diversity a very confused bear and a unfortunately horny moose.
Braedon was crying with laughter as he and Tony pieced together how he’d pranked an old shitty supervisor. Braedon could practically hear that supervisor’s rage as his computer downloaded virus after virus, prompted by a helpful little auto-clicker that Tony had installed one late night after another unpaid bout of overtime.
Tony physically unwound as their conversation went on and the number of empty beer bottles increased. He no longer looked stiff in his new clothes, rather his relaxed muscles filled them out comfortably. His confidence changed him, his smile lighting up the room and his mood infectious.
Braedon hadn’t been gay before this, but a shift in his sexuality had been a part of the deal. Tony’s basic information had been open to him and a little pansexuality felt like a pretty good upgrade to Tony’s own deal.
Braedon could remember all the times Tony had felt wrong in the mirror melding into one. Picking apart himself for looking too old, too awkward and too fake. It was all insane of course, as Braedon could easily dissect. Braedon felt his own mind guide that fragment of Tony in his mind to see what he saw, forcing it to witness Braedon’s own perspective instead of that toxic mindset downloaded into the guy since his father had disowned him.
Braedon could feel all his own shit get digested into the well of personality inside his head. Not destroyed exactly, but reorganized. His own insecurities broken down by the logic of Tony Abott as the logic of Braedon Santoro did the same in turn. Fast tracking therapy with only a couple bottles of booze.
He could feel his own memories of coding alone slot next to Tony’s life of construction. The things that made Tony burned brighter in his mind compared to his own pieces, but they were never devoured. Braedon felt himself begin to lurk behind the soul of the man in front of him, but it wasn’t anything like a mask.
The deal hadn’t been to bury Braedon beneath Tony. Braeden would still be there but the man that Tony was would predominate. Tony would trade him his individuality in exchange for this new self. Braeden would give up his old life in exchange for an equal claim to this new identity.
Braeden became Tony, from inside out as the beer coated his tongue like cold nectar. Felt himself become saturated with the man, siphoning every bit of his personality into his soul, feeling the ichor in his blood tremble as it changed the body to fit the mind.
His scrawny body filled with density, calories from the beer being more than efficiently transformed into muscle fibers and sturdy bones. The tar in his lungs dwindled and he breathed clearly. Tony had never smoked a single day in his life and the man that was once Braeden savored the feeling. Savored the experience of having lived a life with more than microwaved meals, even if that life had its own many faults.
The loose clothing filled, his sweatshirt and sweatpants becoming oversized. He’d taken his shoes off prior to his first drink to Tony’s recommendation. Tony had larger feet than him as well as larger everything. Even his pants fit differently, filled much differently than they were before.
It was strange to no longer identify with a name, but he couldn’t think of himself anymore as Braeden. It didn’t fit anymore, supplanted by the name of the man in front of him. It wasn’t just that man’s name anymore, they shared it now.
They needed to share more than that.
Interviews should never go where they took it, but interviews rarely meddled with identity on such a scale. Tony had more understanding for the man in front of him than anyone else and the call to act on it was irresistible.
It happened when the man that was once Braeden began to strip his clothes off, forgoing the last thing that differentiated him from the other. They’d planned to don him in matching clothes and continue their conversation with the last of the prescripted beers. Head to the facility’s temporary doctor to confirm a success.
Tony had joked that he’d only felt this comfortable with another man once. The new Tony had replied that he knew and the part of Braeden permanently at his core flirted. Some charged comment that made them both blush, something about how it would be easier for them to match if Tony just took off his clothes.
They’d been awkward in it, because how couldn’t someone be awkward masturbating like that. A whole other body added to the scheme, even if that body was one you’d always known. They’d forgotten to remove the clothes of the first Tony entirely, so caught up in the feeling of that lockstep of their shared bodies working as one. Whatever was done would be mimicked in turn, a duet in symmetrical motion.
They’d finished together and the awkwardness dissolved. Both no longer held back by the fear of judgment from the other, when they functioned like two parts of the same being.
They’d gotten dressed together, tying their boots up and pulling their shirts on. An entirely new outfit that both Tonys reveled in without the presence of strangers making them second guess it. The one that was still Braeden in memory could feel the twist of amusement at their preening, his heart racing as he looked at his new twin. Braeden had never strongly cared for his appearance, but the sensation of feeling good in his new boots and new jeans was exhilarating compared to the apathy of before.
They’d headed to the doctor together, excitement in every step. With a clean bill of health and permission to continue on with the next man the following day, they were a force of nature.
One became two. Two prepared for three to become one. Three identical men lining up identification and licenses for a factory’s worth of them. Buying clothes in mass to handle a platoon of them.
The first Tony became lost in the crowd and it felt good. Most people weren’t cut out to spread their sense of self across so many. Tony seemed built for it, the pressure of being the best dulled to nothing as he became part of the best. Seeing numerous of himselves discover their identity as a group in their work and downtime. Using the memories of the men they once were to build upon what it meant to be Tony Abott.
They’d bring all kinds of folks home and show them what it was like to be with them. Give the few a taste of a whole world of confidence built through reinforcement. Strings became strong when wrapped into a rope and they were a realized person together.
Tony Abott, operating Abott Inc. Alone yet definitely not.
Pictures taken from Construction Bros series by GymDreams on Deviantart.
#identical#copy#clones#male shapeshift#shapeshift#male tf#male transformation#personality change#my writing#selfcest#muscle tf#muscle transformation#mental change
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TSC CHAPTER ELEVEN SPOILERS AHEAD
STARTING OFF THE CHAPTER STRONG AS FUCK DISASTER BISEXUAL JEAN MOREAU AWARENESS
picturing jean in a pair of raybans is good for my mental health
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“Missed a couple spots. Need a hand?”
jeremy u flirt
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do the trojans ever realise that jean is NOT IN FACT deaf and standing right in front of them when they are talking about him?
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oh ok so chapter 11 is in fact worse than chapter 10
if anyone reading this has ever believed that they deserved the abuse, trauma/suffering they’ve experienced, i’m here to tell u right now that nobody deserves that and it is not ever ur fault, no matter what others might say or try to convince u. whatever happened to u is unequivocally not ok. please seek help from a professional if u are worried about urself or others in ur life.
if u have ever felt uncomfortable or violated in certain situations just know that no matter how ‘big’ or ‘small’ the situation may seem (i use these terms loosely because i do not believing in ranking peoples traumas), ur feelings are 100% valid and u always always deserve to be respected and heard.
i hope u know that u are not alone and never will be.
sending lots of love to all of u
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wtff jenkins is a girl?? did we all know this or have i just read too many fanfics always thought jenkins was a guy?
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It was sacrilegious even in the privacy of his head, and Jean hunched his shoulders against a blow that never came.
fuck that’s a good line. traumatic as fuck and makes me wanna cry for all these boys have gone through but god as an ex-catholic raised queer person i can tell u this line struck hard even though i cant relate to the specifics of the scene
-
Jean didn’t mind cooking, but he didn’t say that. This was the first time his room truly felt safe and right, and he was content to hold onto it for as long as he could. He closed his eyes again, but now his thoughts were snagged on Jeremy. At length he broke the silence to say, “Two beds would fit in here.”
jean moreau u are so loved
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“You are not them,” Jean said. “Kevin would not have sent me here if you were.”
THE PARALLELS IN THIS BOOK ARE FUCKING KILLING ME PLS NORA LET ME LIVE IN PEACE THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME TO HANDLE
ANDREIL EXISTS IN EVERYTHING
-
Just because he had to meet with this man didn’t mean he had to speak to him.
jean, u diss aaron earlier in the books but really ur just the same as him
-
betsy dobson to the mother fuckibg rescue someone get this bitch a ‘worlds best therapist’ mug
and jean, dude do u know how fucking similar u and neil are, seriously like u guys should be besties like-
“It was not my choice,” he sent back in warning. “I do not need counseling.” He didn’t trust her at all, but there was no point spelling it out.
CHAPTER TWELVEE
dude wtf is it with me and napping while tryna finish this book, literally just accidentally fell asleep for 2.5 hrs when i could’ve been reading
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“Imagine getting changed so we can practice,” Jean said.
king is fed uppp
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“It’s not about size, anyway.” “Defensive,” Jean said, tugging his glove straps with his teeth. Jeremy straightened in indignation. “I don’t have anything to be defensive about.” Jean lost his grip and bit his lip, and Jeremy hurried on before either of them could think too much about that double entendre.
OKKKK JEREMY I SEE U
-
“That’s not—I do care. I want you to play with us, and I want you to have fun again. I want to see what you can do on the court and what you bring to our defense line. I want us to finally win this year after coming so close and failing too many times. But it’s just a game, Jean. Your safety and happiness will always be more important than our season.”
GOOD GOD ITS WHAT U DESERVE JEAN
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“Every time you say that you take a year off my life. I’d really like to live to ninety, so please knock it off.”
now the trojans understand how the foxes feel when neil whips out his ‘im fine’ line,, also i’m never gonna stop saying that neil and jean should be besties it’s literally just a fact
“I do not believe you when you are drinking such filth,” Jean said, with a disapproving look toward her drink. Laila stared him down as she sucked a long gulp through the straw,
this book is so devastatingly depressing and explores some of the most horrible traumatic things that could happen to a person but it’s interspersed with some of the funniest scenes that it gives me whiplash
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“Pat and Ananya have wanted to fuck Cody’s brains out for almost a year now. I really thought Cody moving in with them this summer was going to finally get that ball moving, but apparently not. It’s getting kind of pitiful.” “Pat and Ananya have been engaged almost as long as Cody has known them,” Laila pointed out as she fit herself against Cat’s side. “You can’t blame Cody for being scared of where they might belong in something like that.”
NORA GIVING US THE POLYAMORY WE DESERVE AFTER CUTTING KANDREIL FROM THE OG BOOKS LETS GO QUEER REP
YK THAT RUNNING JOKE THAT USC IS THE QUEEREST TEAM AND NOBODY HAS AS MANY GAYS AS THEY DO??? IM SO FUCKIBG HAPPY NORA HAS BASICALLY MADE THAT CANNON
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CHAPTER 13333
jeremy is so hopelessly crushing on jean and that’s real of him
meanwhile jean:
Threat assessment, he told himself, and it was almost the truth.
sureee buddy
-
They’d arrived holding hands and dressed in matching cream-and-teal outfits. Even their gold-rimmed sunglasses and teal sneakers were identical.
well that is definitely an outfit!
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“Speaking of happy endings, has Laila bought you a sex toy yet?”
EXCUSE ME
this whole scene was so fucking random but jean deserves great friendships
-
ANOTHER TRANS TROJAN LETS FYCKING GOOOOOO CONGRATS ON UR TOP SURGERY XAVIER
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‘i’m sure the ravens wouldn’t have taken neil in if they’d known he was the son of a mob boss!!’
uhhhhh…
i don’t know how to tell u this buddy
-
dude i just cannot stop think about the whole new world of fanfics we’re gonna get now that tsc has come out like the aftg universe is expanding and becoming more detailed it’s gonna be crazy
chapter 14!!!
-
Jean eyed him. “For what purpose?” Jeremy looked to the ceiling for patience. “For fun.” Jean sighed as if Jeremy was the one being unreasonable.
oh jean we’ll get there eventually
-
Jean was a starving dog on a short chain who’d learned years ago not to bite back.
OH MY FUCKING GOD GIVE ME PEACE
MY CHEST IS ACHING AT THIS METAPHOR
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SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP THE PARALLELS ARE DESTROYING ME I CANT FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE
“You are Jean Moreau. Your place is here with me, with us. I’m your captain. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to be doing this together, aren’t we? Stop leaving me behind. Look at me.”
-
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that he hurt you, I’m sorry that you’re still afraid to talk about it, and I’m sorry that you think I’ll never understand. I’m sorry that he tricked you into thinking you deserved it. But I’m not sorry he’s gone. I can’t be.”
“Neither am I.”
TEAR MY HEART OUT AND STOMP ON IT NORA JESUS CHRIST
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everytime one of the trojans says ‘we’re here to listen whenever your ready to talk and open up to us’ and then they go and demand he tell them every secret he’s ever kept
-
kevin and jeans relationship in this book is so fucking well written, it’s tearing me apart and giving me so much life
they have so much shared trauma and the relationship is so complex but they understand eachother so deeply
He is not used to having a voice, and he has never had power. I cannot promise he will ever talk to you.” “I will wait as long as it takes,”
“Be careful with it,” Kevin said. “Be careful with him.”
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“Night practices with Andrew and Neil,” Kevin said. “Obsessed,” Jeremy
exy fiend kevin day representation
also
“No, Jean is fine. As fine as he can be, anyway. Yes, I know.” (kevin when talking to someone ‘offscreen’) i just know he was talking to neil
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She crossed the room and leaned over, catching Jean’s head in her hands so she could plant a kiss to the top of his head.
this is the love jean deserves
chapter 15:
“Your fourth line has a smart mouth, Coach,” Jean said. “I was hoping he would bite his tongue off in the fall and save us both some grief in the long run.”
jean i love u
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Jean wished he had the common sense to shut up,
he’s so me
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“And keep Kevin’s name out of your ignorant mouth,”
THEYRE SO IMPORTANT TO ME UR HONOUR
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i keep forgetting that jean only learnt english after he moved into evermore and that kevin probably taught him but i love the subtle little reminders every now and then when he has to clarify a word, like when he has to ask what a ‘floozy’ is and:
due to egregious injuries.” Jean didn’t recognize that word, but since Lucas was already running his mouth, he didn’t get a chance to ask.
it’s such a good detail that just adds so much more depth to his character
-
“Permission to break his face, Coach?” Jean asked. “Denied,” White said.
SCREAMING
THIS IS SO NEIL AND WYMACK CODED I LOVE IT
-
JEAN MOREAU ON A MOTHERFUCKING MOTORCYCLE HOLY SHIT
catalina alvarez u wonderful human i love u
-
jean realising how big the world is and the fact that he’s explored more of california than any other place he’s been before is making me tear up he never should’ve been kept trapped inside he deserves to see the world
-
So long as she existed as fractured memories, she was safe and small and sheltered.
oh god don’t do this to me
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Jean gazed out at the endless horizon, feeling small and infinite from one moment to the next.
beautiful, just beautiful, absolutely immaculate
A cool evening breeze. Rainbows. Open roads.
A COOL EVENING BREEZE. RAINBOWS. OPEN ROADS
-
SECOND LAST CHAPTER!!! LETS GOOO
“He is not going to hit you. Okay? We don’t do that here. You said you’d try to do better and that’s enough for us.”
starting off strong
-
You’re one of my kids now.
don’t mind me i’m just sobbing
-
no no no no no no no no no
holy shit no what the fucking fuck
don’t do this to jean rn oh my fucking god i’m sick to my stomach on the verge of fully crying right now
actually dreading reading on right now
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um ok yeah so i read it and to anyone who hasn’t finished the book yet beware there is a graphic violent scene followed by an intense panic attack in chapter 16 that’s is very difficult to read
i did cry and all i can say is thank fuck for lisinski’s timing
-
Jeremy’s response was low but unhesitating: “I will not look away.” “I do not want you to look.” It frightened him how much it sounded like a lie,
-
only redeeming part of this chapter is that neil’s back but i’m still in so much shock over what’s just happened that i cant properly appreciate him
chapter 17 the finale:
feeling incredibly somber as i reach the end of the book
please god destroy anyone who has ever hurt jean moreau
-
nora’s really filling in all the plot holes left from aftg - why did nobody question why neil’s hair was dyed after evermore ????? why did nobody question neil being at evernote in the first place???
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i’m laughing at neil’s map print-outs he’s so uncool, also i keep forgetting this is still meant to be 2007
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jean-yves moreau oh my fucking god
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“says who?” Stuart asked. “The dead kid?
stuart hatford u are so funny, is this where neil inherited is sarcasm from?
stuart hatford says fuck riko and so do i
-
Neil shrugged. “Do you have anyone who can take on local work?”
NEIL JOSTEN U ARE MY HERO I LOVE U U BADASS MOTHER FUCKER
-
Neil offered her a disarming smile that would never sit quite right on his face.
devouring these scraps about my boy
-
YOOOO WTF NORA RLLY JUST WANTED TO GIVE JEAN THE WORST FUCKING DAY HE COULD POSSIBLY HAVE HUH?? JUST DROPPED THE FACT THAT HIS SISTER IS DEAD MY POOR BOY
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Neil filled in the finer details with an ease that would have been impressive to listen to any other day
- yes neil is incredibly smart, thank u jean for confirming to us
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The only thing left to ask for was something he barely understood: “I want to go home.”
oh the complicated nature of home and one’s sense of belonging that persists throughout these books will never fail to make me feel absolutely everything. nora knows exactly what i want in a book
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“I can see the kitchen. There should be a door out to where the dumpsters are. We can make it back to the garage from there.”
to be loved by neil josten is to be offered a way to evade the fbi together
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“Tedious,” Neil said. “I’m trying to eat.”
my hero
Neil waited until he was done before deciding he wanted to finish his drink. Neither agent was impressed with their absolute lack of urgency,
i love u neil josten pls give me ur autograph
Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to its front bumper and said, “That’s illegal, just so you know.” “Shut up and get in the car.”
i wish neil josten was real
-
He couldn’t fear a government who was so easily infiltrated and manipulated
FUCK THE GOVERNMENT
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Neil flipped his takeout box open and started eating. “I’m allowed to visit people.”
he’s everything to me 🥰
-
“You’re one to accuse others of intolerable attitudes,” Browning said, and Neil only shrugged indifference.
and—for once—without any of your usual bullshit.”
- browning u love him just like the rest of us don’t lie rn
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ngl i’m never getting over the fact that jean and neil are the same age like this is crazy to me nora whyd u have to do this i cant cope
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“The more people I hold onto, the less of a threat I am, because I won’t want to endanger them by acting out.”
oh neil look how far uve come, i’m so proud
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“Lock your door tonight if it will help, but Grayson will never bother you again.”
THANK U LORD FOR THE BRILLIANT NEIL JOSTEN HES ANSWERED MY PRAYERS U BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL HUMAN IM SO THANKFUL FOR UR PRESENCE
all my favourite bamf! neil fics have him taking out a hit on someone for the benefit of the people he loves and i’m so glad that’s canon
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i’m going fucjing crazy i didnt think it was possible to love neil anymore than i already do
best friends ❤️
-
jean tearing up and throwing away the notebooks and realising he trusts the trojans and the four of them going to eat one of cats new recipes after they waited up last midnight for him
A COOL EVENING BREEZE RAINBOWS OPEN ROADS AND FRIENDS
!!!!!
I CSNT BELIEVE ITS OVERRRRR I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS HOLY FUCK
#aftg#all for the game#tsc#tsc spoilers#the sunshine court#jean moreau#jerejean#jeremy knox#catalina alvarez#laila dermott#neil josten#david wymack#stuart hatford#nora sakavic
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📖"Temporary Custody"
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky
Word Count: 4861
Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange
Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.
Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.
Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost
10. S'mores
It’s the “sex play” (God, that term is so cringe) thing being on the table that builds the tension in the apartment, all of them knowing about it but none of them talking about it. Mary sure as shit doesn’t have the guts to break that ice, and now Bucky’s always deep in thought and quiet around her. And Steve, well.
Steve is like a big, mopey golden retriever who knows its humans are upset but doesn’t know how to help besides headbutting things affectionately.
Mary’s feelings for him only grow when she realizes that he really hasn’t told Bucky about that night in the kitchen: the things she’d confided about the razor and her nightmares and sneaking out to the gym. Knowing that Steve’s stuck by his word like that makes her like him and trust him a whole heck of a lot more.
But it doesn’t solve the underlying problem.
There’s a court hearing in front of a judge next month to revisit the custody arrangement—Next month. And one afternoon while Bucky’s out of the apartment, Steve gently informs Mary that Dr. Linda is recommending the order be extended. Jesus fucking Christ.
And then the results to that test Linda made her take, the “Submissive Sexual Interests and Tendencies Assessment”, arrive in the mail (addressed to Bucky, because of course they would be), and Mary gets her hands on them after Bucky and Steve read them, and she’s mortified at what it says about her.
Tendencies: Passive aggression (reactive aggression in lieu of submission), emotional outbursts, low self-esteem, impulsive sexual promiscuity, self-harm, alcohol use disorder, possible co-morbidity (OCD, EDNOS, BDD).
Dynamic Preferences: single dominant authority figure, structured domestic routine, service, discipline, monogamous relationship, emotional bonding.
Recommendations: Following assessment review, patient is most likely to benefit from continued domestic control in a consistent (24/7) environment. Transfer of custody not recommended. Continued therapy sessions and educational courses at CDP highly recommended. Most beneficial therapeutic modalities include limited corporal discipline, sex play, and reward-based service routine.
There’s a ton of infuriating psycho babble bullshit packed into those results that she could get upset about, and she does, but Mary’s eyes track over that one, most-horrible phrase over and over again:
“Transfer of custody not recommended.”
Fuck.
She loses sleep over it, sneaks out of the apartment in the middle of the night and does cardio at the gym until she’s exhausted enough to head back home and pass out. It pisses her off that this is such a thing now. She doesn’t want to be special needs, she should have the right to choose whether she even wants treatment or not! She resents the hell out of Bucky and Steve for having custody of her the way that they do. They’re clearly expecting her to blow up or something, after the news from Linda and the SSITA results come in. It’s so obvious that they’re walking on eggshells around her, Mary halfway wishes they’d just do something. One way or the other, it’d be better than this.
Linda claims that they’ve expressed “positive feelings” about a sexual dynamic, but if they have, they sure aren’t expressing it to Mary. She suspects that most of that positivity has come from Steve, and probably only because he’s a golden retriever in human form who just wants to do what’s right and good, not because he or Bucky are particularly attracted to her.
While she has managed to clean herself up quite a bit since moving in with them, Mary isn’t delusional: she realizes that Steve and Bucky are very attractive men, whereas she’s just average. She tries to tell herself she’s fine with that. She knows Bucky and Steve could probably get like, a supermodel to sleep with them if they really wanted to. Mary’s not in their league, and that’s okay.
But if they’re not attracted to her that way then they should at least have the decency to just say so! At least then she could find someone else, get back on Tinder, or even sign up for one of those ProDoms that the CDP has. Darcy said Thor was good, so maybe Mary could request him? The way that Darcy had described the guy, he sounds like he's a hunka hunka burning Nordic god. Mary could go for that.
She brings it up casually over dinner, framing it lightheartedly, and Bucky literally crushes his water glass in his prosthetic hand. “What?” he snaps, frowning down at the mess he’s just made. “No.”
Mary huffs and goes to fetch the desserts while Steve gets the waste bin and begins scraping the broken pieces of glass into it like it’s just another Tuesday. “I don’t see why not,” Mary complains from over at the counter. She’s pulled the plates out from the fridge and grabs the butane torch for the meringue.
“Jesus,” Bucky exclaims when he sees the industrial sized torch she's wielding. “Where’d you get that?”
Mary purses her lips as she focuses on achieving the perfect amount of toastedness. “Hardware store,” she mutters. “So why can’t I go see one of the ProDom’s again?” She purposefully over-torches Bucky’s meringue, because she can tell that this isn’t going to go her way. “Sounds like a win-win. You don’t have to deal with me, I can meet new people, and insurance pays for it. What exactly is the problem?” She’s trying to force him to admit that he doesn’t want to Dom her sexually, trying to get him to see that something’s gotta give and he’ll have to let her use one of the ProDoms eventually if that’s what the severity of her “condition” requires (gigantic ‘Ew’).
But frustratingly, he refuses to engage with her on the topic. “It’s a no, Mare,” he tells her sternly. “Pros are for people who have more experience. You don’t.”
Mary seriously doubts that. “Linda didn’t say that,” she argues, carrying the plates over to the table and handing the nice one to Steve and the burnt one to Bucky.
He pulls it closer to himself and raises an eyebrow at it. “Linda’s being diplomatic,” he mutters. “I thought you said you were making s’mores?”
Yesterday, Bucky had been talking with Steve about how much they both missed their old camping trips they used to take. The two of them must’ve waxed poetic over campfire s’mores for ten whole minutes. So Mary thought this would be an excellent way to butter them up. Apparently not.
She sniffs and picks up her fork. “They are s’mores. It’s a plated dessert, Bucky. An interpretation. It’s not literal.”
He grunts and peers at his portion, poking it dubiously with his fork. “What’s it made of?”
Mary heaves a sigh and snottily recites: “Honey Sablé, 70% Valrhona cremeux, cold-smoked Italian meringue, torched ‘mallow, Graham crumb streusel, and tempered chocolate stick for garnish." Both Bucky and Steve stop poking at their plates and just stare at her for a second.
“Sounds good,” Steve chirps, and digs into his.
Mary stares Bucky down, until he too, deigns to eat the apparently too fancy for him version of a s’more. “Oh, damn,” he says after the first bite, looking taken-aback. “I can taste the smoke.”
Mary preens, then asks again about the ProDom. “Well if I’m not getting it there then who the heck’s supposed to fuck me?” she winds up blurting out of frustration.
When that direct reference doesn’t elicit any response from Bucky besides a barrage of bossy instructions for after-dinner cleanup, Mary loses a bit of the hope she’d been holding onto that maybe Linda was right about them being attracted to her. She just gave him the perfect fucking opening, and he didn’t take it. She gets the kitchen cleaned up from dinner, resigning herself to another evening of platonic domination that doesn’t quite hit the spot.
Nightly drops are nice. Not as nice as they were in the beginning, the effects having waned quite a bit from what they once were, but still better than no drops at all.
Mary sits on her pillow on the floor, head on the couch cushion next to Bucky’s thigh, listening vaguely to the sound of the television while she enjoys the feeling of his fingers carding through her hair, lightly massaging her scalp. It’s been a while now, and she doesn’t think she’s going to get any deeper. It’s late, already they’ve watched two full episodes of their show, and Mary’s got work tomorrow. It’ll be bedtime soon.
A big yawn works its way up in her throat, and Bucky chuckles when it finally breaks free. “Tired?” he asks.
“Mmhm.” She inhales deeply and sits up, sleepy and squinting. It takes a moment before her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and Bucky’s form sitting right in front of her. Wow, she’d been really close to him, hadn’t realized just how close. Had she been … hugging his shin? God, she hopes not. Not like she hasn’t spent whole evenings fantasizing about rubbing her face all over his thighs and his— Nope. Not gonna think about that when he’s sitting right there. She tears her eyes away and forces that train of thought to stop right in its metaphorical tracks.
“You good, Hon?” Bucky asks, his soft voice drawing her attention back from her own head. She looks up and sees his fond expression, his relaxed posture. Wonders if he’s in Domspace at all. Probably not.
Then her eyes land on the line of his cock at the front of his pants.
He’s hard. Not very, but some. Underneath his sweats his dick is chubbed up enough that it creates a slight bulge against the fabric. Mary freezes, staring for too long before she’s able to tear her eyes away. When she does, and she looks up, Bucky’s watching her with an inscrutable expression. Her breath catches and her mind goes absolutely dumb.
Does he want ..? Should she ..?
She looks back down at it, at the relaxed splay of his thighs. She wets her lips and thinks about reaching forward and sliding her hand over it, what it would feel like, if it would twitch, if Bucky would shiver or make a sound. She wants to touch it, and seriously considers doing so, but when she looks up at Bucky again, he doesn’t look like he’s excited, or anticipating her touching him. He looks … resigned.
“Tired?” he asks kindly. "Do you maybe ... Do you need anything else tonight? From me?"
Mary's lips part, heart leaping at what that might mean ... but then Bucky looks over at Steve with visible yearning in his eyes, and the two of them share one of their silent conversations, brows pinched and expectant.
Oh. Right. Bucky’s just horny and eager to get Steve into bed, wants to wrap this up. Mary wonders if he really can’t tell that she's not far down like she used to get. Maybe he thinks this is all she needs and he really isn’t going to take Linda’s advice seriously. Mary should be happy about that. After all, it’s what she wanted. Isn’t it?
She balls up the hand that she’d been imagining touching Bucky with and nods. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, I’m tired. Think I’m gonna … go get ready for bed.”
She glances over at Steve, but he looks mopey and eager to get out of the room just like his husband does, cementing the notion in Mary’s mind that they don’t want to be with her that way. No doubt they will if push comes to shove, because Linda’s told them Mary needs a sexual dynamic, but it’s not something they’re excited about. Mary knows men: They’re not the sort to sit around and wait for a girl they like to make the first move. And certainly not a man like Bucky, of all people.
She tries not to be hurt by it, but still gets a little weepy while brushing her teeth, the unintended rejection stinging more when she’s down in the tingly, vulnerable throes of subspace. She spits, rinses, flosses, rinses. Grabs the mouthwash that she hates to use but that Bucky has ordered her to always use after brushing her teeth at night.
She says goodnight to Steve and Bucky through the safety of her closed bedroom door, and despite her voice being warbly, neither one of them knocks on the door to see what’s up. That drives the point home, and Mary tucks herself into bed with the mindset that she’ll let them know they don’t have to sleep with her just to be nice or to help her or whatever. She’ll just find a way to convince them that she really is fine with going to one of the ProDoms, and that it really is a better arrangement.
Better than a pity fuck, at least.
It’s disappointing to know that Mary prefers the ProDom, that she doesn’t want to make their relationship sexual, but Bucky gets it, and he knows that he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s not exactly an easy person to get along with, after all. He’s prickly as fuck, grumpy, bossy, selfish. And aside from her natural submission, Mary’s personality clashes with his horribly. Steve is essential, but he just isn’t enough to successfully buffer between the two of them—not enough to make her want them that way, at least.
Bucky can see the profound disappointment in Steve’s eyes that night, as Mary doesn’t react the way they were both hoping, doesn’t take the offerings Bucky puts out.
They have to let it be her choice, of course, having planned it out and discussed it between just the two of them. It's all anybody ever talks about in the D/s community these days: making sure subs are the initiators at key moments like this, not letting domination creep in and become manipulation-so easy to do with how naturally vulnerable and people pleasing submissives are. Gone are the days when Doms like Bucky were encouraged to guide new partners in the "right" direction. That leads to too much trauma, too many subs in situations they don't really want. Mary has to be left to make the choice on her own, it's her right.
But it's still the hardest fucking thing for him to do, to just sit there and wait passively. And it still stings when she looks straight at his erection and declares that she’s ready for bed. Well, if it wasn’t clear before.
Steve looks like a friggin’ kicked puppy, as he stands outside of Mary’s closed bedroom door and bids her goodnight. Bucky nudges him in the direction of their own room and murmurs, “Come on, Sweetheart.”
In their bedroom, they each get undressed. Steve continues to mope, so Bucky goes up to him and places a hand on his shoulder and rubs. “Hey. Don’t sulk. You’ve still got me.” Steve’s mouth twitches in a small smile and Bucky’s heart flares with fondness for him. “You wanna play a game?” he offers, leaning in and kissing him once on the lips. “Mm?” He looks down pointedly to both of their boners that haven’t completely lagged since tv time ended.
“Okay.”
Bucky hums and turns, putting his left shoulder out. “Lend a guy a hand?” Steve obliges. He removes the prosthetic arm with practiced motions. Bucky moans quietly at how good it feels to get the heavy weight off. “Fuck.” He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck each way with a blissed out groan. “Yes.”
“You’ve been wearing it more than usual, lately,” Steve points out, going over to set it on the table at Bucky’s side of the bed. “Why?”
He already knows: Bucky can tell from the way he asks it. He grunts and looks away, refraining from answering. He normally only wears the arm to work and to the gym, skipping it around the house or when he’s just got simple errands to run. There’s a surprising amount he can do just fine without the use of two arms, and he’s been confident about being seen in public without it for a long time now, thanks to Steve and their friends at the V.A. Being self conscious about it again after all these years isn’t something Bucky wants to admit out loud or think about, but Steve isn’t stupid. He can put two and two together.
“Babe,” he says softly, walking back over to stand behind him. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and noses into his neck. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Bucky inhales deeply. “I know. I’m not.” Steve makes a sound that clearly says he doesn’t believe that. But Bucky doesn’t want to talk about it, so he reaches back with the only arm he has to grab playfully at the side of Steve’s ass. “Go in the bathroom. Get the water going how I like.”
Steve groans and thunks his forehead against the back of Bucky’s neck. “Not that game,” he complains, though there’s no conviction to it. He slinks off towards the bathroom to go do as he’s been told. “I hate that game.”
“Fuck you. You love that game.”
Steve shoots him the finger from over his shoulder, but something about his naked body and tight little ass being on display strips the gesture of its animosity. He disappears into the bathroom and Bucky walks over to their bedroom dresser to grab a hair tie, still snickering. He sobers when he takes one from the valet tray and realizes that he’ll have to have Steve tie his hair back. That’s one thing he never could figure out how to do one handed. He stands there and looks in the mirror above the dresser, studying the left side of his body in a way that he rarely does anymore.
He’s gotten so used to it: his life with Steve, whom he knows down to his bones accepts him unconditionally. He’s almost forgotten what it feels like to be self conscious about his body. Bucky hasn’t known how to talk about it, and Mary hasn’t asked. She’s seen him with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, or in tee shirts at the gym, but that’s all so far. Sometimes he’ll catch her looking, but he’s got no clue what she’s thinking. He considers his reflection, looks at the scars and puckered skin, the implanted base of the arm where his stump used to be. He doesn’t like the uncomfortability of being critical of his body again. In a way, he almost resents Mary for it, for making that feeling come back after all these years. Silly, he knows.
“Babe?” Steve’s voice calls out from the bathroom. Bucky’s ears register the sound of rushing water. “You coming?”
Bucky inhales deeply and decides it doesn’t matter anyway. Mary wants a ProDom, not them, so he doesn’t have to stress over what she thinks about any part of his body, let alone the one part he doesn’t have.
“Yeah.” He turns his back to the judgmental mirror and heads towards his very non-judgmental best guy.
“Okay. Stop clenching.”
Steve exhales shakily, but he does obey, body slumping back against the end of the tub as he relaxes his muscles. “Fuck,” he breathes, overwhelmed.
“Hand too, Baby.”
His hand abandons his dick in the bathwater. “Ungh.”
Bucky smiles lazily and rubs the side of his foot against Steve’s hip in praise. “Good boy.”
They’re in the bathtub together, opposite ends, legs tangled. Their combined bulk displaces the water all the way up to above their shoulders, but that’s part of the game: they’re not allowed to splash on the floor, so they can’t jerk off very hard or fast. First one to splash water on the floor is the automatic loser and has to bottom the next time they fuck (Bucky added that little caveat because he’s very good at not splashing, whereas Steve is hopelessly clumsy and overeager ). “How you doing, Sweetheart?” he asks, drinking in the sight of Steve with his lips parted, chest heaving, squirming. He’s pink from temple to tits, flushed from the bathwater and arousal both, and Bucky loves it. “You’re not close already, are you?” he tuts, grinning. “So sensitive.”
“Buck,” Steve croaks, heated eyes dragging over Bucky’s body at the other end of the tub where he’s still gently jerking himself off. “Please.”
Bucky affords himself another toe-curlingly good swipe over the head of his dick before he nods. “Okay. Slow. Just like me”
Steve huffs and wraps his hand back around himself, stroking his dick in slow, measured strokes, just like Bucky said. Bucky’s guts warm and another heady rush of dominance swirls low in his belly at watching Steve do exactly as he says. “You can start workin’ it again, too,” he says.
Steve moans gratefully. “Thank you. Fuck.” His abs start clenching, his body straining again with visible tension as he works the Aneros that’s seated up inside him. Under the water, his knees move in and out in that instinctive motion as he tries to rock it just right. But it’s hard to do it with the water so high, and more than once he catches himself and holds back at the sight of the bathwater sloshing precariously close to the lip of the tub. At one point he gasps and his eyes slam shut, and Bucky figures the toy must’ve shifted to press even more directly against his prostate.
“Ooh, does that feel good, Stevie?”
Steve peeks his eyes open, glaring across the way at him. “You know it does.”
Bucky does, in fact, know exactly how good it feels—because he’s got another of the exact same toy inside of himself, right now. “I don’t know why you still agree to play this game,” he taunts, grunting from the effort of holding back his own moan as his prostate gets a firm prod from the head of the toy. “You—nngh—you always wind up losing.”
“Yeah, well …” Steve’s throat bobs as he swallows heavily. “Maybe I don’t mind you coming out on top, sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” Bucky scoffs, but he’s breathing heavier than he was thirty minutes ago, his composure slipping the longer he works the toy inside himself and jerks himself off agonizingly slowly underneath the water. In fact, he’s not even sure it even counts as jerking off at this slow a pace.
Edging is something he’d introduced Steve to early on in their relationship, as soon as he’d realized how delightfully sensitive his new boyfriend was. And Steve, the big idiot, had worried Bucky wouldn’t like it, had actually thought of it as a negative! An absurd notion that Bucky promptly disabused him of. Watching his ungodly sexy blond behemoth of a husband whine and squirm and struggle to hold himself in check is one of the fucking hottest things Bucky’s ever seen—and he’s seen a lot. He’d been a bit of a manwhore back in his heyday, racking up the bodies as he fought to find himself as a Dom and accept the body an IED had left him with.
Steve, his overly-sensitive, glorious hunk of a then-boyfriend, had helped him to do both. And it’s times like this where Bucky remembers just how goddamn lucky he is. Having Steve to love and fuck around with feels like the best gift in the world.
At the other end of the tub, the water sloshes as something he’s done to himself makes Steve’s breath hitch in another helpless moan. He tosses his head back for a moment, eyes clamped shut as his expression crumples beautifully and he whimpers. Bucky’s ass clenches down hard in arousal at the sight, which only makes the toy in his ass rub over his prostate that much better. His cock throbs as his pleasure flares dangerously high. Fuck, he wants to come.
Licking his lips, he decides it's time to end this. His balls are pulled up too close to his body, taut and full and aching for release. Trying to school his breathing into something resembling nonchalance is a lost cause, and his face feels almost as flushed as Steve’s looks right now. Bucky decides to call it, because even though he’s the automatic favorite to win this game every time, he is capable of losing, if he gets too caught up in ogling Steve’s body and reactions and doesn’t focus enough on playing his cards right. “Okay,” he finally says, smirking when Steve’s head jerks back to attention, his irises visibly flaring in excitement. “Yeah, Baby. It’s time.”
“Fuck.”
“You ready for the home stretch?” He waggles his eyebrows and lets his head rest back against the tub, spreading his legs wider and keeping his eyes on Steve. “Gotta keep up,” he instructs, even though Steve already knows how this goes. When Bucky tightens his hand and speeds up the pace of how fast he’s jerking himself off, Steve copies him. That’s how it is at the end of this—totally-rigged-in-Bucky’s-favor—game. They both jerk off at the pace that Bucky sets, and the first one to splash water on the floor or come is the loser. It’s not very fair, but Bucky never claimed he was a fair guy. He is, in fact, selfish as fuck.
Lucky for him, Steve’s into that.
“Fuck,” Steve pants from his end of the tub. He slides down lower, keeping more of his body under the water in an attempt to prevent splashing. It’s a futile effort, though, because he’s doomed to lose anyway with the faster pace that Bucky’s set. Already, he’s going lobster red in the face, brow pinched and desperate, knees knocking the sides of the tub as he compulsively works the toy in his ass.
The arousal in Bucky’s gut coils tighter at the sight. “Watch my hand,” he warns, when he notices Steve slacking off. “Gotta match it, Baby.”
“I am.”
“Tighter,” he says, eyes gleaming. “And stop avoiding the head. I can see you cheatin’ over there, Punk.”
Steve whimpers, and Bucky knows that he really wasn’t going as tight as he is, because Steve’s hand changes its hold and he starts getting the head of his dick with the same intensity that Bucky is. Bucky grins open mouthed, panting. “Atta boy.”
“You should—ugn.” Steve grimaces. “Should get a penalty, for being cut. I should get an extra, nnnh, th-thirty seconds, at least.”
Bucky laughs, because trust Steve to think of a sportsman’s solution to the inequity of their dicks. Steve being uncut means that it takes less intense stimulation for him to come. They both know this, Bucky loves this, and again: he never claimed the game was fair. “No penalty,” he grunts, speeding up his pace even further. Steve’s eyes widen but he matches it. Bucky grits his teeth. He can hold out long enough. Steve’ll blow in seconds at this pace.
And sure enough, it’s not even twenty seconds later when Steve is crying out, body tensing and muscles straining gorgeously as he seizes up and starts to come. “Agh!” His knees fling out hard and hit the sides of the tub, splashing water over the lip to the floor below. But he hasn’t even noticed, he’s so lost to his orgasm. His asshole is twitching, sucking on the Aneros as the contractions of his body pull the toy up against his prostate again and again, drawing the pleasure out. He shoves down hard in the water and shouts louder, as though he’s getting a second orgasm on top of the first. “Ohnfuck …”
Bucky groans as he watches it happen: Steve’s gorgeous face and juddering hips, big hand wringing up hard underneath the head the whole way through. The fucking sounds he makes, Jesus wept. It’s leagues better than any porn Bucky’s ever seen. “Fuck, Baby,” he praises. “Yes. Fuck that’s so hot …”
Steve’s hand keeps working the whole way through, only abandoning his cock once it’s fully spent and softening, the cloudy ribbons of his cum floating away in the bathwater. “Fuck,” he exhales hugely once it’s done, letting his body go lax and slump so far down that only his face is above the waterline.
Bucky grunts and spreads his legs wider, not heeding the splashing rule now that he’s already won. The water splashes precariously as he shoves his hips down and down and down, squeezing the shape of the toy inside so fucking perfectly. Fuck, it feels fucking good working over his spot like that. “Oghnnn,” he pants, grunting and groaning and jerking his cock hard. “Fuck, Baby. You’re so fucking pretty. Fuck. M’gonna cum …”
Steve gives a sated hum from his end of the tub. Bucky can sense him shifting in the water, and then gasps when he feels the ball of Steve’s foot gently press up on his balls. His eyes fly open and he looks down. “Oh, shit,” he whispers. “Fuck, fuck.”
Steve grins and rubs his foot against him. And Bucky doesn’t have that fetish, but there’s something so fucking perverse about seeing Steve’s toes up against his balls that it turns his brain to mush anyway and pushes him right on over into orgasm. He shoots off beneath the water, stroking and thrusting and moaning—and probably splashing water all over the floor just as badly as Steve ever has.
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#marvel#mcu#bucky barnes#stucky#steve rogers#fanfiction#steve rogers x bucky barnes#fanfic#m/m/f#m/f/m#stucky x ofc#steve rogers x ofc#bucky barnes x ofc#stucky smut#d/s au#d/s dynamic#d/s relationship#dom/sub#dom bucky barnes#hurt/comfort#hate to love#enemies to lovers#romantic tension#bingo fills#bingos n bangs#my bingo fills#marvel smash bingo#ultimate chris bingo#sebastian stan bingo
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You feel a chill down your spine, the hairs at the back of your neck prickle. You don't dare look behind you... The shadow smiles.
The Night That Feeds is a dark fantasy, interactive story. It will have heavy themes of familial abuse, sexually suggestive themes (perhaps more explicit stuff too, eventually), and other dark themes. A comprehensive content warning will be made available as the story develops.
"This is a story of love, loss, and of trying to find a home".
*** Please keep your mental health in mind when playing games with dark themes. This game won't be as dark as some others, but I want everyone to be safe and healthy when consuming dark content.
Demo currently sitting at 21k words.
✧ Features/Will feature ✧
A customizable protagonist, name, gender, appearance.
Multiple romance options (barely implemented at this time).
Demons! Not in the way you may think.
An interesting fantasy land that you get to explore.
!!BARELY IMPLEMENTED--MOST CHARACTERS NOT MET!!
・❥・ Romance Options ・❥・
✧.*
Captain E. Ward: Fame, fortune, infamy... All these and more follow Captain Ward. Their job is a demanding one, an important one, a dangerous one. They seem to be a commanding, playful person, but how deep do their scars run?
Age: 30
["Isn't it beautiful?" They say as they stare out into the void. Nebulous clouds drift behind, trailing the ship. "So Void-damned beautiful, and so fucked up." They look you in the eyes, and lick the edge of their bottom lip. "You sure you want this, with me?"]
They are a lonely person, they crave, and despise attention. They're afraid of intimacy, of love. What kind of life is a life in the Void? Who would willingly share that with them?
TW: Attempted murder (on them), clinginess.
✧.*
Maddock: A surly mercenary, he watches out for you, all due to a 'favor' of a nature you can't discern. The way he looks at you is reminiscent of a deep longing.
Age: Late 30's, early 40's
["I never thought that I'd be one ta' have somethin' like this at my age. I let my dreams go in my youth." He pats the cushion next to him. "You don' expect things ta' turn out, I've been a merc for so long, felt like all I knew how ta' do."]
He's a gruff man, doesn't got a heart of gold, but if you end up falling for each other, there isn't anything that would come between you.
TW: Possessive, sexual.
✧.*
The Hunger: It's been watching you for a long time...
Age: ???
["Oh, if it isn't my little bird, what is it? Is your wing broken? You don't seem eager to fly away this time..." It slinks closer, grinning wide. ]
An entity, not... malevolent, at least not to you. However, it holds a sick fascination for you.
TW: Yandereish. Stalker. Obsession.
✧.*
Fellis: A woman who seems to be around your age, she's an eager adventurer, she took a liking to you immediately, and seems keen to stoke the flames hotter.
Age: 22, 23
["Oh, lovey. There you are." She takes your hand in hers, placing a gentle kiss along your knuckle. "I've brought something for you."]
She thinks you're the most beautiful person she's seen. She may even take up poetry to describe her budding love for you.
NO TW. MEGA FLUFF ALERT.
✧.*
Xep: A strange person, wearing bright crimson robes, with gorgeous star decaling in gold. They wear copious amounts of jewelry, and enjoy the finer things. They were immediately drawn to you, they were forced to this back water of a town, they never expected anyone like you to cross their path.
Age: 27
["I want to hold you, please stay?" Their mouth creeps upwards, the wine has given them a positively radiant complexion, the heat blatant on their cheeks.]
They're a sad soul, after experiencing a heart break that left them devastated, they never expected to find love again.
SLIGHT TW: Mentions of suicide, heart break, mentions of being cheated on.
Credit to: nyehilism for the sugarcube template, you've made things easier on me as an aspiring IF writer, thank you.
#interactive fiction#dark fantasy#romance#my ocs#original world#interactive novel#tntf#the night that feeds
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In short: Wolfstar And They Were Roommates Coffee Shop AU Idiots in Love
Marlene meets Remus, who's looking for a new place to live, as he can't deal with his feelings for his roommate anymore. So when Marlene’s coworker Sirius tells her that his roommate is moving out, it seems like a good idea to bring him into contact with Remus. Marlene may have missed something, though.
And They Were/Are/Will Be Roommates
Remus had been nervous for this moment. He’s usually not very good at talking to strangers, but he knows that if he wants to be considered for the room, he’s going to have to get along with the other tenants. Remus had responded to an add from the girls living in the house, looking for a new roommate now that one of them has moved in with her boyfriend. Miraculously, they’ve invited Remus over for an initial meeting.
His nerves only increased when he saw the girls.
They’re the cool, confident kind of girls whom Remus would’ve admired from afar, but never would’ve dared to talk to. The redhead with her captivating emerald eyes, the tall blond with her edgy style, the petit brunette with her feisty attitude. It triggered a lot of Remus’ old insecurities. He was half expecting these beautiful girls to laugh in his face upon realizing this awkward, weird guy thought he could be their new roommate.
But to his surprise, they seem to be hitting it off.
The conversation flows easily, and before Remus knows it, they’re all talking animatedly. Remus is drawn to Lily’s kindness, Marlene’s sarcasm, and Mary’s cheerful energy. They, in return, seem to appreciate Remus’ dry wit. They chat about their degrees, jobs, hometowns, favourite books, and whatnot.
“So, Remus,” Marlene says at some point. “Why are you actually looking for a new place to live?”
“Oh, it’s just...” Remus averts his eyes and shrugs. “Roommate issues.”
Mary scrunches up her nose. “Bad roommates are the worst. What do they do? Leave their dishes in the sink?”
“Sing in the shower?”
“Leave their hair in the drain?”
“Or dirty socks in the living room?”
“Play loud music late at night?”
“Let you do all the cooking?”
“Leave mouldy food in the fridge?”
“Sneak into your room late at night and watch you sleep?”
“What? No! No, none of that.” Remus runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, yeah, he does sing in the shower, but I kinda really like that about him? He sounds so happy and carefree when he’s singing just for himself. We actually put on this terribly corny music while doing the dishes together, and sing along really loudly. It almost makes doing the dishes the best part of the day! True, he’s not the best cook, so I usually take it up, but he’ll make me my favourite tea every morning, exactly the way I like it. And on Sunday, he’ll get up early to go to the bakery and get me fresh cinnamon buns for breakfast. He’s just so kind, and he always knows how to make me smile, and that’s... Well, and that’s just the fucking problem, innit?” Remus let’s out a deep sigh. “You see, I’ve gone and fallen head over heels in love with him.”
Mary looks thoughtful. “So the problem actually is that he doesn’t sneak into your room late at night?”
Remus chuckles, but then shakes his head. “I’ve never been very good at self-care, but I can’t keep living in the same apartment as him, being around him all the time, while he’s just there being this stupidly amazing person.”
Lily gives him a sympathetic smile. “That does sound like a mental health liability.”
The girls exchange a look. Then turn back to Remus.
“Shite, we were hoping you’d be an arse,” Mary sighs.
“You see,” Marlene says. “This girl we know, Dorcas, she’s just gotten out of an abusive relationship, and she’ll be kicked out on the street. She has nowhere to go, so we have actually just decided she can have the room...”
“We’re very sorry,” Lily adds.
“Not at all!” Remus quickly says. “I understand. Sounds like she needs it more than me.”
“We do really like you,” Mary assures him. “We totally should hang out again!”
“Yes,” Lily agrees. “We may not be able to give you a new place to live, but we can give you new friendships!” She cringes. “Oh god, did that sound as lame to you as it did to me?”
Remus laughs. “It kinda did, but I agree! It would be great if we ‘can still be friends’.”
Marlene snorts, but then she notices the time. “Oh shite.” She jumps to her feet. “It’s that late already? I’ve got to go! I said I’d jump in with the midday shift. It was lovely to meet you, Remus. I’ll keep an eye out for anyone having a room available. And of course, I hope to see you again soon,” she says, while already rushing out the door.
“It is indeed later than I thought,” Lily says, turning to Remus. “Would you like to stay for lunch, or is your roommate expecting you?”
“No, he’s at work,” Remus replies. “So I’d love to stay!”
“And how’d you like your coffee?”
Sirius’ voice sounds flat, monotone.
The customer leans on the counter. “I’d like it hot, please.” He eyes Sirius up and down. “Quite like my barista.”
“One hot coffee coming up,” Sirius says, giving no reaction to the customer’s obvious flirting, his face an impassive mask.
Sirius makes the coffee like a robot. “Here you go.” He sounds like a robot too. “Would you like anything to eat with that?”
“No thank you, darling. The eye-candy is more than enough for me.”
“That’ll be one pound seventy-five, please.”
The customer blinks. He pays, and walks away, looking rather dejected.
“Sirius!” Marlene hisses, dragging Sirius to the side as the lunch rush dies down a little. “Even if you’re not into it, can you at least be kind to the customers flirting with you? You know that eighty percent of our tip jar depends on you being cute!”
“I’m sorry, Marls,” Sirius sighs. “I’m just... really not feeling it today.”
Marlene eyes him. “What is with you?
“It’s my roommate,” Sirius mumbles, looking at the floor.
“Ah,” Marlene sits down on the counter. “Another instalment of Pining Sirius and the Cute Roommate. How did he turn your brain into mush this time? Sweaterpaws? Giggling the whole time while trying to tell a joke? Biting his lip while thinking? Ranting about his favourite book for an hour? Wearing your jacket?”
“He’s moving out.”
“Shite.”
“Shite, indeed,” Sirius wholeheartedly agrees.
“Are you gonna be in trouble with rent?” Marlene asks, concerned. “You know that Alice just moved in with Frank, and we’ve actually been interviewing potential new roommates. There were some great people that we couldn’t pick. I can give you their contact information so you can-”
“Rent’s fine,” Sirius interrupts. “It’s just... I really liked living with him, y’know?”
“Yeah,” Marlene says softly. “I know.”
“I know we’re only roommates,” Sirius says. “And it was always going to be temporary, but... Fuck, Marlene. He just felt like home.”
“Do you know why he’s moving out?” Marlene asks.
Sirius shakes his head. “He won’t tell me. Which just confirms my suspicion that it must be something I did.”
A customer just walked up to the counter. “Excuse me, you’ve made my coffee wrong, it’s-”
Sirius puts his head in his hands and exclaims “Why do I always have to ruin everything?”
The customer gives a start. “I mean, it’s not that bad. I just... never tasted coffee with salt instead of sugar before. It’s... an acquired taste, that’s all.” He puts five pounds into the tip jar before slowly backing away.
Marlene makes a mental note that she should really remember that for next time a customer comes to complain, before she grabs Sirius’ arm and drags him to the back. She sits Sirius down on a chair and notices to her horror there are tears glistening in his eyes.
“None of this!” Marlene says firmly, placing her hands on her hips. “You listen to me. If he doesn’t tell you what the fuck his problem is, then it’s nothing you can fix, and then it’s not your fucking fault! Besides, you are much too cute to be crying over some guy.”
Sirius gives her a weak smile, that looks all but convincing.
Marlene pinches the bridge of her nose. “You know what, no. I’m not going to let you wallow in self-pity, so here’s what were going to do. The girls and I just interviewed this super nice guy today. Unfortunately, our free room had just been taken, but that’s good news for you! He can be your new roommate, and help you get over the old roommate. Sirius, this guy is super cute, like, you won’t believe.”
Sirius doesn’t look very enthusiastic. “I highly doubt a new roommate who isn’t him is going to help me much, no matter how cute he is. But I suppose I am going to need someone to chip in with the rent, so I might as well give your guy a chance.”
“I’ll set up a meeting,” Marlene promises, before pulling Sirius into a hug. “I know it sucks right now, but you’ll be okay.”
A few days later, Marlene has the closing shift together with Sirius, and after they’ve locked up the coffee shop, they go to Marlene’s place together. Mary’s got a date, and Lily will be in the library studying until late, so Marlene has invited Remus over to meet Sirius.
Sirius is still down and uncharacteristically quiet. From what Marlene has heard, things have been rough between Sirius and his roommate these last few days. His roommate hasn’t found a new place yet, but while still living with Sirius, he seems to be trying to avoid him. It hurts Sirius, and the atmosphere between them has gotten tense.
Looking at Sirius now, Marlene starts to doubt whether this was such a good idea. She was hoping Sirius and Remus would distract each other from their love-sickness, and find support in each other as fellow-sufferers, but now she fears they’ll just bring each other down to wallow in their shared misery. She really hopes she’s not accidentally creating the most depressing household ever.
“He should be here soon,” Marlene says, once she has sat Sirius down on the couch with a drink.
“Mmm,” is Sirius’ only response.
“Could you... try to look a little pleased to meet him once he gets here?”
Before Sirius can answer her though, the doorbell rings.
“Ah, there he is. Be friendly,” Marlene reminds Sirius, before walking into the hallway to open the door.
“Hi! Glad you could make it!”
“Of course,” Remus smiles. “I’m glad you thought about me.” He sighs, and Marlene notices that he looks tired, like he’s had a rough few days. “I really do need to get out of that apartment.”
“Well, come on!” Marlene says, taking his arm and dragging him towards the living room, where Sirius gets to his feet the moment they enter.
“So this is him,” Marlene tells Remus. “The guy who needs a new roommate, as his current one will be moving out. He’s been pining after that guy long enough anyhow, so I’d say time to move on,” she adds with a chuckle. Then she turns to Sirius, who’s staring at Remus wide-eyed. “And this is the guy I’ve been telling you about! The one who needs a new place to live, because he might have accidentally caught feelings for his current roommate, and it’s starting to mess with his head.”
“Sirius!”
“Remus?”
“You two know each other?”
“Yeah,” Sirius says slowly, not taking his eyes off Remus. “He’s my roommate.”
“Well, that was decided quickly! I thought you would’ve needed some more time to get to know each other and-”
“No,” Sirius interrupts. “He’s my current roommate.”
“Oh. Oh.” Marlene looks from Sirius to Remus and back. “Please tell me you don’t have a third roommate you’re now finding out you’re both desperately in love with?”
“No,” Sirius says slowly, still only looking at Remus. “It’s just the two of us.”
“You’re in love with me,” Remus suddenly says.
“You’re in love with me,” Sirius says.
“You’re in love with each other!” Marlene says, clapping her hands in delight. “This is perfect! You were both pining! After each other! And now you can stop! And even better, now no one has to move! Let’s be honest, moving is the worst. Really, it seems like you’re-” She looks at Sirius and Remus again. “-like you’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”
Sirius and Remus are looking at each intently, their gazes locked, Remus’ mouth slightly opened, Sirius’ pupils blown wide.
“I... should probably give you a moment,” Marlene says, slowly moving back towards the door. Right before she closes the door, she sees how they practically pounce at each other, Remus wrapping his arms around Sirius’ neck, Sirius wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist, their bodies pressed flush against each other, and their lips crashing together, which they’ve probably both been waiting a very long time to do.
“And as it turned out, they were roommates!” Marlene concludes the story, before pouring herself another glass.
She and Mary are sitting on the couch drinking wine, while Marlene has been recounting the whole story.
Mary gasps. “Oh my god, they were roommates!”
#my tumblr writing#wolfstar#wolfstar fanfiction#wolfstar fic#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#sirius black#remus lupin#remus x sirius#marlene mckinnon#roommates#coffee shop au#idiots in love
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Came across this YouTube video last night.. *long heavy sigh*
*cue Amy Winehouse voice* What kind of fuckery is this? 🎶. … lol
Of course I had to make a post about it lmao. Back on my bs, time for another long post. (Just a heads up). Sorry if I repeat some things that I’ve mentioned in previous posts already, I just feel like they make sense to bring up here.
I should have known from the thumbnail alone that this video would pmo 💀. I was going to attempt to watch it considering it’s only around 8 minutes, I didn’t make it very far though 😂… The creator said “This is where I present the tale of a young man with anti-social personality disorder who was transformed into a serial killer due to the parasitic influence his abuser had on him.” that line alone made me click off I’m not kidding.
“The Psychology Behind Andrew Graves” and it’s just loud and wrong 🤦🏻♀️. I’m majoring in psychology and am in the process of getting my bachelors degree, yet I still won’t diagnose either him or Ashley. I just don’t feel comfortable doing that. People are entitled to their opinions though. 🤷🏻♀️. I think some people look at mental health issues through a black and white lens. Mental health is complex, a person’s well-being is determined by more than one thing, it’s a combination of psychological, biological, and social factors.
So diagnosing Ashley or Andrew isn’t what I’m getting into here. More so the comment about Andrew being turned into a serial killer due to the “parasitic influence his abuser had on him”. Of course I’ll be talking about some other things too.
First of all, Andrew isn’t a damn serial killer. I guess you could maybe consider him one under the guise of “he committed 3 killings”, but that doesn’t hold much weight to me in this instance. When he “killed” the cultist before eating him with Ashley, Andrew had no idea he was still alive. The demon basically killed him already, the guy was brain dead. (So tbh, I don’t really consider that a murder). In episode two where they sacrifice their parents to the demon, after finding out that their parents were technically still alive and coming to the realization that the cultist was too, he wasn’t too thrilled.
Next, Andrew killed the warden because he was going to hurt Ashley, he did it to protect her. The lady in 302 was wronged, I don’t think anyone is denying that. In his dream it’s justified though, he says Ashley would have wanted to kill her anyway and because of “no witnesses”. I’ve said before that he killed her for Ashley more than anything, he did it to make her happy. That’s why he got so pissed off when she started accusing him of attempting to sleep with her, which led things to escalate because Ashley kept going. Her dying did make Ashley happy though 🤷🏻♀️. The only reason Ashley wanted to shoot that lady was because Andrew called her pretty, that’s it. With no witnesses, even though it’s wrong, it makes sense in their situation. Lastly we have the hitman, obviously they had to intervene because the hitman was hired to kill them first. What do you think would have happened to them if Andrew didn’t take out the warden or the hitman? There isn’t an excuse for the murder of the lady in 302, but had she stayed alive, she probably would have snitched on them 😬.
Andrew’s morals are skewed, he doesn’t really give a shit, he cares more about what would happen if they got caught. Still, it’s not like he goes out of his way to kill people or necessarily wants to. Serial killers get off on the power and control it gives them, they get psychological satisfaction from it. I can’t say that’s the case with Andrew. With the warden he said he had no regrets, but that’s because he used to leer at Ashley and would have harmed her if he didn’t step in. The only regret he had was not killing him slower, the reason? Because the warden fucked with his Ashley 🤭. He doesn’t play around when it comes to her. I just know that when the warden would leer at Ashley, Andrew’s jealous streak kicked in QUICK. Probably gave him the most intense death stare ever.
Again, based on the thumbnail and what I mentioned hearing before clicking off of the video, I can only assume most of the video is about how Ashley is the big bad manipulative villain that ruined Andrew’s life, and that every excuse under the sun is dropped for Andrew’s actions and behavior. It’s always the woman’s fault guys, haven’t you heard??…. 🙄🙄.
Honestly, whenever Andrew tells Ashley something like “get your head checked”, “I don’t know what’s wrong with you.” or “get help”. It’s literally just him projecting. I’ve never seen someone in denial so bad 😂. His repression is crazy.
There was a really good comment left under the video which I will include:
Exactly 💯👏🏻
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Ashley manipulates, or at least attempts to, but she isn’t good at it. During her and Andrew’s explosive fight in apartment 302, when he’s threatening to kill her, she brings up how she’s the only person who can make his nightmares go away, Andrew responds with “there’s sleeping pills for that”. Then she goes “yeah okay I got nothing”… 😭. Girl didn’t even try lmao. But she says she wants to leave with him, because duh? She loves him and wants to stick beside him. Not to mention that in episode two we find out that he doesn’t actually have that many nightmares, he uses it as an excuse to sleep next to Ashley and be close to her.
The game shows us that Andrew’s far more violent than Ashley is. Ashley got physical first in apartment 302, which of course she shouldn’t have done that, but Andrew almost killed her by choking her, and when he finally let go, we see that she literally had a bruise on her neck because of how hard he did it. I can’t see her ever doing something like that to him. Andrew will just casually threaten violence too, even if it’s just a a joke. What’s wild is the story about the lady attacking him with the nail gun. He said nothing in his dream about self defense. The nail gun was literally in the same spot as before when Ashley left, and the lady was deceased on her bed, she didn’t move an inch. Andrew most likely killed her right after Ashley left. (RIP 302 lady, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time 😩). Of course they over look that though 🤦🏻♀️, and the fact that Andrew is a very good liar.
When they were children, before their blood oath Andrew literally contemplates if killing Ashley would be worth it. Even after they found out that Nina died, he didn’t really seem to care, he was just worried about what would happen if people found out they killed her (on accident, they shouldn’t have locked her in there period, but kids don’t think of that stuff. They genuinely weren’t trying to kill her, they talked about letting her out in the Morning). Also, him grabbing Ashley and yelling about how guys and girls don’t go to the same prison. He said “They’re going to take YOU away from ME.”… So yeah, Andrew has always been the way he is, he just knows how to mask it. Ashley did not make him that way.
When Andrew’s mask starts to slip off, even Ashley is a little scared because she’s not used to seeing him that way, she thinks he’s changing, but really his true colors are just now coming out. That’s why the decay route is so sinister, it’s like Andrew becomes one with the mask. You could say his mask is still slipping, just in the worst way possible. I plan on making a post dedicated to the decay route sometime soon, there’s a lot to discuss there.
I made a post dedicated to Ashley and what she’s gone through not too long ago, so I’m going to try my best not to sound like a broken record here. However, it ties into this post so I’ll talk about it a little bit. Ashley is one of the most misunderstood characters I’ve ever seen, I’m so serious. I can’t help but get frustrated when people attempt to paint her as this evil bitch who was born that way, they completely ignore everything she has gone through and what she struggles with. Mind you, the game literally puts it right in front of your face, so idk how people miss the point 🤦🏻♀️. I think they just see what they want to see. Ashley literally hates herself and has had low self esteem since she was a little girl. She genuinely believes that she’s evil and that no one could ever truly love her. She’s 20 when the game currently takes place, do you know how debilitating it must be to deal with something like that for years?? From childhood all the way up into adulthood, that’s so heartbreaking. It’s basically embedded in her at this point 🥲. So yes, it makes me mad when people overlook that despite the game showing you how hard it is for her.
They act like she treats people as disposable just because, it’s like no, actually she’s able to do that because that’s how everyone except for Andrew always treated her. That’s literally why she clings to Andrew the way she does and goes to extreme measures to make him stay (even though she doesn’t need to, but she doesn’t know that) because he’s the only person who has shown her love/she could depend on. So yeah, no shit she’s scared of him leaving. People saying that Andrew needs to kill her so he can live his life do not seem to understand the fact that Andrew actually likes Ashley being dependent on him, he doesn’t want her to become independent. Let’s not forget that when Andrew went to snoop on the cultist, despite being away from Ashley for like 20-30 minutes at most? We see a text box that says “Now that you’ve got your answers, you miss Ashley.” Do y’all really think he’d want to live without her? Please be serious 🤭.
How people don’t get this yet I have no idea, but one can’t live without the other, period. Nor would they want to. They’re the love of each others lives 🩷💚. They only have each other. Why do you think they look the happiest in episode 2 at the end of the questionable burial route?? Ashley trusted him, and Andrew said no to the bs olive branch their mother attempted to use. People who say that questionable burial is the bad ending are in denial so bad.
Please, the flowers around his head in the first pic, he was so happy 😭. The way he’s holding her head in the 2nd pic is so sweet 🥺. He loves her so much, those people can stay in denial though lmao. The new and improved Mr. and Mrs.Graves incoming 😉.
To sum it up, It’s exhausting seeing so many people completely miss the mark on everything about TCOAAL, especially when it comes to Ashley. They have 0 empathy for her despite everything going wrong in her life since she was little, but overlook all the suspicious things about Andrew.
When episode 3 comes out and Andrew’s mask fully comes off. those fans are going to be like “WHatTttTt???? How could this be?”… like the signs were always there actually, you just had to pay attention. If people still think Andrew should be with Julia after the episode 3 preview video… then idk what to tell them. 🤷🏻♀️
I just feel like TCOAAL has been so misconstrued that I don’t even know where to begin, from the characters to what the game is actually about. I mean we got people watering it down to an incest fetish porn game (both haters and certain “fans” do this btw) - (no shade to the porn games out there lmao), but it just isn’t, like at all?? I never understood that because there is nothing overly sexual or explicit in the game. Yes, there’s the questionable vision, but we don’t see anything? We just know they slept together. I think some of these people are expecting a long explicit sex scene in episode 3, I don’t see that happening though, and tbh why would we? That isn’t what the game is about 💀.
I was on the TCOAAL Steam Community page a few days ago, and I saw this YouTube video someone posted on there. I think the video was titled “TCOAAL made me wish I had a sister”, and the thumbnail was a collage of like r34 pictures of Ashley, so basically none of her in the actual game. Fanon Ashley is like a completely different entity at this point lmao. Sorry, but I died of cringe. I’m like this is exactly why people side eye the fanbase 🤦🏻♀️.
I’ll never forget this one video an Ashley “fan” made, it was so bad y’all I’m surprised I still had braincells afterwards, if I could go back in time and tell myself not to watch it I would lmfao. There was a point where he flipped off the camera and said “fuck you Nemlei”, literally what an immature asshole 🙄. He did that because she made a piece of bonus artwork of Ashley lighting Andrew’s cigarette for him. I’m sure you guys will know which image I mean. I’m like well, if it weren’t for Nemlei you wouldn’t have this character that you’re so obsessed with, so now what? 😂. If you’re genuinely angry that the creator made bonus art of Ashley and her CANON love interest because you have a crush on her, I suggest going outside and touching grass. Praying that video was satire 🤦🏻♀️. Soooo embarrassing though, satire or not. Actually, I included a comment from under that video in my Ashley Graves defense post (linked above) and dissected it because of how incredibly stupid it was.
Mind you, the creator of that video at one point said “I’d do things to Ashley that would make feminists cry!” 🤪🤪. Whatever that stupid ass statement means. So let me guess? (trigger warning just to be safe ⚠️) you’re basically referring to rape? Color me shocked 😑. Keep this idiot away from girls in real life please because yikes 😬. He said that, yet in the comment section he said the incest in the game made him uncomfortable, like be so fr…. dumb ass 🙄.. LOL.
Look, I try to be civil, but these people make it hard sometimes lmao. I can’t stand wannabe edge lords, they’re some of the most annoying people on the planet. They need their own separate internet tbh.
Anywayyy, to wrap this post up because it’s long af. Ashley and Andrew are both flawed individuals, and they both have unchecked mental health issues, which isn’t even their fault btw. Sorry, but you can’t tell me those two are the biggest villains in the story considering the society they live in is totally dystopian + they were left to starve and die in their apartment because of their own parents selling them to organ harvesters. They quite literally would have died if they didn’t do what they did to escape.
Their parents failed them both, and the fact that they formed a codependent relationship as children isn’t their fault either. It’s honestly incredibly sad more than anything. I’d say that’s why I have empathy for them both as characters, they were both dealt a bad hand in life, and I don’t think either of them have been genuinely happy before really. They’re the happiest when they’re together, and as we’ve seen from the burial route, their relationship absolutely can improve. So yes, I want them to have their happy ending so bad 🥲. Especially Ashley, considering she’s got it the worst out of the two. People try to paint Ashley and Andrew + their situation as black and white, but it just doesn’t work. If you’re taking characters in a psychological horror game at face value then you’re just missing the point.
~
I feel like I need to hop on YouTube and create a video about TCOAAL to rebuttal all the messy takes about it on that platform 😫.
As usual, thank you for reading 😘. It makes me happy to know others enjoy what I post ❤️. Thank you for loving the game and these characters as much as I do. :’)
#here we go again lol#tcoaal#the coffin of andy and leyley#andrew graves#andy graves#ashley graves#leyley graves#nemlei#gravecest#coffincest#ashley graves’s defense attorney#longer post#long post
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mentally ill men are the fucking worst. i live with a bipolar schizo narcissist (yes, actually diagnosed) and i cant even muster enough sympathy to feel bad for him, because all he does every day is use his problems as an excuse to abuse the women in his life. he is manipulative and horrible to my chronically ill mother. he makes me sick. he refuses to help himself at all. all he does is threaten to khs, and at this point i dont even care. meanwhile mentally ill women are able (and expected to) hold steady jobs, raise kids, AND work on fixing their mental health. the double standard is insane.
-🍇 grape nonny (gonna start signing my asks now)
omg... grape nonny my beloved... i adore the idea of signing your asks and i look forward to hearing more from you!
mentally ill men truly are the absolute fucking worse, i knew a woman whos husband would use his anxiety as an excuse to blow all their money on alcohol and abuse her
its like, men normally cannot comprehend that the world doesnt revolve around them but when mental health comes into play, it gets so much worse
especially with this huge corporate push of pro-mental health awareness to sell their fuckass products more, i notice men taking advantage of it and blaming everything down to sexually assaulting a woman on their 'depression' or some shit
im sorry grape nonny, for both you and your mother :( i hope things get better for the both of you, you dont deserve this fuckery
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Cruel Little Vixen 7
Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader
Summary: The universe continues to teach you and Eddie some important lessons. Tensions rise when the world becomes aware of the rockstar’s girl. And top it all off, you and Eddie are forced to make an important decision regarding your relationship.
NO READ MORE LINE BREAK ADDED DUE TO GLITCH
A/N: It’s been a tough ass road, but I’m back. I’ve experienced challenges with the last two parts of my story being deleted and having to start over, my mental health’s hung by a fucking thread, I’ve been anxious to post because I feel like my work’s not good enough but ya know what I love writing and it keeps me happy! The series is coming to an end. Just one more part (tried making this the last one but the ending’s too damn long). I cannot wait to finish this because I’ve had so many fic ideas I’ve been meaning to share. I wanna complete requests and ask for some of yall ideas or whatever. I just want to have some fun with this. Any this chapter’s filled with slight rom com elements and tropes. It’s definitely a healing experience for both reader and Eddie. Especially Eddie. It’s a wild ride so please enjoy! Also Happy New Years! 🥳
>>>>>Series Masterlist Part 7 of 8
Word Count: 10.8k
Warnings: overload of fluff and 🌽, heavy flirting, idiots in love, airplane jokes, some angst, brief blood and violence, talks of negligent parents and juvenile detention, hinted abuse of a minor character, smutty smut, kissing/making out, fingering, squirting, handjob, light dirty talk, nipple play, mile high club activities, graphic language, Eddie loves drinking his respect women juice
2 years ago…
“We’re Corroded Coffin and we’re the band your parents wished you never listened to! 2, 3, 4!” Eddie shouts into the mic, counting in time to Gareth’s drumstick taps. The drums to Aerosmith’s “Walk This Way” are the first to make its noise before the familiar guitar riff picks up after it.
Then, he sings and the crowd’s loving it.
The former nightclub bartender and now manager of Corroded Coffin, Eugene Neds, spotted great potential in the enigma that was Eddie Munson that night. In a band of 19-year-olds passing off as 21 to perform at a venue much too risqué for kids their age, the man only had eyes for the lead guitarist/singer. Eddie was going to be a star, he was sure of it. Eugene just needed to make sure that he would be the one to make it happen.
The music cuts abruptly. “Hey, asshole! Leave her the fuck alone, alright.” Eddie shouts on the mic, pointing over at the bar. The spotlight lands on the inebriated giant of a man towering over a visibly uncomfortable woman.
“Why don’t you mind your goddamn business?” The large man slurs.
“I’m not so sure it’s your business either, man. She wants absolutely nothing to do with you.” Eddie hops off stage, approaching the man as if he were David in Goliath’s presence.
At that moment, Eddie realized he was tired of running, tired of bullies, and tired of being picked on for being different. Those days have been laid to rest along with all his grievances of high school. The man had since gained the grit needed to face danger head on. It was the day he reclaimed the title, ‘The Freak’.
“You looking for a fight, little guy?” The large man attempts to intimidate, towering over him.
“Well, if you won’t leave her alone…then yes…I am looking for a fight.” Eddie stares daggers up at the man.
Not a second longer, the man’s fist connects with Eddie’s jaw, sending him back against a table with a few glasses being knocked over. Eddie’s wild hair covers over his face. He swipes a thumb over his lips. Blood. Blood that was now seeping from his mouth. The room is quiet, not a peep. But then the sound of laughter. It was manic. Wicked. And craziest of all, it wasn’t coming from the man who’d thrown the first punch.
It was the enigma himself.
So this was what it felt like to be punched? To taste blood? To stand up and fight instead of running? To laugh in the face of danger. And it felt so good.
The metalhead looks up at the giant man. His teeth, bloodied red. A terrifying smile of nightmares. He stands planted on his two feet again.
“You want some more, freak?” The large man says, swinging a fist in the air once again only this time Eddie swiftly ducks out the way. He surges forward at the large man, full speed, sliding from under him so that he is now right behind the man.
Eddie quickly climbs on top of the bar table. “You’re not so big from where I’m standing,” He quips then points at the liquor hose in the bartender’s hands. “Hey, could I borrow that?”
The bartender hands it over. Holding the nozzle over the giant man’s head, Eddie's famous smirk is the only warning. The man could barely register what was going on before the trigger’s pulled, beer spraying and trickling down his head.
The large man was now wet and red with anger. Eddie makes no haste with his next move, spatting blood in the bully’s face and uppercutting him with a kick to his chin. The large man goes down with a loud thud. The room is in an uproar of applause and thus the beer dumping incident became a fan favorite legend. To this day, fans of Corroded Coffin pay homage at concerts, dumping cans of beer on their heads.
The band was soon tossed out of the venue that night and although Eddie’s friends had sung their praises, he couldn’t help but to feel guilty having ruined their biggest gig.
Then, he was approached by that very bartender on his way back to his van. The one who’d soon change the trajectory of his life. The one that promised a life of glitters and gold. Eugene Neds had sold Eddie a dream. A dream that was disguised as a lending hand to the young man.
“I can make Corroded Coffin a household name.” He says, holding out a business card.
A former manager of countless failed bands, Eugene was convinced he’d finally found the kind of talent that would free him of the depressing bore of a penniless 9 to 5. Eddie Munson would be his project. His success story of taking a teenage dirtbag with the attitude and skills and molding him into a sex symbol. Thus creating ‘Francis The Freak’.
But then… YOU came along. The rockstar’s undoing. You were tearing down the walls that were so perfectly built.
Mr. Neds calls it: You’ll be the end of Eddie and his band. The only form of control Mr. Neds has now would be keeping your relationship with Eddie under wraps. He’ll be patient, though. He knows this couldn’t possibly last between you two. Certainly, you were just another pair of legs that captured his short attention span until he eventually got bored.
Mr. Neds snaps out of his thoughts at the sounds of your giggling, eyes looking at the rearview mirror from his seat on the tour bus. You and Eddie were cozied up in the back, him showing you some scars.
“So, that explains the NPC-like behavior of your fans dumping beers on their heads or asking you to spit on them,” You deduce. “I’m glad to be in the know. This’ll be great tying that into my last article.”
“Did you really say NPC? As in Non-Player Character? You little nerd, am I rubbing off on you?” Eddie teases, poking your tummy.
“Hey, I know things.” You laugh, poking him back. “But you shouldn’t solve everything with fists. I’ve never known you to be a fighter.”
“I’m a lover, but I’m no pacifist.”
“You, a lover?”
“Mhm, want me to demonstrate?” His mouth attacks your neck, you squeal in delight.
So lost in each other, you couldn’t have noticed the manager’s demands to the driver to halt the bus. He had grown more and more frustrated at the sight of you and Eddie being so close. He decidedly gets out of his seat, walking down the aisle past the bandmates who could immediately sense something about to go down but all they could do was follow with their eyes as the manager made his way over to you.
“Y/n, Eddie…I’ll need you to test a theory for me. Stand beside one another.” The manager demands, breaking your moment together.
“What’s your point?” Eddie asks, squinting his eyes.
“We need to make sure that you both won’t look so ‘friendly’ with one another,” The manager explains. “The media are bloodhounds. One whiff of the hormones circulating between you would send them into a frenzy and next thing ya know you’re on the cover of yet another magazine.”
“Are you suggesting that the chemistry between us is so intense that remotely standing beside each other would give us away?” You ask, incredulously.
“Precisely.”
“Are you familiar with the term ‘delusional’?” You question rhetorically, causing Eddie to chuckle.
“Not delusional. Perceptive.”
“You weren’t very ‘perceptive’ when Eddie and I got together.” You smirk.
“I’ve suspected. I just chose to ignore it. It only became too difficult to deny when the two of you became sloppy with it.” Mr. Neds scoffs.
“We can totally stand beside each other without being ‘friendly’.” Eddie defends.
“Oh, is that so?” Mr. Neds asks, mockingly. “Because right now, right before my eyes, I see you and Eddie sat extremely close on this loveseat with his hand caressing your thigh…and he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.”
Eddie’s eyes widened, looking down at the hand that graced your supple skin lovingly. The two of you jump apart as if burned by the other.
“See what I mean,” Mr. Neds lets out a dry laugh. “Now please stand. Both of you.”
“Fine.” You and Eddie mutter in unison.
Standing up at once, your arms knock against each other’s. Your eyes trained at the contact and how close in proximity you both were. You blush, eyes on him. He notices your flustered state, smirking down at you.
“Jesus Christ.” Mr. Neds rubs at his temple, letting out an exasperated sigh.
“Oh, they’ve got it bad.” Mel says as he walks in biting nonchalantly into an apple.
“It’s worse than I thought,” The manager groans. “You’re like magnets! You’ll need to stand at least 7 feet apart.”
“7 feet?! How the hell am I supposed to interview and complete my article from 7 feet away?” You argue.
“Anything is possible.” Mr. Neds answers.
“You’re being a real pain in the ass, Eugene.” Eddie says to the 40-something man.
“Welcome to my world,” He retorts. “If 7 feet’s such a big deal then I’ll be reasonable. 5 feet. No more negotiations.”
“This is so stupid.” Eddie shakes his head.
“Don’t be so upset, brother. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder or some bullshit like that. It could actually be quite romantic.” Mel chimes in.
“Mel…get the hell outta here.” Eddie and Mr. Neds sneers together.
Mel exits, a middle finger up in the air while the other brings the apple to his lips.
“Now if we’re going to work together and keep the peace,” The manager begins. “We need to do this my way. No, ‘ands’, ‘ifs’, or ‘buts’ about it. We’ll be at the airport to catch a plane to New York soon so—.”
“Whoa,” Eddie interrupts. “I thought we were going back home?”
“Well, I’ve booked a performance for Corroded Coffin to attend. It was an offer that I couldn’t refuse. A Holiday Parade! And it won’t just be televised in Hawkins like you’re used to. It’ll be all over America. No worries about rehearsals either. Just do everything exactly how you did at Mantra•esque. Ever since that performance, word’s been traveling about the new hot band in town. You’ll have an interview with the hosts of the parade right after so please be on your best behavior.”
“Why am I just now hearing about this?” Eddie’s voice raises.
“Well, you would’ve heard about it along with the boys if you hadn’t snuck out last night.”
“I have even caught my breath yet, man.”
“You had countless nights to rest. You spent them sneaking around with your…girlfriend. Eddie, I only ever want what’s best for you. If I hadn’t discovered you, where do you think you would’ve been?” Mr. Neds rests a heavy hand on Eddie’s shoulder. A visual much akin to that of a demon resting on gullible shoulders, pleading for their victim to sign away his rights. “You would have still been living in that shitty trailer park while your uncle picked up 12 and 16 hour shifts just to keep a roof over your heads. Remember, you’re not doing this for yourself. This is survival. You understand I only mean well…do you?”
Eddie’s jaw clenches, a quick nod.
“I knew you would. It’s nothing personal, kid. It’s just what they call ‘business as usual’. It’ll only be for a few more days and then you could enjoy all the time you need in Hawkins before the next tour.” The manager pats his back before making his way back up front to inform the driver to get back on track.
Sitting back on the little loveseat, you climb into Eddie’s lap while your arms wrapped around his neck for a hug. “He shouldn’t be allowed to speak to you that way.”
“He’s right, though.” Eddie huffs, caressing your back.
You felt yourself becoming angry for him, pulling away to look him in the eye. “He’s wrong. With or without him, you could do anything. Anyone could’ve seen that light in you. I have. You’ve got something special and no fucking manager could take that away from you, okay.”
Eddie’s stoic expression softens into a warm smile. “Look at you being all protective. Making you my girlfriend’s made you all soft.” He chuckles.
“No one messes with my man,” You shrugged with a smile. “He talks to you like that again and I’ll knock him down a peg or two.”
“That’s very cute,” He kisses the space between your eyebrows. “But you don’t have to defend me, ya know. I’m a big boy.”
“What? You think I couldn’t do it or something?” You ball your fists into your sides.
“Oh, no. My hesitancy is more concerned with how badly you’ll hurt his ego. I still need the man to be able to stand on his two feet if he’s getting this band going.” Eddie jokes.
“But…i-is that what you want? To keep this going?” You asked, twiddling with your thumbs.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
“What about taking a break? You’re going to perform in New York then you’ve got Europe in a week or so. It just seems like a lot.”
“It does seem like a lot. But if I have you beside me, it wouldn’t be so bad,” He catches himself. “In New York, I mean.”
Eddie made sure to include that last part not wanting the inevitable conversation to be brought up. Eventually, it will. As you’ve mentioned, the tour for Europe is approaching. The next time you’ll see each other again wouldn’t probably be for another 6 months. Maybe more. But what really affected him was the idea that you wouldn't think to consider going on tour with him. Especially since a little before bed last night, Eddie had asked you a question that tested everything between you two and all you could do was ignore it and say your goodnight.
“You want me to go to New York with you?” You asked.
He shrugs, shyly. “Well, yeah. I thought it was obvious. You’re fine to say ‘no’.” That response was meant for both situations: New York and Europe.
You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll go with you…” Eddie’s eyes lit up until you finished the last part of your sentence. “…to New York.”
“Y-yeah,” He clears his throat then echoes. “To New York.”
————
It was greatly in your favor that Eddie’s manager had decided to keep up with his “5 feet apart” rule, sitting you in separate seats across the aisle from one another. Why? Because you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about “the inevitable conversation”. Eventually…you’ll give your answer. Just not now. Not when things are going so well between you two.
You bury your head in your journal not exactly writing anything of importance, simply scribbling away to keep yourself from wondering if he was looking at you. But curiosity gets the best of you, so you peek up from your journal and catch Eddie’s eyes on you, too. You both look away at once, you resume your doodling nervously.
When you went to look over your shoulder this time, Eddie made a face silly enough to make you giggle and roll your eyes. He points at the journal in your hand, gesturing you to slide it over. You check your surroundings to make sure no one’s looking before doing so.
You waited as he proceeded to write something down. Then, he turned the journal to face you. In big letters: “Hi.”
You smile, waving and mouthing a “Hi” back.
He writes something down again and turns it over to face you. “Writing you here so Neds doesn’t try to listen in.”
You nod to confirm that you understand.
He writes. “What were you writing about?”
He could’ve turned the page to see exactly that but he didn’t wish to invade your privacy. You do the honors. Turning the page to which you scribbled different drawing variations of his name. You’re a little embarrassed to show him that he’s all you’ve been thinking about. But then he smiles eager to show you what he’d been reading.
He holds up his book, opening it to the page where his thumb held it open and reveals a polaroid photo of you looking up at him and him, down at you on the Manta•esque stage. This was his way of letting you know he’s thinking about you, too.
You smiled, writing him back. “How’d you get that?”
“Junie.”
“The camera guy?”
“Yep. Begged him to take at least one picture of you for me. It’s my favorite. I was going to share it with you but, selfishly, I want to keep it for myself.”
Is this really the same guy I met in that dressing room some weeks ago?
“Lovely view we have up here.” He writes.
You shoot him deadpan stare, not amused by the airplane joke. He tugs at the collar of his shirt in feigned nervousness before gesturing for the journal again. He writes. “Okay, I can see how that aviation joke went over your head.”
Still unamused. You wrote back. “I really appreciate corny jokes but these are just painfully bad.”
“Are you saying my jokes didn’t…land?”
“Please stop. If you’re going to tell airplane jokes, at least tell the Wright ones.”
Now he’s the one to look at you unamused and confused.
You scribbled quickly to explain yourself. “Get it? Wright. Like the Wright brothers. The first ones to fly an airplane?”
“Sorry, but your knowledge of world history is lost on me. I failed that class miserably.”
“I guess you can say it went over your head.”
“You can’t just repeat my joke. Joke stealing’s no laughing matter.”
Okay, that tickled you a bit. Smiling to yourself, you hadn’t realized Eddie passing you the notebook once again, until you felt the pages brush your arm.
“Think you can meet me in the restroom in 5?”
You scoff out loud. “I hope you're not thinking about what I think you’re thinking about.”
“I wanna talk.” He simply writes.
How could three words be so frightening? So ominous? Your heart pounds hard, daring to jump out of your chest.
“Are we not talking now? What would you need to talk about that can’t be said here?”
You anticipated his reply. Leaning over your seat, trying to peek but more so averting your eyes. You mindlessly picked at the skin around your fingernails, nerves getting the best of you.
With a solemn face, he holds out the journal to you. You meet his eyes then down at his hands, hesitating to reach for the book. The regretful look on Eddie’s face gave away that he was second guessing what he’d written down. When your fingertips grazes it, it falls out of his hand with an audible slap to the ground.
The two of you scramble to reach for it, kneeling down. Your hands accidentally touch in the attempt to take the book for yourselves. Instead of pulling away, you both ceased your frantic movements. Eddie’s thumb caressing the palm of your hand. You focus on this action then look into his big brown eyes.
The bing of the attendant assistance button pulls you out of the trance. Taking the notebook, you stand on your two feet and hug it to your chest. With a stern nod of confirmation, you stride your way down the first class aisle towards the restroom.
You shut the door behind, back rested against it as you let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Eyes closed, you peel the notebook away from you. Your hands are outstretched in front of you and when you were sure it was directly in your field of vision, you opened your eyes and read.
“Europe.”
So it began. The inevitable conversation. There’s rhythmic knock and you were sure it was him, stepping away from the door and facing it. He opens it enough to let him slide through before he closing it behind him quietly.
“Hi.” He breathes out.
“Hi.” You say in quick breath as if you were scared to breathe at all.
“I guess you read the note.”
You don’t say a word, nodding tentatively.
“Y/n, I—“
“Why’re you calling me that?” You interrupt.
“You mean…your first… name?” He says, eyes squinting in confusion.
“Yeah. You usually call me some stupid pet name. What are we on first name bases now?”
“I thought you didn’t like it?” His eyebrow raises.
“It’s grown on me.” Your face grows hot as you cross your arms defensively over your chest. “Besides, do you just call me those names simply because I don’t like it.”
“At first, yeah. But I do it now because I like you.”
Your face grows even hotter, hoping he doesn’t see the effect he has on you right now. You should be upset, girl! “So, what gives? Why aren’t you calling me a vixen or a babe or whatever the fuck?”
“I just figured it’d be more appropriate for what I’ve got to say,” He explains before taking a deep breath. “I’d like to---”
You couldn’t bring yourself to hear much more of it. Okay. So he wants to talk about the tour in Europe? What exactly does he want from you? You couldn’t possibly give him an answer he’d be happy to hear.
“I’m sorry,” You cut him off again. “I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to forget. To pretend that there was no tour so that I can enjoy being in the present, being with you. But now I know that sometimes…it’s okay to face the inevitable. So…I think I’m ready now.”
“You’re ready?” He says, eyes shimmering despite the dimly lit environment.
“Yes,” You confirmed, lowering your head to keep him from seeing your tears. “I know what you’re going to say. And you’re right. We should break up and—”
“What the hell are you talking about? I never mentioned breaking up. I hadn’t mentioned much at all since you kept interrupting.”
“You didn’t need to mention it. The signs are all there.”
“Really? Because I’m trying to see them for myself. They must be—I don’t know—invisible. Nonexistent.”
“You can’t possibly think I can just throw my career away to be some groupie for you.”
“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” He jokes.
You roll your eyes. “I can’t go on that tour with you, Eddie. I have my dream and you have yours. I can’t put my work on the line when I’ve gotten this far.”
“So long distance not a thing?”
“I couldn’t do that to you. It wouldn’t be right. You’re gonna be a star. You’ll meet plenty of women who’d want you. I don’t want to hold you back. I just won’t do it. You deserve to be free to be with whoever you want.”
“You’re un-fucking-believable, Y/n,” He towers over you. “You have no right to make these decisions for me. That’s for me to decide. I’m tired of people telling me what to do, how to feel, what to think. I may not be the brightest but I’m not stupid. What about what I want?”
“What do you want?!”
“You, woman! I want you!”
“If you want me because you think I’ll be this doting girlfriend of your dreams who’s at your side at all times, who ‘sits down and shuts up’, constantly obeying your wishes; I am not that kind of girl.”
“Okay.” He shrugs, demeanor cool and collected.
“Okay? As in…”
“Okay, as in ‘I’m not asking you to be the girl of my dreams’. You already are, goddamn it. As stubborn, self-righteous and bitchy as you can be, I admire every part of you. Good or bad. I want you to have control over your own decisions and be unfiltered as you are. But sometimes, you do need to learn when to shut the hell up and listen to what I’m trying to tell you.”
You began to seethe at his words, opening your mouth to protest only for him to put his palm over it. He shushes you, his free hand putting a finger to his lips. “I’m gonna remove my hand now. You’ll be quiet, right?” He searches your glass-like eyes. You nod slowly, your stare holding sincerity.
“Good girl,” He praises, pulling his hand away. He straightens his composure as if to prepare himself for his own news. “I won’t be going on tour. I’ll follow you.”
Now you’re shaking your head at him. “No. You couldn’t. This is your chance!”
“There’ll be plenty of tours in the future. We can have time for each other until then. Get to know each other well enough so that you’ll start to believe me when I say there’s no one else I’d want besides you.”
Your eyes, the size of saucers. “Are you out of your fucking mind?! I would never ask you to do something like that.”
“That’s the thing. It’s my choice. I’m practicing this thing called ‘autonomy’. It’s quite refreshing actually.”
“It’s stupid!”
“That’s just your opinion.”
“It’s 100% fact,” You notice him approaching you slowly and closely. He’s got that devilish grin playing on his lips. “Stay away from me. 5 feet apart, remember?”
You place a hand on his chest, stopping any attempt for him to move further. He looks down at your shaky hand. He knows it’s futile, so he laughs. “We followin’ rules now?”
“I said, stay the fuck away, Munson.” You squeaked.
“That doesn’t sound very confident,” He chuckles darkly. “You sure you want me to stay away?”
You let out a shaky breath. He bites his lip. This shouldn’t excite him as much as it did, but he was HARD. And it didn’t help that the turbulence brought his attention to your full breasts bouncing temptingly in his gaze. Even covered by your scantily clad tank top, it was see-through enough to leave little to the imagination. He grasps your wrist, pulling your hand off his chest to hold.
He knew exactly how to push your buttons. You hate to admit it, but you were turned on, too. The wetness pooling in your underwear was undeniable.
“I think you like it when I’m this close,” He lets go of your wrist, testing the waters and taking another step. This time you don’t stop him. “I’m sure you remember the way I make you feel when my hand is between your legs.”
“Eddie…” You pleaded.
“You know what else I think, you wanted me to follow you the whole time. Is that why you ask if I wanted to keep the tour going? Why you’ve made me wait hand and foot for an answer? So, you can break me.”
“Not true.” You whimpered.
“Then, you manipulate me into thinking I’m breaking up with you,” He laughs incredulously. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, little vixen. I thought you were better than that,” His fingers coil around your neck tight, but not tight enough to cut off any air circulation. “But you couldn’t get rid of me that easily. Even if you were to leave me right now, you wouldn’t be able to forget me. You’d still feel me here.”
He cups your mound and your mouth drops, knowing that your cover was blown. You were sure that he’d feel you soaking your underwear. It was a blessing and a curse that you decided to wear a skirt today.
“We shouldn’t.” You gasped as he squeezed you down there enough to feel his rings digging into your cotton panties.
Oh yes, we should!
His lips ghosts over the shell of your ear. “You’ve broken me, kitten. Now’s my turn to break you.”
“Let me go.” You whispered weakly.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” He says, tone rich and deep. “There is no letting you go. You’d think I’d ever let another man touch you like this.”
He rolls a thumb over your nipple, perked up for him to tend to. A small moan escapes your lips, causing you to bite them in an attempt to cease any more sounds.
“I couldn’t even begin to imagine someone else hearing those pretty sounds eaving your lips,” With the hand still cupping your face, he swipes his thumb over your full lips and caresses the slightly-healed scar. “Couldn’t even bring myself to use your moans in my songs cause they’re meant for my ears only.”
“How do you think I feel? I get nauseous just imagining you with another girl,” You admit, eyes staring up in hopeless surrender to him. You grow as intensely possessive as him. Your bodies are so close, chests flushed together. Nails digging into his shoulders, you lay a desperate kiss on his lips that makes him feral. “I’m not usually the jealous type but I want you all to myself.”
“You have me.” He whispers, biting down on your soft bottom lip as he cups your butt and guides you to straddle his thigh. Slipping your panties to the side, he presses his thigh into your now exposed core. You knew exactly what he wanted, grinding against the fabric of his jeans. The rough material of the denim against your clit was a delicious surprise to you.
Eddie slips his tongue into your mouth and you immediately suck on the appendage. It felt like you were so in sync with the rhythm of your bodies. Your moans into the kiss competing with one another.
You loved when you got to hear the effect you had on him even without him being inside you. Your hands travel down to the dip in his back, pulling him closer (if it were even possible to be closer than you already were).
You ride his thigh, foreheads against one another and eyes locked. Noticing the erection straining against his jeans, you palm and squeeze it. He thrusts into your hand, pursuing further contact. The two of you work to unbutton his jeans, lowering the zipper until the pants loosened enough. Spitting into your hands, you dip it past the spandex of his boxers and free him of his restraints. You jerk him in your hands at the same tempo you moved your hips against him.
“I don’t want anyone else to touch you like this,” You pant. “Wanna be the only one.”
“I don’t want anyone else hearing how amazing you look you cum,” Removing his thigh away from between your legs, he shoves two thick fingers into you. You gasp which then melds into a moan at the feeling of being stretched so suddenly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head until Eddie snaps you out of it, gripping your chin and forcing you to face him again. “Eyes on me, little vixen.”
The feeling of his fingers, which were perfectly long enough to hit depths that even your own fingers couldn’t reach, drove you into a level of high you were scared to reach for. You tug his cock harder, faster in your hand and feel the precum coat your fingers with added lubrication.
Your stares grew intensely along with the sounds of your heavy breathing. You were getting lightheaded, knowing that the end was soon approaching.
“Want you inside me.” You begged, not caring enough that you were in an airplane restroom.
“Unh…fuck…not here,” He grunts. “Next time I fuck you will be at my place, in my bed so my sheets could smell like you.”
He wiggles a finger in you, teasing the sensitive trigger. His fingers are shot out of you and you’re squirting before you could even recognize that you’ve come.
“Holy shit, holy shit!” You squeal, vision going white. You convulse under him, hearing him groan and the familiar sticky feeling of his essence running in your hands.
You both cling onto each other moments after, his head to your chest feeling your heart beating erratically. When Eddie finally peels off of you, your body grows cold mourning the loss of his warmth. He cleans the two of you up, taking his time, cleaning between your legs and running a wet paper towel on the palms of your coated hands. He wordlessly watches your eyes tracking his hands, before placing a kiss to your now spotless fingers.
“You ready to go out there?” He asks.
“Could we walk out together?” You curl an arm around his, batting your lashes. You know it’s a risky thing to ask.
“Sure, babe.” A big warm smile plastered on his face.
When he feels as if you’re ready, he gives you a reassuring look before unlocking the door and stepping out. Undeniably, you were sure there would be eyes on you. So, releasing a breath, you walk down the aisle hand in hand with your heads high, ignoring the hushed whispers between passengers.
As the two of you approach the section where Corroded Coffin‘s seated, Mr. Neds looks back furiously in contrast to your blissed out states.
Instead of sitting in his “assigned” seat, Eddie sits beside you, putting an arm around you and smirking at the manager.
“Something wrong…Eugene?” Eddie mocks.
“Really? In the restroom? Are you forgetting we have 15 other passengers with us in a section small enough to hear someone’s heartbeat?” He replies through gritted teeth.
“She was quiet enough. As much as she could, anyway.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Very.”
“I’ll enjoy myself, too, someday. Currently, I’m thinking of how great that tour in Europe will be for you. It's a shame Y/n’s decided she won’t be joining us, though.” Mr.Neds says sarcastically.
“Don’t be surprised if that tour has no effect on me whatsoever. Almost like I’m not there.” Eddie retorts.
The two of them exchanged heated glares at one another. You sigh, sinking down in your seat.
————
It took longer than expected to arrive due to the weather conditions. A day and some hours and about 2 plane transfers to be concise. By the time you’d touchdown, it was practically evening but you couldn’t wait to get off the plane. You’ve never been to New York but you and Chrissy have talked about one day moving there together to make names for yourselves.
Despite Eddie clearly being exhausted from all the performances and trips, your joy rubbed off on him and soon he was just as determined to explore the big city as you.
Entering the terminal, you rush up to the big glass windows to stare out at the bustling streets. It’s really cold but no snowfall just yet.
You felt Eddie’s body pressed up against you, shivering enough to make you shake along with him.
“You okay, Eds?”
“Not really. I’m not dressed for this kind of weather. Guess fashionably torn shirts and tight jeans just aren't enough.My only saving grace is my leather jacket.”
You felt more bodies lean into you for warmth. The boys in the band huddling for warmth since you're the only one sporting a faux fleece coat.
“Hey! She’s off limits.” Eddie growls.
“Aw, come on, bruv. I’m practically naked in this top.” Judas says, pressing hard into your shoulder.
“Yeah, sharing’s caring.” Mel chimes in.
“If there’s anything you fuckers should know about me is that I don’t like sharing.” Eddie says pulling you into his body only for the men to follow after.
“Can’t we all just go shopping and get you all some decent clothing? Not rockstar-related?” You say, voice strained from being crushed between them.
“Being a star means sacrificing comfort for style.” Mr. Neds answers.
“That isn’t fair,” You protest. “You wouldn’t want them catching colds before their performances, would you? They need warm clothes.”
Mr. Neds stares you down then up at the boys who defensively reciprocated hostile stares at him.
“Fine. The new tour bus is awaiting us outside. We need to board it quickly or else—“
“Oh my god! It’s Corroded Coffin!” A voice rings through the terminal and soon all eyes around the terminal land on your group. There’s a beat of silence before screams and heavy thuds of feet fill the air. The fans sprint determinedly towards you.
Security immediately pushes you all outside of the terminal, blocking an entrance. The doors of another unmanned entrance burst open as floods of people come crashing through, running towards the tour bus.
You were paralyzed, shocked by the amount of people rushing over until you felt a hand take yours and tug you inside the bus. Another group of bodyguards standing between the doors to keep the crowd from hopping on top of the large vehicle. As best as they could the 4 bodyguards shoo away the crowd before hopping in and the driver quickly pulls off. Everyone on the bus, panting from the exertion of escaping.
“Look at that! Just a small town band, now your name’s being heard in even more places. Told you I’d make Corroded Coffin a household name.” Mr. Neds says proudly.
You exchanged a look with Eddie, who groaned at the manager’s lack of awareness. With stardom came lack of privacy. You felt a foreboding feeling that somehow your privacy would be compromised as well.
—————
“What do you think of this?” Eddie steps out of the dressing room, a man disguised. His outfit consisted of some light gray sweatpants, white kicks, and a basic white long sleeve shirt under his leather jacket. To top it off, his signature wilf curls had been stuffed into his black skully hat for better effect.
“You look great but wouldn’t you want to dress in coordination with your band?” You inquire.
Eddie’s bandmates had done the opposite of dressing casually. Going for the flashiest, expensive clothing.
“Nah, they’ll just end up getting us chased again,” Eddie laughs before looking over his shoulders then whispering. “I’m thinking we ditch ‘em.”
“Eddie…” You began but then suddenly you felt like you were in the mood for an adventure. “Know what…I’m ready for anything. What’d you have in mind?”
He’s taken aback. “The good girl’s looking for trouble?”
“I don’t have to look far. You’re the embodiment of it.” You tease.
“Correct as always, my dear.” He says in a silly posh accent, taking your hand and guiding you to sneak past the guards.
Then, you hear the sound of Eddie’s manager yelling from behind you. “Stop those two!”
You turn to your boyfriend, eyes wide. “Run.”
Next thing you knew, you’re both gunning it out the shopping mall, the bodyguards close behind.
To anyone on the outside, you were simply a rowdy couple caught doing something bad enough to be chased by men in black. After a couple twists and turns around the corner and a few “watch where ya goings”, Eddie leads you down the stairs of a subway station. You were sure you’d lost them until you saw them treading down the stairs a few seconds after.
Eddie pulls out a subway card from his pocket.
“Where’d you get that?” You questioned, panting as you ran.
“I swiped it off one of the guards,” Eddie laughs, also panting. “My dad was a pro pickpocketer.”
“We’ll need to unpack that sometime.”
Swiping the card in the machine, Eddie pushes through the turnstiles but when he swipes the card for your entrance, an error message shows up explaining that you have to wait at least 3 minutes for the next swipe. After a couple tries of the turnstiles not budging, you look over your shoulder and notice the guards closing in.
“What do I do?” You panic.
“Jump over!” He holds out his arms.
Grabbing either side of the gate, you hop over the turnstiles and into his arms just as the men reached you. The two of you resume running, this time having some distance from the guards.
As if your prayers had been answered, a train makes its stop at your station. Rushing in, you and Eddie gloat at the approaching bodyguards as the doors shut and the train pulls away. Clinging to the hand rail above you, you both pant in exhaustion which quickly morphed into laughter.
“You’re a bad influence.” You tease, hitting his shoulder lightly.
“You love it.” He retorts.
The words “you” and “love” in the same sentence. It is so strange that you hung onto them at this moment like they had any meaning outside of its context. But what would it be like to hear those words in a different arrangement? One where it felt more of a confession rather than a dismissive play on words.
Your hand slips caused by the jutting train, sending you out of your thoughts and straight into Eddie’s free arm.
“Geez, kitten. If you wanted a hug, you could’ve just asked,” He jokes. “You don’t have to throw yourself at me.”
Wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeeze tight, cheeks squished against his chest. “I could use one.”
He melts into your embrace with an arm around you while the other keeps you both planted to the ground. It doesn’t matter to him that you were in a crowded train where anyone could spot you together because Eddie felt like he'd taken a trip in a time machine.
He’s like a teenager all over again. Sneaking around and running from the trouble he’s caused, but most of all, he felt this way being with you. Maybe he didn’t get that chance to impress you back then… but he has you now.
So lost in you, he hadn’t registered the light tap on his shoulder until accompanied by a said, “Munson?” From a familiar voice. Eddie turns around and his eyes widened in disbelief.
“Emerson?”
“Holy shit! It is you! Almost didn't recognize you with the hat,” A more mature Gareth stood in your presence. The two boys go in for a bear hug while talking over each other in their excitement. “You look great!”
“Can’t say the same for you, man. You look like shit.” Eddie laughs.
“Fuck off,” Gareth laughs. “I just got off my shift. What are you doing in New York?”
“I should be asking you the same. Hadn’t heard from you or Jeff in 2 years.”
“We moved to New York. They say it’s where everyone’s making a name for themselves.”
“You guys still make music?”
“Hell yeah, we do,” Gareth nods. “Ya know ever since, the band got separated. We knew we couldn’t stop rocking. You wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“Good to hear that, bro.”
“And what about you? What’s gotcha in the big city? Tour, maybe.”
“Not exactly a tour. Just a performance and an interview.”
“Aw shit, man. That’s wicked as hell. Rockstar life’s been treating you good it seems. I bet you get tons of chicks,” Gareth says excitedly, ignorant to Eddie’s panicking glare. “How many girls have you—“
He’s interrupted by you clearing your throat stepping out from behind Eddie. “Hello, Emerson.”
He gasps, pointing between the two of you. “Y/n…Eddie…you two are together?”
“Yep, she’s my girl.” Eddie curls an arm around your waist.
“Wow, I’m honestly surprised considering your first article on him. But Eddie did always have a little thing for you back in high school. I’m sure he made it his mission to win you over.”
“S-shut up, dickhead.” Eddie stutters, blushing.
“You read my article?” You ask, a smile creeping up on your lips.
“Oh, yeah. Everyone’s talking about it especially since Corroded Coffin’s performance at Mantra•esque. If ever I need exposure, I’m calling you for an article on mu band. Speaking of which,” Gareth searches through his jeans pocket, pulling out a flier. “You guys should stop by at this Battle of the Bands event tonight at 10. That’s in a couple hours from now so you won’t have to go back and forth until then. It’s at this cool ass venue they call a ‘speakeasy’ in Koreatown. You’ve gotta have a password and everything to get in that shit. Jeff and I will be performing along with our new guitarist, Brody. You’ll dig him. He’s chill.”
You look in the corner of your eye, feeling Eddie tense beside you at the mention of the new member.
“Our band’s called ‘TSNP’,” Gareth continues. “Thou Shall Not Pass. Will you be there, Eds?”
“I…could try. It’s just that I’ll be busy with rehearsals. So, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it, man.” Eddie lies.
“Oh…right. Well, that sucks,” A hint of disappointment in his tone. “Jeff would’ve been super stoked to see you. Sid, too. But I understand you're a big rockstar now.”
There’s silence between them. You shake your head at the men too prideful in expressing their true feelings despite supposedly being best friends.
The rest of the trip remained this way until the train halts to a stop at another station. When the doors open, Gareth makes his way over to them, stopping in his tracks and turning on his heel to look over at his friend one last time.
“When you left, we stopped making music for a while. Just didn’t feel the same. Then, I heard your song on the radio and it brought me back. It would’ve been really great if you had some time to see us play,” Gareth scans Eddie’s features and when he doesn’t get a reaction from him, he sighs. “Have a good night.” Sending you a small wave, he steps out and train’s moving forward again.
You turn to look at Eddie, arms crossed and disappointed. ”There are no rehearsals. It’s not fair to lie to him like that nor is it fair for you not to come and support. They’re your best friends. You have your band, why can’t they?”
“It’s not like I’m the one who chose to replace ‘em.”
“I know. But it’s okay to admit when something hurts,” You give him a small smile to lighten the mood. “I’m sure it hurt them having to make the decision to replace you just as much as it hurt you performing on a big stage without them. They’re chasing their dreams, too. It doesn’t mean they don’t want you to be a part of it. He did invite you, didn’t he? It’s like he said you’re the reason he was brought back.”
“You’re right.” He sighs.
“Of course, I am. I’m always right,” You tease then solemnly say. “No one’s gonna take that bond you all share. Not unless you continue to push them away.”
He nods, not saying a word. Thinking things over until the train makes another abrupt stop. The two of you exit hand in hand into the unexplored territory.
————
You were a lot more appreciative of the quiet moments you and Eddie sometimes had to yourselves. Where you got bask in the intimacy of normalcy. Lately, ever since Corroded Coffin's popularity, it’s constantly felt as if there were people lurking in the shadows, waiting on your next move.
Although, you must say it’s hard basking in the glory with your boyfriend’s face plastered on billboards around the city.
“Your manager’s not entirely wrong,” You say, pointing at the billboard. “Look at you guys up there. You'll probably be as big as Kiss someday.”
“You flatter me…but no,” He pats your head. “They’re untouchable.”
“I mean it, though. You shook the world. I can’t imagine you wanting to leave it behind now. I thought you wanted this tour.”
“I know what you’re trying to do here and I appreciate you considering my career but I’ve got my priorities straight. It took some thinking—not much—but I didn’t need a lot of time to realize I’d rather be with you.”
You try to contain the butterflies fluttering within you. “Now who’s become soft?”
“Shut it,” He laughs, pulling you against him and planting a kiss on your lips then neck until you suddenly pull away. “Did I do something wrong?”
You take him by the shoulders, guiding him to do a 180 degree turn. “There’s Coney Island in the distance. Wanna go?”
“I’m up for it. But just so you know, I like scary rides.”
“Aw, you don’t have to concoct a scheme to get me to cling to you, baby. I like scary rides, too,” Hands clasped behind your back, you teasingly walk circles around him then ahead towards the direction of the bright lights competing with the starry sky. You look over your shoulder and say, “I’ll still hold onto you, though… you’d like.”
He dramatically fakes offense, resting a hand over his heart. “I’m insulted that you would think I’d stoop so low. When would I ever deny the chance for you to hold onto me?”
“Then, what’re you standing all the way back there for? Come here and let me hold you.” You shout from behind you. Something about today made you feel extremely flirtatious. Maybe it was for the reason that Eddie was incognito, allowing you the chance to unabashedly enjoy each other’s company.
Eddie’s eyes now trained on the sway of your hips. “Just a second. I’m enjoying my view.”
You giggle. He rushes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, rocking you side to side. Your cute little game of cat and mouse comes to an abrupt end when you both enter the theme park and are met with scattered patrons all over the park with their heads buried in a magazine…with your faces on them.
“No.” You say, cupping your hands over your mouth in shock.
“Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie voices his frustration, eyes squeezed shut.
“That bastard,” You say through gritted teeth. You would have said that it was your fault for posting the article regarding Cole’s scandal. But you hadn’t gotten the chance to publish it, yet. “He was going to post it regardless of whether I’d accept his terms.”
You spot a nearby telephone pole. “I’m calling him and giving him a piece of my goddamn mind,” You say, strutting towards the payphone when Eddie grips your arm. You sneer a “what” at him.
“It’s not worth it. He’ll just try to provoke you which’ll then provoke me.”
You groan, running your hands over your face. “What do we do?”
“The only thing we can do: accept it.”
“Should we leave?”
“No. We’ll enjoy our time here while we can because as soon as we go back. We face reality.” Eddie holds out his hand.
You take it, exhaling and proceeding forward. “Okay but as a heads up, I’m definitely going to take down that man.”
“By all means, crush him,” Your boyfriend encourages. “Now let’s make you forget.”
“How do you suppose we do that?”
“Ferris Wheel, possibly. It’s the only ride without a giant line to wait in. We could talk…and other things.”
You snort. “What ‘things’ could you possibly do on a ferris wheel?”
He simply smirks, walking ahead of you this time. The boy is a menace.
You were considerably glad no one had recognized you from the magazine despite a good amount of park goers including the person operating the ferris wheel having the magazine in hand. After waiting in line patiently, it was your turn to board the ferris wheel car and take your seats.
“Some much needed alone time.” Eddie exhales his relief, both your heads thrown back against the wall of cart in exhaustion.
Not soon after exclaiming this, you both hear the sound of gum popping which causes you to raise your heads simultaneously. Seated in the chair across was a child, somewhere between the ages of 7-9, smacking away at her gum and kicking her feet.
“Hi!” She says, cheerfully.
“Hi, sweetie,” You return the greeting. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Beverly. Also Bev. I’m 8 years old! What’s your name?”
“I’m Y/n. That’s Eddie.” You point to Eddie who seemed uncomfortable.
“He looks scared. Are you scared of the ride, Eddie? It’s not scary. See?” Beverly gestures to herself seated.
“You okay, Eddie?” You asked, concerned.
He leans over, whispering to you as not for the little girl to hear. “It’s just…little kids freak me out, ya know. They always ask so many questions, forcing me to question my own existence.”
“It’s okay. I’ll take it from here,”You turned your attention back to the little girl. “Beverly, what are you doing here all alone? Where are your parents or guardians?”
“I wanted to ride the ferris wheel. Mommy said I couldn’t ride because it was bad. But I really wanted to.”
“Sweetie, it’s not okay to disobey your mother. Especially when she means well. She’s probably worried sick looking for you. I have an idea. Once this ride’s over, I’ll help you find her.”
“But she’ll be so angry.”
“Rightfully so, sweetie. But she’ll only be mad because she loves you.”
“So I can’t stay here?”
“You can’t run away from your problems. There’s a time where you’ve gotta face ‘em head on,” You were thinking maybe you should practice what you preach considering that running is exactly what you’ve been doing. “Tell ya what? I will have a talk with your mother to smoothen things over so she wouldn’t be too angry.”
“You promise?” She says, outstretching her arm and holding out her pinky.
“Promise.” You intertwine your pinky with hers.
“So when do you think we’ll get off this ride?” She asks.
“A few minutes or so.” You answered.
“Really? Even when it’s standing still.”
“Standing still?” Your eyes bugged out, looking over at Eddie who was just the same.
“Fuck! The Ferris Wheel’s stopped!” He exclaims.
“No swearing, Eds. Let’s not corrupt the kid.”
“Did you hear what I said?” He groans, standing up in the cart and walking back and forth.
“Yes! And could you please stop that? You’re wiggling the cart around.”
“I can’t help it. I hate confined spaces.”
“It’ll be okay,” You reassure him. “I’m sure it won’t be long before help.
The sound of a safety horn rings and then the click of a bullhorn. “Passengers, we’re experiencing some technical difficulties. Please allow 30 minutes for help to arrive and another 30 minutes to repair this issue. Please stay put and be safe. Thank you.”
“Well, that’s just fantastic.” Eddie throws his hands up before sinking down to the floor, head in his hands.
You sit beside him. “I didn’t know you were claustrophobic.”
“I’m not but sometimes confined spaces remind me of a certain point in my life…Juvie.”
“You’ve been to juvie?” You asked.
“It’s okay not to be surprised,” He laughs. “But yeah, I have.”
“No, I really am surprised. I never considered it,” You assure. “If you don’t mind me asking…how’d it happen?”
“It’s because I wanted to be like my dad. Ya know, the pro pickpocketer. Well, that wasn’t all he taught me. I learned how to hotwire different vehicles, dismantle and rebuild cars, how to pickpocket, taught me the ins and outs of ‘get rich’ quick schemes, taught me how to deal drugs…the whole nine. I remember wanting to be just like him,” He says. “I never cared much when my mother wasn’t around because he was there. Maybe he wasn’t the best father figure or as present as a parent should be. But when he was there, life didn’t seem so bad. Then one day we’re having some beers on the porch—I was 12, by the way—talking shit and listening to greatest hits. The cops came to arrest me because witnesses saw me stealing parts from a car. Parts that my father begged me to steal because he was too high off his own shit to do it himself. In custody, my dad says, ‘Don’t you worry, buddy. I’ll get you outta there.’ I really wanted to believe he was telling the truth.” Eddie laughs dryly, shaking his head.
Then he continues. “That was the last I saw of him and he didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eyes and say he’s sorry. I was sentenced for 6 months. He never visited me and being in that cell, staring up at the ceiling, alone with my thoughts; I realized it was the first time in my life I knew what it meant to be alone. I found out later he’d been arrested not even a month after my sentencing for serious drug charges. Lock up practically for good. Uncle Wayne took me in even when he hadn’t spoken with my dad in years. Hell, he didn't even know I existed until the guards called him looking for an immediate family member who'd be willing to take me in.”
Your heart broke at the sound of that. To know that he had such a rough childhood but he still managed to be Eddie was remarkable.
“I owe Wayne for everything I am now. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve been a dirtbag just like my dad.”
“I’m so sorry.” You say, rubbing his back.
You weren’t sure the right words to say or if you should say anything at all. The little girl, Beverly, slides off her seat, sitting on the ground along with you. Her tiny backpack in front of her as she rummages through it, pulling out a tiny pink book then holds it out to Eddie.
You both look down at it. Eddie, hesitant but otherwise he takes it in his hands.
“My dad is in jail, too,” Beverly says. “Even though I miss him, I think he’s better there than when he’s with me and mommy. At home, he was mean and scary sometimes. Mommy says he’s better now. I think so, too. He calls me princess like he used to. Once he told me that if I'm ever sad or scared, do something I like. He likes to draw. Like me.” She points at the book.
“It’s not creepy drawings of people being buried, is it?” Eddie says, fear sprinkled in his tone.
You discreetly shove his back with your shoulder. “What he means to say is, ‘are you giving us permission to look at your drawings?’”
Beverly nods, a small smile on her face.
Eddie flips through the pages and he’s caught by surprise. They were quite beautifully drawn for something done by an 8 year old. Gothic drawings of birds, spiders, landscapes and such.
“These are actually really cool.” Eddie praises.
“You’ve done these all by yourself?” You ask, also charmed by the work.
“Mhmm,” The little girl hums proudly. “Well, not all of it. Sometimes, dad starts a drawing and I finish it at home. Then, I start a drawing and he finishes it. He says it’s how we can commemorate with each other.”
“I think you mean, ‘communicate’,” You giggle. “That’s a beautiful story, Bev.”
“He also draws on people’s skin,” She adds, pointing to the matching tattoo you and Eddie had gotten. “Like that.”
You smile at your boyfriend, him, back at you in quiet appreciation; reminiscent of your time together so far.
“Hey, kid, I’ve got a friend I’ll be seeing soon,” Eddie grins. “He’s in a new band and I’d like to give him a little gift. I could use some help with creating a new logo for his band. Think you could make one for me while we kill time?”
Beverly beams. “Yeah!”
The little girl immediately takes out art supplies from her bag, taking the book for him to start on a new blank page.
“Did you mean that? We’re going to Gareth’s show?”
He nods, squeezing your hand. “Yeah.”
“Don’t just sit there?” Beverly chastises. “Gimme some ideas.”
Eddie chuckles, leaning over the page and springing ideas with her while you watch in amusement.
————
After 50 minutes, Eddie and Beverly became a close pair. You’d barely spoken with how much the two had gotten along.
“And she’s all, ‘You’re not invited because you’re weird.’” Beverly says in a mocking tone.
“No.” Eddie says in disbelief.
“Yeah and everyone in class had an invitation. She’s always been a real bully. Sometimes she shoves me, pulls my hair…and it makes me angry. Like I want to hurt her.”
Eddie scoffs. “I’ve known asshats like that back in school, too. Wouldn’t even look in my direction because I didn’t have the latest shoes or clothes.”
“Language, Eddie.”
“Sorry, I meant ‘butthats’,” Eddie says, causing Beverly to giggle wildly and nearly color outside the lines. Eddie whispers. “Some advice: don’t stoop down to a bully’s level because then you’ll become a bully, too. It happened to me. I thought solving everything with fists would somehow get people to stop messing with me but it only made me feel worse. It’s okay to stand up for yourself but it’s also okay to tell someone what you're going through. Like an adult.”
You smile at his advice, realizing that he’d listened to you.
He’s becoming really mature.
“However, she did hit you first so it’s only fair game that you get to hit her back.” He adds.
Ooh, so close.
“All done!” Beverly holds up the drawing.
Eddie takes the page, scanning it. It was of a spider spinning a web in the shape of a guitar, a giant cross in the background. It looks badas—“ You shoot him a look. “It’s really cool, kid.”
A whirring sound picks up and the ride’s moving again, the three of you erupt in cheers. When you’d finally reached the bottom, a woman full of fear stood there waiting on the sidelines. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw Beverly.
“Bev! Baby.” Her mother sobs in relief, arms opened wide.
“Mommy!” The little girl jumps into the mother’s arms.
“What did I tell you about leaving my side?! I knew you’d be here. You just don’t quit, do you?” Her mother scolds.
“Ahem.” Beverly says, clearing her throat cuing you.
“Hello, Beverly’s mother,” You waved, introducing yourself. “It’s wonderful meeting you. I’m Y/n and this is Eddie. We found her riding alone and talked about searching for you when the ferris wheel stopped.”
“Hello. Please call me Martha,” She introduces herself. “I told her that ferris wheel’s always giving up. I’m so sorry. I hope she didn’t cause any trouble with you. She can be quite the handful.”
“No. She was an angel. Even drew us a picture.”
“That’s very sweet of you, Bev,” Her mother smiles down at her. “Thank you so much for keeping her happy. She’s usually scared to ride those things alone. If there’s any way I could thank you…”
“Oh no, that won’t be necessary.” You protest.
“No, no. I’ve got it! If ever you need help planning an event—maybe a party or… wedding,” She darts her eyes between the two of you, handing you a business card. “That's my number right there. I’m a wedding and event planner.”
You blush, profusely. “Umm, okay.”
“Let’s go, Beverly. Say goodbye to the nice people.”
She pouts. “Will I see you guys again?”
You let Eddie have this one. He crouches down to her level and says, “I think so. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be needing a wedding planned or whatever,” You were now blushing so hard that the heat from your face could warm you enough from the cold weather. “Or maybe I could get some cool tattoo ideas from the artist herself.” He finishes, winking at her.
The girl beams. Then, she and her mother were on their way. Eddie, waving at her until they couldn’t see each other anymore.
You smirk at him. “Well, would you look at that. You’ve overcome your fear of children.”
“She’s pretty cool. Reminds me a lot of myself.”
“She’s very special. Bright, too. I think she’s helped me work out a lot up there than any therapy session I’ve had in years.”
“Somehow the universe keeps sending people our way because you and I could use a little push. We’re very stubborn people, ya know. Although, I’m a Taurus. What’s your excuse?”
You laughed. “So are we going to this show or are we going to discuss signs now?”
“Don’t you wanna debate how un-Taurus like I am,” He jokes. “Alright. Let’s go so see TSNP. Dumb name by the way. Hope Gareth didn’t come up with it.”
“Do you think we’ll make it to their performance on time?”
“I think so. But if we don’t, I’d still like to go for the support,” He smiles and curls an arm around your shoulders. “Then you and I could go back and face reality.”
You rest your head on his, walking out of the park; ignorant to the magazines with your faces on them.
Taglist: @that-idiot125 @strangerthingsstories5255 @haylaansmi @tlclick73 @chcolateeyelver @apolixyan @micheledawn1975 @maystecc @gay-weirdo262772 @itswormtrain @httpmedxsa @3m0xbunn1 @bebe0701 @lokiofasgard616 @joeyfilth @secretdryrose @sammararaven @cherrytree69 @bimbobaggins69 @nicolaj1978 @idgafboutyou @eddiesgffff @briasnow-blog @sweetdreamer1010 @sleepyghostygirl @babeyglo @idkidknemore @e0509 @brittney69 @samunson83 @hellfire-puppet @moonisu @mopeymopeymouse @lluviamg06 @shinydixon @cherrysoda444 @lovelyvivii @therese01 @keiracottreau @mirrorsstuff @eddiemunson95 @e-munson666 @munson-fixation @paradoxicalconundrum @lulukings92 @sherrylyn628 @szalipcombo @elamity @munsonswhore86 @kellsck @die-irre-blog @creoleguurl @edsforehead @munsonswhore86 @websterss @screaming-blue-bagel @ick90
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x you#rockstar!eddie munson#rockstar!eddie#rockstar!eddie munson x reader#joseph quinn x reader#stranger things fanfic#eddie stranger things#stranger things x reader#eddie munson au#enemies to friends to lovers#idiots in love#joseph quinn fluff#joseph quinn smut#eddie munson my beloved#eddie munson series#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x reader angst#stranger things fandom#stranger things smut#eddie munson fandom#joseph quinn#eddie munson x y/n#x reader#y/n#eddie fanfic
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I'm really fucking tired.
All I wanted was a space to obsess over a fictional man, who brought me a ton of healing, in peace.
This group has made it their mission to chase not only me away, but anyone associated with me. They called me a rape fetishizer for writing CNC fic. They called me a pedophile for making an omega Halsin headcanon. They called me a self-hating lesbian/lesbophobic for saying it's TERFy to demonize queer male sexuality. They mocked my abuse by my mom, and when called on it, laughed that I deserved it for saying how Mint's actions remind me of her sometimes. They accused me of retraumatizing myself because of the fic I wrote, when THEY were the ones who retraumatized me by causing me to have a flashback to my mom abusing me. They accused me of absolutely vile things, and today they questioned if I even was "really" abused because of the fic I wrote. They repeatedly mocked my special interests and then got offended and played victim when I said this was ableist. They've sent suicide bait to me and my friends.
They've harassed others: they harassed a bi SH fan for asking them to stop saying it was icky to ship her with men until she left the fandom, they harassed someone who made a mod to turn Scratch into Astarion so they could see the animations (even calling this person as bad as Cazador), they harassed someone for making a headcanon about Astarion dancing with Tav, they harassed a lesbian who herself headcanons Karlach as a lesbian and doesn't like Karlach/Dammon but explained why others do, they harassed my friend Mish for saying she was okay with me writing CNC, they sent suicide bait to another friend of mine and said she deserved to get raped so she would sympathize with Mint, causing her to have a mental breakdown and have to go to the hospital for 24 hours, and every time someone pushes back against them, this group weaponizes their identity by saying that person is bigoted against their identity- while ignoring (at best) the marginalized identities that person has, or at worst, furthering oppression against them (I.E. their repeated ableist comments, including one of them snarling at another user about "enjoying your grippy sock vacation")
And despite all these vile things this group of people have done, people are still believing them and sending more harassment to myself and my friends in their defense.
I'm fucking tired.
I'm tired of defending myself. I'm tired of losing people I considered friends to their lies. I'm tired of having my inbox invaded by these vile people.
They are wearing at my mental health and this already made me relapse on one of my addictive behaviors and I am fighting really hard not to do the other one. I'm tired. I loved this fandom and I loved contributing my ideas. I get so many messages from people saying I made them feel seen or made them connect to Halsin's character, and getting a message from a survivor that my posts gave them the words they were lacking for what happened to them and they were able to work through it in counseling was honestly one of the best things to ever happen to me. I really don't want to lose that. Ever. But I can't keep doing this.
I'm not bigoted to my own identity. I don't hurt people. I don't fetishize rape. I'm tired of being a broken record and not being believed because that group is so good at fragilizing themselves. I can't do it anymore.
I just wanted to share my thoughts about a fictional bear man because it made me happy and so many parts of him gave me courage. I wanted to give up cynicism like he did. I wanted to find his strength to take care of people.
But I am honestly very close to regretting ever joining this fandom. I have gained so much from it, it helped my mental health immensely, but this shit has put me in an even WORSE place mentally than i was before I joined.
I don't know what to do. I'm just tired of the way, no matter how much I epitomize "living your best life" I get treatment from these people that I honestly wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.
I have a lot of painful feelings right now and I don't know what to do anymore. It just hurts and I think everyone would be better off if I'd never made this blog to begin with.
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🦋 Life Is Strange: Mental Health Headcanons
🦋 warnings: heavy topics, mentions of psychical and verbal abuse, mentions of mental illness, kate's suicide attempt, a gif of warren beating the shit out of nathan which is funny to me, mentions of my literal enemy mark jefferson
🎧 A/N: I was feeling a little silly, goofy even. This idea popped into my head as I was writing some relationship headcanons but I decided to write this instead, the relationship headcanons will be out later today though probably or tomorrow. ツ (this took like 9 hours)
🦋 Chloe Price:
💾 An attachment to Rachel who turned out to be just really only leading her on and giving her false hope, a dead father who she keeps seeing in her brutal nightmares, an abusive stepfather who we see hit her after a certain choice and has probably hit her before on several occasions, a mother who rarely takes her side and a best friend that's dipped only to come back and not tell her.
📼Her emotions can change in a split second from 0% to 100% almost immediately, she's seen smoking which she probably uses to drift away from reality and ease the way she feels.
📝I think that from research and playing the game that Chloe has Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), from her trust and abandonment issues, being unable to take control of her emotions and the meltdown she had in Chaos Theory.
🍂Kate Marsh:
💾 Kate is so deeply traumatized by what Nathan did to her, drugging her and promising that he'll take her to a hospital (he lied to her, he's an asshole). Only for Victoria to spread a video of her kissing complete strangers for the whole school, town and her extremely religious family to see.
📼Her room is unclean and messy, things are spread across the floor including books and clothes, when she's at her desk she looks noticeably tired with red, puffy eyes from crying. Inside her room, it's dark and her mirror is covered up (afraid to look at herself, i think she's beautiful by the way.) When she's on the roof threatening to jump, she's correct that we don't know her mother but she apparently thinks that Kate is already on her way to hell.
📝I think from how her behaviour is in the game that she has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) & Depression.
📷 Max Caulfield:
💾 She's gone through hell and back, watching her best friend get shot and finding out that she has literal powers that can rewind time. Then having to rewind and save Kate's life, rewinding to stop Victoria from going to Mark Jefferson and ending up in the dark room, saving Chloe from getting killed by a train and shot by Mark, finding Rachel's dead body and ending up in the dark room herself.
📼Max seems to be pretty socially awkward and just focuses on photography entirely, she probably struggles making friends and communicating with others.
📝I think that Max has Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD), from her tending to avoid certain social decisions and her problems communicating with other people. Also, she could possibly have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) after the Life Is Strange events take place, from her time in the dark room and constantly having to rewind and save Chloe's life.
🎭Rachel Amber:
💾 Rachel sort of has to have everyone's eyes on her, you know? The popular girl that everyone knows, especially after she goes missing. Finding out that her dad's cheating on her mom, who turns out to actually not be her biological mother, that shit would fuck with anyone's head.
📼She's described as a huge flirt from the way she acts with Frank and Chloe but she's leading them both on at the same time, putting a huge strain on both of their relationships. Chloe's convinced that Frank is a huge creep (a little) especially since he has her bracelet but Chloe refuses to believe that Rachel would have did that to her. (going behind her back, lying to her.)
📝Histrionic Personality Disorder (HPD), it seems to describe her and her behaviour pretty well. Her emotions, her powers , how she started a whole fucking wildfire and her very unhealthy behaviour.
🎬 Victoria Chase:
💾 The Queen Bee! It's obvious that she was born into a wealthy family due to her expensive jewellery, clothes and very expensive camera equipment. (I see why Nathan and Victoria get along, they're both rich people who slightly get on my nerves.)
📼From what she said to Max, it's obvious that she's jealous of her and probably afraid she'll take the spotlight or her place probably. She wants to be liked, the center of attention and if she isn't then she'll have a fucking fit. (I'm gonna have a BF, a bitch fit!) It's also obvious that she's very close with Nathan and aware of his unstable behaviour, their relationship can be seen as romantic or just friends. (i don't ship them, more like brother & sister.)
📝It says on her profile that she could possibly have Histrionic Personality Disorder (HPD), seductive behaviour, self-centeredness and constantly seeking reassurance or approval.
🎮 Warren Graham:
💾 It's my favourite dork! He's literally 16 and in a school specifically for seniors, smart much? It's said that he probably advanced a couple grades on his profile due to him being pretty smart.
📼He's seen a few times fidgeting around, he's literally unable to stay still apart from when he's getting his picture taken. He acts without thinking like how he beat Nathan Prescott's ass (twice) and I get the vibe he'd also struggle focusing on certain tasks.
📝I couldn't find anything on Warren but personally i think he has Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) from what I said earlier, he's unable to stay still, acts without thinking and struggles focusing on certain tasks. (like loving me back)
🧨 Nathan Prescott:
💾 He's a horrible person and I don't defend this man but I do feel bad for him, physically and verbally abused by his own father, used by Mark Jefferson all because he's rich and easy to manipulate. He went down all the dark paths in the world for a fucked up dickhead (i literally despise mark jefferson, i will beat his ass.)
📼It's obvious he's mentally unstable and everyone around him knows, they just don't care except for his therapist. It's heavily implied that he suffers from paranoia, anxiety and psychosis. From his scary ass drawings and a letter from his therapist directed towards his father detailing how Nathan is `disconnected from reality`.
📝Nathan is confirmed to have Bipolar Disorder and Schizophrenia from the medicine (Risperidone, from his profile) that he takes which is used to treat both of those things. And possibly, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) which could have been brought on by the abuse he endures from his father. (i'll beat his ass as well.)
#🤍kane's headcanons#nathan prescott x reader#kate marsh x reader#victoria chase x reader#max caulfield x reader#chloe price x fem!reader#rachel amber x reader#warren graham x reader#lis headcanons#life is strange headcanons
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"You gonna finish that fucking sentence, partner?"
(Moxxie headcanons I may never stop believing)
Moxxie was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder shortly after he and Millie were married, hence why Millie worries about his mental health sometimes.
After the events of “Truth Seekers”, Moxie does try to better his relationship with Blitz by randomly texting and emailing him pictures and facts about horses.
He was psychologically and verbally abused by Chaz through their relationship.
Due to the events from the harvest moon festival, he is afraid of sharks.
His mother played classical music and would rock him or hum different musical numbers as she put him to bed before she disappeared. Moxxie’s love for the classical sounds and theater numbers stayed and he feels closer to her when he plays them or watches a play he thinks she would like.
He’s picky about who he kills because half of him feels like his mother would be disappointed in him for hurting someone innocent, and the other half of him feels dangerously close to his father when he kills with little to no thought. Both of those feelings make him slightly sick.
Moxxie does drag at a bar on weekends & he kills every performance.
He makes the best strawberry macarons.
After a serious conversation about eating disorders with Loona, Moxxie started keeping extra snacks around the office to encourage her to eat because no matter how they act toward one another, he really does consider her family and the thought of her hurting that way hurts him.
Blitz is listed as his 2nd emergency contact when he fills out all documents.
He befriended Collin (the sheep cherub) when he ran into him living on the streets in hell after he and the other cherubs were kicked out of heaven. Moxxie helped him find a place to stay and Collin is at every drag event Moxxie does to cheer him on but Moxxie is still trying to get him to participate some time.
When he and Millie have a child of their own, Moxxie goes to Blitz for parenting advice. This is the 1st time he openly admits that he’s always admired what a good dad Blitz tried to be to Loona.
As Moxxie and Loona’s friendship gets better, Loona slowly pulls him into different music genres that she listens to. He hasn’t found a favorite band, but he finds himself humming rock toons while brushing his teeth sometimes.
Moxxie was diagnosed with autism. He makes a good assassin because weapons and combat have been one of his hyper fixations since he was a child so he’s always been good working with weapons and he enjoys it.
After the harvest moon festival, Moxxie has thought about looking into his family history in the wrath ring to see if he still has family from his mom’s side there.
Bonus:
Moxxie finds out after the events of "Spring Broken" that he is actually ¼ possum.
#fizziepop thoughts#helluva headcanon#helluva boss#blitzo helluva boss#moxxie helluva boss#loona helluva boss#millie helluva boss#chaz helluva boss#cherub#collin the cherub#autistic!moxxie#harvest moon festival#i am not a possum#moxxie
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