#how long have they been playing this campaign???? damn

[fizzytoo]

esther shadowcursedballs i love you but maybe i’ll continue to enjoy mighty nein vicariously through you

#*fizzyspeaks #how long have they been playing this campaign???? damn #143 episodes my attention span isn’t that great #this is why it’s so hard for me to get into cr 😭 #d20 has like 25 episodes i think max. easy peasy #it’ll take ma several months but i’ll try it bc i’m actually rlly interested

[appocalipse]

Grand Gesture | eddie munson

summary: catching feelings for your best friend was never in your plans. when you start distancing yourself from him to protect your heart, eddie vows to do everything in his power to keep it forever.

“Come over for dinner tonight?” Eddie asks, trying to sound natural but maybe not being quite successful. “Wayne misses you, you know.”

It's a lie and he knows it — not that Wayne doesn't like you, far from it, but Eddie is painfully aware he's the one who misses you the most. He feels like a part of him is missing. His uncle, on the other hand, is a man of actions more than a man of words, and judging by the way he always ordered your favorite pizza flavor when you'd come visit Eddie, or how he'd give an understanding smile whenever Eddie did so much as mention your name, it was safe to say he considered you as much family as he did Eddie himself.

But that was before. Eddie now has to be quick if he wants to talk to you between classes. Most of the time you're no more than a blur to him — the ghost of his childhood best friend.

You look up at him very quickly — as if your eyes would burn if your gaze lingered too long, even — and you shove some books out of your backpack into the locker with little care. You smile, but Eddie knows all of your genuine smiles and this isn't one of them.

“Uh, well, I can't today,” you say. "Sorry."

"Tomorrow?"

"Busy too."

You seem to be calculating an escape route as you look down the hall. Eddie feels terribly pathetic when he asks again, "What about next week?"

“I have a test next week, I'll have to study.”

“Oh,” is all he manages to say.

Eddie doesn't remember any tests happening the following week. He twirls a ring around his finger nervously and tries to convince himself that it might be from a class of yours that he doesn't attend.

“Thanks for inviting me anyway," you close the locker and smile that same smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "Say hi to Wayne for me, okay?”

“...sure.”

You're leaving once more. Eddie feels panic rising in his throat, swallows hard, and says, before he can stop himself, "You're still going to The Hideout on Tuesday, right?"

Tuesday. It was something you and him had agreed on a while ago; Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout every Tuesday and most Tuesdays you'd go see them, but if you couldn't make it every time, the deal was that you'd go at least once a month. And you hadn't been there for the last three Tuesdays, which made this your last chance to keep your promise.

You look over your shoulder at Eddie, saying, "I'll try." And wave before rushing off to your next class without looking back.

He immediately knows you won't come; it's remarkable how much distance you've managed to put between the two of you in such a short amount of time.

On the other hand, you know you can't go to The Hideout on Tuesday.

Not because you have an appointment you can't reschedule or because you've already made plans you don't want to miss…but because being in love with your best friend feels awfully like getting a thorn into your foot. You could go weeks without seeing him, slowly forgetting the thorn was there…and then you'd just spend 2 minutes with Eddie and the damn thing would re-enter your skin three times deeper.

So no, you can't go to The Hideout on Tuesday, you decide. Watching Eddie play guitar wouldn't do you any good.

And you don't go. Not this Tuesday, not the next, not the one after that. Time goes by too fast but somehow the days seem to drag on terribly. And then days become weeks, weeks become months. Well, month, singular, but Eddie feels like he's lived a lifetime during the time you're not talking to him. It certainly feels like months.

36 days. Not that the two of you are counting. Definitely not.

Eddie is sitting on his throne in the middle of a Hellfire session, babbling his lines and running the campaign almost robotically, when he thinks of you again. The Eddie from before, the Eddie who still had you in his life, would have been ecstatic as he awaited the day to share this campaign with his little sheep around this very table. Now he's having trouble keeping track of what's going on.

He remembers the general idea; a curse, some monsters, an object capable of saving the world that lies in the power of a female elf the party has to find and convince to help. Yada, yada.

It's the third time he's lost himself inside his own head.

"Dude!"

Eddie looks at Dustin as if he's just been slapped. "What?"

“You're being ridiculous. Just talk to her."

"How dare you-"

Dustin realizes Eddie is about to go on a rant about getting out of character mid-session. He's not sure where all this courage is coming from (maybe it comes from the fact that he really cares about his Dungeon Master's happiness) but Dustin reaches out and lowers the screen in front of Eddie.

“You gotta go find your elf, man,” he says, encouraged by the murmurs of agreement rising from the others in the room. "Like, right now. Looks like your world is coming to an end.”

Eddie has an answer on the tip of his tongue as he looks from face to face and back to Dustin's.

"I'm the Dungeon Master here, Henderson." He doesn't care if he sounds defensive or silly or if the other boys will realize he's purposely pretending not to understand what his friend means. He doesn't care in the least.

“Oh, for God's sake,” insists Dustin, apparently the group's representative now that the subject is Eddie's personal life. "You know very well I'm talking about her."

Eddie makes a move to lift the dungeon master screen once again in hopes of ending the conversation. Dustin pulls it out of his grasp with little care.

"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

“You should go after her, man,” suggests Lucas, very quietly.

“Yeah,” Mike agrees, working up the courage to say something when Eddie doesn't say anything. “Believe me, it took some time to figure out my feelings for El, too. But at least I got it at some point, you know.”

“A grand gesture is what you need,” Lucas adds with newfound confidence. "It's what I do when Max doesn't want to talk to me."

He cowers slightly when Eddie looks at him, an appraising brow raised. Dustin is nodding his head emphatically in agreement, though.

“We want our Dungeon Master back,” Gareth says, trying to lighten the mood.

There is a silence that seems to last for years. Then, not quite realizing what he's doing, Eddie stands up, nearly toppling his throne in the process, and pretty much jumps toward the door.

Behind him, the boys shout words of encouragement and whistle with exaggerated excitement.

Grand gesture, huh?

"You should ask Eddie to go to the movies with you."

"Mom," you scold for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, helping her into her coat.

"I just don't like leaving you home alone."

"I'll be fine. I'm practically an adult now."

Of course, you are. The discussion is not about that and you know it. She knows it. But none of you say anything. This conversation has played out several times in many different ways over the past thirty days, and it doesn't look like she's going to stop insisting anytime soon.

Your mother gives you her best puppy dog eyes. "Are you really going to be okay?"

"Yes, yes!" You emphasize, gently pushing her out the front door and smiling as convincingly as you can. "I swear I will. Now go have fun!"

She smiles and kisses the top of your head affectionately.

"Lock the door behind me, okay?"

You do. But you might as well have left the damn thing open, because two minutes after you lock it and just a second after you sit down on the couch, you hear a knock.

You run to the door, key in hand.

"Mom, did you forget something agai-"

But it's not your mom.

"Eddie," you mumble, voice barely a whisper.

It shouldn't be possible, but he's right there in front of you, hands in his pockets as he looks at your face with a nervous smile.

"Hi," he says, voice husky and warm just as you remember.

You feel like your heart is about to find its way out of your rib cage somehow.

Clearing your throat, you finally find your voice. "Aren't you supposed to be at Hellfire?" you ask.

"I left halfway through the session," he says, as if that explains everything. Eddie Ditching Hellfire? When you don't say anything else, standing there looking like you want to slam the door in his face, Eddie quickly adds, "Can I come in?"

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"We need to talk."

"It's not a good time," you say without looking at him, a little upset because, damn, how are you supposed to forget a guy who keeps showing up?

You start to close the door slowly, almost without realizing you're doing it.

Eddie puts his foot in the gap to stop you.

"Please," he begs. "Ten minutes?"

No, no, no. Say no.

Cursing inwardly, you step back and let him in. "Five."

You gesture for him to sit around the small kitchen table and lean against the counter, keeping a safe distance from him, your arms crossed tightly in front of your chest.

You ask him if he'd like something to eat or drink and he denies, hating how he's become a guest at your place, an outsider, someone you no longer have that familiar intimacy with.

You're staring at the floor like it's the most interesting thing you'd ever laid eyes on. "What did you want to talk about?" you ask.

Eddie places both hands on the table, twirling the rings around his fingers anxiously.

"I want…I need to…." he licks his lips and looks at your face, trying to turn thoughts into words and not understanding why it's suddenly so difficult to do so. "Why do you suddenly hate me?"

You can't say you didn't expect to hear a question like this at some point. That doesn't mean you don't get slightly lost when you actually hear it, though.

"I don't hate you, Eddie."

"You didn't talk to me in weeks, you didn't come to see my band," he holds up a finger as he points out each of your actions, "you run the other way whenever you see me in the school hallways…"

His gaze diverts to the space beside you.

“Christ, you even ripped our picture out of your fridge, apparently,” he lets out a completely humorless chuckle, a hint of sadness behind the irony you know all too well.

You look into the empty space he's indicating and suddenly feel guilty. A picture of the two of you the first night Eddie played at the Hideout with the band used to be there.

"I don't hate you," you repeat, silly. "I'd never hate you."

"You don't even look at me."

"Of course I do." You weren't looking until now, but you force yourself to do so even though it's hard. There's something very intimate about looking Eddie in the eyes, you think, something awfully familiar. "I'm looking at you right now."

"Yeah. For 2 seconds, I bet."

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, take a deep breath, and try to keep your thoughts clear.

"Did you come all the way here to tell me to look at you?"

"No," he says. "I came all the way here to say I miss you."

A very long time passes without you saying anything, your chest rising and falling faster than usual. Eddie realizes he's surprised you.

A spark of happiness you shouldn't feel warms your heart. You try to smother it.

In a small voice, he insists, "Don't you miss me?"

Your heart screams yes, but you don't say anything. Eddie stands up, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor sounding alarming to your ears.

“We've been friends for…what? Twelve years? And you're going to tell me that you've simply decided that you don't like my company now?”

“Eddie,” you finally say. "Stop."

You uncross your arms, using your hands to lean against the kitchen counter behind you instead, fighting the urge to run. Whether in Eddie's direction or the opposite, you're still unsure.

"Why? So you can go back to erasing me from your life again without saying anything?” he asks, putting the chair back in place before moving towards you. “You can say it to my face, then. Say you hate me.”

"I don't hate you."

"You certainly don't like me."

"I-"

“Or think of me.”

“I never said-”

"If you tell me to leave now, I swear I will and I won't come back," he promises and you know it's true. But then, slower, lighter, almost whispering, he adds, “…but that's not what I want.”

You should tell him to go away, to leave. You know he won't give up if you don't tell him to do so, but you can't bring yourself to be cruel to him, not even to protect your own heart.

So instead, the spark of hope becomes a flame inside your chest and you find yourself asking, “And what do you want?”

For a good five seconds, Eddie looks at you like he's facing a crossroads. Then he comes closer and places his hands over yours, one on either side of you, any definition of personal space momentarily forgotten as he moves his face closer to yours.

“I want…,” he begins, and it's thanks to the way you can feel each word that leaves his lips that you're made aware of how close you are, that you're between him and the kitchen counter. That he's about to kiss you. “I want to-”

His forehead rests against yours, his eyes slowly fluttering closed. The words he wants to say never make it past his mouth.

He is about to kiss you, right?

“Eddie-”

Eddie leans back just enough to consider the expression on your face, eyes big and brown and warm.

"You want me to go?" he whispers.

“No,” you're not surprised at how quickly you respond. Your hand slips from under his to brush a dark curl out of his eyes. "I broke our promise, though."

"It's okay."

He leans in. You feel his lips at the corner of your mouth and let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I'll go to every single one of your gigs from now on-"

“Please,” he begs, a distinct hint of affection behind his words. "Stop talking."

"What you're doing?"

His upper lip touches yours. You can feel his reluctant smile when he says, “A grand gesture, I hope.”

And then, Eddie closes the gap — your breath catches the very moment his mouth meets yours, his kiss gentle, slow, a step too big to be taken all at once. He leans in and you feel his chest against yours, one hand sliding to the small of your back and pressing you even closer, another moving up your arm, over your shoulder, to the crook of your neck and your jaw. He holds your face and you sigh against his mouth, your lips parted invitation enough for him to deepen the kiss.

And God, being kissed like this does feel like a grand gesture.

He tastes exactly like you thought he would and somehow entirely different at the same time — something familiar, something safe, but also something new and fiery and wonderful.

You're breathing heavily — Eddie not much different — when he finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

“Tell me to stay,” he whispers. In the silence of the empty house, it's more than enough. “Please tell me you want me to stay, sweetheart, 'cause I have no fucking idea how to stay away from you.”

You're still coming to your senses, all too aware of the hand he keeps tightly on your waist, of the gentle movement of his calloused thumb against your cheek.

You wrap your arms around his neck and smile the most genuine smile he's ever seen on your face.

“As if I’d ever let you go after this, Munson.”

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x female reader

[theemporium]

[3.3k] after a conversation with steve leaves him haunted with ideas, eddie takes it upon himself to create the perfect circumstances to live out his car sex fantasy. (smut)

based off this request

.

In all fairness, the date wasn’t technically based on a lie. 

Between class assignments, after-school jobs and Eddie working on the latest campaign before he officially handed the club off to the younger boys, there hadn’t been much time for you two to just spend it…together. 

Sure, there were the odd nights you’d head over to the trailer park or he would head over to your house, but neither of you ever stayed up late enough to enjoy the time together. Nine out of ten times, you’d both be so caught up with your own things that the first time you really got a moment alone from everything would be the minutes before you passed out in bed. 

So, the idea of a random, impromptu date at the drive-in movie theatre just outside of town seemed like the perfect night you both needed after weeks of nothing. A sweet, innocent night shared together watching some trashy old movie with snacks and drinks you picked up from the 7/11 on the way—and totally nothing to do with the fantasy that had been playing over and over in his head for the last few weeks. 

Honestly, it had been Steve’s fault. 

He had been hanging around Family Video a couple of weeks ago when the topic was brought up. Just a simple back and forth of the best and worst places to have sex whilst Steve sorted through the x-rated videos the store had to offer. They had been debating on whether shower sex was really worth the risk or not when Steve brought it up. 

“Okay but nothing beats the back of a car,” he had commented casually, not seeming to notice the way Eddie perked up in interest. 

“Huh?”

“Like, when you’re fooling around with a girl and then she climbs into the back with that look on her face? It’s hot,” Steve said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s hot in the front seat too, but it’s a little cramped up there.” 

Eddie didn’t say anything in response because, truly, he couldn’t. He couldn’t put his two cents into the conversation, he couldn’t add in any opinions because it was never something he ever experienced. 

There had been a few hookups in the back of the van, but that was different. The back of the van was spacious and he often had pillows and blankets down to make it a little nicer. The last time he drove a car was back when Wayne was teaching him, and even then, it only took a few weeks before he got his licence. And he didn’t drive anything again until he saved up for the van, did a little work on her and had her as his very own ever since. 

Yet, there was a small part of Eddie that couldn’t help but feel like he was missing out. As Steve continued to ramble on, that pit in his stomach grew and grew into something quite like envy. 

He wanted that. He wanted the silly giggles and breathless moans when he fucked some girl in the backseat of a car. He wanted the heated windows, the bodies pressed together and the clothes abandoned on the car floor. He wanted that. 

He wanted that with you, with his pretty girl.

But he never said that to Steve. He never said that to you either. He didn’t say a damn word to anyone, and instead he formulated a plan in his head to get the fantasy he wanted. It was almost embarrassing how easily it worked. 

He waited a couple of weeks until the conversation between Steve and himself was long forgotten. He waited until it felt like a random day when he suddenly called Steve, frantic and desperate and seemingly in need of some serious help from a friend. 

“Woah, breathe! What’s wrong?” 

“It’s my van,” Eddie said as he tried to sound beat down and glum about the whole thing. “I planned the perfect date, Harrington! We’ve barely been able to each other with her college classes and my shifts at the garage, and now my stupid van won’t be ready in time for the drive in I wanted to take her to. She had been raving about it to her friends.” 

“Oh shit. When is the date?”

Eddie tried to bite back his grin. “Tomorrow night.”

“Just take my car!”

“Really?” 

“Yeah, I won’t need it tomorrow night anyways. I’ll be at Robin’s.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Harrington,” Eddie breathed out a sigh of relief, a wide smile spread across his face. “I’ll promise to get it back to you in one piece.”

And possibly dry cleaned too, Eddie added as an afterthought.

With a car secure in his possession, the rest of the plan ran as smoothly as he hoped. He drove to your house, kissing away any questions you had about the car with some muttered lies about a dodgy engine problem in his van passed between before he headed towards the drive-in. 

He could barely keep his eyes off you the whole drive, but it was almost like you knew the dirty, little fantasy playing in his head. You were wearing a pretty number he swore he had never seen before, some floral dress that rests just above your knees. The straps were thinner than Eddie imagined was practically possible, and the second you shed the small cardigan off in the car, he was a fucking goner. 

He was straining in his jeans by the time you pulled into the drive-in, jammed between two massive pick-up trucks and, god, Eddie had never been more grateful and convinced that a superior being existed. 

Eddie tried to take it slow. He tried to let the moment come naturally. He watched as you pushed your seat all the way back, allowed himself to do the same and he tried to focus on the movie. He really, really tried. But then you had kicked your feet up on the dashboard, your skirt had ridden up just enough for him to see the pair of cotton panties you were wearing and his brain went totally blank.

“You’re staring, pretty boy.” 

He blinked, taking a few seconds to realise you had actually said something to him. “What?” 

It felt like someone caved his chest in when you smiled at him. “I said, you’re staring,” you repeated, looking far too amused at the clueless expression on his face. “You haven’t even looked at the screen in the last fifteen minutes.”

“Must be a pretty boring movie then,” he answered with a shrug. 

You raised your brows. “So you’re watching me instead?” 

“You’re pretty damn spectacular, babe,” he replied. 

“Me or my legs?” You teased. 

“Both,” he answered shamelessly, and you couldn’t help but let out a snort. 

“Watch the movie, Eds,” you told him, shaking your head as you turned to look out the front window towards the screen again. However, your attention quickly shifted back to the boy in the driver seat when his hand landed just above your knee. “Can I help you?” 

“It’s a boring movie, babe,” he said, his fingers gliding along your skin and it took everything in you to not shiver at the feather-light touches. “A waste of time, if I’m being honest. We could always get Steve to slip it to us for free for a couple of hours.”

“Hm,” you hummed, trying to act nonchalant as you focused your gaze on his face and not the way his pretty fingers looked dancing across your skin. “And what do you propose we do instead then? The movie is two hours long. You gonna entertain me, Munson?”

His lips twitched upwards. “I have some ideas on how to keep you preoccupied, baby.”

“Like staring at me?”

“Like fucking you dumb in the backseat.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted in shock at the blunt words that just left your boyfriend’s lips, and you waited. You waited for him to crack some joke. You waited for him to grin and wave it off, but he didn’t. He just kept staring at you like he was a starved man, like he wanted to fucking ravish you—and honestly, you wanted it too.

“Eddie,” you murmured, shifting in your seat as he squeezed your thigh. “We can’t.”

He raised his brows. “Why not?”

“We are surrounded by people,” you muttered, your cheeks feeling warm and heated as you glanced around at all the cars parked in the drive-in. You were completely surrounded. There was no way somebody wouldn’t catch you. 

“Scared?” He teased with a grin that felt a little sadistic.

“Eddie.”

“Just a lil’ good girl, aren’t you? Not wanting to get caught…not wanting anyone to see how need you get for me,” Eddie mused, something in his eyes darkening as he continued to trace his fingers along your thigh. 

Your breath hitched as he reached the hem of your skirt. “Eddie—”

“It’s a shame I don’t believe you, honey,” he murmured as his eyes snapped back up towards you, as he watched your face carefully as his fingers slid underneath your dress and lightly grazed your clothed cunt. “Not when you’re this fucking wet and I’ve barely touched you.” 

“I–” You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t. Not when his thumb pressed down on your clit. 

“You can act like a good girl all you want but I know the truth, baby,” he hummed as he watched your hand dart down to grip his wrist—but not to push him away. No, you were keeping his hand locked in place like you were scared he was going to move away. “You fucking love the idea. You fucking love the idea that anyone could see what a desperate little slut you become for my cock, hm?”

“Please,” you breathed out, your head falling back against the seat as your legs opened slightly wider. 

Eddie didn’t even bother to hide his grin as he pulled his hand back, listening to the way you whined at the loss. “Take them off.” 

You blinked, your heart beating wildly in your chest. “What—”

“Off. Now.” 

You didn’t waste any time as your thumbs hooked on the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs and barely making it past your ankles before Eddie balled the fabric up and shoved it into his pocket. You didn’t even get a chance to comment on how quick he was before the boy was pushing your legs open once again, the fabric of your dress pooled at your hips and your pussy on display for him. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” Eddie muttered, mostly to himself, before he lifted his hand to slowly trace his fingers over your soaked cunt. You shivered at the soft touches, your thighs instinctively moving to clench shut but he pushed them open again. “Nuh uh, honey, not letting you hide from me.”

“Eddie,” you whined, a little too desperate when he had barely touched you but you didn’t care. “Please. Fuck, please.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, his tone almost tipping over that line of condescending. But honestly, it just made the coil in your stomach tighten. You liked it when he was a little mean. You liked it when he knew just what you wanted. “Gonna make my girl feel good. Promise.”

One hand gripped the fabric of your dress, letting it bunch in your first as your other hand pressed against the window. You tried to keep quiet. You tried to remind yourself that cars were far from soundproof. You tried to remind yourself that you were surrounded by other movie-watchers. You tried to remind yourself that anybody could look over and see you. 

But it was really hard to care about anything other than Eddie burying two fingers inside you, pumping and curling his fingers in a way that had you arching off your seat. 

And Eddie couldn’t help but watch, completely enthralled. 

He didn’t give two shits about the movie when he had you. The way you squirmed and wiggled in the passenger seat, your nails digging into the fabric of the seat and scratching along the car door as he continued to thrust his fingers inside you. The way you clenched around him, incoherent babbles and needy noises leaving your mouth as you reached closer and closer to your edge. The way you looked so fucking pretty with flushed cheeks and glossy eyes and he had barely fucking touched you. 

This was a movie he could never get sick off. This was a movie he could never look away from even if he tried. 

And fuck, the way you were far too loud when you came. The way he was so fucking sure that either patrons in the trucks beside you could have heard you, could have looked over and seen you coming around his fingers as you cried out his name. The way Eddie felt something quite like pride burst in his chest at the idea. 

“Atta girl,” he cooed, his thumb brushing over your sensitive clit as your body convulsed at the burst of pleasure. “Told you I know what my pretty girl wants.” 

“Eds,” you mumbled, somewhere lost between pleasure and desire as you watched him slide his fingers out of you. As you watched him bring his fingers to his lips, shamelessly sucking off the mess you made and groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. As you watched his eyes roll back as he savoured the moment. 

And before you could even let yourself catch your breath, his hand slapping the inside of your thigh as he flashed you a smirk. 

“Get that pretty ass in the backseat, baby.” 

There was something about the way you didn’t even hesitate as you clambered into the backseat of the car, even with shaky legs and panting breaths as you tried to recover from your previous orgasm. There was something about the sight of your dress pulled up over your ass, giving him a pretty view of your pussy as you climbed into the back. There was something about the fact you were so unbothered and uncaring about patrons in the drive-in hearing or seeing you now because you only had one thought on your mind—and it was his cock.

Eddie groaned at the sight of you in the backseat, biting on your bottom lip as you looked at him with a sense of urgency. You wanted him. You needed him. And fuck, if that didn’t make blood rush down to his already painfully hard cock. 

His fingers moved down to unbutton his jeans, hand slipping beneath the waistband to squeeze the bulge in his boxers for some relief but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be inside you, he needed to feel you clenching around him, he needed to have your pretty pussy wrapped around him. 

The car was already reaching a point of warmth that would start to become unbearable with too many layers. With the windows already starting to fog up and a thin layer of sweat covering your skin, Eddie barely wasted any time in shedding a few layers until the boy’s flannel and shirt were thrown somewhere on the driver’s seat and his jeans and boxers were pulled down enough for him to pull his cock out, stroking the length of himself as you quickly shifted onto your hands and knees. 

His head was brushing against the roof of the car, the vehicle had probably already rocked a suspicious amount to the people around you and Eddie was certain that if somebody passed right now, they would get a direct view of his ass—but he didn’t care as he gripped your hips, pulling you back until your ass was flush against his pelvis and his cock was buried deep inside you.

“Shit,” he breathed out, his chin tucked against his chest as he watched the sight of your cunt swallowing his cock. He let out a whimpering noise when your walls clenched around him, squeezing him so tight he could have sworn he would’ve come instantly if he wasn’t using every ounce of self-control to hold himself back. “Feel like fuckin’ heaven, honey.”

“Please,” you whined, pushing back against him as your nails dug into the material of the seats. “You promised.” 

“I know, I know,” he cooed, that hint of the patronising tone lacing his words again and making you clench around him. “Gonna do what I promised, baby. Gonna fuck you dumb and make sure everybody in this drive-in knows it.” 

It shouldn’t have turned you on so much. It shouldn’t have made your stomach dip in desire. It shouldn’t have made your head spin with a kind of dizziness only Eddie Munson could bring. 

And yet, it did. 

And you were absolutely fucking shameless about it. You didn’t care what your patrons thought. You didn’t care if there were people there you knew and would see. You didn’t care about anything when Eddie was pounding into you from behind, your face squished against the car seat as he kept going and going and going. 

You didn’t care about drawing the attention of others as the car rocked with his movements, or the fact your hand pressed against the foggy window gave everyone a clear indication of what was happening. Not when the debauch noises of Eddie fucking you echoed through the car, the shameless sign of how much you loved this. 

You didn’t care about anything other than the bruising grip on your waist as he fucked your soaking pussy, as your walls clenched around him, as you moaned his name over and over and over until you felt white spots dotting your vision as you came around his cock. 

You could barely comprehend the world around as his fingers slipped into your mouth to muffle the whimpering moans you let out, to keep them just for himself as he thrusted one, two, three more times until he finally let himself go. You barely cared about anything else as you lazily sucked on his fingers, a low groan of appreciation sounding through the car as you felt him hunch over you, cooing at how well you did for him.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured as he pressed chaste kisses to your cheek, watching the way you blinked up at him as your tongue wrapped around his digits in your mouth. “God, you’re a fucking dream, baby.” 

“Hmmm,” you hummed, pleased with his response. 

You let out a huff of annoyance when he pulled his fingers from your mouth, but seemed happy enough that he showed no signs of moving from his spot just yet. Something about the weight of his body on top of you and his cock still buried deep inside you was oddly calming, and it wasn’t something you were willing to give up just yet.

“What are the chances Harrington never finds out we fucked in his car?” Eddie wondered out loud after a few beats of silence, causing you to let out a snort in response.

“Very, very low,” you murmured as you turned your head to the side so you could look up at your boyfriend. “I would recommend getting it dry cleaned. Maybe blessed by a priest.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “That’s a tad dramatic.”

“I can feel your cum dripping down my leg and onto the seats,” you bluntly pointed out, but your lips were still twitched upwards in a smirk. “I’d hardly say that’s me being dramatic.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie groaned as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses between words. “I’ll get it dry cleaned.”

“Good.”

“After a few more rounds.”

“Eddie!”

“What, baby? I have a few more fantasies I wanna play out and that dress isn’t helping,” he murmured, though you could feel his smirk against your skin. “If anything this is your fault.”

“Really?” You deadpanned. 

But the boy just flashed you an innocent smile, one that looked so sweet but you knew held a million untold, dirty promises in it.

.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

[mydearzero]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕬𝖇𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖍 | 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤!𝐄.𝐌. 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

MASTERLIST

Summary: Eddie's new campaign is brutal. But what happens when you get sucked into the game of D&D, Jumanji style, and encounter Eddie under the mind-control of a vicious beast?

Warnings: dark!Eddie (noncon, dubcon, mind-control, telepathy, degradation, humiliation, blood, dacryphilia) smut (penetrative sex (f rec), oral (f and m receiving) creampie, overstimulation, forced orgasm, rough sex, outdoor sex) angst, predator/prey dynamics.

THIS WORK IS 18+ MINORS DO NOT READ OR INTERACT

This also won't make a whole lotta sense D&D wise, but I tried lol. I don't know what else to say about this one y'all.

4.2K words

beta read by @mypoisonedvine

Eddie's latest campaign was taking over your life. He had been preparing it for weeks beforehand, ensuring it would be the longest and most gruelling campaign to date. The research had been brutal. Eddie wanted your help but didn't want to let you in on too many details. 

When the time finally came to play, it was nearing the end of summer. Mr Clarke had indulged and given one (1) universal key to the school to the Hellfire Club. How he'd trusted the bunch of you with it was beyond your comprehension. Damn Henderson and his inability to be disliked. 

So here you were, in the theatre room, blocking the windows with trash bags and tape to obstruct any light. The new campaign had something to do with an amphibian creature, which was already more info than Eddie had been willing to divulge. 

The rest of Hellfire would arrive shortly, so you and Eddie rushed to finish the last details. You noticed a couple of books stacked by Eddie's chair, mainly ones to help him with the campaign. Scribbled on the top of his notes was the name of the campaign. 

"The Search for the Aboleth" 

That was all the club had been allowed to know about the campaign. They knew of Aboleths, but with Eddie as Dungeon Master, you could never be sure how the creature would be implemented. Whether the search would be one for a friend or a foe. You'd have to play his game and hope you survive. 

When the others finally arrived, they crowded around the table, observing what they could of what they would be up against. Eddie sat on his throne, a proud smirk dancing on his lips as he watched the club members. 

The excited chatter died down as Eddie's demeanour changed. It was game time. Silence overtook the room as everybody took their place around the table, glancing at Eddie in suspense. 

He started telling the tale of the Aboleth, a wicked creature of the sea with the ability to breathe on land and covered in thick, grey mucus. Similar to Mind Flayers in ability but older, more fearsome and highly intelligent. With their racial memory, they inherited the memories of all their ancestors. 

Long story short, this was not a friend you were to search for. It was a vile enemy, one with psionic abilities and capable of some critical damage. 

The Aboleth you were looking for had enslaved a party member, making him their loyal servant. Your objective was to find the Aboleth, slay it and free your party member. 

Hours were spent that evening debating, rolling dice and screaming in despair when member after member perished from their injuries. Your gaze fell upon Lucas, the only remaining member besides Gareth, still fighting by your side. His look was one of sorrow. There was no coming back from this. 

Eddie cut the campaign short, then. It was getting late, and Hawkins was under a permanent curfew. Time to go home and sleep off the post-d&d jitters before letting them fall back into place the following afternoon. 

The boys tailed out of the classroom, leaving you with Eddie to clean up and rearrange the table. Everything to be able to continue where you'd left off. You heard Eddie shuffle after you'd cleaned up the figurines and dice, catching his gaze as he blew out the last candle, leaving you in total darkness. 

You heard a dark chuckle from the abyss. It sounded like Eddie. It had to be him, right? Who else could be here? A deep chill settled in your bones as you walked backwards, stepping away from the table. 

You tripped over seemingly nothing, perhaps your own feet, sending you toppling. You expected to hit the floor, but the direction of gravity appeared to change. Suddenly, you were falling forward. Your hands shot out to catch yourself, but you were surprised when your back eventually hit the floor, knocking all air out of your lungs. 

Head spinning with disorientation, Eddie seemed to finally have turned on the lights in the classroom. Your chest rose rapidly, trying to catch your breath as your eyes adjusted to the brightness. Your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed as you took in your surroundings, still on the floor. 

This wasn't a classroom. 

Where you were, exactly, you couldn't say. It was too dark yet too bright at the same time. It was then you felt a pain shoot from your leg up to your thigh. Looking down, you noticed the surface you'd fallen on. A combination of rocks, dirt, sticks and other things you'd find in nature. The ground was moist. One particularly large, sharp rock had lodged its way into your calf, leaving a gnarly wound, oozing blood. That would explain the pain. 

"Wanna roll on your luck, babe? Maybe it'll heal, maybe it won't." Your head whipped around. Eddie? 

He was holding a vial containing red, glistening liquid. A Potion of Healing? When had he managed to make such a convincing prop? He tossed you a D20, eyebrows raised in expectation. Was he seriously expecting you to roll for your possibility of taking the potion when you were bleeding? 

You grabbed it and glanced at Eddie before rolling it into the dirt. Eddie gazed at the number facing up, tutting at the outcome. "Seems like it's just out of reach. How unfortunate."

You knew he must've been joking. The potion was probably cherry-flavoured Kool-Aid. So why were you filled with feelings of anguish at your inadequate roll? Why was he still not helping you stop the bleeding, stop the pain? 

Another dark chuckle, the same as you'd heard before. You observed Eddie, helpless as he laughed. He met your eyes, an unsettling feeling developing in your gut. His eyes were clouded, distant. You attempted to get a read of his feelings, maybe his thoughts. But nothing. He was a shell. 

You tried to pull yourself from the ground, groaning as you felt the sting of the rock lodged in your skin. You pulled it out with a pained yelp and tossed it aside, scanning the wound. It wasn't too bad. The blood made it look worse than it really was. Though that was a comforting thought, the uneasy feeling in your stomach remained. 

You pushed yourself onto your feet, holding onto Eddie's bicep as you steadied yourself. Another sharp pain shot up your spine, but you had no choice but to ignore it. You had to figure out where you were, how you got here and what the hell was going on with Eddie. 

You took in your surroundings, baffled by the fact that it had been a theatre classroom a few minutes ago. No chairs, tables or even windows were in sight. You weren't even inside a building. You craned your neck to gander at the sky, the moon closer to Earth than you'd ever seen. If this even was Earth. The atmosphere looked like one of the drawings from Eddie's books. 

Something was definitely very wrong. 

Your hand was still resting on Eddie's arm, but he was cold to the touch. He must've been here for some time, longer than you, seeing as you were still warm. He inhaled deeply through his nose, closing his eyes before turning to you. "Wanna go for a swim?" 

You looked confused at the question. Swim? At a time like this? He grabbed your shoulders and turned you to the giant lake behind you. A monstrous beast was writhing among the smaller fish. Its eel-like stature was an eerie sea-green colour. Three red eyes on the top of its head were watching your every move. You turned slowly to look at Eddie, not daring to make any sudden movement. 

"The Aboleth... Isn't it beautiful?" 

A red sheen covered Eddie's eyes— you knew he was gone. You ripped yourself free from his grip and ran as fast as your legs would carry you. Your bleeding calf was screaming at you to stop, but the sound didn't overpower Eddie's taunting laughs as he followed you unhurriedly. 

It was clear now the party member enslaved by the Aboleth was him. You didn't know where you were going, but you knew you had to get away from the creature, get away from Eddie. You hid behind what looked like a tree in an attempt to catch your breath. The mysterious noises emerging from your surroundings didn't take away from the suspense, adding a soundtrack of howling critters and winds to your despair. 

Your mind wandered to the campaign. Was this some sick joke? An immersive experience Eddie had prepared? You wanted out. Your mind flashed back to when Eddie had introduced the creature. 

"Aboleths are fish-like amphibians of immense size. They are both extremely cruel and highly intelligent. They have the ability to change creatures' consciousness to that of a mindless servant. This allows Aboleths to keep slaves, known as Aboleth Servitors, which they dominated and kept captive through their mind."

The heaving of your chest diminished along with the fast pace of your heartbeat. You listened for Eddie's footsteps, but it was in vain. You wouldn't have been able to hear them over the sound of the forest. 

You examined your leg but were stumped to see the wound had slowly closed in on itself, only the remnants of blood left behind. It no longer hurt. Relief washed over you. Maybe you'd be able to do this. Perhaps, you'd be able to run. 

An icy breeze blew through your hair, a quiet gasp escaping you. You slammed your hand over your mouth to cover the sound, but the hand running through your hair and down your neck told you enough. He'd found you. 

He took a strand between his fingers and brought it up to his nose, inhaling deeply. Your eyes were squeezed shut, wishing for this nightmare to end. To wake up, whether it be in the classroom or your bed. For Eddie to be the sweet, caring person you knew he was. Not this... this carcass possessed by a monster. 

"That healing ability of yours won't save you, sweetheart." He whispered in your ear. Goosebumps raised at his words, covering your body as a chill went down your spine. You took in his words and looked back down at your leg. 

Your D&D character had healing abilities. The Aboleth was part of Eddie's campaign. Was this The Search for the Aboleth? Because if so, you'd found it, alright. You needed real Eddie's guidance on what to do. Give you your options. Let you roll to see the damage you'd do. Be your Dungeon Master. If this genuinely was Eddie's campaign, there had to be a chance to win. 

"I can hear the cogs turning in your head, sweetheart. There's no use." It was Eddie's voice, but it wasn't his words. This wasn't Eddie. You had to remind yourself that it was the Aboleth. 

You tried thinking through your options. Which other powers did your D&D character have? If your healing ability was somehow working, others must too, right? 

You searched for eye contact with Eddie. Maybe if you could communicate with the part of him that was still in there, you'd be able to free him of the Aboleth's control. You shouted his name as loud as you could without the use of your vocal cords. His smile turned sinister, mocking. A voice echoed in your head. 

'If a creature communicates telepathically with the Aboleth, the Aboleth learns the creature's greatest desires.'  It was the memory of real Eddie describing the Aboleth's abilities. He had explained it earlier when Mike had tried the same thing on one of the other Aboleth servitors. You should've known not to try. 

A searing, white pain shot through your head as Eddie placed his palms to your temples. He was digging through every crevice of your brain, using the Aboleth's abilities to explore everything you desired most in life. His eyebrows raised in surprise, a disbelieving scoff leaving his lips. 

"It seems the thing you desire most... is me."

His hand covered your mouth before the pleading gasp wanting to escape could do so. His other hand found your waist, holding you as you clawed at his arm. You struggled to breathe as he pulled you to a clearing. He finally let up as he pushed you to the ground harshly. 

"Eddie... Please..." You begged as he towered over you. He had to be in there somewhere. You weren't sure what his next move was, but every bone in your body knew it couldn't be anything good. 

He bent down and grabbed your ankles, tugging you to him. The skin on your arms scraped as he dragged you over the stone ground. A metallic scent hit your nose. Undoubtedly, you were bleeding again. 

"We're just giving you a taste of what you want. It can all be yours if you come willingly." Eddie mumbled as he got on your level, rubbing up your thigh. You tried to scoot back, away from his touch, but the grip on your ankle was relentless. 

"Unwillingly, it seems. It's not like you have a choice." He grumbled as he ripped your bottoms in one go. 

"Eddie, stop!" You shrieked and struggled and tugged to pull your ankle from his grasp. He ignored your pleas with a menacing laugh as he continued undressing you. You tried to cover yourself to the best of your ability, but it was useless. Whatever had taken over Eddie's body had given him the strength of a dozen men. 

"You're all the same, you humans." Eddie moaned as he palmed himself through the fabric of his jeans. "Getting worked up over nothing, desiring nothing but other humans. This one is just like you. Desiring you. Wanting you most out of anything any world has to offer. Pathetic, breeding folk." 

He grabbed your breast hungrily, bending down to take your nipple in his mouth. He took it between his teeth, tugging at it painfully. He slapped your thigh— hard. A warning to not make any more noise. You hadn't been aware you'd been pleading with him to stop continuously. That was going to leave a bruise. Or it wouldn't, depending on whether you'd dreamt up the healing abilities. 

"Even this body. It can't resist. It really has a mind of its own when presented with an object of its desire. Ridiculous."

He took his time with your tits and nipples, sucking, pinching, kneading, anything that pleased him. It wasn't like you had the strength to stop him. Subdued cries repeatedly left your mouth, but your struggle diminished as your body betrayed you. 

Eddie grabbed your ankles and pulled them apart, spreading you open for him to see you on display. A tear rolled over your temple. At this point, it wasn’t out of pain or desperation. It was out of embarrassment. Embarrassment at the heat in your abdomen, the glistening of your cunt. Eddie saw it. You knew he did. 

He sought eye contact, the glint in his eyes knowing. It was almost like regular Eddie when he knew something you didn't. Almost. 

"You're such a disgusting whore. Already fucking wet?" You felt defeated. You wanted to fight, but the powers granted to Eddie saw right through you. They saw what you liked. What would get you soaked in seconds— even when you least wanted it. 

Both his hands ran up your thighs as he sat on his knees. His thumbs ran over your folds, spreading them so he could get a proper view of your pussy. You pleaded once more. He could still stop. He could still salvage this. He didn't let up, plunging the tip of his thumb inside, feeling the rim of your entrance, tugging at it and stretching it painfully. 

A quiet sob left you when you knew this was really happening. You'd imagined sleeping with Eddie. Sucking him off, taking his fingers, bouncing on his cock. You'd imagined it all. But this? This had never been amongst the possibilities your mind had fabricated. 

Eddie bent down, keeping his hands on your knees as he inhaled the scent of your arousal. "Haven't smelled anything that delicious in decades, maybe even centuries." He licked between your fold gingerly, groaning as he did so. You felt the vibrations of his voice reverberate against your clit. You clenched your lips shut along with your eyes, not wanting to give in to the sensation. 

His mouth closed around your clit, sucking and tonguing at it, gauging your reaction. Your hand slapped over your mouth. You refused to enjoy this. This wasn't Eddie. It might look and sound like Eddie, but it wasn't him. 

"Oh, but it is me. I've just been... enlightened."

Eddie's eyes closed in bliss as his tongue dipped inside. His thumb circled your clit rapidly. Whines built up inside your chest, but you didn't dare let them out. This shouldn't feel good. Your fist clenched as he watched you like a hawk, relentlessly pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

"Please, Eddie!" You yelled out as the hand covering your mouth slapped the floor, searching for any leverage. The worst part was that you weren't sure what you were pleading for. You wanted him to stop. But you didn't, couldn't have him stop now. 

"Come for me. Come on my tongue like the desperate bitch you are." The pressure on your clit and in your abdomen increased. You tried to hold it. You couldn't give this monster the satisfaction. Eddie smirked as he noticed your struggle but knew you wouldn't be able to resist much longer. 

When his mouth diverted its attention back to your clit, three fingers slipped inside roughly, curling them just right. You cried out as you clenched your teeth. You had to hold it. You had to. 

But you couldn't. 

The repeated come-hither motion combined with the attention to your clit sent you over the edge with a loud scream. You saw white as your chest heaved, but your breaths were short-lived when you were picked up by your shoulders and pushed down on your knees punitively. You heard Eddie unbuckle his belt, taking off his jeans but leaving his shirt. 

His hand came up to your chin, pushing your cheeks with his fingers. Your mouth opened of its own volition, giving him exactly what he wanted. "If I feel any teeth, you're dead. Got it?" He snarled viciously. You nodded as a tear fell down your face. You hadn't even noticed you'd begun crying. 

You felt vile as you sat with your knees in the dirt, proof of your orgasm dripping down your thighs. You heard Eddie gurgle before bringing your face close, spitting in your mouth. He took his cock in hand and brushed it over your lips, gathering the spit that hadn't made it inside before pushing past your lips. 

He didn't give you room to breathe, holding the back of your head as he pushed until the tip hit your throat. His other hand found yours, bringing it up to cup his balls. "Leave it there, play with them." He grunted as he increased speed. He smirked when he felt you gag, pushing just that tiny bit harder to feel it again. 

"You're even prettier when you cry for me. With those big, fat cry-baby tears rolling down those adorable cheeks?" He laughed as he wiped them away. Your eyes were almost as red as Eddie's were under the control of the Aboleth. 

You felt more tears escape your eyes when you realized that despite all this, gagging and being unable to breathe around his dick, a low simmer of heat once again developed in your nethers. Your free hand itched to relieve the tension, but you placed it on his thigh instead, steadying yourself against his quick thrusts. 

Eddie's hips stuttered before they stilled, releasing inside your mouth with a loud moan. He remained still for a second before pulling out, tapping your cheek with the palm of his hand. "C'mon, open up. Show me."

Your face was one of misery as you slowly opened your mouth, letting him observe the mess he'd made. "Good girl... See? Isn't this exactly where you're supposed to be? What you're supposed to do? On your knees, serving your master?" The smile on his face was filled with pride and insult. 

He pushed your shoulder, sending you collapsing back to the floor. You cried as your head hit the cold stone. You felt dizzy as Eddie towered over you, pushing your legs open and positioning himself between them. "Please, Eddie. No more. Please."

Your begs went unanswered as Eddie placed his hands on your knees, lining himself up before brutally pushing inside. The stretch was painful, but you'd already come once. The slick from your previous orgasm was enough lubrication for him to slide in and out at a gruelling pace smoothly. Your pleas slowly diminished into small whines and moans, no longer being capable of holding them back. 

Eddie bent down as he continued thrusting, licking a stripe up your neck before nibbling on your earlobe. "I know you're loving this. You don't want to, but you can't help it. I know you want me to destroy you. Whether it be this version or the one you're comparing me to. As long as I look like Eddie Munson, you're gonna come for me. Cream all over my cock when I pump you full of my cum."

His voice was a mere whisper, but you knew he was right. As long as it was Eddie, in any shape or form, you'd come undone. His hair tickled your neck as he hung above you. He changed the angle of his hips abruptly, along with his pace. You moaned loudly at the unexpected abuse of your most sensitive spot. 

"See?" He groaned as he placed a kiss on your neck. Now that the dam of your moans had broken, you couldn't suppress them flowing out. The vulgar sound of his balls slapping against you combined with your broken moans echoed through the clearing. 

His hand left your knee to stroke your clit with ruthless pressure and pace. Mixed with his cock hitting the right spot over and over and Eddie sucking on your neck, it was too much. Your senses were overwhelmed. Your head was still spinning from hitting the floor, but now it was also reeling with pleasure. 

You didn't have time to feel disoriented as Eddie ravished your cunt. The sharp jabs of his hips pulled everything from you, moans, whines, pleas and cries. Your hands made their way to Eddie's back, scratching vigorously as a means to ground yourself as you neared your second orgasm. Your hips started meeting his pace, desperate for release, hopeless for this to be over.  

You panicked as you felt him speed up, seeking his release. You were so close, but he couldn't come inside. You'd give everything to come, but not if it meant being filled up in return. Tears welled and spilt at the realization, hips unable to stop. Your mind fought your body as Eddie continued drilling into you. 

He bit your shoulder when you felt he was close. You were right there with him. "Scream for me. Scream my name." Eddie groaned in your ear as he came, spilling inside you, filling you up. You felt so full. He continued thrusting, squelching sounds coming from your cunt as you squeezed around him. 

Your whines became high-pitched as your eyes squeezed shut, coming on his cock as he laughed manically. A scream of his name escaped your mouth as everything went dark. 

"Eddie!" 

Silence overtook you as you suddenly felt heavy. You felt around you as you opened your eyes. You were surrounded by darkness. Your fingers touched the hardwood floor. 

Lights flickered above you as Eddie looked at you questioningly from the other side of the classroom. You looked down on yourself. You were fully dressed, appearing to have tripped over a bag. 

"You okay?" He questioned with a concerned expression. You nodded wildly, though cautious. Had you just hit your head? Had Eddie been here all along? How long had you been gone? Out? 

Eddie noticed your perplexed face and offered his hand to help you up. You took it and rose to your feet. Eddie frowned as he grabbed your elbow to examine your arm. He took your other arm, both had been scraped up pretty badly. 

"How'd this happen?" He asked. It couldn't have happened due to a simple fall on a hardwood floor, could it? You shrugged as your knees weakened. Was this still all in your head? Was this still possessed Eddie? He tutted as he released you from his grip. He turned to the table and grabbed the D20. 

"Wanna roll on your luck, babe?"

#dark!eddie #dark!eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #Eddie Munson fanfiction #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

[public-trans-it]

i was a trans man until after a lot of build up of doubting myself, i finally realized that we are putting ourselves further into boxes by not accepting that we are the biological sex that we are and we can do WHATEVER we want at the same time.

clothes and makeup and certain interests do not equal gender.

and not liking being a woman is an unfortunately natural symptom of puberty and/or experiencing society’s deeply ingrained misogyny. and everyone deserves support for those problems.

but we can all fight together against gender social constructs in a healthy way without prescribing people hormones and invasive cosmetic surgery to make them more like the sex they “should” be according to… social constructs…. and help them be comfortable in who they are

Alright. Its been like 9 fucking months that I have been staring down this ask. What better time than to give TERFs some nuance than right in the middle of a fucking hate campaign going on where people (well... singular person probably) are calling me a TERF. This wont backfire.

This post arrived in my inbox shortly after I made another post about gender, and just how fucking weird it can be, and how I genuinely believed every single person on this planet has a fascinating relationship with gender, and so much nuance and personal identity in theirs. Even cis people. Even TERFs. In the tags, I even begrudgingly encouraged TERFs to talk about their gender on that post if they wanted. I genuinely think that TERFs do have really cool relationships with gender. As I mentioned in those tags, the quickest way to explode a group of TERFs is to get them to start talking about their own relationships with gender, and see how vastly different it is, and watching them stab each other in the back over it. So I told them to ramble away about how they view gender, as long as they stayed the fuck away from the rest of the blog WHICH THIS ANON CLEARLY FUCKING IGNORED.

But... this anon does bring up another topic I want to talk about.

Detransition.

Read More

I am a huge supporter of detransitioning. This is... surprisingly... not a very common stance in the trans community, and it breaks my fucking heart. Like, I get it. I understand why. A LOT of detransitioners, like the person in this ask, end up weaponizing their feelings of gender against other trans people.

My support of transition comes from the intersection of two very central beliefs of mine:

Everyone should explore their gender without feeling a need to commit! This is a pretty common belief in the trans community! Damn near universal in fact! We even have a fun little term we use for people who decide to play around with gender, only to end up a bit closer to where they started and being perfectly happy with that: Cis+. Someone who is cis, but at least put in the work to understand the trans experience, and actually CHOOSE to remain Cis instead of just defaulting to it with societal pressure. Many trans people are much more comfortable around 'Cis+' people, because they know these are people who have taken the time and put in the work of being an ally. Self examination isn't easy, especially not publicly, and doing so is genuinely one of the strongest ways a Cis person could ever show their support.

It is never too late to transition. This is also a pretty common belief in the trans community! It is... sadly not quite as universal though. But it is something very important that needs to be said. You could be 80 years old, sitting in a retirement home, and go "You know what? I think I'd rather wear a dress and be treated like a lady. I don't want to be buried as a man." And I think every single trans person should have that freedom!

I was discussing this with @thydungeongal the other day, far more paraphrased than this post, and she said something incredible that has been knocking around in my head ever since.

"Gender is an ongoing process"

Those five words they said to me sum up my feelings far more than this entire post could. Gender IS an ongoing process. My gender has changed SO MUCH over the past three decades. From the straightjacket of assigned gender that I was once forced into; to the very stylish and still lovable finely tailored suit of femininity that grew a little too stuffy to wear constantly, even though I do still enjoy it and try it on from time to time; to the wonderful and freeing losely fitting clothing of being aegogender, finally feeling free to be myself and just act naturally and feel natural without having to keep up an appearance!

And I think, there is no length of time you can try out being trans, and trying out new genders, before eventually coming to the realization you were cis all along. Even if you started HRT. Even if you got SRS. Heck, I don't even think you should have to call yourself trans to do either of those things in the first place, why would I be upset that someone did them and then realized they weren't trans? No single moment in your life should EVER lock your gender in place into some unchanging, set in stone thing.

So I support detransitioners completely, with my entire heart. They deserve just as much support as every other 'Cis+' person out there.

So anon, while many people may hate you and lash out at you for detransitioning, I want you to know, that I am not one of them. It sounds like your detransition might have been forced by peer pressure, which is heart breaking to hear. No one should ever force their own gender expectations on another. I hope that wasn't the case. I hope you came to the decision yourself, after realizing whats right for you. I will never give you hate for your detransition.

I WILL ABSOLUTELY GIVE YOU HATE FOR BEING A FUCKING TERF THOUGH. YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE WITH GENDER DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO POLICE THE GENDER OF OTHERS, FUCK OFF. GET THE FUCK OFF MY BLOG, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!

#I think I'm gonna start doing that for Read Mores #so you can find your place easier after click it #since my 'style' in these long posts is like... a fairly longish NON-readmore post. followed by the actual readmore. Let me know if it work #text essay #gender #detransition #I uh... also have some more... complex feelings of detransitioning #that may be a LIIIIIIITTLE more controversial......... #none of it goes against what i said here #its more personal stuff with my own gender and how detransition specifically is something that exists not as gender itself #but as the societal perceptions of a persons gender #but thats a more complex topic that I'll add on to this at another date #also I am absolutely taking this ask at face value for the sake of this post #but I am not so naive as to believe that the blatant TERF that sent it was being genuine #this is ABSOLUTELY the kind of thing they send people to drive a wedge in the community #I'm not even going to fucking dignify that part of it with any mention in the body of this post #edit: ........... okay the readmore accidentally moved somehow #I fixed it now though

[ladyluscinia]

Izzy Hands Is Manipulative, But Not That Way

...or I finally finish that long ass meta post about why I love the fucking Navy Plot lol

The Izzy manipulation debate has been really interesting to me pretty much since it started, because I'd see a post arguing he's manipulating Edward and go "No, and he couldn't if he tried" and then the next post would say he sucks at manipulation because he's a blunt fucking instrument and I'd go "Yea- wait. Hmm. No, he can be targeted and tricky as fuck." Which does, on its surface, seem like a contradictory stance, but I swear it works.

Because the thing with Izzy - and this is such a fun thing imo - is there are two core types of manipulation that characters engage in, and Izzy fucking sucks at the one you expect his style of antagonist to focus on. But he's scarily good at the other.

Long meta under the cut, so get comfy.

...

From his role under Edward to the protagonist vs antagonist dynamic setup to his introduction scenes, Izzy is very much invoking the conniving second in command. We know this character from other media. He doesn't have the full power he wants so he's constantly scheming to get it. He can't or won't challenge his boss for some reason, so he settles for being the devil on their shoulder or working behind their back. He's the voice constantly ready to inflame insecurities and turn relationship cracks into chasms, and usually he's lying constantly to do so. His fingerprints are all over his boss's problems up to the moment they show some weakness, and then their loyal second goes right for the backstab. He is THE ambitious manipulator. The shady advisor. The snake.

And then you actually look at Izzy and he is not that guy. In fact, it's a testament to the strength of Edward's character arc how much his evil little henchman is not causing his problems.

So - Izzy and manipulation:

Izzy Can't Convince People To Do Things

Like. He really can't.

This interpersonal struggle is fairly fundamental to his character. And moreover, it's a skill that Izzy is intensely aware that he lacks, so usually he doesn't even try.

In his first episode he walks right up to Buttons and just straight up asks him for the information on his party. He doesn't even resolve to steal the hostages until he realizes that Stede has lost them in the bush already, and Izzy obtains them by buying them. When Stede confronts him they end up splitting the pair in a very above-board negotiation and he pretty much just goes with what Stede suggests.

Then in 1x03, people make a big deal of Izzy "manipulating" Edward by not clarifying that Stede didn't know who he was when he turned down the invite, but kind of importantly he repeats the damning line of the conversation faithfully. If he was going to lie, then why not lie? Why even go see Stede at all? And, if he didn't want Stede dead until after the conversation (understandable, tbh, since "Iggy" was stab-worthy), surely he could invent a better insult to rile Edward up. It makes his omission hit more like being bitchy about Stede not recognizing the obvious - namely that Izzy Hands works for Blackbeard and literally everyone knows this - than a slander campaign to get him killed. And once we properly meet Izzy and Edward in 1x04, Izzy's inability to manipulate becomes his main struggle.

Izzy's a blunt and direct person. He leans on authority bestowed by Blackbeard to take control of situations, playing the role he's supposed to play, and without it he lacks a Plan B. In 1x04 he doesn't have any authority over Edward, so his efforts to get him to take the danger of the Spanish seriously amount to "Well as bored as you might be, if you don't make a decision soon we're gonna fucking die." And this is true! There might be a very subconscious attempt at manipulation in his resignation speech before the "That's Blackbeard. I'm Stede, remember?" line - of the piss him off to get him to get his shit together variety - but Edward literally makes a joke out of it so not exactly effective.

And once Edward stops giving Izzy authority in general, his plan to make Lucius do stuff is still just... brute force. Which works at first when Lucius doesn't realize that Izzy's on his own now, and stops working as soon as Fang breaks ranks. His last ditch blackmail attempt isn't manipulative either - he just plans to tell the truth to Pete and assumes he'll be pissed about it. My guy loses a fight over the pirate equivalent of making an uppity employee clean the coffee maker while the boss is out. Not only does he fail to manipulate the crew in a conniving antagonist way... he doesn't even try.

I mean, the only time he (somewhat) succeeds in talking someone into things is 1x06. Getting Edward to agree to killing Stede isn't really manipulation - Izzy gets Fang and Ivan to back him in a very straightforward way because they all actually do have a stake in this - but he's passably able to push Stede to go through with the fuckery via fake compliments. It's not exactly high level work, though. Stede being vulnerable to ego-stroking / dares is pretty obvious.

So what is Izzy good at?

Well, if you can't make people do anything other than what they were going to do in the first place, you might as well lean into that.

...

Izzy Manipulates Situations, Not People

Situational manipulation is one of those fictional tropes that rarely can happen in real life, but there's not much resemblance because real life rarely gives you all the building blocks for a proper gambit and lets you loose. Too many factors. In narratives, though? It becomes one of my favorite ways of having a character be clever.

And before I get into this too much, a really fun sidenote - I think Izzy does situational manipulation more like the way protagonists do it. See, antagonists are usually emotionally and situationally manipulative (ex: provoking the hero to lash out and using it to frame them for a bigger crime), but it's not a good look when your hero drives the target to do something bad and then punishes them for it. So heroes lean on stuff like Batman Gambits - where the lynchpin of the scheme is the target fucking themselves over by behaving completely in character. They've written Izzy so ineffective at emotional manipulation that he pretty much has to rely on other characters' flaws or histories to cause problems, which has a very similar result. And it's wild.

...

Going back to the 1x03 confrontation in Jackie's bar, Izzy doesn't really do anything abnormal in how he conducts himself, but people are picking up on an agenda for a reason. Namely, the whole damn conversation quickly turns into a trap, and Izzy fully sits back and watches Stede spring it from sheer idiocy.

There's no indication that when Izzy walked up he wasn't going to carry out his task with all the bitchy professionalism expected of him, while probably hoping that Stede would eventually stick his foot in his mouth without Izzy's help (assuming he's the kind of idiot Izzy thinks he is). His first section of this conversation is nearly polite:

Izzy (about the Nose Jar): "I have a few colleagues in there." Stede: "Ugh. You again." Geraldo: "Mr. Hands, welcome. It's been a while." Izzy: "(To Geraldo) Yeah, because I hate this fucking place. (To Stede) But for some inexplicable reason, my boss would like a word with you. Bonnet."

It's not until Stede starts talking that I think Izzy clues in that Stede doesn't actually know who his boss is. He didn't introduce himself until the literal last second of their 1x02 interaction, so it wasn't obvious Stede wasn't literally bolting into the forest in horrified realization.

And Stede? He goes hard on being a bitch right out the gate. Brushes Izzy off, tells him to "get in line", calls him the wrong name, says he doesn't care who Izzy is...

Izzy so far has met Stede in a public place, in front of people who clearly treat Izzy with respect and fear. He doesn't bring up their previous interaction, Stede does. He doesn't even goad Stede beyond existing. He corrects him on his name, and watches it not register in the slightest. The next line is the clincher:

Izzy (slightly incredulous): "So I'll tell my Captain that you're declining then, yeah?"

As Izzy is speaking the conversation becomes a trap - he chooses a reasonable way to refer to Edward that isn't "Blackbeard" and waits to see if Stede will make this worse. The jump from "no I'm busy" to "tell him he has terrible taste in flunkies and he can go suck eggs in Hell" is all Stede, completely ignoring context clues as Geraldo stares on in horror. Hell, Jackie only refrains from later de-nosing Stede on the spot because Geraldo knows what's up, and Stede still doesn't pick up on the fact he should maybe be asking some questions (though I'll give him the knife was distracting).

Izzy returns to the ship, quotes Stede directly for his damning line, and waits to see what Edward will do with it. It's not good behavior on his part (and if he could have seen the future he might have tried worse), but switching mid-conversation to offering Stede an opportunity to fuck himself over is a very different mindset than simply lying to / provoking Stede or Edward to get what he wants. He's mostly being petty.

Stede did insult Edward of his own volition, after all, and just because Izzy fudges the truth to hide he didn't know he was insulting Blackbeard instead of just Izzy and a random stranger doesn't change that. All Izzy did to "escalate" that conversation was give Stede a second opening to do so himself.

But there is a far better example of Izzy masterfully manipulating a situation than this in-the-moment bit of pettiness, so let's move onto my favorite bit... explaining in extensive and slightly awestruck detail why the Navy plot. Fucking. Rules. Because it does. Ready?

...

How to Mastermind the Decisive Removal of One Stupid Fucking Stede Bonnet Over Drinks

Ahem. The Navy plot. Masterclass in intimate betrayal. Izzy's biggest escalation in the total collapse of Edward and Izzy's relationship, but also a completely fucking fascinating glimpse into whatever tangled web of codependency they've got going on, because Edward isn't even mad after 1x09. This wordcount is going to be insane enough without me getting into the Blackhands relationship connotations, so I will... attempt... to stick to breaking down the actual scheme.

And what a scheme it was.

Let's start at the beginning. Jack showing up to lure them into the trap at the start of 1x08? Nope, earlier. Izzy getting kicked off the ship and going to Jackie at the end of 1x06? Further back. Edward proposing the "kill Stede" plan at the end of 1x04, which is the domino that starts all this, right? Closer, but still no.

Izzy's first appearance on screen is in episode 1x02, and that episode is where the seeds of the Navy plot are first planted. See, during Stede's confrontation with Izzy, both of the hostages chime in:

Hostage 1 (Wellington): "Believe him, he's quite insane." Hostage 2 (Hornberry): "He does have the eyes of a madman. Sorry, you do."

Wellington says his line in a tone of voice that clearly indicates a story to tell, and it should also be noted that he is the same one who earlier jumped at the chance to tell the tribe chief about Stede murdering their captain - Nigel. And he's the one that Izzy leaves with, in a sour mood and wanting information about this "Stede Bonnet" character.

When Izzy later reaches out to the Navy, it's no coincidence that he finds Chauncey. He's known since right after their first meeting that Stede was directly responsible for the murder of an Admiral's brother and that the English Navy would know soon enough, since he was literally about to ransom a hostage back to them who would tell the story. And he filed that information away until it was useful or relevant like a clever pirate should.

Moving on to Jackie's bar in 1x03, Izzy gets more potentially useful observations / inspiration. Jackie is actually the first person in the series to make a deal with a naval power. Izzy and crew track the Revenge to the Spanish warship, which means they must see Geraldo sold out Stede to them. Izzy isn't stupid. He knows Geraldo and Spanish Jackie, knows that she's the brains and brawn behind this deal, and has seen enough of Stede that he'd absolutely believe that he did something to get Jackie pissed enough to plot his murder. File away Jackie wants Stede dead and details of how she nearly succeeded in offing him for later.

Izzy spends 1x05 up to the fuckery demonstration observing Stede's crew while waiting for Edward to pull the trigger. I definitely want to note the scene where they interrogate the Frenchman at the beginning of 1x05, because Izzy is staring directly at Stede as he leans away from Edward threatening violence (we know this will later be in his love montage so not actually a turn off, lol, but like... it looked like one). His opinion of the crew is that they like to fuck around without structure (1x05 during the party), probably that they enjoy more standard pirate levels of violence (not shown directly since they are kept out of the 1x05 raid, but fairly obvious), and that they are really easily awestruck by the chance to hear "real pirates" tell charismatic stories (1x06 ghost story).

Any of that sounding like someone we know?

And now to go back to Izzy in 1x06, when he gets sick of Edward being cagey about the plan to kill Stede and decides to "make" him stop stalling, he's straightforward again. Getting Ivan and Fang to back him isn't emotionally manipulative, but it does give him weight in the conversation. They are the ones who bring up the whole "love of a pet makes a man weak" thing, and they do it in the context of calling out hypocrisy. Izzy knows the standards Edward holds his crew to. He lets them convince Edward it's time.

Taking the chance to suggest Stede try a fuckery is a strong blend of situational and emotional manipulation, and later challenging him to a formal duel knowing he'd be overconfident enough to accept is more situational again. Even the terms of the duel are designed to take advantage of the situation. And then Izzy loses in the most comedy way possible, Edward lets him get banished, and Izzy decides that if he was ok with just sending Stede Bonnet on his way to fuck-off before... he's fucking gonna kill him now.

My guy is not a creative thinker, but he's definitely a logistical one. And as he rows away from that ship, all the pieces fall into place.

First, Spanish Jackie. Who listens to him bemoan his relationship woes because she likes him (Izzy gets Jackie in the divorce). Who wants Stede dead and has the clout to summon and deal with a distasteful ally - Chauncey. Together, they concoct an arrangement where a trap will be set and Chauncey gets Stede and only Stede. This isn't a tip-off or a free-for-all. Stede comes from Chauncey's world and they are sending him back. Permanently.

Then it's time for the trap itself, which needs to do two things: get the Revenge somewhere that Chauncey can corner it, and get Edward out of there. And Izzy? Izzy knows Edward. Knows there's one particular person in his past that will have no trouble integrating with the crew, getting Edward to act more like a pirate than a gentleman, and who happens to have a great ambush location on hand.

I've said this before but I'm gonna say it again - I don't think outside characters realize how hard and fast Edward is falling for Stede. The BlackBonnet bonding moments happen almost exclusively when they are alone. The place Izzy dramatically fails to manipulate the situation is not having the evidence he would need to predict Edward going back for Stede. He (and Jack) both think that a precise wedge between BlackBonnet - one that Jack delivers near flawlessly by playing into real issues - will be enough to remind Edward that Stede isn't his people. This isn't a plan to murder the love of Edward's life while his back is turned. It's a plan to get rid of Stede, and remind Edward why he was on board with doing that in the first place. "That's fair," Izzy says about a punch to the face.

Instead, Izzy's plot accidentally backs Edward into a corner and forces him to publicly pull a grand-gesture relationship level-up that he was not emotionally ready for, and the fallout from that explosion is way worse than any of our conspirators were counting on.

Still... you gotta admit. It was a really good plan.

#our flag means death #i still really want to know when fang and ivan showed up to all this #like it's fascinatingly crazy that they looked at allllllll this insanity and were like. this seems like it's between izzy and the boss #did they go with him to find calico jack? did they sit at the table while izzy laid out the whole crew's potential weak points??? #the navy plot #izzy hands ofmd #izzy hands #ofmd meta #my meta #ofmd 1x09 #ofmd 1x02 #ofmd 1x03 #ofmd 1x04 #ofmd 1x06 #ofmd 1x08 #spanish jackie ofmd #chauncey badminton ofmd #calico jack ofmd #stede bonnet ofmd #ladyluscinia

[hannahxhoney]

we don't talk anymore - e. munson

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

eddie munson x female!reader

summary: after years of not talking, you see eddie at a party and things get heated. i suck at writing these lol

warnings: kinda angsty, a little bit of asshole!eddie, cursing, use of y/n, and arguements

fic is kind of inspired by the song “we don’t talk anymore” by selena gomez and charlie puth

also this was written on mobile so sorry if the formatting is off! thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Eddie have always been friends. Ever since you were kids, you and him were inseparable. Long days at the trailer park during the summer, being outside and playing make believe with him. Cold nights in the winter where you would make hot cocoa and watch Christmas movies on your family's beat up couch together. Everyday you spent with him, was always your favorite. Him being about two years older than you meant that all the other kids at school your age would leave you alone, since you were always hanging out with the older kids like Eddie. But you wouldn't have it any other way. Eddie was fun, kind, and so brave that sometimes you felt that his courage would get him in trouble one day. He was your best friend and you were his. There wasn't a day that went by when you wouldn't see Eddie and his goofy smile.

Until now.

It was the summer before you started high school and Eddie was already going to be a Junior. You were excited to go into such an intimidating place already knowing someone. You knew Eddie would help you with whatever you needed, and would even let you sit with him and his friends during lunch. But as the summer went by in a blur, so did that excitement. You didn't see much of Eddie during that summer. He always said he was busy hanging out with his friends or planning his next campaign. You understood, but you still felt disappointed that you didn't get to hang out much during those two months. Before you knew it, it was already August and school was starting in three days. You were still excited that you wouldn't be completely alone going into it, but it all felt weird because you haven't really talked to nor seen Eddie in two weeks. He was never at his trailer when you went to see if he was free and he was ignoring your calls. On the off chance that you did see him, he was still regular Eddie. He was kind and always cracking jokes with you, but your conversations with him were always a quick "hi" and "bye" before he left. Because he always had something to do these days, other than hanging out with you. You started to think that maybe you did something wrong, or said something to upset him.

It was the Friday night before school started, and you were re-reading The Lord of the Rings for the third time, until you heard your mom calling and saying there was someone on the phone for you.

When you got to the phone you were a bit confused, because who would be wanting to talk to you this late at night? Until you heard his voice.

"Hey y/n."

You were surprised to hear from him right now, but happy that he called.

"Hey Eds! How are you?"

There was a beat of silence before he replied.

"I'm fine, but I wanted to talk to you about something."

You were confused what he wanted to say, since you haven't done much talking to him recently.

"Ok, what did you want to talk about Eddie?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I think it's best if we don't hang out anymore."

"Wait what-"

"I don't want to be friends with you anymore, y/n."

It felt like you got hit by a two ton semi truck in the heart when he said those words.

"What do you mean? What's wrong Eddie?"

"I mean that I don't want to be associated with some stupid freshman that follows me around like a lost puppy all the damn time. It's annoying y/n. You always want to hang out with me, but I thought you would get a clue by now since I've been ignoring you. We aren't kids anymore y/n. Yeah we were best friends at one point, but I don't want to be friends with you anymore."

"Eddie, I don't understand. What happened? Did I do something wrong? I-I don't know why you're changing all of a sudden?"

"Look y/n, please just leave me alone and stop trying to call me. I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"Eddie please I-"

"Goodbye y/n".

He hung up. He broke your heart and just hung up the phone, like it was nothing. I guess it was nothing, to him at least. You spent the weekend crying and trying to prepare yourself to see him on Monday morning. You always loved seeing him, but now every time you see his face you're reminded of the time you lost your bestfriend.

It was now your senior year, and Eddie's second. Freshman year felt like hell for you. Having to see his face everyday felt like pure torture, but by winter break you were starting to feel better about it each day. And as you entered your sophomore year, you had made some friends and joined the photography club at Hawkins Highschool. But now, sometimes it feels like you never knew him. He got taller, grew out his hair, and started growing into his rock star look. If you were any other girl, you would have a huge crush on him. But you're not, you know who he actually is. And sometimes you feel stupid that you ever fell for his act and actually liked him. But you grew up too. Puberty hit you hard the summer after freshman year, and you grew into yourself. You developed your own style, learned how to do your hair and the occasional makeup, and developed a wall of confidence that no one can break through. Not even him. You ended up becoming really good friends with Jonathan Byers through your shared love of photography. And when he started dating Nancy Wheeler, you guys got closer too. You would hang out them during and after school, and sometimes even Steve Harrington would join you guys. Since Nancy's little brother is in Hellfire club, you occasionally cross paths with Eddie. He always seems to ignore you, but every once in a while you catch him staring at you. You don’t understand why though, it was his decision to cut things off. Every now and then when it’s late you think of showing up at his door, to really ask him after all this time if he still feels good about that decision but you know that would be wrong. Of course he feels good about it, especially when he has his hands all over a girl at a random party.

Just like right now.

One of the popular jocks at the school - probably Jason Carver - is hosting the usual friday night party tonight and you, Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve all decided to go. Steve already found his girl to take home tonight, a pretty blonde girl who is putting it on pretty heavily by laughing at the jokes Steve is telling that you know aren’t funny. Nancy and Jonathan are outside talking about who knows what, but they always seem to be having fun with each other know matter what they’re doing. That’s why you’re alone in the corner of the room sipping on a mixed drink that is slowly making you feel that warm feeling through your veins. That is also why you catch Eddie’s eyes as he dances with some girl. She’s pretty, skinny, and her hair is dyed a dark blue color. A girl you would typically think Eddie would be attracted too. So why is he still staring at you, when his hands are on her? You don’t care enough to find out, so you walk away looking for something much better to do. To your surprise, you actually end up finding it. So now you’re the one dancing with a random guy. He’s cute, at least cute enough to distract you from whatever was happening between you and Eddie. Plus with the alcohol fairly well into your system by now, you’re even thinking of asking him if he wants to go upstairs. As you’re about to ask said question, you’re suddenly pulled away by the arm by a strong hand.

“What the fuck-“

It wasn’t till you got a look at the long curls of the person dragging you out of the house then you really lost it.

“Munson what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Once you were outside, you pulled your arm away and faced the person that all your anger is directed at right now.

“What am I doing? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Dancing? You’re mad at me for dancing at a party!?”

“No! I’m mad that you’re throwing yourself at some guy that asked me if I knew anyone that had coke at the party!”

Well you didn’t know that. But that doesn’t excuse what he’s doing right now.

“That isn’t any of your damn business anymore, Eddie! Or did you forget the fact that you haven’t spoken to me for years?”

He got quiet after that. You finally looked at him. Really looked at his face and how much he’s changed over the years. You never allowed yourself to really do this before, afraid that it would open up the wounds that took you so long to heal. Suddenly you were a kid again. Waiting on him to say something. You didn’t know how to describe the way he made you feel at the time. But now you do. He was like a drug. After every time you saw him, you wanted more. But then you overdosed.

“Y/n I-

“I don’t want to hear it, Eddie. You were the one who cut things off. You were the one who left me hanging. You don’t get to care about me or stop me from dancing or doing anything with anyone.”

“I just wanted to stop you from doing something you’ll regret. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I don’t understand why you even care, Eddie. We’re not friends, and we haven’t been for years. It’s your fault. You’re the reason why we don’t talk anymore.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

authors note: i know the ending is kind of bad but I just wanted to write something. If you read it all, thank you so much!!! I appreciate you all <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader #angst #beginner writer #stranger things

[ilanarose7]

Bells Hells Episode 95 Morning After Thoughts

SPOILERS BELOW!!! (This has become a weekly thing for me to help digest the episodes and I'm probably gonna keep doing it. really helps with my episode memory as well)

New favorite Campaign 3 episode unlocked!!!! The title of this episode has been released on Beacon (I won't spoil that), but I will personally be referring to it as "Shopping and Shipping" in my own head. It just had the perfect amount of everything and felt so incredibly cathartic (then stressful in the best way) after everything that's happened in recent episodes.

Let's break it down:

The Essek v Astrid verbal showdown!!! Essek appears to hold all the grudges that Caleb doesn't (or at least didn't really at the end of M9). When Astrid dropped the "Ludinus has an itch in the back of his neck" lore I was thinking back to when they first learned more about the harness and someone (I think it was either Marisha or Laura) wrote in their notes "We cut off Ludinus's head!!!" that was later read aloud. After that convo, that action seems like a decent play. That or maybe the Cadeuces-style Dispell Magic to the back of the neck. (side note: of course Fearne bought the Vasselheim version of the Kama Sutra 😂)

NEW CLOTHES FOR EVERYONE!!! We know there's new Dorian art waiting to be released since he rejoined the party, but everyone is getting an Aeor-ready makeover! It makes perfect sense, but I was still thrown off by the level of outfit upgrades and am so excited for the art!

Pumat is BACK! Well, his Simulacrum are at least. I don't care, just hearing that voice made me so happy. And also Dorian giving all his money to Orym so he can buy the armor? So what if I was squealing?

Downtime at the Cabaret ❤️ The Imodna kiss as Laudna went back upstairs. The Callowmoore flirting leads to Ashton, for the first time in a LONG time, successfully pick-pocketing Fearne. Dorian and Chetney banter back in full swing. Fearne leaving the EXU group hug to give Dorym a moment together. going back slightly but Iva Deshin made Bells Hells clock that YES, YOU ALL DO GIVE OFF POLYAMOROUS VIBES! So many character moments that have been needed in such a plot-heavy story

Ashton shows their head off to Essek! I have been waiting for this for sooooo long!!! Allura had given some answers, but talking more about how Dunamancy and the Assembly's manipulation of Dunamis has played a role in everything going on. While the cast know this info out of character, its good that they finally can do so in character as well

Laudna, Delilah, and the Sword-Shaped Elephant in the Room. Well, damn. First off, the acting in this last hour or so was AMAZING!! Also incredibly demonstrative of the level of trust at the table. Now to talk about the moment itself. The line between Laudna and Delilah has been getting blurrier and last night I don't think Marisha even knew fully where Laudna ended and Delilah began. The cast and many insightful Critters have been comparing Laudna to an addict and last night is an incredible example. The way Laudna handled it was wrong, this could have been a conversation rather than an initial attack. But was Laudna or Delilah the one making those choices? Or being manipulated into them? In the moment, the calm approach the group tried to take was the right one, but honestly, Laudna needs a harsher talking-to like what Chetney did with Ashton post-shard incident. Taliesin on 4SD said that's what saved Ashton from leaving the group. It might be something that, other than Imogen's love, may be enough of a wake-up call to help her break away from her Delilah-induced magic addiction

TLDR: The whole episode was full of amazing moments that were cathartic, informative, tense, and heartwarming. THE PERFECT BELLS HELLS EPISODE! again, that's just my opinion. I'd love to hear what everyone else thought too!

#critical role #cr spoilers #bells hells #laudna #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #orym of the air ashari #dorian storm #chetney pock o'pea #imogen temult #new favorite bells hells episode unlocked #c3e95 #so much fun drama and love in one episode

[harrywavycurly]

Can I ask for more random being married to Eddie things🥺🥹💙

Hiiii lovey!! Of course you can get some more random things that I think would happen if you were married to Eddie! I hope you enjoy this and you’ve been warned they are extremely random 😂💖

What I think being married to Eddie would be like, random edition part 2:

You’d have a never ending battle with Eddie and the laundry hamper because you’re just not sure why he can’t manage to get his dirty clothes to land in it at the end of the day, the man just tosses his shirt and jeans to the side when he’s getting undressed and you swear he puts them right next to the hamper on purpose.

It’s him going on and on about a topic you have no knowledge about and him realizing it by just the look on your face and when he stops and goes “you have no clue what I’m talking about do you?” He just smiles when you answer him with a “no but I like how excited you are about it so…go on.”

You’d learn how to drive the van and you’d know all the tricks to get it to work properly when it wants to break down or just simply not start.

Eddie would have no reaction anymore when he walks into the house and you’re in a “cleaning mode” and your favorite band is playing on a speaker that’s sitting on the kitchen counter and you’re dancing around as you dust the living room, he makes sure to just greet you with a kiss and explain he’s gonna head over to Wayne’s because he’ll be damned if he ever has to hear you yell “Edward James Munson I just cleaned this room!” ever again, twice is enough for him.

It’s Eddie dropping by your work on your lunch break because he just misses you or wants to just steal you away for half an hour.

Eddie is your biggest supporter because you’re also his, he can’t even count how many shows of his you’ve been to at the Hideout or how many campaigns you’ve helped him with. He is a proud husband and doesn’t hesitate to drop the classic “that’s my wife” anytime he can.

You’d know by the way Eddie walks up the steps of the trailer how his day was, the longer he drags his feet tells you just how long you’re gonna need to hold him when he hugs you when he enters the house.

It’s how Eddie goes “oh fuck…” when he sees you calling him in the middle of the day and he goes through his mental list of things that you could be calling him about because you’re the queen of just texting him 62836 times in a row if you need something.

Eddie absolutely can not leave the house in the morning without telling you he loves you, shockingly it’s not even a you thing it’s a him thing. He can’t go to work or even run to the gas station without tell you “love you” even if it’s just shouted as he’s running out the door but most of the time he likes to hug you and give you a kiss as he mumbles “i love you” into your neck.

You two still have dates nights because it’s just a fun time the two of your get to just enjoy each others company and half the time it’s just you two getting dinner and going out to lovers lake.

#eddie extras #eddie munson concept #husband!eddie munson #eddie munson x wife!reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson #my little dungeon master baby

[hellfirenacht]

Players Wanted: Session 0

Fic Summary: Various Readers ask to join Hellfire. Eddie Munson x Reader

A new semester meant that Hellfire Club was now open for new members again. It was rare that anyone new joined Hellfire in any permanent capacity during the Spring semester, but not completely unheard of. Grant had shown up in the middle of Spring his freshman year, having been a transfer from outside of Hawkins after all. 

But this wasn’t just any Spring semester, this was the Spring Semester of 1986, baby! This was Eddie’s final year, the finish line, everything that he had worked so damn hard for over the past six years. Nothing was going to stop him, not Higgins, not his dad, not this damn town that was turned against him. 

This was finally going to be his year. 

And with this being his year, Eddie had been working hard on his final campaign. This was going to be his grand finale, one that he had been pouring his heart and soul into over the past few months. The Cult of Vecna. 

Of course, with this being the end of an era for Hellfire Club, Eddie wanted to go out with the best party imaginable. He was going to throw everything he could into this, be as sadistic and hard on his players as he could. They could handle it, they’d been playing with him long enough that he knew exactly what they could handle. His little sheepies weren’t about to back down from a challenge. 

The new semester also meant refreshing club applications for the last time. Normally Eddie didn’t bother, if it wasn’t broke then don’t fix it. The applications had stayed the same over the last few years. HELLFIRE CLUB. ADVENTURERS WANTED. Fill out your name, race, and class and come by the drama storage room on Friday. 

This wasn’t amateur hour though, and Eddie wasn’t here to babysit any new players. For this last campaign, he wanted everyone in his party to be on the same level, same playing field, same knowledge of the rules, so a little tweaking was in order. 

ONLY EXPERIENCED ADVENTURERS!

If he was going to be completely honest with himself, even if someone showed up with minimal knowledge he’d probably still let them in. He needed to train the future leaders of Hellfire how to handle the next generation of Freaks anyway. Jeff wasn’t the most patient with newbies, but he’d have to learn. Gareth was also starting to ask questions about DMing now, and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how Hellfire would fare after Eddie’s graduation. 

If someone showed real interest, then they’d be allowed in. Which brought Eddie to the second new addition to the application. 

*Give this completed form to Eddie Munson in the Hawkins highschool lunchroom 

There. He’d had his share of bogus applicants in the past, just trying to be funny and waste his time. If you were going to join the Freak Show, you were going to show up center stage and ask the Dungeon Master himself. 

Satisfied, Eddie took the stack of applications and set them on the table in the main hall of the high school, next to the other stacks of applications for all the other clubs in school. 

As he turned the corner to head to his first period, he didn’t notice another person pick up the Hellfire Club application... 

Welcome to my mini series! Each chapter will have a different type of Reader asking to join Hellfire club! I am trying to keep it to one type of reader per chapter, so one Shy, one Popular, one Cheerleader, one Freak, etc! However I really want this to be interactive, so either fill out the form and drop it in my inbox or leave a comment to let me know what kind of Reader you want to see, and you’ll get more likely to be picked if you give me more detail! 

-----

Master List

And if you’re thinking “Rachel, don’t you have like, 4 other series you should be working on?” think about other things instead, please. 

Welcome to Hellfire. 

#nacht fic #Eddie Munson x Reader

[interstellar-wanderer]

Theory about The Ghoul/Cooper: Highly influenced and vulnerable to dishonesty.

Cooper Howard trusts deeply in the people he loves and the idea of the American Dream that was sold to him during the Sino-American war. He fought for those ideals, his country and the people he loved, and before the Great War and drop of the bombs he can't stand any other perspective for his own sanity.

The problem is, he is not a very good actor you see. He usually creates the character of a highly dignified cowboy because it is a projection of what he wants for himself, an ideal version of a man, openly criticizing the choice of the character not doing what he would do in real life (shooting someone), and in his other movie, he plays a role of a man with a dog, with the help of his own dog and not another random dog, I believe because he wanted to portray his own relationship with his loved pet rather than a random role.

He lives his characters and roles, to the point of turning one of them when becoming the Ghoul, this lone cowboy and bounty hunter hurt by his past and tired of the cruelty and dishonesty around the Wasterland.

He uses his emotions and all his heart for his roles and forgets everything else because through his roles he is showing a part of himself in the process, but with the consequence of leaving nothing to protect himself, because he has never created a facade around his person, he is honest and true, th same way we see The Ghoul as he is, no lies nor attempts at dishonesty; he is clear with his intentions to the very end.

But because of this, Cooper is vulnerable and ignorant to true deep dishonesty, to someone who would straight up lie to his face, to someone living two parallel life at the same time. He prides himself on knowing his wife's true motivations and never thinking bad about her, he also sees Lucy and believes her just as transparent but never thought of her surviving SnipSnip.

When Barb showed her real colors during the Vault-Tec meeting, declaring they should drop the bombs themselves, he broke in such a way he went into shock. One would believe he is in fact a good actor, and would try to be good in hiding it, but I would say Barb was a better one by playing two roles at the same time God knows how long and Cooper suspecting nothing of such. This happens when:

1) she convinces him to pose as Vault boy and be part of their promotional campaign

2) then when she invites everyone to the wrap party to their house without telling him, subsequently not showing remorse at him being abandoned by his Hollywood friends

3) then gatekeeping him regarding her status as worried housewife during the war in Anchorade and how stupid his idea of a ranch was

4) ultimately convincing him to accept his dog should go (something we all know made him suspect of Vault-tec and her), for the sake of their security.

But this caused a drift between them, him starting to suspect something was up when she told him they wouldn't be safe if they buy a bunker themselves because it wouldn't work, then trying hard to "put everyone in one of the GOOD vaults, one which would oversee all others".

This is when his world started to crumble. Not only her lying, but she not trusting him enough with the real truth of their situation, manipulating him instead with a dishonest facade.

The worst part is that it is very likely she knows this about him, his soul is rooter in honesty, fairness, and dignity, do the right thing the same way Lucy envisioned before coming out of Vault 33. He doesn't expect his wife to lie to him or represent a version of the world he fought against, he doesn't expect his country to betray him regarding their safety.

We can understand now why he became such a bitter man, and why he seems to avoid the old version of himself.

Maybe he thinks, if he had known, if he hadn't trusted so damn much, if he hasn't been so vulnerable and hasn't opened his heart expecting the same back, maybe he could have done something to stop it all.

Now every time he looks back, he seems to hate the man he was so very much.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout #fallout theory #fallout spoilers #fallout amazon #fallout the ghoul #mytheory

[ebongawk]

The first time she said it, he thought maybe it was just a slip of the tongue or something.

"You're so pretty, Eddie."

They were sitting together at the picnic table, textbooks and homework spread out in front of them that Chrissy was diligently doing and Eddie was diligently ignoring in favor of making notes for his next Hellfire campaign. They'd been unlikely friends for a few weeks, Chrissy having come to him in search of drugs and instead found a tentative kinship with a fellow freak in the woods.

He looked up at her, feeling how rounded with surprise his own eyeballs were as he let out a guffaw of disbelief.

"I think that's my line, Chrissy. But a lowly jester sitting at the queen's court, I am meant to compliment your beauty that rivals the very essence of springtime. Not, uh, the other way around."

She giggled a little, but her eyes were still roving over his face. Searching for something, though Eddie had no fucking idea what.

After a minute, she shrugged, returning to her history essay.

Eddie just kinda figured that was that.

"Gosh, you're pretty," she said again a few weeks later.

He was riding the high of playing for her – finally, Jesus Christ – and laughed loudly enough for the entirety of the Hideout to hear. Still incredibly sweaty, he'd just jumped off the stage to come greet her immediately after their set finished.

Those were the first words that fell past the lips he'd spent more time than he cared to admit dreaming about.

"Damn, not even, 'Wow, Eddie, you're so good at guitar' or anything?" he jested, trying to shrug off her compliment with a joke. She beamed at him, giggling when he pitched his voice to try and match her dainty way of speaking. "You wound me, Cunningham! Am I not rockstar material?"

"All rockstars are good at guitar!" she cried in defiance. "But not all of them are pretty!"

"Not all rockstars are good at guitar! What about the bassists and the drummers and the singers?"

"That's not the point," she huffed before giving him that star shine grin that wrapped his heart in a fist and choked it until it was beating with the same resonance as her name. "But, um, you do play guitar really well, too."

That, he kinda figured, despite counting up all her little accidental compliments like rosebuds trying valiantly to bloom, should've been that.

But it was not.

"Eddie," she sighed, leaning heavily against his shoulder as they watched some stupid made-for-TV movie through the haze of their shared high. "Do you know how pretty you are?"

They were sprawled across the dingy couch in his trailer, snacking on popcorn – Eddie munching on, like, fifteen kernels to Chrissy's every one. He hadn't even realized she was looking at him.

Jesus. She was so close. So beautiful. Her pointy little chin pressed against his shoulder, staring up at him like he was a sunrise and she'd never before seen daytime.

"Me?" he scoffed, trying valiantly to buck the urge to kiss her. Fuck if he didn't want to, though. But that was, like, some law of the goddamn universe or something. Earth's magnetism sustained the gravity that kept everything from floating into space, matter cannot be created or destroyed, and Eddie Munson desperately wanted to kiss Chrissy Cunningham.

"Yes, you."

"Sweetness, have you looked in a mirror?" he asked, trying not to dwell too long on the verbal vomit that was this sudden introduction of a pet name. "You're a fucking knock out. Starlight in human form. Comparatively, I'm basically a gelatinous cube."

Though the D&D reference was lost on her, it did nothing to deter the sudden spark of fire behind her reddened eyes. In a move that stole the actual breath from his fucking lungs (since she already had the heart from his chest), Chrissy was swinging her leg over his and pulling herself into his lap.

Repeat for emphasis: into his fucking lap.

Both of her perfect, tiny little hands came up, gently cupping his jaw as she stared him dead in the eyes. Storm clouds meeting forested brown across burning coals.

"I may be starlight or springtime or whatever else you want to call me," she said, her voice taking on a severity he'd rarely heard from her. Not since she told Jason and his goons to leave the Hellfire kids alone a couple weeks ago, just before miraculously ending their monarchic relationship in front of the entire school. "But that doesn't negate the fact that you are also pretty."

"Uhh." She was way too fucking close for him to think clearly.

"Just accept the compliment, please."

He'd swallowed his tongue or something. Responding to her simply wasn't possible. He no longer had a voice box; it was lost in the ether of his weed-addled body. He just stared wide-eyed at the woman of his dreams who was currently straddling his lap and holding his face and opening up a variety of daydreams he'd had about this exact scenario, though not anywhere near under these circumstances.

A knock at the door broke them apart, someone calling through the door about pizza delivery, and Chrissy begrudgingly climbed off of Eddie to let him pay for their dinner.

He couldn't really let himself hope that she hadn't wanted to move.

"So pretty."

They were lying together in his bed, sweat still cooling on their spent bodies. Each of them turned onto their sides, eyes absorbing one another's nakedness as though still uncomprehending of how they'd made it to this moment.

Or, at least, Eddie was.

It was two-thirty in the morning when a frantic knocking had awoken him from a decently peaceful sleep. He'd stumbled out of his bedroom, expecting to find... well, he didn't even know. Something that most certainly was not Chrissy Cunningham, standing in her pajamas and tennis shoes, clutching the stuffed cat-bug-thing he'd won her at the Fourth of July fair two weeks ago with tears in her eyes and a determination set in the rigid line of her jaw.

(The plush was, admittedly, almost a little creepy, but also extremely cute, and it was the only thing Chrissy had gushed about for a full week, so.)

She'd barreled past him into the living room, bouncing on her toes and teeming with anxious energy that made his throat close and his eyes prick with tears unrelated to his interrupted sleep. It felt like she was here to slice his heart in two or something. It took true, actual willpower to shut the door and give her his attention.

"Uh, hey, Chrissy, what––"

"I love you," she blurted out, blinking like she hadn't expected those words to come out of her own mouth. Lips twisting, she pushed on, refusing to allow her admission to hang between them for even a second. "I'm, like, completely in love with you, Eddie. And–– And I've waited for you to notice, but you haven't, and at first I thought maybe you didn't like me back, and that was okay! Or, it–– it had to be okay, right? Because I valued our friendship so much. But then, at the fair, we were talking, and you mentioned that you liked someone, but you didn't say who, and I was so heartbroken that I cried for, like, three days, and then Nancy told me that I was being so dense, because of course you liked me, but how could that be, because you never said anything! And I thought I'd just come here and tell you because I can't keep it in anymore, Eddie, I can't––"

Her rambling had only cut off when Eddie finally found the strength to fucking move. He crossed the scant distance between them, cupping her jaw in his hands and pressing his lips to hers in a messy, imperfectly perfect kiss that tasted like pretty springtime starlight.

"Of course it's you, Cunningham," he'd rasped when they finally pulled apart. "It's been you my entire goddamn life."

They crashed into his bedroom after that, cat-bug-thing and tennis shoes and pajamas discarded in favor of skin and lips and hair and whispered promises caressing fevered flesh.

And now, she was gently caressing the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek, the shell of his ear, and whispering, "So pretty," into the few inches of mattress between them like it was a brand she could sear into his very soul.

His first instinct was to shy away, to deny, to turn the compliment back on her and remind her that she was, in fact, the absolute definition of beauty in this world and every other galaxy. To tell her that sunlight fell from her hair and oceans crashed inside her eyes and every freckle dotting her skin was like a fresh raindrop on dewy summer grass.

Instead, he caught her hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to her palm, her thumb, each of her fingers, and whispered,

"Thank you, baby."

#hellcheer #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson #stranger things #chrissy x eddie #hellcheer drabble #chrissy cunningham #cw weed #weed mention

[pb-dot]

Some Thoughts on the Reddit Blackout

Like many new arrivals on Tumblr these days, I used to be a Redditor until recent developments encouraged me to take my business elsewhere, and I have been following the development of the story as thoroughly as I can without actually giving Reddit any more traffic. With the most recent development of the Reddit admin corps taking on a suite of strategies lifted straight from the depression-era railroad baron playbook, I figured the time has come to talk a little about the wider implications of this whole story.

The Tech sector is, to the best of my understanding, in a vulnerable place right now. After the Web 2.0 gold rush and years of consolidation and growth from the biggest actors, your Alphabets, Twitters, Metas, and so on, many of the larger sites and services are reaching the largest size they can expect to grow to. How, for instance, could Facebook or Twitter grow much more now that everyone and their mother is on Facebook and Twitter? Prior to the Musk buyout, Twitter seemingly settled on upping engagement, making sure people were on Twitter longer and invested more energy and emotion in the platform, usually by making damn sure the discourse zapping through that hellhole was as polarizing and hostile as possible. Meta, meanwhile, has been making bank on user data as advertisers, AI folks, and any number of other actors salivate over getting their hands on the self-updating contact and interest registry that is Facebook.

With the rise of what we apparently have decided to call AI, data is now more valuable than ever. I consider this to be yet another Tech Hype Bubble on the level of NFTs or Metaverses, but, like with the two above, I can imagine it's hard to explain that when you are a Tech CEO and your shareholders ask you "Hey, how do you plan on earning us money off of this AI/NFT/Metaverse thing?" This is not to say CEO Steve Huffman isn't handling this whole thing with the grace of a three-legged hippo, but merely to suggest that his less-than-laudable decisions and actions in this mess don't arise from his character alone but also is a result of wider systemic issues.

One of these issues is the complicated role user data plays in modern websites and -services. Since its inception as a publicly accessible space, the question of how to monetize the Internet has been a tricky one for site and service owners. Selling ad space on your website or service has long been the go-to, but this in itself presents its own issues, having to curate content that is considered ad-friendly, malicious or careless actors making using said service or website less attractive for customers, and finally how to convince your advertisers that they get what they pay for in the first place, ie. "how do I know people even look at our ads?" All of this is before you even stop to consider how ads massively favor large, established actors.

It's no small wonder, then, that several startups in the era of internet mass adoption chose to forgo ads, or at least massively deprioritize them and/or relaunch them as "promoted posts," in an attempt to escape the stigma around ads. Meta/Facebook is probably the biggest fish in this particular pond, but we also see other services such as Twitter and Reddit follow the same pattern.

What makes this work is that the data these platforms collect from their users isn't all that valuable on a person-to-person basis, knowing that so-and-so is 32 years old, lives in a traditionally conservative part of the city, goes to Starbucks a lot, and listens to Radiohead isn't particularly useful information for anyone but a dedicated but lazy stalker; When viewed as an aggregate, however, large collections of data on a large population becomes quite valuable. This is especially true if you're working with, say, targeted ads or political campaigns. Look no further than the Cambridge Analytica data scandal for an example.

Now, all this is to illustrate the strange position the user occupies in Web 2.0. We tend to think of ourselves as the customer of Facebook, Reddit, Tumblr, and so on, but it isn't the case. After all, we don't pay for these services, and if we do it's to buy freedom from ads or other minor service modifications. It is more correct to say that we make up the product itself. This is true in two respects, first, an active social community is vital for social media to not be entirely pointless, and second, we generate the data that the platform holder seeks to monetize. This hybrid product/participant role doesn't map cleanly to traditional understandings of "worker," but I argue it is a closer fit than "customer."

All of this is to say that it is immensely gratifying to see the Reddit Blackout taking the shape of a strike rather than the more typical boycott model we've seen in the internet-based protests of yesteryear. Much of this, I think, we can thank the participating Reddit moderators. While the regular platform user can be *argued* to be a worker, the moderator inarguably is one, and the fact that they aren't paid for their efforts is more a credit to the prosocial nature of humans than to the corporate acumen of the platform holders. Either way, moderating a subreddit is work, if the subreddit is large, it's quite a lot of work, and moderators keeping malicious actors, scammers, and hatemongers out of everyone's hair is a must for any decently sized social space to not be an objectively terrible experience. So, if you were to, for example, withhold your labor (moderating for free) which you as a worker can do, it would be plain irresponsible to leave the place open for said bad apples to ruin everyone's bunches, thus the shutdowns.

I don't think it's a controversial take to claim that the Reddit admins also view this more as a strike than a boycott, given their use of scabs, intimidation, and other strikebreaking tactics in an attempt to break the thing up. This is nothing new, and the fact that Reddit admins are willing to stoop to these scumbag tactics tells us that their bluster about the shutdown not affecting their bottom line is nothing more than shareholder-placating hot air.

As this entire screed has perhaps demonstrated, I believe the Reddit Blackout is important. My stay at Tumblr so far has been excellent and will probably continue past this strike no matter what outcome it has, but for others in my situation, or perhaps entirely alien to the Reddit biome, I ask you to consider: If we do not stop this level of consumer and user-unfriendly bullshit Reddit have been pulling on the API change, where will it pop up next? Who's to say the next bright idea in corpo-hell isn't "Hey boss, how about we charge these nerd losers a dollar per reblog? And maybe a fiver for a Golden Reblog (TM)?"

This is perhaps getting into grandstanding, but I believe we are way past due for a renegotiation of what it means to be a platform holder and -user on this hot mess of an internet. If we as users do not take an active, strong stance on the matter, the Steve Huffmans, Elon Musks, and Mark Zuckerbergs of the world will decide without us. One does not have to be a fortune teller to see that the digital world this would create would not have our best interests in mind any more than the current one does.

So, in closing, I wish to extend my wholehearted support to the participating Moderators of Reddit and everyone who has decided to take their business elsewhere for the duration of the shutdown. Even without getting into the nitty-gritty of the API situation, this is a fight worth having, and may we through it make a world that's just a little bit less shitty.

Become Ungovernable

Become Unprofitable

Stay that way.

#reddit blackout #reddit #long reads #Oops my hands slipped across my keyboard a bunch #Tech #Peebs thinks #capitalism #fuck capitalism #big data #information technology

[masayomi]

i just finished reading Betraying Big Brother: The Feminist Awakening in China by Leta Hong Fincher and during this part where the author discusses the central role woman played in the development of revolutionary thought and activism in the early 1900's and the eventual founding of china's communist party (part of her broader argument that women's rights in china have actually decreased in the last 50ish years) this passage really stuck out to me:

Liu argues that the “liberated” images of women presented through Socialist Realism and the bare faces and colorless uniforms—designed to further the goal of equality—“end up denying difference to women.” “The category of women, like that of class, has long been exploited by the hegemonic discourse of the state of China,” she writes. “In the emancipatory discourse of the state, which always subsumes woman under the nationalist agenda, women’s liberation means little more than equal opportunity to participate in public labor.” Ding Ling joined the Communist Party in 1932 after her husband, the author Hu Yepin, was murdered by the Nationalists. She was then kidnapped by the Nationalists and kept under house arrest for several years until she escaped to Yan’an, which became the Communists’ base after the Red Army completed its legendary Long March to escape Nationalist forces. As a prominent Communist Party member, Ding Ling renounced writing about sexuality and romantic love and embraced the Socialist Realist form of literature for the revolutionary masses. Even so, for International Women’s Day in 1942, Ding Ling vehemently criticized the Communist Party’s gender politics in a damning essay about the Party’s treatment of “women comrades.” “When will it no longer be necessary to attach special weight to the word ‘woman’ and raise it specially?” she began. She discussed the pressure on women comrades to marry, as single women were the target of “slanderous gossip”: “So they can’t afford to be choosy, anyone will do: whether he rides horses or wears straw sandals, whether he’s an artist or a supervisor.” Ding Ling pointed out the Party’s double standards, with its expectation that women have children, only to deride the same women for “political backwardness” and insufficient devotion to the revolution. “I myself am a woman, and I therefore understand the failings of women better than others. But I also have a deeper understanding of what they suffer,” she wrote. “Women are incapable of transcending the age they live in, of being perfect, or of being hard as steel.” She called on men in the Communist Party to consider the suffering and “social context” of their female counterparts: “It would be better if there were less empty theorizing and more talk about real problems, so that theory and practice are not divorced, and if each Communist Party member were more responsible for his own moral conduct.” Party officials accused Ding Ling of having “narrow feminist” feelings and holding “a nonrevolutionary view of the relationship between women’s liberation and class struggle,” according to Rebecca Karl. In retaliation for her criticism of the Party, Ding Ling was fired from her position as editor of a literary journal and ordered to re-educate herself. She later recovered politically, only to be sent for re-education among the masses during the anti-rightist campaign in 1957 for speaking out about women’s “double burden”: “Women were celebrated in their public role as ‘iron women,’ for their heroic contributions to production. Meanwhile, they were forced to silently struggle with household chores.”

all men across literally all of space and time, no matter their race, religion, or political views, have relied on women's physical and intellectual labor to prop up their movements then turn around and denounce them for not meeting their standards. never forget that any male-centered political movement, no matter how feminist it may seem, will find its own way to exploit women

#radblr #radical feminism #feminist literature

[avelera]

Random thoughts on the D&D movie in no particular order:

I loved the jokes. All of them. All the stupid jokes. I was their target audience and they succeeded at making me cackle at dumb shit while my partner's soul left his body

The landscape shots were breathtaking and honestly made me tear up at the beauty in places. In the theater, I remember thinking, "Yeah, FUCK yeah, these guys understood the assignment!" Nine out of ten times, I think fantasy should be animated, because if you don't pour millions into the budget, the action looks like crummy LARPers wearing silly costumes in the woods. This movie understood that if you're doing live action fantasy, you owe your audience some damn beautiful landscape shots and damn did they deliver on some beautiful landscape shots.

(cut for spoilers)

I sincerely appreciated Holga and her husband being divorced but still amicable. I'm so tired of the trope of exes being evil or awful. They just seemed like two adults who wanted to love each other but the circumstances of being together doomed them from the start. It was played for laughs but it was just a moment I genuinely enjoyed as divorcee. I also loved her ex's new wife looking exactly like her, both for the gag, and for what it said about both of them being each other's type even if it didn't work out.

I also cackled like a hyena at Holga's halfling fetish while also finding it rather sweet and enjoyed imagining all the reasons why she might have that preference lol

As a basic Drizzt Do'Urden loving bitch, I squeed when I saw Icewind Dale on the map. Then I had a moment between that and the Underdark of wondering, "Am I gonna see him? Even in the distance? Am I going to see my first love, Drizzt Do'Urden??"

And then I realized: the Paladin. The Paladin is Drizzt. Only good person who came out of a nation destroyed by evil. Too good for this world, too pure, to the point of being sanctimonious but is also a hottie. Xenk is Drizzt.

Oh, I also squeed when I saw the Underdark.

I appreciated how knowledge of D&D improved certain story beats (like the gelatinous cube or the displacer beast) but wasn't required to enjoy the plot. That's how references should be done.

The most agonizingly cringe moment for me was when Holga was dying. Just. I appreciated the beat. It couldn't go any other way. They delivered on their set up with the tablet, the only question was ever, "Who besides his wife is going to get saved with it?" And it made perfect sense who it was. I'm glad they didn't try to pull a fast one. But the scene was like... 10 seconds too long of her dying for me to not roll my eyes. We know you're going to use the tablet on her, dipshit, please keep this moving.

BUT I think the reason they did it was to land a sincere moment with the daughter, and I appreciated that. I think the scene could have been improved by Holga being like, "Don't you fucking dare use that tablet on me!" and then smacking him when he did it anyway and then he'd have to explain that he set out to save his daughter's mother, not his wife, who has passed on, etc etc. but I'm not sure that would have been much better so maybe the drawn-out opera death scene and the sincerity was better in the end idk.

I KINDA wanted to see the actors as the players playing D&D BUT I know why they didn't and it was a wise choice, it undermines the drama too much to say it doesn't matter because it's a game. Maybe if instead they'd should the characters playing D&D in universe as normal humans? Idk

I thought there'd be more Xenk? I thought he'd be in the arena with them? A little bummed but I also loved his GM NPC energy.

The combat and camera work was great! Genuinely enjoyable and well made, I appreciated the artistry that went into it.

Loved the bardic distraction scene for truly capturing the chaos of a D&D party's attempt at breaking and entering

Loved the portals bit for truly capturing the strategy and planning that can go into a functioning D&D campaign's clever heist, even if I'm sure it would have taken 5 sessions to plot out IRL

Honestly, it was just a fun, solid film! It's been a while since I've seen such a fun, solid film! I would buy it and put it on in the background to just enjoy and not angst over it! It was worth the price of admission, it was faithful to the spirit of D&D instead of sneering at it the way the early 2000s one did, and I had a good time! It wasn't the highest of art but it would have been weird if it had been! I liked it a lot!

#DND #honor among thieves

[mayumiiyuu]

Eddie x reader

Where she hits a bully with a lunch tray because they’re making fun of Eddie for something stupid because she don’t take none of that shit

I love violent reader insert

A/N: i too, love violent reader insert, with all my anger issues (which I should prolly talk to my therapist about) I too would smack anyone with a lunch tray if they made fun of the love of my life.

e. munson || violent delights

tw: mentions of (well deserved) violence against douchebags

While you were relatively new at Hawkins, only having lived there for about two years when you transferred in your sophomore year of high school, you had earned quite the reputation for yourself as none other than the badass of Hawkins High.

It wasn’t that you were mean or unnecessarily cruel, the basket ball team douchebags had already taken the title as bullies of the school anyhow, it was just that you were frank, brutally honest, and utterly allergic to bullshit.

You didn’t bother with the stupid made up rules about cliques being unable to mix, despising the social hierarchy with all your heart and soul, you were friends with the people you wanted to be friends with, from all different sorts of groups. From the funny band kids to some of the less pretentious, nicer cheer leaders, to even some of the nerds that played dungeons and dragons, you only ever made space in your life for genuine people, people who could be their most authentic selves without worrying about the status quo.

Your reputation as an absolute badass first started when you called out your old, racist, sexist, homophobic, and all-things-a-bigot-was English teacher who gave you a backhanded comment in class when you wrote about how F. Scott Fitzgerald was a shithead who basically plagiarized his wife’s work and plastered his name on it when you were supposed to do an in-depth essay on The Great Gatsby and it’s themes involving “the American dream”. You smirk at the memory of him basically cowering at your feet when you called out the fallacies he had used when you debated with him.

But, you had officially earned your title when you broke a jock’s nose by slamming his stupid face into a locker when he had made a sexist remark at you right before he tried to lean in an swap salivas with you.

You had been sent to detention that day, and that was the fateful day you had made acquaintances with with a certain metalhead. After telling him your reason of being there, he had applauded you, inviting you over to his club to join in on one of his campaigns. Unable to refuse as you had wanted to get to know him more, you agreed.

From then on, you found yourself constantly within the company of Eddie Munson.

You liked him, with his whole eccentric personality, witty remarks, and weird sense of humor, you had become friends with the boy fairly quickly despite his outcast status—which, of course, you didn’t give a damn about. He made you laugh the hardest you had ever felt, stomach aching to the point you swore if you laughed anymore you’d grow a six pack; he was someone you often sought out for to have some of the most interesting, thought provoking conversations. Despite his carefree demeanor and utter lack of concern for his academics, you had observed that Eddie was actually really smart, able to dismantle societal concepts with his disdain for conformity, hell, you even admired the guy for his open mindedness.

Though you had made friends, you could only ever really count them on the fingers of one of your hands, as people were too intimidated by your blunt demeanor to approach you. That, combined with your resting bitch face, made it hard for people to view you in a warm and welcoming perspective.

But you had decided long ago that whoever was too intimidated by your aura and sharp eyes weren’t worth your time. If your reputation and the rumors they had heard of you honestly made them hesitate to befriend you, they weren’t people you wanted in your life anyway.

Currently, you sat at a lunch table with Eddie and the other members of Hellfire, throwing your head back in laughter as you cackle at one of Eddie’s snarky jokes about the popular crowd.

As if they had heard him, Eddie’s own sworn enemy stands from his seat and makes his way towards your guys’ table.

Ever the observant one, you had spotted him get up from his seat, by scanning his body posture with his clenched hands as well as the look of contempt in his eyes, you silently prepared yourself for battle.

As he saunters over to the table, a few of the other basketball jocks following behind him, you let out a tsk.

Didn’t even have the fucking balls to come here himself, no, he had to bring in reinforcements.

The glare you send him almost makes him want to turn back and torment the D&D nerds another day, but since he was a man with his pride on the line, he very idiotically ignored his gut feeling.

You intertwined your fingers together, propping your elbows on the table as you rested your chin on your hands, eyeing his movements carefully.

The others quickly catch on, the freshmen, who you knew as Mike and Dustin, quickly avert their gaze and freeze like deer in the headlights, as if Jason Carver was a T-Rex: he can’t see you if you didn’t move.

But if Jason was a T-Rex, you were motherfucking Godzilla.

He flashes them his signature smile before Eddie rolls his eyes at him.

“What do you want, Carver?”

“Oh y’know, just wanted to see what the freak show was up to—hey, didn’t anyone tell you guys the circus left town the other day?” The blonde says sarcastically as his goonies laugh at his weak ass joke.

You stay silent, thinking that maybe, just maybe, in that pea sized brain of his, he would somehow find some common sense and realize what the hell he was getting into.

“Fuck off, will ya?” Gareth replies, exasperated from the jock’s incessant attempts of intimidation and bullying.

“And the geek speaks!” Jason cries. “What, you guys feeling brave now that (last name) is sitting at your table?”

Eddie stands, his form most definitely towering over Jason’s, in order to defend his friend.

You only pay half attention to whatever Eddie says to him, glare glued onto Jason, laying patiently, silently in wait for that jackass to give you a good reason to knock him into next Tuesday.

Whatever Eddie says to him riles him up more than Jason reckoned.

The blonde laughs, the sound devoid of any amusement at Eddie’s words.

“Why don’t you take you and your satanic cult and get the hell away from here, yeah? Or, better yet, why don’t you jump off a bridge? Doubt anyone’ll miss you,” every word that comes out of his mouth makes you want to claw his eyes out. “You’re nothing but a freak, Munson, no one fucking wants you around. Bet your parents left you with your uncle because they couldn’t stand to see what an utter disappointment their child was—or, maybe they couldn’t find it in themselves to love a freakish monster like you.”

Good, you thought, that sentence was reason enough for you.

You grab your lunch tray, lowering in order for him not to catch onto what you were about to do next.

You plaster a smile on your face, which had him somewhat fooled. He smiled back at you warmly.

“(y/n), come on, why don’t we escort you away from these freaks,” He starts, gesturing you over to him and his friends.

Tch, typical meathead jock, not a single thought in his brain. Had he seriously not noticed the look of pure death in your eyes?

“Of course,” your voice is nauseatingly, sickeningly sweet that it sends a shudder up Jason’s spine. “But, first—“ were the last thing Jason heard before you lifted up your lunch tray high in the air as you swung it at him, hitting him smack dab on the face.

He lurched backwards at the force you had hit him with, blood coming out his nostrils as his friends caught him before he could land on the floor.

Too bad, you would’ve loved to see that.

Eddie and the rest of your friends are absolutely stunned, while at the same time admiring how gracefully and effortlessly you had just attacked the captain of the basketball team.

As Jason somewhat regains his consciousness, he wiped the blood that had started to dribble from his nose onto his upper lip, panic and shock written all over his face.

You bend your knees slightly as you lean in towards him, his so called friends too chicken to even try to defend their captain from your wrath.

“Next time you try that shit again,” you start, placing the lunch tray down on the floor. “It’ll be the last thing you ever do, mkay?”

He stammers, hands shaking under your vicious stare.

“Nod if you understand.” You say, ensuring the message got to him loud and clear.

He gulps, nodding his head slowly.

“Good.” You state, flipping your hair as you waltz your way back to your seat, sipping your apple flavored juice box.

The whole cafeteria looks at you with the same and utter shock Jason had just given you, murmuring to themselves about the scene that had just unfolded while Jason was basically carried by his friends that acted like his crutches.

Eddie sits down and exhales. “That, was the single most amazing thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life,” he looks to you, veneration in his eyes as he chuckles. “All hail (y/n)!”

The group continues to chant Eddie’s statement, banging their fists on the table as they praise you. You roll your eyes playfully at their antics before standing up to take a bow.

Suddenly, you freeze, and all commotion in the cafeteria comes to a halt as a well dressed man strode his way towards you.

Through all your time in his office, you recognize the man instantly.

“Principal Higgins,” Mike breathes out as he glances towards you worriedly.

“(y/n), to my office, now.”

You turn around slowly, slumping your shoulders as you follow his orders.

“Yes, dad.” You groan inwardly.

But as you catch sight of Eddie giving you a smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief, you can’t help but feel the pride swell in your chest.

Detention, suspension, community service, or even having to clean up the garage, whatever punishment your father had in store for you would be worth it.

#eddie munson #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic