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#► I'm beyond repair let me be (villain)
pluviacuratio-a · 2 years
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@sleepdeprxved whispered: “you’re the best. d’you know that?”
MEME
{ ♪ } -- Lilith huffed a little sigh, smiling at her friend. Gentle fingers moved to brush over Phobos's hair... Though, she supposed it was safe enough to use her real name. Bella was often overly cautious, never knowing what any given quirk could do. But... Here in the hideout, it was likely safe...
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"Nia.. You've had too much. Come on, let's get you some water and then we'll head to bed. I'll stick with you until Skeptic comes around."
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belokhvostikova · 6 months
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𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | With the seed planted, Operation Eddie Munson Must Die falls into plan, as—despite your dismay—a double date is secured with Winnie Ambrose, and Small-Town-Hottie Steve Harrington.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, tiniest mention of drugs, alcohol consumption, bits of arguing, insults, overall disrespectfulness, brief moment of a creep, mentions of past bullying, mentions of STDs, and explicit sexual content: oral (male receiving), cum eating, and protected vaginal sex.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Apologies in advance, I found that as I wrote it just kept getting shittier, and shittier. So if it's bad, I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm doing. Also desperately wanting to make Reader the villain, and have Eddie end up with a girlfriend... who knows :) Big thanks to these lovely anons (you, you, and you) for the plotline suggestions!
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 16.2K
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two.
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲
“God, I told you- I told you just how much of an asshole he was!” The front door shut with a slam, as Winnie’s handbag went flying to the couch in an adrenaline rage. 
Your bottom plopped alongside the discarded purse, where you made the rash endeavor to release your ankles from the tight imprisonment of strappy heels that left your feet sore beyond repair. “C’mon, Winnie, I knew since the first time he left you crying that he was an asshole.” 
With your fingers attempting to mitigate the soles of your feet, your tired eyes had a hard time keeping up with Winnie’s rampant pacing, as the concoction of a martini plus Eddie Munson had her on a buzzing thrill. 
“And you!” Her finger projected to you, tight hands coming to clutch onto your shoulders. “You were incredible! Waving him off, and whatnot! Truly, if it was me, I would have been in his bed by now!” Winnie violently shook your shoulders. “God, he was so desperate, a-and crazy- god, Y/N, you made Eddie Munson crazy!”
“Oh, please, c’mon, Win, Eddie’s not stupid.” You shoved her hands off. “You even said he does this to every girl-”
“Not chase them!” Winnie urged. “For the love of God, he ran into traffic! Eddie Munson doesn’t chase, we chase- I, embarrassingly enough, chased him! That’s his whole game, but you- he went after you!”
You exhaustedly sighed, shoving your fingertips into the skin of your temple. No matter how enthusiastic Winnie’s words came out, your rationale merely vindicated his motives as nothing but self-indulgent and the furthest thing from interest. “Winnie, what kind of girl doesn’t swoon over a big, really stupid gesture? Like I said, Eddie isn’t stupid.”
With a pop, Winnie sunk to her knees, reaching eye level, as her’s unsettlingly burned into yours. “Y/N, believe me, I know Eddie more than you do,” but you knew his type more than she did, “he wanted you. Hell, he’s probably thinking about you right now!”
“Oh, fuck, baby, feels so fucking good, pussy feels so fucking good.” Eddie Munson clinched his eyes closed, as his hips punctured each thrust with a sticky slap of wet skin. 
“Mm! Eddie! Please, don’t stop, ple-”
“Sh! Don’t talk, don’t fucking talk.” His voice grunted, as his heavy hand muffled Santina Rodrigo’s whines into the pillows of his bed. “Just let me fuck you- fuck this pretty pussy until you can’t speak.” The words rolled off his tongue like a studied script. 
If you weren’t going to be in his bed tonight, someone else surely was.
His thrust became harsher. Bumping into the ripple of her ass, as her back curved to the gluttony of her body that just wanted more, and more. Pounding breaths were ripping through his flared nostrils, with pellets of salty sweat bleeding into his mouth, as a firm bite to his lip kept his moans at bay. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby. Eddie, I’m gonna-”
“Cream on my fucking cock, show me how good I’m fucking you. Scream it, sweetheart.” His stomach cramped with each fervent squelch of his dick ramming into her cunt.
You blinked. “You really think he’s thinking about me?” A shy smile unwarrantedly invaded your face. 
Winnie jumped with joy. “Yes! He totally is!” She squealed. “But don’t you dare let that get to your head.” Her hand suddenly came in contact with your forehead. 
“Ow!”
“That’s like strapping steak on your chest, and going into the lion’s den. If you’re not ready to fully face the charming wrath of Eddie Munson, you need to tell me now!” Christ, that accusatory finger was degrading you again with its vicious point. “Okay, you can’t fall for his shit!”
“I- no, n-no, I’m ready, like, so, totally ready.” Your face became stern under her glare. “Yeah, um, very much ready.” Your voice quieted. 
“Remember Y/N, it’s guys like Eddie that get girls to think they’re so datable.” Her eyes dragged to the back of her head. “Okay, all this ‘oh, you’re so special, I’m obsessed with you, I’d do anything for you’ is a little bullshit game that gets girls to fawn over him.” She mocked with such a guttural voice. 
“Fuck, you’re so perfect! Perfect just for me! Cum, baby, cum all over my fucking cock.” Eddie’s voice cracked through gritted teeth, as his hands painfully molded to the fat of her ass, squeezing until her skin was tender. 
“Yeah, baby? Fuck, I’m cumming! I’m- aughhh!” Santina mewled into the rumpled sheets that soaked with her perspiration. 
Eddie didn’t give her a minute to spare, as her scalp suddenly burned with the brutal grip of her hair in his hand. Her body nearly collapsed, as she trudged through the attempt of supporting herself on trembling legs, when Eddie forced her face to his body. The stretching of rubber slapped off his cock, as he haphazardly discarded the condom onto the expanse of the bedroom floor. 
“C’mon, baby, open up, lemme cum down that fucking throat.” Her head could barely confirm his request with a nod, before Eddie shoved his length down her airway, with a thick gag to harshly pair with his deep groans. 
Spit slung down the curve of her chin, doubling the stains that had previously bled themselves into his dirty sheets from a week of late night endeavors catered to different women, but always ended the same. 
And Santina Rodrigo was no fool, she was fully capable of grasping the reality of Eddie Munson. 
Which is why this night would end differently. 
“Yeah, I know, which is totally why this date isn’t happening.” You proclaimed. 
But Winnie Ambrose has other plans. “Oh, no, it totally is.”
“What?” You jumped from the couch. “What happened to the, y’know, ‘Eddie wants what he can’t have,’ going on a date with him is giving him exactly what he can’t have?”
Winnie sighed, a shake of disappointment came with the sympathetic look she burdened you with. “Oh, you poor, innocent thing.” Her manicured hand patronizingly caressed your head with pets. “Y/N…” her breath deepened, “…this is all a part of the plan!” She exclaimed. “Remember, you give and you take. Leading Eddie on will only grow his feelings, but never fully giving in will leave him wanting more! This is the basic principle of dating!”
“I don’t like this kind of dating.” 
“Well, it’s what’s gonna work! We have to take him down!” Her hands harshly dug into your shoulders, bulging eyes of crazy staring into your soul. “And we will not back down! Say it with me! We will not back down!”
“Our neighbors are going to think we’re crazy, Winnie.”
“C’mon!” She incited you. “We will not back down! Eddie Munson will come down!” Winnie Ambrose truly had to be drill sergeant in her past life. “We will not back down! Eddie Munson will come down-”
“-Your throat. F-Fuck, gonna cum down your throat. Just keep gaggin’ on my cock, baby.” Eddie held a tight grip to Santina’s head, her hair now in an irreparable state of dishevelment from his unyielding grip that gave him the leverage to pummel his cock down her constricting throat. 
With his balls tensing under the thick globs of spit that squelched his cock towards that buzzing bliss, Eddie suffocated Santina’s nose with the curls of his pubes, as his heavy grunts announced his orgasm, with streams of salty spurts invading her mouth. 
“Mm, fuck, yeah, better swallow that shit down, fuck.” He slowed his movements, until his cock pulled from between her raw lips, as her tongue lapped up the strings of saliva that clung to his dick. 
And here it came. Like clockwork.
“You okay, baby?” A caressing hand; pivotal for the illusion of caring. With his thumb gently stroking the breadth of her cheek, softly swiping the remanments of a blowjob from her lips, Santina Rodrigo melted into his touch. Next, words of affirmation. “Did so good for me, baby. Fuck, that was incredible.” Eddie Munson smiled. “Was that okay for you? Not too hard? You can tell me, sweetheart, want you comfortable, beautiful.” Something to flutter the heart, every person likes being cared for. And with a tired mouth too exhausted to confirm her contentment, Eddie went in for the kill. As Santina peered up at him with the roundest eyes to appeal to him, Eddie cemented this act of love with an intimate kiss on her gleaming forehead. 
It was quite profound, actually. 
Something about his large build hovering over, so easily chalked up to the roughness of man actually being vulnerable enough to express affection. It would have any girl swooning. 
Eddie Munson knew that, but more importantly, Santina Rodrigo knew that. 
So, as his back laid against the cushion of his pillows, his fingers reached for a cigarette to ease his mind of the inevitable downpour of cries that were about to be spewed his way. But the sudden movement beside him had his eyes connecting with hers, Santina. “Listen, sweetheart-”
“I’m off work Saturday.” With his sheets covering her once exposed breasts, she sat with her head held high, eyes unfaltering. 
“I-”
“I understand you put on the theatrics for your gain, but I don’t want it, unless you mean it.” Santina smiled. “Really mean it.” 
Eddie’s brows cinched to the center of his forehead, where his mind blanked at the unheard of bluntness from his—what was supposed to be—one night stand. “What are you getting at here, sweetheart?”
“I want a date on Saturday.” She asserted. “C’mon, you really think I would just let you fuck me, and move one?” Eddie’s face twisted with the laughter that smacked his face. “Grow up, Eddie. This act can’t last you forever.”
His thoughts were invaded with the tumultuous mix of unwanted astonishment that—as much as it pissed him off—sparked a little curiosity in his dazed mind. A laugh scoffed past his lips. “A date? Okay.” If it meant another easy fuck, who was he to give that up over a simple date. 
“And no bullshit, Eddie.” Santina affirmed. “If I’m going to be allowing you to fuck me, it’s just going to be me.”
Eddie laughed. “Hold on now, baby, this,” his finger maneuvered against the space between them, “has only been a one night thing, you can’t, um, you can’t expect me to just stick to one pretty girl, now, c’mon, sweetheart.” He proffered a sly smirk that had her rolling her eyes. 
“None of which will be as good as me.” Her confident stature had Eddie sucking in breath through his teeth-bitten lips. “And you’ll realize that quite quickly, but far too late for me to ever care for. So, Eddie, I suggest you clean yourself up nicely for this date. I don’t like anything cheap.” Stunned, he watched her naked body emerge from his sheets, as she quietly gathered her clothes. Her hand found itself wrapped around Eddie’s chin, nails digging into his skin to keep him face-to-face. “If I were you, I’d reconsider this whole ‘noncommittal’ act you like to screw girls over with.” She smiled, soft breaths against his lips. “I’m different Eddie, and you’re going to respect that. Goodbye.” Santina brandished her lip gloss to his lips with a wet kiss, before her heels clicked their way out of his apartment. 
Eddie Munson blinked, screwing his eyes closed, as he scoffed in disbelief. “What the fuck?” 
“Alright, alright, we’ll take Eddie Munson down.” You shoved your hand over Winnie’s mouth to quiet her voice, only for her muffled squeals of excitement to bleed through. 
“Okay, okay!” She jumped with adrenaline, a bright smile to pair. “We have to be methodical, Y/N. Simply going on the date with Eddie isn’t going to cut it. We have to make sure you’re the only one dating Eddie. He’s never gonna take this seriously, if he’s still seeing other women. We have to cut off the source.”
“The source?”
“The source that makes Eddie Munson so dateable!” She huffed so obviously. “We have to make Eddie undateable.”
“Right, make the tall guy with nice hair, who plays lead guitar of his own band, and just so happens to be known as the man who can make any girl finish undateable. Yeah, that seems totally plausible.” You deadpanned.
Winnie Ambrose sighed. “When will you learn to never underestimate me?”
Next day by brunch, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, Winnie found herself sipping on one too many mimosas, and with the boredom of her lonesome company and the once baby blue polish that was mindlessly chipped to nothing, her endeavors brought her the social setting of Marie Ann’s Nail and Spa. “He gave you what now?!” Suddenly, the nail tech was hesitant to touch Winnie’s fingers.
“Mhm.” Winnie solemnly nodded, as the other women amongst her gasped. “At first, I thought it was just regular discharge, but then it just got worse, and worse!” She dramatically exclaimed. “And then suddenly, I was in pain, it hurt to pee, and I was getting these awful fevers.” Her acting twisted the faces of the fellow patrons to concern. “So, I did what any girl would do, and I went to the doctor, and what do you know it: the clap!”
“And Eddie Munson gave it to you?” Shirley Brinkle, with her toes soaking in the warm water of her chair, massage setting on, interrogated with her manicured hand clutching her necklace. 
“Yup! I mean, he was the only one I’ve ever been with.” Quite the act. “And it checks out, y’know, with all the girls he’s been with, and whatnot.” Winnie fought to hold back a smile, as the ladies around her nodded in agreement. “So, I’m warning you. Do not get with Eddie Munson. He’s, like, a total walking biohazard.”
And it had worked… for some time. With how notorious the playboy had been, word spread quickly through groups of girlfriends who once gossiped about the sheer size of his cock, now having hushed conversations to stay clear of said cock. So, that evening, when Eddie had found himself in flirtations with the lady at the gym, who just looked too good in her gymwear to pass up, his confidence faltered at her sudden departure, when her friend stared him in his eyes, and whispered to her friends. Like, so motion, Eddie heard the quiet word slip from her mouth, “gonorrhea.” Panic.
But rule number one in warfare: never underestimate your opponent.
That Monday to come, Winnie dragged herself through the streets of Indianapolis to clock in her hours at work, though when passing the empty bar that saw its busiest attendance on the particular Saturday nights Corroded Coffin would perform, her body halted. Retaking her steps back, her sunglasses raised, eyes squinting to see if she was really seeing what she was seeing.
Posted on the window, “END THE STIGMA: Let’s talk about gonorrhea.” Eddie and his stupid face plastered on a poster was enough to make Winnie scoff. “Saturday night STD fundraiser! Live show included, here at The Albatross!”
“That conniving, little bitch!” And, of course…
“While an advocate, I, Eddie Munson, do not have gonorrhea or any sexually transmitted diseases.”
And just to rub some salt into the wound, “So sweet, isn’t he?” A stranger—a pretty one at it, too—voiced her admiration to Winnie, as they gazed upon the poster. “He’s, like, the only guy I know who would care about a cause.” 
Damn it, the bar was in hell.
But while Eddie Munson may have gotten the upper hand in this round, he and his confidence in his system of juggling girls could not anticipate the events of Black Tuesday.
-
On Tuesdays like such, customers found little time to meander in the relaxation of the coffeehouse, as midweek work obligations called for the swift in-and-out transaction. 
You quite like Tuesdays like such. 
When little visitors frequented, your boss would tune up the small radio that allowed soft music to linger about, where it once would be drowned under the cacophony of shouting patrons, who took to vividly expressing their lives in conversations.
Spurt. Spurt. You hummed to the voice of Billy Joel, as the fragranced cleaner invaded your noise with lemony pinewood, providing that sleek gloss to the wooden table tops, as your damp rag smeared across the perimeter. Too ingrained with mimicking the tunes of “Vienna,” you hadn’t paid much mind to the chime of the door bell, simply throwing out the usual, “I’ll be with you in a minute,” as you continued the task of swiping away leftover crumbs of pastries that accompanied the light splatters of spilled coffee. 
But turning on your feet to reach the register fell short, when you were suddenly face-to-face with Eddie Munson. “You’re quite hard to get a hold of… Y/N.” Ever so slightly, the sardonic tone of his voice curled his lips upward. 
With a lump caught in your throat, you made the rash decision to merely walk away to the counter, screwing your eyes shut at the sound of following footsteps that stomped behind you. You cleared your throat. “What can I get you?” 
“A date.” He nonchalantly nodded. “As you agreed.” 
“Uh, no, I di-”
“Y’know, after asking you out, I came by Sunday to make plans for our date.” He interjected, as your eyebrows shot into the creases of your forehead. 
“Didn’t work Sunday.” You blunted provided.
Eddie hissed, shaking his head. “Yeah, much to my disappointment.” His hand came up scratching the shavened skin of his cheek. “Though, also kinda lucky.” He laughed off, leaning in close. “Had some mess to deal with, all fixed now, so if you hear otherwise, it’s a lie.”
Oh, Winnie.
You suppressed the bulging of your eyes, and waved off his attempt at a conversation. “What do you want, Eddie?”
“I already told you: my date.” 
“Can’t. Busy.” You turned your back to wipe off the counters that you had already cleaned before his arrival, though luckily, he didn’t know that. 
“Alright, so I’ll accommodate. When do you get off?” With his forearms against the counter, his biceps bulged against his constricting arm sleeves, and maybe, just maybe, Eddie tensed his arms to let those veins pop, as you faced him again.
Annoyance was beginning to bubble in your chest. With what few customers did visit, all seemed to have a stick up their ass with their disrespectful attitude towards you, and you weren’t exactly keen to play into Eddie’s games. “Look, you forcing me to say yes to date, because you did something absolutely stupid is not me actually wanting you, okay? So, unless you’re going to order something, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
Eddie propped to his extended height. “Hey, alright, look, you’re right, I’m sorry.” His ringed hands landed on his chest. “That was real stupid of me, but I meant what I said Saturday, I do have this funny, little feeling that you’re special, so can you really blame a guy?” You wanted to slap that smile off his face. You probably wouldn’t even be able to count how many times that one liner was used on other women, and your face showed it with the scowl that took over. “Alright, so you can blame me.” He laughed. 
“Get out.”
“Hey, no, I’d like a latte, please. My usual, c’mon, Y/N, you know my usual.” Ugh, you did know his usual. 
“It’ll be $5.” 
A scoff chuckled out from his mouth. “What? It’s usually $3.10.”
“Not today.” 
Eddie laughed in disbelief, as he reached for his wallet, slapping two $5 bills onto the counter, and sliding them over. “The extra five is for you, feeling generous.” He cockily shrugged. Degrading and patronizing? To hell with it, you were a service worker, of course, you took the tip. You once again turned, given another distraction of actually concocting his order to find reason not to entertain him. “Think the universe is in my favor, no? Came in Sunday, you weren’t here. Came in Monday… you weren’t here. Why was that anyway?”
“Had class. Got the night shift.” 
“Ah, so you go to university. See, look at us, we could be getting to know each other just like this, but on a date.” You despised the soft laughter that echoed through your nose, something Eddie surely had picked up on with the large smile that took over his face. “But then y’know what? Came in on this fine Tuesday, and what d'ya know? Third times a charm, here you are.” 
“Unfortunately.”
Eddie laughed. “Oh, you’re funny.” Oh, Christ, you were smiling. Thank god your back was turned. “You like the movies, got a favorite film.”
“Hate them, actually.”
“Alright, well, what about dinner?” Eddie proffered. “Got a nice restaurant in mind, could order you some nice steak, ooh, the lobster is always incredible. 
“Don’t eat meat. It’s disgusting.” You lied.
Eddie rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Y/N, sweetheart, you gotta work with me here.”
“I quite literally don’t.” You slid over the plastic cup of coffee. Winnie would be so proud of you. 
“Ooh,” he hissed, “I actually wanted this for here.” Eddie matched your movement, sliding back the latte, as his eyes never left yours. 
You sighed, shrugging your shoulders to match his considerably cool apathy, when in reality you were ready to hurl your guts over the mortifying experience of having to talk to a guy like him. “Well, you should have specified that. Too late now.” You shoved the cup back. 
Eddie smiled that sickly grin, leaning in close enough to have you cowering below him. But your eyes stayed staunch to the confidence you were trying to exude, never forfeiting the staring contest he forced you into. “C’mon, just tell me what I gotta do to get you on a little date with me. What’s it gonna take?” His head tilted with that devious smirk. 
“Well, maybe…” you sincerely sighed, “...if you would just leave.” You round eyes peered up at him.
A guttural laugh bubbled in his chest, as he blushed down with a suppressed smile. “I’m being serious.”
“And who says I’m not?” You smiled back. 
“Alright, look, it’ll all be on your terms. Your wish is my command. Anything you want.” Eddie laid his cards out flat on the table. 
You swallowed thickly, regulating yourself through the heavy breathing of a long sigh that escaped from you. Realistically, being one-on-one with someone like Eddie was a set up for disaster. As embarrassing as it is to admit, you’d only survive this far with the words of Winnie Ambrose playing into your ear, coaching you through the complexity that is Eddie Munson. You give and you take, and so far, the easiest thing was taking away, and even that had your stomach twisting with the gruesomeness of anxiety that left your mind on overdrive with intrusive thoughts. 
What did Eddie Munson think of you? How much of an embarrassment would you make out of yourself suddenly falling into his trap? No, you were better than that. This wasn’t going to be another Dalton Barron moment- ugh, Christ, you don’t even want to think about him. Okay, so you learned from your mistake, it won’t happen again, just don’t trust Eddie Munson. Yeah, don’t trust Eddie Munson. Surely, anyone would agree with you on that one. But what if not trusting him puts him off? What if that’s what drives him away, and Winnie’s plan ultimately fails, because of yo-
“C’mon, Y/N, I think you’re gettin’ a little too into your head here.” He swayed in his stance. Your face frowned, clearly not appreciative of how easily he read that. 
“I don’t- I just don’t want to go on a date with you.” You softly answered, watching his head drop in defeat. “At least, not alone.” He slowly peered back up in interest. 
Eddie nodded to your suggestion. Was it ideal? Definitely not, it’d be quite difficult making the moves on you with people around. But if it meant getting you out with him… “I got a friend.” His fingers snapped at the sudden revelation that hit him. 
“A friend?”
“Yup.” His lips popped with emphasis. “Pretty good looking guy, y’know, nice hair n’ all. Family’s loaded, too, he’s working at the law firm his dad owns back in my hometown.”
“You’re not from here?” You questioned.
Eddie smiled. “See, you’re totally interested in gettin’ to know me.” He teased an eye roll out of you. “But, no, to answer your question, I’m not. Hawkins, in fact. Pretty small town about forty minutes out north west from Indy. A little shitty- well, actually, a lot shitty,” Eddie chuckled, “but it’s quiet at night, which I’ve always liked. So, if it’ll make you a bit more comfortable,” he leaned over, “why don’t you and that roommate of yours come out to Hawkins to hang out with me and my buddy.”
Your eyes softened at the request, as your heartbeat slowly dissipated to the calm rhythm it once was pumping at, before Eddie ruined that for you. “You- you’d be okay with Winnie coming?”
“No.” He laughed. “In fact, I think bringing an old hookup—who just so happens to hate my guts—to a double date sounds absolutely miserable, but I’m willing to be miserable if it means getting to be with you.” No salacious smirk this time, spoken matter-a-factly even, which somehow felt more unsettling. “Hopefully Steve can entertain your friend enough for me.” Eddie shrugged. 
“Steve?”
“Harrington.” He finished off for you. “Quite the ladies man, in fact, so I’m sure he’ll have no problem agreeing to this.” Then, Eddie whispered close. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t steal you off of me.” He winked, before grabbing his drink to take a couple steps back. “You get off by, I don’t know, five?” You couldn’t even fathom words at the moment, only meeting him with a small nod that mindlessly controlled itself. “Perfect, then let’s say about eight. Real casual, nothing too crazy. The Hideout, it’s a little bar. In Hawkins. My treat.” He smiled. “Have a nice day… Y/N.”
Eddie Munson had become quite obsessed with saying your name. 
-
“Steve Harrington? Sounds like some boy-next-door sitcom name.” Winnie laughed, as her mouth crunched down on the handful of chips that stuffed themselves down her mouth. 
“Eddie said he was really good looking, though.” You sat by her propped feet on the coffee table. “And- and, he’s in the whole lawyer business thing.” You offered. 
“He’s a lawyer?” Winnie’s interest piqued at the sudden monetary value of Steve Harrington. 
“Well, Eddie said he worked at a law firm, not entirely sure what he does, but you could totally find out if you go, please, pretty please.” You begged. “Don’t let me go by myself, you know I won’t be able to handle it, I’ll probably panic and say something stupid, and this whole plan will come crashing-”
“Okay, okay.” Winnie gave in, folding over the plastic of her chip bag, as she rid herself the crumbs that stuck around her mouth. “You know what? You’re right, we have to get this date going.” She urgently stood. “We have to go all out. What are we thinking? Skirt? Maybe a dress? Ooh, I’ve been meaning to bust out my new Vivienne Westwoods-”
“Wait, no, Eddie said this was supposed to be casual.” You stopped her. “Just some bar, I think by the sounds of it, in his hometown.”
“Eddie’s bringing you to his hometown?!” Winnie halted, face contorting into the dozen creases of dumbfoundedness. “What the hell?! The first time I got with him, I asked for his last name, and he told me not to push it. Had to hear it from some other girl he was screwing. Holy shit, Eddie Munson’s whipped for you!”
“What? N-No, he’s not.” You tried appeasing her shock. “It’s just like a convenience thing, y’know? For his friend, I assume.”
Winnie laughed in disbelief, shaking her head to dispute your claims. “Oh, this plan is so going to work!” She cheered. “C’mon, we have a first date to ruin!”
By 5:45 P.M, your bathroom steamed with the hotness of condensation, as the aromas of scented body washes and lotions clung to your body. Unlike the preparations of Saturday night, ‘dressing casually’ proved difficult for Winnie, who opted to rummage through your closet. “Ugh, don’t you have anything lacey?”
“Is lacey really casual?” You wondered, as you hopped into your shorts with a shimmy to get them from around your ass.
“It is to me.” Winnie whined, flinging articles of clothing you knew she’d never clean up. 
“What about my maxi skirt right there?” You proffered.
Winnie examined the layered sheer material. It was a sage green. She quite liked green with her auburn hair. “It’s not too hot for this?” She hesitantly questioned.
“Totally not! Enough flow for some airway.” You sold. “Plus, pretty easy to slip off for Mr. Lawyer.” You teased, at least something funny enough to get her to smile.
“Oh, I shouldn’t- well…” You laughed at her contemplation, as you both fell comfortably in the pile of clothes in your disorganized bedroom. “Maybe if he’s, like, really hot. Like, River Phoenix hot. Ooh, that means I should definitely wear my push-up bra, wherever the hell it went.” You dug for a thin sweater to throw on. “No, but wait, would that make a slut?” You laughed at her question. “Like, royal slut for sleeping with two friends?
“Who cares, Win. Have your fun.” You offered in return, watching her shoulders relax. “Eddie’s doing it, anyway. Why can’t you?”
Winnie gasped. “You would sleep with Eddie Munson?!”
Your mouth fell open. “W-What? No, I didn’t say that, like, a-at all. I just- I meant dating.”
“Okay, but would you?” Winnie teased, poking at your belly to rile you up.
Your mind blanked, mouth falling dry through your stutters. “N-No, I don’t even like him like that. You- it’s you making me do this, remember?” You defended. “I wouldn’t have even talked to him if it wasn’t for this idea.” It’d be best if Winnie Ambrose never learned the identity of your mysterious coffeehouse crush that was discovered to be Eddie Munson. Even then, all those barely there, absolutely not deep, totally juvenile feelings vanished when learned that not only had he been sleeping with your best friend, but apparently all of Indianapolis. 
“Well,” Winnie sighed, trusting your word, “you’re stronger than most. Which honestly, is the only thing keeping this plan working, because let’s be honest here, Eddie is going to try to sleep with you sooner or later.” Your stomach churned. “But, remember we can’t let that happen. Best way to go about it is to be, y’know, calm and collected. Brush him off effortlessly.”
“Okay, calm and collected. Like I don’t care. Just be indifferent.” You detail your understanding. 
“Exactly, but don’t totally wave him off! The only thing reeling him in is your slight interest.” You felt like your head was about to explode. “So, just take notes and remember to be caring and passionate. He’s gotta know you’re feeling something, y’know?” No, you don’t know. “But then,” oh, Christ, “you gotta learn when to hit back, okay? Eddie’s an asshole. You know that, I know that, everyone knows that. And that filthy mouth of his is bound to say something gross to get a reaction out of you. So, stand your ground, be proud and aggressive. He’ll easily walk all over you if you’re meek.”
“Okay, well, I rejected him, now I’m going on a date with him, so he thinks I’m “interested,” I just don’t know what to do next.” You frowned in frustration. “This is all a lot, y’know?”
“C’mon, you’ve dated before-”
“Yeah. Though, it was only one, singular, y’know… Dalton.” You groaned, pressing the heels of your palms into your eye sockets to suppress the memories that were trying to hash out that anger for the closure you never got. 
“Exactly!” Winnie snapped with emphasis. “You’ve been down this road before, you know what to expect. And people like Eddie and Dalton need to pay up for what they’ve done! So, don’t strike yourself out, we are women! We are feminists! This is for feminism!”
You huffed out a sardonic chuckle. “I don’t think that’s what feminism means, Winnie.”
“Okay, well, we’re both young women, who are hot as shit, and are not going to let some gross dudes ruin us!” She declared. “So, when you go on this date, you play it aloof. Don’t give him everything, but give him enough.”
“Like what?”
“Like, if he compliments you, don’t shy away, you take it!” She explained. “Oh, and the three seconds rule! You wait three seconds to answer him when you’re talking.”
“Doesn’t that seem a little redundant?” You brows cinched in question. 
“No, it totally works for me!” She protested.
“Winnie,” you sympathetically sighed, “you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Ugh, look, if I wanted to keep them around, I would, because that three seconds rule works! Makes me look cool, Y/N.” Winnie sassed in protest. Before you could retaliate a teasing comment to her skewed views of dating, a knock at the front door had cut your conversation short. “I’ll get it.” Winnie huffed, throwing your maxi skirt in the mountaining pile of clothes, before heading out. While you could, your shirt had shimmied itself off your body to find comfort in a sweater that would suffice for the whole ‘I don’t care’ look you hoped to exude with this forced upon date. Suddenly, Winnie’s feet could be heard shuffling as quickly as possible back to your room. “Fucking flowers?!”
“What?” You questioned, as you fixed your hair from the mess that de-clothing caused. 
In the crinkle of brown tissue paper and twine, a dozen stems of pastel tulips stood lively in Winnie’s hands. “He went full Netherlands on you!”
“Eddie?!” Your brows jumped in perplexion. 
Winnie scoffed in disbelief. “Who else would be E. Munson?!” She pulled out the small envelope that propped itself within the tangle of flowers. You stood from the floor, grabbing the pretty bouquet, as Winnie shuffled to slide the card from the paper encasing. “Ugh, ugh,” she cleared her throat. “To ease your mind, something as pretty as you, Y/N. Let me do things properly, give me a call to pick you up: three, one, seven, blah, blah, blah. Gag.” Winnie rolled her eyes. “Sending you flowers, while taking you to some dingy bar, how chivalrous.” 
“W-Wait a minute,” you snatched the card from her hand, “what? Am I supposed to ride with him now?” Your finger skimmed over the felt-tip pen that bled Eddie’s number to the cardstock of the note.
“No.” Winnie snatched the card, ripping it in half.
“Uh- Winnie! This was actually a little sweet, c’mon.”
“Remember, we’re playing this cool!” She urged. “You already agreed to this date, you can’t feed him more. You’re not accepting any of this- well, keep the flowers, they’d look quite nice on our mantel. But don’t call him, okay? We can drive ourselves. And, like, what the hell? Did he just expect me to tow behind? He, like, totally didn’t think of me at all.” Your brow slowly lifted at her. “Alright, alright, I’ll shut up about myself.”
-
Through the static voices of Skid Row over the radio, you turned about the creased map every which way, trying to read the barely eligible highways with their too tiny of a font names. “Oh, okay, it’s Exit 13A.”
“How far away is it?” Winnie held the steering wheel under a tight grip.
“Um,” you peered up. “it’s right there! Winnie, right lane! Go to the-”
“I’m trying! This slow bastard isn’t moving!” She screamed.
You reached over the console. “Your blinkers!” A quick flip to the handle clicked on the indicators. “They won’t know unless your blinkers are on!”
Meanwhile, Eddie’s foot had anxiously tapped to the ticks of the clock, as his thumb nail was facing the repercussion of his nervous gnawing. 
Where the hell were you? It was nearing a quarter to eight, and your expected phone call hadn’t come by. No bounce of his knee, no hand through his hair, no pacing around could ease the nerves that pissed him off, because he so ardently waited for your call. He stood from his couch, quickly making his way to the phone, but no matter how desperate that itch was telling him to call instead, it all fell into a lost cause, as Eddie didn’t know your number. Eddie didn't know Winnie’s number. Hell, Eddie didn’t know any woman’s number. They called. Not him. Never him. Well, he could go over to your apartment- no, that was on another level of desperation that Eddie felt was too pathetic to ever let his pride commit to. 
“Augh,” he groaned in annoyance, as those anxious nerves were beginning to be taken over by anger. “What a bitc- mm.” He restrained himself with a gruff. “What am I- what am I doing waiting around? Fuck this, I’ll get someone else.” Eddie raged under his breath, as he snatched his jacket, and stomped his way out of the apartment. 
Your eyes followed along the passing trees, as the prussian blue of nighttime was beginning to feed into the amber glow of the leaving sunset. Hawkins had been nothing but a straight highway of nonbeing, as Eddie’s words came into existence: it was quiet at night. Rocks skipped under the fast turning wheels of the car, as you approached the faded sign welcoming you into the solitude of Hawkins, Indiana. When rows of woodlands finally ended, you were met with the expanse of cornfields. 
“So…” Winnie dragged out. “How exactly are we supposed to find this bar?” She questioned, as her eyes fell on the long road ahead. “Maybe we should have taken up Eddie’s offer.” You shot her a look of disbelief. “Okay, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, but seriously.”
“Eddie said it was a small town, so I’m sure it won’t take too long. Just look out for bar, preferably with any sign at says ‘The Hideout.’” 
“The Hideout… The Hideout.” She ticked, as she drove wherever the roads guided her. 
Through the unintentional exploration of the suburbs and downtown areas, your destination was found through the environs north front of abandoned diners, lonesome laundromats, and a dilapidated trailer park where rusted car parts littered the dead grass against man made driveways. 
The neon sign buzzed through its draining power. “Some first date.” Winnie groaned, taking in the foundation of stained bricks. 
You shrugged with the bit of optimism you were clawing to hold on to. “M-Maybe it’s quaint.”
“Yeah, for a bunch of hillbilly, old dudes with beer bellies.” She grouched, as her legs dragged her out of the car. You swiftly followed, choosing to subtly cower behind her, as you both loitered the makeshift parking lot of what was just tire tracks and haphazard parking. “These guys better be here already.” Winnie rolled her eyes. Nothing but the running engine of a burgundy Bimmer buzzed through the chilled atmosphere.
And it hadn’t been until the engine was keyed off, with a figure slamming the door shut, that it finally caught your attention. “Hey, hey, wait, you think that’s Steve?” Your hand repeatedly smacked against Winnie’s arms.
Winnie squinted her eyes through the dark. Well, he did have the hair. Great hair, in fact. Totally walked like he could be some wannabe lawyer, especially with the white button-up he adorned; too fancy for a place like such. Could definitely see him being casted as the boy-next-door. And woah, was he pretty. Like, ridiculously pretty. “It better be Steve, fuck me.” Her glossed lips fell open. 
“O-Okay, so, we just, like, ask him-”
“Ayo, Steve!” Winnie’s deepened voice boomed to the likeness of a man, before harshly turning around to avoid being caught. 
“Oh, my god.” You quietly sighed to yourself in embarrassment, as Winnie’s efforts clearly fell short of subtlety, and the now identified Steve Harrington was looking right over. 
Winnie stood stiff, as if to appear invisible. “Well, did he look up?” 
“Yes, he looked up.” You deadpanned. “And right at us, in fact, because that was awful.” An incredulous chuckle scoffed out of you. 
“Aw, great, he probably thinks I sound like a chain smoker now.” She groaned, as you both awkwardly shuffled to his direction. 
He proffered such a boyish smile with a small wave to greet you both, before his arms crossed over his chest, hands tucking under his armpits. “Hey, uh, sorry, this is a bit confusing, you’re here to hang out with Ed and I?” He questioned with a small smile.
“Yeah, yeah.” You softly answered. “I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself. 
Steve flashed you a warm smile, before pointing a curious finger beside you. “Ah, so you’re mine tonight?” He asked for clarification to Winnie, who blushed under his suaveness. 
“Oh, yeah, I’ll be yours any night.” She mindlessly responded, luckily rifting that first-meet-up awkward tension that now dissipated into sincere laughter.   
“Alright then,” Steve’s cheeks plumped under his growing smile. “Wendy, right?”
Winnie rolled her eyes. “That bastard, it’s Winnie.” She beamed.
“Winnie, got it, I apologize.” Steve offered, as she shyly waved him off, truly enamored through her school girl-like crush. “Well, uh, like I was saying, I am a bit confused, ‘cause Eddie had kinda told me you guys bailed on us.”
“What?” You mused over his words in confusion. 
Steve shook his head. “Yeah, I’m not sure, something about you not calling, or just basically canceling, I guess.” You and Winnie slowly looked at one another. “I don’t know, he called me before I clocked off work, but after a shift with my dad,” an airy laugh breathed out of him, “figured I could still go for a drink. So, sorry if I’m a little overdressed.” His hands panned over his suited body. “Yeah, so, I’m assuming some lines of communication got lost. You guys definitely didn’t cancel, right?” 
“No, we were trying to be feminists.” You sarcastically lilted. 
“Right, right.” Steve laughed along. “Well, uh, since this double date is definitely not canceled, why don’t we all head inside? I’ll call up Eddie, see if he picks up, and if not… well, I surely don’t mind taking out two pretty girls, so my treat.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m definitely keeping him.” Winnie whispered into your ear.
Where mandatory I.D checks made up The Albatross, it surely lacked at The Hideout, as nothing but spotted glass door—dirtied by a litter of sticky fingerprints—had fallen easily open to welcome any patron who chose to drown their stress with a bitter bottle of beer. Whatever Top 100 Hits Winnie had been used to listening to during her bar endeavors had been switched to bare the brunt of country rock, as older men and women spaced themselves accordingly, rather than the practical dry humping The Albatross was regularly accustomed to. 
Steve Harrington, the soon to be discovered paralegal, had situated you both to a lonesome table surrounded by four stools, where you received the chance to gaze about the rustic decor of American flags and sports jerseys that complimented the dusty deer head that hung against the dark wood. “Hey, so, you guys have any drink preferences?” His head gestured to the bar. 
“Two beers will be fine.” Winnie’s chipper voice answered, as you nodded in agreement. 
“Perfect, I’ll head up to get our drinks, and see if I can give Eddie a call.” Winnie froze under his innocent hand that landed on her shoulder, before Steve sauntered off. 
“Oh, Christ, I’m gonna marry him.” Winnie groaned into her hands. 
You giggled at her unease. “It’s barely been five minutes.”
“But it’s been a good five minutes.” She protested in defense. 
“Okay, so, um, while you get to enjoy your time with Steve, I mean, what should I do about Eddie?” You talked in hushed whispers, as subtle glances to the bar showed Steve in casual conversation with the bartender. “Like, what if he does come, y’know, he’s gonna be pissed? O-Or, uh, if he doesn’t show, does that mean he’s no longer interested?”
“Okay, shh.” Winnie interrupted your panicked speech. “Look, alright, we kinda did screw over Eddie, but, I mean, who were we to know he thought that was us canceling. If anything, we deserve the right to piss him off, especially me.” She scoffed. “That ‘Wendy’ bullcrap. What, do I look like some freckled, red-head child with braids slapped on some burger wrapper?”
You peered back at the revelation. “Oh, my god, wait, with your hair, you do kinda look like-”
“Shh, lalala, I’m hearing it, that wasn’t the point!” You wiped off the spit that flung from her harsh whispers. “Circling back,” her lips emphasized, “Eddie’s going to come, okay? He’s like every other dude, alright, they can’t take rejection, always have to bother you as to why you don’t want them. So, he’s going to come, and when he does, you have to stand your ground. Alright, no apologizing, no feeling bad, no ‘oh, let me make it up to you.’” She mocked her damsel-in-distress voice. “You better give him the cold shoulder. Anger is still very much an emotion, and if he’s angry that means he cares. It means he has feelings, feelings which you hurt! Like. A. Bad. Ass.”
You chuckled incredulously. “Don’t really think being mean makes me a badass-”
“It does in the case of Eddie Munson, alright?” Winnie cemented. “Clearly, people haven’t been mean enough to him.”
Steve Harrington had given Roger, the bartender, the grace to prioritize the other patrons on their refills, after opening his tab to the orders of you, Winnie, and him—alongside an additional order of generic greasy food—as a phone call to Eddie Munson was surely to last a bit more than a quick ‘hello.’ After gaining permission to use the establishment’s phone, Steve had propped himself against the wall of the back storage room, with the ringing, red phone against his ear.
Perhaps Eddie Munson was trying to overcompensate for the bruised ego caused by your rejection, as he resulted in swallowing the mouth of Jenny Albridge in the center of his living room couch. And I mean really swallowing. Their lips smacked hungrily with too much saliva, forcing Eddie to endure it if it mean fucking his frustrations out. 
And poor Jenny, while she’s heard of the eighth wonder Eddie had added to the world from underneath his pants, she hadn’t actually been with him. It just so happened to be faith that their shoulders collided, while she left her evening pilates class. And hell, after an intense, sweaty workout, she wanted another—albeit slightly different—intense, sweaty workout, especially after the numerous five star ratings. 
Though, maybe she’d just caught him on a bad day. Like, a really, really bad day. But maybe she was supposed to like it? The whole aggressive, teeth clashing, tongue invading, spit drenching make out that would hopefully finally lead to the good part. There was going to be a good part, right?
Ring, ring, ring, ring…
Oh, thank god, Eddie thought, as he finally had an excuse to detach from her lips, giving Jenny the go ahead to catch her breath with a deep gasp of air. He shifted quickly from the couch, walking to the phone, pulling it abruptly to stop the incessant shrilling. “Hello?”
“Ed, man.” Steve stood straight. “Hope you know the girls are here.” He snickered into the phone. 
“Girls?” Eddie wiped the spit from his lips. “What gi-” The revelation backhanded him in the face, as his mouth stooped low with confusion. “What? No, they canceled!”
“I think that’s what they had you thinking, but really they just drove themselves. And now, I’ve just ordered them beers and some food, so unless you’re giving me the grace to talk up your girl and her friend, I’d suggest you come down here as quick as possible.” Steve laughed. 
While he may have lived a couple towns over from the big city, Steve Harrington was no stranger to the name Eddie had given himself in Indianapolis, as periodic visits would consist of his friend recounting the newfound experience he gained with women, to eventually being one another’s wingman. 
In fact, Steve regularly joked about Eddie ‘decrowning’ him as king, as he now flaunted the hookup culture he, so very actively, participated in, thanks to the “bell bottom hippies, who were so desperately horny, they made it a movement.” His words, definitely not any history books’ words. 
“They’re fucking there?! Are you- ugh!” His fingers shoved into his eyes in frustration. “I fucking sent her flowers with the number, and everyth-”
“Woah, you sent her flowers?” Steve interrupted with shock. “Since when do you ever send flowers?”
“I don’t know! This girl is pissing me off, I- I’ll be there, alright!” Jenny Albridge scrunched her face in heavy judgment. “J-Just make sure she doesn’t- I mean, them. Make sure they don't leave!”
Steve chuckled at the stutter of his voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep them entertained.” He laughed. 
Eddie scoffed. “I’m serious, Harrington, no funny business! She already thinks I’m some asshole, and her friend is probably feeding her some more bullshit about how terrible I am.”
Steve playfully rolled his eyes, as he recalled the panicked phone call that transpired a couple hours prior, with Eddie imploring him to agree to a blind double date. Something about fucking some girl, but now wanting said girl’s friend, but said girl’s friend doesn’t want him, because said girl told her friend about him fucking other girls. Whatever it was, it was a big, jumbled mess, and Steve wondered why Eddie ever involved himself in the first place. Though, apparently, it was important enough if Eddie had to send you flowers. “Well, you did kinda screw over Winnie-” 
“Okay, that's not the point!” Eddie spat out in a rush. Maybe it was how alike Winnie Ambrose and Eddie Munson had been that repelled them so harshly from one another. Jenny Albridge was quietly shuffling on her shoes. “Look, I-” He took a deep breath, regulating himself. “I’ll be there. While I’m not going to force you to do anything, it would be greatly appreciated if you helped a friend out, and talked me up.”
“Alright, alright.” Steve agreed. “Just hurry up, I highly doubt you cruising around is gonna better any impression this girl’s already got for you.” With that, Steve cut off any response Eddie had prepared with the buzzing of a dead line, as he hung up the phone. 
Eddie sighed, running his hand through his hair. Turning around, he flinched at the sight of an awkwardly smiling Jenny, as he’d genuinely forgotten about her presence amidst the phone call. Both blinked back-in-forth to one another; a mutual consensus silently understood.
“Yeah, you need to leave.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
-
A basket of chicken tenders and fries had interrupted your conversation short, as they were placed against the table, with Steve arriving with his hand clinging to the necks of three beer bottles, each tucked between the space of his fingers. “Sorry, I know it’s not Michelin Star-esque, but it’s the best this bar’s got, so hopefully it’s enough to satiate any hunger.” He smiled. Steve was hit with an influx of ‘thank you’s’ from the both of you, as the stationary centerpiece of condiments were beginning to fill up the tiny containers that came with the meal. “Oh, and Ed’s on his way, as well.”
“He’s coming?” You questioned.
“Yeah, yeah, told him to come as quick as possible.” Steve answered, as he took his seat next to Winnie. 
Winnie squirted an aggressive amount of ketchup onto her tray, leaving Steve to smile at her antics. “Wait, did he sound mad over the phone?”
“Uh, I mean, he was a little worked up, y’know, in his usual dramatic self.” His answer came with the hesitation of wondering how to play the best wingman to people who clearly hadn’t established the best opinion of him. “But, he’s coming, dropped everything and is on his way.”
“See, I told you.” Winnie nudged your shoulder. 
Steve popped a ranch covered fry into his mouth. “Told her what?” 
“That Eddie being angry means he’s totally into her.” Winnie proudly beamed. 
He laughed. “Oh, yeah, I heard about the whole flowers thing.”
You fervently shook your head. “I’m not exactly trusting anything Eddie does to be in good faith.” You proffered a delicate smile. “I mean, I know what he’s like, so not really trusting him to be this great person.”
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, then, can I ask why you agreed to date him? Like, especially after what he did to you.” 
Both you and Winnie took a second to stare at one another, before she leaned in close. “I know he’s your friend, but you promise not to say anything? Y’know, to him?” Now piqued with interest, Steve stood straight, nodding in agreement. “Okay…” Winnie sighed, “we’re basically trying to take him down.”
Steve laughed, quite amused, and very happy with accepting the request to go on this blind double date. “Wow, okay. A feminist thing?” He chuckled, “How’s that going?”
“Well, we’re only in the beginning stages, but it’s working great so far!” Winnie gloated. “I mean, he was literally begging her to go out on this date! I am a genius!”
“So, then what’s the follow up?”
“Well, I’m sure you know how Eddie is.” Steve confirmed it with a shake of his head. “We are just trying to make him feel how we, as women who have fallen victim to him, feel.” Winnie held her head high. “So, if all things run smoothly, then hopefully he’ll learn to not be such a douchebag.”
“Yeah,” Steve sighed, “I mean, he’s a good guy.” Winnie raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Well, at least, he used to be.” He clarified. “I think moving to the city was very much a way of letting go of his old life here, which, y’know, I’m proud of, though, I’m sure he’s probably not making the best decisions most of the time.”
“What was he letting go of?” You curiously asked, leaning against the table.
“Well, Eddie hasn’t always exactly been a ladies man.” He breathily chuckled. “Uh, in fact, probably not the most liked guy in town. By girls, or people in general. Just unfortunately got tied to a bad reputation, because of how close-minded Hawkins can be. Y’know, the whole metalhead gig isn’t exactly what the church goers of our town prefer.”
Concern etched across your face. “It got that bad that he wanted to leave?”
Steve nodded. “I mean, people are assholes, gave him grief just to take the piss out of him. I know he didn’t exactly want to leave- or, actually, leave the people in his life behind. He’s got an uncle over here, me and our other friends, his old band members, his little DnD club.” Eddie Munson, the cocky lead singer, played Dungeons and Dragons? You softly laughed, truly believing Eddie was an enigma; such juxtaposition within himself. “But, y’know, he had to do what he had to do. For himself.”
“And now he really does just do everything for himself.” Winnie playfully scoffed. 
“Well, I’m sure he’ll have a change of heart if he continues “seeing” you.” Steve smiled. “I mean, think the last I ever heard of Eddie giving anyone flowers was for this cheerleader he had some crush on, before her boyfriend got wind of it. It turned into this big blow out, Eddie, of course, had already gotten into his fair share of fights before, so pretty easy to say this kid got beat up, until his basketball buddies joined in. That only worsened his image, and pretty much humiliated him, so…”
“Yeah, no wonder he turned into such an asshole.” Winnie inferred, as a deep pit of sorrow buried in your belly for Eddie. Something you severely tried to ignore, given his background had garnered no justification for his current actions. 
“But maybe he’ll turn a new leaf.” His friend felt optimistic. Or, at least, hoped. “He still working down at that tattoo parlor, right?” 
Was he? Despite how much Winnie fed you, you actually knew nothing of him. “Probably.” Winnie’s face stuffed with the crunch of a juicy tender. “What about you, though? Eddie mentioned something about a lawyer?” She sweetly smiled.
Christ. Perhaps bailing on Eddie’s chauffeuring offer only forced you to become a third wheel for the time being. “Oh, definitely not a lawyer, just a paralegal for my dad who is one.”
“Still impressive, though.” She batted her lashes. “I’m sure you’re great at it.” Truthfully, Winnie Ambrose had no clue as to what a paralegal was, but if it made him flash his smile, then she’d gladly continue. 
“What about you two? You guys work?”
“Yeah, just as a barista, while I finish up college.” You concisely answered. 
“Oh, and I finished cosmetology school not too long ago, started working as a hairstylist, so I could totally do your hair, which by the way, you have great hair.” Her fingers delicately played with the few strands that framed his head. 
You hadn’t seen yourself suddenly wishing for Eddie Munson to appear sooner. It was on the sixth chicken tender that you were beginning to lose patience. While Steve Harrington had been the farthest from rude and included you in conversation, you weren’t socially inept to understand that his preferences laid in speaking with the girl he blindly agreed to date. But on the upside, you’d been surprised as to how entertaining it was to dip from between ketchup and ranch to please your taste buds. And washing it down with a cool beer? Surely, this was heaven-
“What happened to you not eating meat?” You felt his hot breath against your ear. 
Your nose nearly bumped his, as your head spun to meet his squinted eyes that scrutinized you through his glare. You had no other choice than to smile, and pop the last bit of the chicken tender into your mouth with a glorious crunch and moan that pissed him off with a smile searing onto his face. 
“Hey, man, you made it.” Steve Harrington had brandished Eddie Munson’s hand with the typical boyish handshake, before Eddie’s jacket met the table, and he took his seat next to you. 
Eddie incredulously chuckled. “Well, y’know, would’ve come sooner, but…” his glare twisted to you, “...apparently reading is a little hard to comprehend for some.”
Gobsmacked, you were ready to smack that smirk off his face, but Winnie had chimed in. “Actually, we did read it, we just didn’t care.” She placed a fry into her mouth. 
“‘We?’” Eddie laughed. “C’mon, Wendy, don’t you know by now no guy would ever give you flowers? That note was for Y/N.” Eddie hadn’t even cared to notice the look of offense that stunned her face, only focusing on whispering into your ear. “And I thought I told you by now to have a mind of your own?”
Your stomach became agitated by his words, and suddenly those six chicken tenders and fries felt like a bad idea. “God, you see how much of an asshole your friend is?” Winnie’s voice felt so distant in your hazed mind. 
“Hey, Ed, c’mon, knock it off.” Steve mediated. “Look, let’s just all start on a clean slate, alright? No more bickering.”
“Alright, then.” He sighed, switching his full attention to you with a sly grin. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.”
The most you could mobilize out of your mouth was a simple, “hi,” in return.
Eddie’s tongue lolled around the inside of his mouth. It was clear you were going to be short with him. “So, uh, new to Hawkins, huh? How’re ya liking it?” Winnie’s words of advice were burdening your overthinking head. Three seconds. One… two- “Uh, okay, I’m glad you could make it. Glad that you agreed most of all. Even if you got here without me.” You gulped. One… two… thr- “Can I get you another drink?” You blinked down at the half filled beer bottle you’ve been nursing. One… two… t- “Okay, don’t answer.” Eddie gave up with an exasperated sigh. 
“Hey, if you two would like another round, I can grab it for you?” Steve proffered, and you watched Winnie subtly nod her head to you in secrecy.
You stuttered back quickly. “Oh, yeah, t-that’d be great. Thank you, Steve.”
Eddie glowered in disbelief, watching as Steve whisked himself away towards the bar. “Y’know, if flowers weren’t your thing, you could’ve ringed me up to let me know?” He suddenly shoved himself in your face. 
“Oh, they are.” Winnie punctuated. “Just not from you.”
Eddie ignored her. He knew what she was doing, and he wasn’t falling under any trap that would subscribe him to that asshole attitude he surely acquired.
So, Eddie Munson’s eyes glued to yours. “Was it the type? Not your favorite? What is? Or, are you into those weird fruit bouquet things? I can get you those if you are? Hell, chocolate even-”
“No, Eddie.” You stopped his questionnaire. “I just- I just felt more comfortable riding with Winnie, s’all. Thought it’d be best. For me.”
For you. Was that enough to, at the very least, show him you did, in fact, totally, very much have a mind of your own…?
“Alright, then.” Eddie sat back, actually accepting your words. “Fair enough.”
“Plus, she just didn’t want to be stuck in a car with some pervy jackass.” Winnie smiled, mindlessly dipping her food into the condiments. 
Eddie chuckled. “Y’know what? I think we kinda got off on the wrong foot here.” He smiled, as she rolled her eyes. “So, I’m here to say I’m sorry. There it is. My formal apology. See? Growth.” Eddie winked over to you. 
“Oh, you’re sorry?” Winnie incredulously laughed. “For what is it exactly, Eddie, that you’re sorry for? For being an asshole? For lying? For leading me on? For having sex with me, then ditching me?”
Eddie pretended to ponder on that thought. “Yeah, sure.” He shrugged, as Winnie scoffed in disgust. “All of the above.” 
“Ugh, you little, piece of shi-” Steve set the bottles of beer down.
“Hey, everything alright here?” He hurriedly intervened. 
Winnie took a deep breath. “Fine, then. Apology accepted.” She ardently sat up straight. “So, how do you guys know each other?” She looked between both men. 
Eddie had been quite quick to answer. “High school.” Bluntly so, too.
“Oh, you mean back when you were a loser?” Winnie smiled.
Eddie’s face dropped. “You told them?!”
Steve exhaustedly sighed, running a stressed hand through his hair. “Dude, I didn’t mean- look, it just came up in conversation, I was just trying to explain things.”
Eddie fell back with a look of unease, shaking his head in disbelief. His expression had vividly written the discontent he had with Winnie bringing up his past, it clearly being something he hadn’t wished to be disclosed to people he barely knew. “Hey, okay, look, we don't have to talk about that.” You interrupted, watching Eddie preoccupy his discomfort by mindlessly picking at a napkin. “Um, Steve said that you worked at a tattoo parlor, is that right?” You softly pried, but your endeavors fell short with his blatant choice to ignore you. “Hey, Eddie, you said you wanted us to get to know each other better, right? Well, now, we’re on a date, so we can.” Your genuine smile was enough to have him slowly eye you. Throwing his words right back into his face, he hated it. 
Eddie slowly began sitting up, even choosing to discard the napkin. “Um, yeah. Alchemy Ink.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s the one down the-”
“-Street from the coffeehouse, yeah.” Eddie finished for you. “It’s, uh, why I go down there for my breaks.” He tried to shrug off.
“Oh, that notebook- the one you, uh, drew those cute, little bats in- the really good ones, is that where you draw, like, your tattoo ideas?” Damn it, you were making it really hard to stay angry with your sweet conversation. His lips twisted inward to suppress his fighting smile. 
You just had to fucking remember those damn bats, huh?
“Uh, yeah, t-the beginning sketches. Just, y’know, to get some ideas flowing, get a feel of what I can work with.” God, with you staring at him, Eddie really wished he had a beer to drown his stupid thoughts. But with how much you hated him, the rational part of his brain crossed off any idea of becoming a drunken asshole on a first date. 
“That’s really cool.” Fuck you for flashing that smile, Eddie thought. “You should tattoo some law scale on Steve.” You joked.
Eddie chuckled. “Already poked ‘KING’ into his ass.”
With Steve shaking his head in disbelief, Winnie gasped, as the act of hiding his face within his hands confirmed Eddie’s words. “You got the word ‘king’ tattooed on your ass?!” She laughed. 
Fair play to Eddie. “Hey, hey, in my defense, we were drunk high schoolers, and it was just some shitty stick-and-poke.” He laughed. “Plus, you have no room to talk, given ‘FREAK’ is permanently on your ass!”
“Freak? Why that of all things?” You questioned through your fits of giggles. 
Eddie flashed you that devilish smile that had you instantly regretting your words. “I can show you more than I can explain it to you.” And his winked was merely met with the annoyed roll of your eye. 
“No, no,” Steve laughed, “it was just some bullshit high school thing.” 
Luckily, any tension of hostility was able to dissolve through the bubbling laughter that naturally came around. Through the round of beers, the stories of which Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson held were animatedly shared in strides to get their dates to laugh. And to their credit, they surely did accomplish such task with recounting the juvenile trouble they encountered during their teenage years, while not stepping too deep into the territory at which Eddie was still visibly uncomfortable with. A part of you had been curious to understand the complexity as to why Eddie hated his past to such a degree. But your mouth stayed quiet, apart from minimal conversation, as you, too, would feel uneasy if anyone had brought up your past.
Which is why you grew stiff when the topic of conversation switched to how you befriended Winnie Ambrose. 
“Much like Harrington and I, you guys seem quite different.” Eddie interrogated. “So, how is it exactly you guys became friends?”
“Um,” Your brain went numb with the racking thoughts that were trying to spew out of your mouth to find anything, literally anything, to not mention him, Dalton…
“Same like you, y’know, high school.” Winnie briefed concisely enough to save you. “Nothing too crazy, really. Definitely not by some third-party freshman.” She joked to derail the conversation.
But ever the curious one, Eddie hadn’t stopped with the prodding, as he became quite serious with his task of getting to know you. Especially given the circumstance that he couldn’t thoroughly do so to his preferred degree, with two people hijacking this supposed date. “So, what? Through a class? A club? Were you in any clubs, Y/N?” You hated how ardent he’d become with eye contact. 
“Uh, n-no, never really was.” You stuttered out. “We just kinda met through friends, I guess. We, uh, knew the same perso- people.” 
“What person?” Eddie had clocked it, and his interest had skyrocketed. 
“Uh…” You swallowed thickly. “Just some ex-boyfriend s’all.” You adamantly tried to brush off with a giant swig of the beer in hand. 
But, of course, with the mention of an ex-partner, Eddie was never going to let it go. “‘Ex-boyfriend?’” He smiled sickly. “Someone I’m gonna need to fight to get to you, huh?” Eddie teased. “What was that relationship like?” He relished in the invasive nature that had your squirming in your seat. 
“Uh, I-I don’t, um-”
“Jeez, they broke up, and moved on. He’s irrelevant.” Winnie interrupted for your sake, as Eddie quietly scoffed to himself. “Are you currently seeing anyone else, Steve?” She turned the focus away. 
“Oh, uh, no, not seriously.” Steve answered. “Just a couple’a first dates the last few weeks, but most of which we’ve agreed to just keep it as such, no second.” 
Winnie flashed an overly bright smile. “See, it’s so attractive when guys actually communicate, and don’t blow off girls.” She couldn’t have been more obvious. “Right, Y/N?”
“Huh?” Suddenly, her elbow was connecting to your rib. “Ugh-um, right, right, so attractive.” You powered through the pain. 
“Respectable job, communicates, respectful, and has incredible hair,” Winnie gushed, “you’re really just, like, the perfect man, right?” She turned to you. 
“Mhm.” You sweetly smiled, choosing to turn your back to Eddie Munson to gaze your full attention to Steve. “Very perfect.”
Had Steve not been notified of this so-called ‘Take Eddie Munson Down’ operation, he surely would have cocked an eyebrow at the weird behavior you both were beginning to show. But the man was merely left blushing behind his hand, with a smile that held back amused laughter.
Because while Steve smiled, Eddie had scowled at your unexpected response.
It became quite evident he hadn’t been all too keen on sharing this night with others. While he understood he suggested the invitation of a stupid double date, it was only spoken as a last resort to finally get with you. And even then, it didn’t mean he had to like it. Especially, when all of sudden, any chance of a potential romance was abruptly shot down with Winnie Ambrose’s interjection to somehow turn the conversation to Steve Harrington, who you suddenly took a liking to?!
If it was the weather, suddenly you both were drooling over how Steve would “totally be, like, the hot weatherman you’d turn on the news for just to gawk over.”
If it was your studies, suddenly you’d exclaim about how Steve “looked just like that one sexy professor in the psychology department.”
If it was Eddie’s job, suddenly both of your attention was turning to Steve to detail “how hot he’d look with tattoos.”
I have tattoos, Eddie screamed in his head. His nostrils were flaring with deep breaths, as he felt his body boiling over the sight of you leaning over the table just to speak to him. By 10:02 P.M, the date had irreparably turned into some flirt fest starring Steve Harrington, and any attempts at having a one-on-one conversation with you had pissed him off to no avail, as you casually shrugged him off as some old pal. 
Eddie’s knee was bouncing by the second, eyes jumping from person to person, as the conversation carried on without him. Had any of you even noticed that he hadn’t spoken a word in five minutes?
“Well, I spent most of my time working with a close buddy of mine at a movie store, just a couple blocks…” Eddie didn’t even try to listen to Steve’s backstory, he couldn't even if he wanted to. His eyes had trained themselves to your side profile, the one that hadn’t looked at him in six minutes and twenty-three seconds in counting—crazy, he knows, but that wasn’t the topic of conversation—as you were too entranced with listening to Steve’s boring story. Eddie Munson had had enough. “...But my father was really hammerin’ on me to pursue something-” The grating noise of chair legs scraping across the floor had interrupted his speaking, as Eddie made the rash decision to pull you closer. 
With the close proximity, his hand secured itself around the back of neck to pull your head close, as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “Finish your food, I’m taking you somewhere else.”
You froze, as Eddie cleared his throat as though nothing happened. “What’s up?” Winnie worriedly questioned. 
“Nothing.” Eddie shrugged, finishing the last bit of his food. “Just taking Y/N somewhere, so we’re,” he gestured to the both of you, “wrapping this up. You lovebirds do as please.” As everyone was slowly accepting the abrupt ending of the double date, Eddie was casually reaching for his wallet to slap the table with a couple of bills. “I asked, so I’ll cover it, Harrington.”
Oh, shit. Winnie hadn’t prepared you for alone time with Eddie Munson. It’s when he strikes best!
“Yeah, thanks, man.” Steve offered in return, before turning to Winnie. “Um, would you be okay with wrapping up as well? You got quite some ride back to Indy, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah.” Winnie solemnly agreed to, as she mentally cursed Eddie for ruining the only good date she’s been on in the last few weeks. 
You stood from your chair, finishing the last swig of your beer that you had left, before Eddie’s hand circled around your waist. “Hey,” he came in close, “It’s been a minute, so I’m just gonna say hello to Rog, and the couple’a people I haven’t seen in a while.” You nodded along, as you took into account the stories he recounted about his days of being a barback. “Here,” his keys dangled before you, “just make yourself comfortable, okay? I won't be long. It’s just the van out front.”
With two pats on the small of your back, all you could muster was a soft, “okay,” before you shuffled to Winnie.
Watching Eddie walk away, you clutched to her arm. “He told me to go to his car, I’m internally panicking right now!” You aggressively whispered.
“Okay, just calm down and go, alright? I’ll meet you out there in a second.”
With Winnie’s words, your legs worked fast to drag you out of the bar, where the gentle breeze slapped you with the needed composure to locate the large van parked a couple feet away. Unlocked, and strapped in, you took a deep breath in the passenger seat of Eddie’s car.
Though, that deep breath was unwarrantedly invaded by the pungent smell of weed and cigarettes, and while you were sure that may have come as a speedy remedy for stress, you weren’t too pleased to be suddenly struck with it at this moment. 
You jammed the key into the ignition, revving the van to life to hopefully clear the smell with the much needed air conditioning, but all you got in return was the thrashing clash of some metal band screaming into your ear from the abrasive volume Eddie chose to listen to his music. 
Jumping to turn it down, you finally settled back against the car seat with a heaving chest. But like clockwork, your nerves were shot with the adrenaline of being horrified from Winnie suddenly opening the car door.
“God, Winnie, you scared me half to death!” You screeched, as she clambered into the front seat. 
“Look, we have to make this quick, Steve’s using the bathroom, and who knows when Eddie’s coming back.” She underlined. “We gotta prepare you, okay? Being alone with Eddie is nothing like being on a double date with Eddie! This- this means he’s really into you!”
“O-Okay, so what now? I wait four seconds to respond?”
“‘Four seconds?’” Winnie looked at you as if you were crazy. “There’s no four seconds, you’re practically seeing Eddie Munson now! This is basically dating!”
“I don’t want to be dating, though!” You implored through round eyes. 
“Well, you’re just gonna have to suck it up!” Winnie set you straight. “Just remember, confidence is key, alright? Don’t let him walk all over you!” She coached. “You be straightforward with your responses, don’t let him intimidate you.”
The panic was beginning to settle too deep. “W-Well, what if he tries to make a move? Is he going to make a move?!”
“Look, just whatever he does, keep it to a minimum. Nothing more than a kiss, alright?” You nodded in agreement. “Are you a good kisser?”
Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Well, I-I don’t know, h-how does anyone know if they’re a good kisser?”
Winnie dramatically sighed. “Well, do you guys tell you you’re a good kisser?”
The sudden revelation hit you like a truck. “Oh, my god, I’m a bad kisser!”
“Sh! Sh!” Winnie tried to calm your trepidation. “Y/N, look, it’s really simple, okay?” She mounted over the center console to set your head straight. “It’s just effortless movements. Light touches, okay? Light.” Her hand gripped to your jaw. “Just lock onto him, nothing too crazy. Grab onto that gorgeous head of hair, but no passion just yet, you have to build it up.” Her face came closer. “Be in control, hold his gaze, it just has to be the temptation,” her breath fanned across your features, as you felt weary as to where this was heading, “just a light brush to leave him wanting more.” Suddenly, Winnie’s lips were planted against yours, and you made your truest effort to follow her guidance, until-
“Holy hell, kiss her again. Do it!”
You and Winnie instantly pulled apart to witness the gross man who stood watching in amusement in front of Eddie’s parked van. “Get out of here, you perv!” You flipped on the headlights to scare the man, who quickly scurried off, when suddenly the beaming headlights showed Eddie coming over. “Oh, shit, Eddie’s coming!”
Winnie freaked, suddenly choosing to scale over the front seats to scramble her way into the messy den that was the back area of Eddie’s car. You sat abnormally stiff once Eddie stepped foot into his van. “Hey, you okay?” He asked, as he settled himself in. 
“Mhm.” You hummed out. 
He took a second. “Um, look, I know it’s probably not the most ideal situation, but I promise it won’t be anything terrible.” You slowly peered at Eddie, who sat cautiously in his seat. “I-I just,” he sighed, “I just want to, at the very least, get a chance to actually speak to you. W-Without Harrington or your friend. Just you.”
“Okay.” You softly nodded to his request, which eased a deep breath from chest. “That’s okay.”
A small smile etched upon Eddie's face, and you hadn’t decided whether to take it innocently or sinisterly. With Eddie Munson, it was almost always the latter. With your approval, Eddie pulled out of the parking lot—unbeknownst to him, with Winnie in tow—to head along the long stretch of highways that traveled along the breadth of Hawkins, Indiana. 
Though, unfortunately, forgotten within the walls of The Hideout, Steve Harrington was flinging his hands dry from water due to the lack of paper towels that were never refilled within the men’s restroom, as he sought his way outside to a dead parking lot. “Win- Winnie?” He turned about. “Eddie? Anyone?”
Eddie’s fingers slowly turned the volume up of his radio. “Did you have a good time, at least?” He asked. 
“Oh, yeah, I quite liked the bar; a lot less crowded, which made it more enjoyable than the one from Saturday night.” 
“Yeah?” He lilted. “Not really into that scene, huh?”
“No.” You chuckled. “Definitely not, but it is yours, no?” You interrogated back, almost accusatory in Eddie’s eyes. “You go there a lot, I’m assuming?” Spoken as if to find a definitive reason to not let this “date” prolong any further than tonight. 
“I, well, um, wouldn’t say a lot.” He searched his way around the words. “Just when needed. For the band.” 
“Huh, okay.” Eddie thought you relented. “Not the best reputation with that band though, right?” You smiled so sickly, Eddie was scoffing out a laugh. 
He hadn’t seen such feistiness from you yet, he was honestly relishing in it. “We just- we just like to have fun, s’all. Don’t you? Unless you’re, like, some total buzzkill.” He smirked back. 
“No, not a buzzkill.” You protested. “Just have self-discipline, you know? Or, wait, do you not know?”
Eddie kissed his teeth with a dimpling grin that was becoming permanent on his face with. “Oh, no, I know.” His finger aggressively tapped against his steering wheel. Because, truthfully, if he hadn’t known, he would have immediately pulled the car over, and shut you up the way he knew best… and, well, did best. “Just, y’know, like to live my life to the fullest with everything accomplished.”
“And everyone apparently, huh?” 
Eddie’s knuckles were fusing white with the tight grip he clutched. “You’re walking on thin fucking ice here, Y/N.” He huffed a laugh from his buzzing body. 
“Why?” You feigned. “I thought you liked having fun?”
Oh, Eddie Munson was so fucked. 
Winnie Ambrose couldn’t have been more proud with the dedication shown by you, as she pushed through the pain of holding back her laughter that threatened to spill with every bump Eddie carelessly passed. She wrestled around the displayed blankets that she felt icky even touching, wondering what unfortunate crusted stains she may have been laying upon. Winnie shifted uncomfortably, as she reached beneath her to wedge out a bra that slung from under. Winnie silently gasped. “That dog.” She mouthed, until her nimble fingers suddenly felt the cushion of thick padding that invaded the bra.
Oh, great… it was her’s, she shamefully tucked the bra under her arm. 
Lover’s Lake had been nothing but a ten minute drive for you and Eddie Munson, but somehow, the tension you both left untouched with silence seemed to make it last an eternity, as you both suffocated in the teasing friction that consumed the air between you two. 
You peered out the window, watching worriedly as Eddie took a turn into a wooded path that left you viewing nothing but dark trees. “It won’t be anything terrible, huh?” You hid your anxiety through forced giggles. 
“Yup.” Eddie did little to denote any further. “There’ll be a time when you’ll finally trust me.” 
You head slumped against the cold glass. “Yeah, doubt it.” You whispered to yourself, unaware of the smile that ate at his face, as he quietly heard your words. 
Much to your dismay, Eddie Munson proved you wrong—though proving your right could have left your name attached to some true crime murder case—as his van parked along the clearing that showcased such a scenic view of a sparkling lake that reflected the crystal tranquility of the moon and stars. Too enthralled, you hadn’t taken notice of Eddie leaving the car, until he approached your side to guide you out. “Is this too terrible for you?” You shook your head. “Perfect, then. One of my favorite places, in fact, so it would have pissed me off if it was.” With the slam of the car door, Winnie peeked up from her hiding place, watching as you and Eddie began walking down west. 
“Do you come here often?” You pondered, taking in the scenery, as your shoes sunk into the mush of muddy grass and moss.
“When I lived here, yeah.” Eddie hopped over strewn branches. “For being so shitty, I gotta admit, this place sure does have some nice hiding spots. 
“You gonna take me to see all your secret hideouts?” You peered up at him. 
Eddie smiled. “When we get there, absolutely.”
“If.” You insisted. 
“When.” He retaliated. 
You rolled your eyes at the tongue-in-cheek attitude he liked to flaunt around, where he found nothing but mirth with every irk he managed to tick out of you. Silence settled through your stroll, until Eddie decided to break it with his unheard of vacillated voice. “So, uh, hey, you said you enjoyed tonight.” You nodded along. “Was that because of Harrington? Did you, like, I don’t know, like Steve?” 
His hands balled behind his back, as his peripheral glued to your face intently. “Oh, yeah, I liked Steve, he was really nice!” You sincerely spoke, as his teeth began sinking into the cracked despair of his bottom lip. 
“Oh,” was all he could proffer in return.
“I feel like it’s my duty to now push Winnie to continue seeing him.” You had no clue how much your giggles eased his mind. “He seems like he could be really nice to her, very sweet he is.”
Eddie huffed out a heavy sigh. “Y-Yeah, it’s nice those guys could hit it off… like us.” He smiled up close to your face, which had you stopping in your tracks.
“Are we hitting it off, Eddie?”
Standing before you, Eddie kissed his teeth with a grin. “I’d say we are, no? Got you out on a date, actually speaking to me, conversing well.”
“Okay.” You simply noted, continuing your walk, as he scurried to follow.
“‘Okay?’” Eddie repeated with the need of elaboration. “I don’t like that I don’t know what you’re thinking, Y/N.”
“Oh, maybe we are hitting it off, I feel the exact same way about you.” You joked through your soft laughter. 
“No, no, I say what I’m thinking.” Eddie maintained his stance. 
You incredulously laughed in return. “But Eddie, everything you say has quite the history of being a lie.” Your reprisal disseminated over any argument he was willing to divulge to support himself. Eddie Munson could only laugh at himself. How stupid of him to believe he could weasel some smooth talking to a girl, who quite literally witnessed him being kicked out of her apartment for being an asshole. “Kinda got my proof with Winnie-”
“Y’know,” he immediately interjected, “I think… you rely too much on her opinion.”
“And I think you’re a jackass.” You defensively snapped back. You hadn’t even expected it to come out so rash. 
Eddie mockingly laughed in your face. “Oh, yeah? You think I’m a jackass? Alright, I’ll be a jackass. What’s up with that ex-boyfriend of yours you got so weird about? He a jackass, too? Hurt you real bad? Did something to make you lose some bullshit trust, so now you rely on your friend to help you through everything? 
You loathed Eddie Munson. “Screw this.” You scoffed back, choosing to turn away from him, and make your steady way back to the van. 
But he had taken a hold of your hand, forcing you back to his vicinity. “Hey! We’re not done here.”
“Okay, fine! What’s up with your past here? You got really worked up over Winnie bringing that up. And I tried to be nice, and not talk about it, but since you’re such an asshole, I truly don’t care anymore.” You retorted. “Steve mentioned how much people hated you here, and honestly I can see why! You are so conceited, and full of yourself. You’re not considerate of anyone’s feelings, and god, you just say the meanest things. I’m pretty sure most people are happy you left this town, since it meant never having to be near you again.”
No longer was this the banter of any light teasing. Eddie had flung your hand from his, as he stared you down. “You don’t have a single fucking clue as to what you’re talking about.” His heavy breathing had to be manually controlled by his self-control, as his aggressive breath blew into your face.
“Oh, what, but you do?!” You derided so scornfully right back at him. 
Nothing but both of your heavy breathing could be heard against the empty lake front. With such intense eye contact that neither of you ever planned on breaking, Eddie was suddenly drawn in with temptation, and inched his head close against yours, as you lured yourself in…
Until your hands slapped against his chest. “What the hell are you doing?” You shoved him away. 
Your push had snapped some sense into Eddie, and his mouth had fallen open with the words that couldn’t be found, as he held his chest with a sincere hand. And it only worsened his case for a cocky grin to creep upon his face towards you. “You so wanted to kiss me.” 
Your mouth dropped at the absurdity of his ridiculing laughter. “Are you insane?! No, I didn’t!” You’d rather drown in Lover’s Lake than ever let him think so. “Christ, would you just get off your high horse for two seconds, and learn that not everyone wants you?”
You stomped on your heel, walking away from him once more. “I don’t have a fucking horse!” God, you could slap the stupidity out of him. “Hey, alright, c’mon, I shouldn’t have done that! Y/N!” His hand latched back onto yours. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Eddie turned you around. “My dad was some absent crook, who ruined my life with his schemes, and everyone in this shit town fucking took it out on me, alright? So, sorry, but it pissed me when you fucking said that shit.” Your brows furrowed at the sudden dump of information he expelled onto you. All while Eddie simply waited. “Well, go on.”
“What?” You questioned. 
“Your turn.” He made it seem so obvious. “You go, say something about that little boyfriend of yours.”
“W-Wha- no, I’m not gonna-”
Eddie dragged his hands over his face. “Oh, my god, just do it!”
“Fine!” You exasperated. “Yes, Eddie, he was a jackass. After two years, he just laid it all out that he never loved me like I love-” Your mouth clamped shut, as your face hid away with humiliation. “Look, I really don’t want to get into this.” You tried to get away, but Eddie had held back your movements. 
“Alright, so we won’t get into this.” He proclaimed. “What’s your favorite color?” 
“What? What are you doing?” You tried to walk around him.
But Eddie was there to keep his pace with you, only to fervently reiterate, “Just like you said, not getting into this. What’s your favorite color?”
You abruptly stopped with a defeated sigh. “Green.”
“Cool, mine’s black. Surprising, huh?” He sardonically smiled. You shook your head, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a tiny chuckle. “Alright, let’s see what else… oh! What’s your favorite food? And I already know you eat meat, so don’t fuck with me with that.” 
That, unfortunately, had you quietly giggling, but only at your own humor. “Um, I don’t know, uh, pesto pasta.”
“Ooh.” Eddie snapped his fingers. “I love buttered noodles, close enough, huh?” Christ, that got a laugh from you. “Hell, I’ll even make us some for our second date.”
“We are not going on a second date.” You chuckled, as you began walking away. 
Eddie was quick to follow along your steps. “Sure we are. How else am I gonna find out your favorite hobby?” You had to give him credit, it was quite the perfect invitation for a conversation. 
“I like puzzles.”
Eddie snorted. “Okay, grandma, I can get down with that.” He smiled. 
“Oh, shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I know your favorite hobby.” You spoke matter-of-factly. 
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie grinned. “And what’s that, Y/N?”
“Dungeons and Dragons, you nerd.” You laughed, as Eddie shook his head in disbelief. It wasn’t exactly the number one thing he wanted women of his interest to know; not exactly the greatest chick magnet out there. 
Eddie feigned anger. “Fucking Harrington. The mouth on that one.” 
Though, with complete transparency, if airing out his so-called embarrassing secrets was needed in order to keep you happy, he was ready to dish out the time his uncle found a number of women’s underwear when visiting his apartment in Indianapolis. Even sat him down with a heart-to-heart to remind Eddie that he’d love him no matter who he was. 
It was cripplingly mortifying to notify his uncle that he, Eddie Munson, was, in fact, just a whore. 
-
Winnie Ambrose had mindlessly pulled apart all the split ends she managed to find in her head of hair, before she exasperatedly sighed with a heavy fall against the van floor. 
It felt like an eternity waiting for you to return. She’d only hoped you’d come with your dignity, and not as another notch on Eddie’s belt. It was only when her entertainment was finally being satisfied through her nosy curiosity of ruffling through Eddie’s belongings did the passenger door finally open.
Winnie laid so stiffly, as she heard you mutter a “thank you” to Eddie’s chivalry. Your eyes briefly connected for the couple seconds it took for Eddie to reach the driver side, with you nodding to the consensus of the thrown up thumbs up Winnie proffered. 
“Ready to head home?” Eddie asked. 
“Mhm, yeah.” You politely answered. 
The forty minute drive to Indianapolis was thus embarked upon, with Winnie having to endure the detailed lore behind Eddie the Head, when one- one, singular Iron Maiden song played. Where Winnie rolled her eyes, you were quite taken aback with how much information he was ready to elaborate upon, just because it was “totally sick that we share the same name!” In the wise words of Eddie Munson. 
Apparently his only motivation to learn anything. 
Rolling into the parking lot of your apartment complex, the sky thundered with the trudging storm the spring season had welcomed. 
Eddie had turned off the rumbling ignition of his car. “Um, w-would you mind just, like, walking with me?” 
Desperately wanting to jump over to your good side, Eddie had no issue with quickly agreeing to your request. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” 
Winnie slowly moved to the back double doors that would become her escape route. With Eddie whisking you away, you subtly peered back to catch glimpses of Winnie inching her legs out of the car, holding her breath, as every movement caused the old thing to creak from the rust. 
“Okay, um, I know things weren’t necessarily ideal, but I still really enjoyed being with you, and um, I’m just really glad you endured staying with me for this long.” He sniffed out a laugh that you followed along with. 
“Y-Yeah, um, I think everything managed to work out okay in the end.” You softly smiled.
Eddie’s hand found its way to the back of his neck, a classic move that not only let him appear nervous for your sympathy, but tactfully allowed his muscle to bulge for your pleasure. “I’ve gotten quite the understanding that you’re not exactly the type of girl to kiss on the first date… much to my dismay.” He dramatically sighed to make you laugh. “So, Y/N,” your name rolled off his tongue so languidly, “actually give me a call, because I’m not above tracking you down for a second date. But I mean it, have a great night, darling.” 
Slamming the door behind her, Winnie’s breath hitched at sudden cause that halted her escape plan. The heavy door closed on the damn maxi skirt you suggested she wear! “Oh, no. No, no, no, no!” She pulled against the threads that refused to stretch any longer. 
Watching her struggle, you panicked with how quickly Eddie was about to turn away, and your mind unanticipatedly resulted to your hand turning his face towards your own.
Nose bumping, breath fanning, you stared into his eyes. “Um,” your throat went dry. Eddie took your unwarranted invitation with his lips coming down slowly to ever so gently graze against yours. 
“C’mon,” yank! “Let,” yank! “Go,” rip! 
Winnie’s skirt clung from Eddie’s back doors, as she quickly scrambled to cover her exposed self. Seeing her scurry into the gated pool area of the complex, you suddenly diverged from the kiss, planting the tiniest peck to the corner of his mouth so quickly. “Okay, um, thanks for tonight, Eddie!” You hurriedly began walking away. “Have a good rest of your night!” You waved, while Eddie stood stunned. 
Utterly frozen. 
“Wasn’t even my date, and he still managed to get me out of my skirt.” Winnie cursed herself. 
A fluttering smile flushed on his face with heat, as his fingers graced on the phantom touch of your lips still lingering on your face. 
His confidence strides led him back to his van, as he felt on top of the world. There wasn’t any girl Eddie Munson couldn’t get, and his ego was relishing in the extra boost from your kiss. But with it came the frightening reality that he wanted more than what you were giving. 
He wanted you.
Revving up his engine, there wasn’t anything stopping in the way of Eddie Munson. Not even Winnie Ambrose’s skirt that slapped along the asphalt of the road with each foot Eddie drove up.
Your mind refused to focus on anything, but your apartment door, as one thought about Eddie was going to make your head spiral out of control. You wielded yourself to swallow away those nauseating butterflies that were exploding in your tummy. 
This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. You hated Eddie Munson. 
“And my car is still stuck at some dingy bar. Ugh, I hate Eddie Munson!” Winnie exclaimed. 
There was only one thing for certain: Eddie Munson must die!
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𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | If I forgot anyone who asked to be tagged, please let me know, so I can include you in future chapters. This goes for anyone who wishes to not be tagged, just inform me! And, of course, everyone 18+ is welcome to be included <3
It would also help greatly if anyone who asked to be tagged would reblog my work :) @darknesseddiem @tlclick73 @ezzynf @hereforshmut @babez-a-licious @madelynraemunson @nope-thanks @catherinnn @sunshineandwitchery @meowforluv @bellalillyrose @eddieslooneymoonie @honey-flustered @therealgothamguardianfr @fishwithtitz @corrodedcoffincumslut @ohmeg @superas1an @maraudersforlife2005
I sincerely apologize for any user that wouldn't tag, I'm not sure how to fix that :(
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Hi! Could you do a snippet where the villain says, "I knew I would break you and I think I just found out how." Then the hero, in defeat, whispers, "I think so too"?
"I knew I would break you and I think just found out how."
"I think so too." The whisper of it was barely audible.
The villain heard, though, and smiled tenderly.
The hero's shoulders notched another inch tighter, another inch more protectively curled in, as if that might somehow save them. Or perhaps, it was the defeat, so heavy that they couldn't help but crumple and cave in the face of it.
In the face of them.
"But what to do with a broken thing?" the villain mused. "All the glistening vulnerability of you, cracked open and there for the taking. You're not beyond repair. Not yet."
The hero's vision hazed with a useless panic.
"Humans are remarkably resilient." The villain moved closer, dragging a thumb over the hero's bloodied lip. "People underestimate how difficult it is to break them beyond repair. At least, if we take death out of the equation. That is a certain kind of breaking, but by far the least interesting."
The hero said nothing. They couldn't remember a single word in any language. They numbly let the villain hold them, braced, for the inevitable.
"There are people who tell me I should break you properly," the villain continued, studying them. "They are eager for it. You didn't believe I could do it." The villain's head tipped. "You would make a beautiful example, wouldn't you?"
The hero met the villain's eyes.
"Do I need to break you?" the villain asked. "Or is knowing that I can enough?"
"I don't think it's about need," the hero managed. They finally dredged up enough resolve to wrench away, not that the villain's touch was more than a poison caress of a thing.
"No?" The villain let their hand fall.
The hero wet their dry lips. "I think it's about what you want."
The villain considered them, for a moment, with the loving violence of a sculptor first holding a chisel against untouched marble.
"What are the other options with a broken thing?" they asked. "Rearrange your insides and put you back again as something new, something else, something mine? Put you back together with the knowledge that all it would take is a tap and you would be shattered forever?"
"You'd know better than me. You've done this before."
"You have no opinion on the matter?"
"I'm trying not to."
"I think I'm going to break you properly," the villain said, confidingly. "I think it would be kinder."
"Nothing about this is kind."
"Alas, an opinion."
"Alas." The hero's heart felt waterlogged with loss. "You haven't broken me yet. Not beyond repair."
"No. But I'm told the waiting is agony. Is it?"
The hero said nothing. They closed their eyes.
"Yes," the villain said, oh so soft. "I believe it is."
Then they got to work.
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devondeal · 7 months
Text
Long Chaggie rant ahead
I think a reason Chaggie get called "boring" is that they are waayyy past that beginning stage of their relationship TV love to glamorize.
They've been together for three years and already have that comfort level with each other that not everything is a new discovery. They accept each other's differences and just support. That's what a well established relationship is like.
Of course they are still heavily affectionate and loving with each other because duh, they're in love. Society loves to repeat the bullshit "losing the spark" problem in relationships and how "marriage is so hard" but most of these situations are people that barely even like each other let alone love.
I think that's why media loves showing either beginning stage relationships OR trope-y enemies to lovers and variants of that.
ESPECIALLY in the case of queer relationships because it's only fairly recently that it's been normalized onscreen and I don't think we're used to seeing a normal queer relationship. Like think about it.
Media has always loved showing the gays as deviant and toxic because that's been the only way it was allowed to be seen. I think many of us have gotten used to seeing ourselves that way that it's been normalized.
Personally, I'm in the boat of I'm sick being seen as deviant and like it's bad and wrong thing to be in love with someone of the same sex. For me, Chaggie has been healing because it's just two women being a healthy happy couple. Something that society and even family have told me is not possible which hurts beyond words to hear.
So yeah, I love Chaggie. It is the best wlw canon ship in fucking YEARS and I have been craving representation like this. The very things that I get dirty looks at for irl, is completely normal with Chaggie.
They can hold hands, lean in together arm around shoulder, quick casual kisses in public, give each other goo-goo eyes, just general affection and couple-y behavior as well as the "been together for 3 years" quirks and routines. Like I swear I cannot remember any other wlw ship like this so yeah, it's gonna hit me hard in the feels.
And when characters like Lute and Adam are disgusted or fetishize it, it's very obviously portrayed as villainous behavior. Everyone else just accepts them as they are.
Of course it's not just the normalization of those things but specifically in the context of they've been together for 3 years and are still very much in love and have nothing to prove to each other and just face any conflicts as they come like a normal couple.
Most media especially TV have gay couples break up after that amount of time just for drama points and cuz us gays cant ever last in a long term relationship apparently 😒 And I feel like that especially goes for lesbian relationships on TV. I've seen wayyy more long terms mlm relationships than wlw in main roles.
(Wonder if that's cuz it's just so unbelievable that women could actually love each other cuz society just is so attached to the idea that all women hate each other)
Basically fuck Chaggie hate. We need more wlw long term relationships like this onscreen. I'm tired of being seen as deviant and likely to be toxic. And I'm not saying they need to be perfect. They're obviously not and have some issues but that's a good thing. Every couple has issues.
I'm just saying not all gay onscreen need to almost destroy their relationship in order to repair it.
I just really find it incredibly annoying that some will slap the "boring" label on Chaggie when it's more likely that a long term healthy happy wlw relationship is just that bizarre to them. Just let women actually love women for fuck's sake.
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anjaelle · 1 year
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Aged up Dave Lizewski x reader (they're friends) were she's a villain and her dad is a bionics specialist so she has bionic abilities and her and kick-ass fight but they both get seriously injured and the next day everyone meets up at the comic store and you both noticed familiar scratches/cuts so you decide to talk about it privately but instead of getting mad you geek over eachother and end up becoming closer.
@caloetta So I changed it a little bit while keeping the same general idea. I hope you still like it.
Pairing: Post-Grad!Dave Lizewski x Villain!Reader
Warnings: Bruising & Battering, Knife Injury, Language
a/n: I had to dip into the Wiki because I could remember a lot about the character, but not as much as I thought lol
Send me requests and prompts here!
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--
He caught on early that you didn't know. Beyond the mask and the sleek bionic bodysuit, he could see the telltale quirk in your eyebrow and the way you flexed your right hand in frustration.
He wanted to believe that calling your name would end the fight. But he knew your father. He knew that you didn't have a choice. It was either kill or be killed with him, and Dave was absolutely not going to kill you.
He also didn't want to die. So he had to whip out the unexpected third option: tire you out, deflect, and run like a little bitch. He felt himself getting pummeled as he blocked each of the extremely painful punches you landed onto his forearms and legs.
"Fight back!" You grunted in anger, throwing another blocked right hook, "God damn it, fight back!"
He noticed your moves getting sloppy as you struggled to understand where the fight was going. You knew he was holding back, and he knew you had something to prove. He saw an opening and took it, kicking you square in the chest and across the room. You hit a pillar and fell to the ground, struggling to get the air back into your lungs.
"Mother...fuck..." you gasped, coughing.
Worried that you were seriously injured, Dave took a step towards you with raised hands, "I'm sorry, I had to--UGH!"
A large knife flew across the room, burying itself deep in the palm of his hand with expert precision, missing every single important tendon but still deep enough to cause a LOT of bleeding.
"Gotcha, you piece of shit." You groaned, rolling over onto your back in exhaustion. Despite the protection the suit gave you, you were still new to this. It was no wonder your father let you practice the tech on someone like him. After all, who was Kick-Ass in the grand scheme of things? Low-level street vigilante? Just some guy?
He took a deep breath and pulled the knife out, letting out a string of slurred vulgarities. The knife had an intricate design on the flat of the blade, with your initials etched in just above the fancily designed handle. It looked like it was a gift from your father.
"Whoa, this is nice."
Your suit hummed as it examined your vitals and whirred to repair any damage. You grunted, "Please, shut the fuck up and go before I murder you."
His stomach flipped when you showed up for work at the shop two days later, holding your ribs and walking with a slight limp. He immediately felt the rush of guilt for kicking you into a concrete pillar, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. The bandage wrapped around his hand and the stitches underneath were punishment enough. As you leaned up against a shelf of comics to collect yourself, you locked eyes with him and pursed your lips.
"You look like garbage," you said. And then he saw the smile creeping up on your lips when you glanced at his bandaged hand, "Whose little sister beat your ass?"
There was a beat of silence between you as he tried to figure out if you were messing with him or not.
"The same one that beat yours, apparently," he quirked an eyebrow and you briefly matched his expression before dragging your feet to the counter. You leaned in close to him, conspiratorially.
"I want my knife back," you whispered.
He shrugged nonchalantly, peeking over your shoulder to watch the customers mill through the aisles, "I feel like you should've thought about that before throwing it at me."
You plastered a laid back smile on your face as a customer approached the counter with a stack of graphic novels, and you leaned forward on your elbows.
"How did you figure it out?"
Dave absentmindedly scanned each book and placed them in the protective wrapping like it was second nature. You were bold for choosing to have this discussion in front of a civilian, but that didn't seem to surprise him. You loved dabbling in risky behavior in college. Why would anything change 5 years after you left?
"You've got a tell," he admitted, "and...c'mon. I know you like the back of my fucked up hand."
He waved his bandaged hand around for emphasis and you snorted, not feeling the least bit guilty. You were just impressed that your incredibly nerdy, overeager friend was capable of knocking the wind out of you. Ordinarily, you'd leap over the counter to the other side. But, considering the condition of your torso, you chose to take the long way. As you pathetically limped around the back to enter the back room, you could feel his eyes trailing you over the customer's head.
"Let me see." He said, shutting the backroom door behind him. You sighed as you slipped on your sneaker, rolling your eyes.
"It's not that bad."
"If it's not that bad, you'll let me see the damage."
God, he was such a boy scout sometimes. "If you wanted me to take my top off, you could just ask."
You could feel him burning holes into you as you slipped on your other shoe, and you actively avoided eye contact. In truth, he fucked you up bad. It would've been worse without the suit. The only reason you weren't mad was because you knew you got a few good licks in, too. His pretty face had a few bruises and scratches, so you could only imagine what the rest of him looked like.
"Dude..." he huffed, "Stop being a dickhead for five seconds and just show me what the fuck I did to you."
The concern was seeping into his voice and you wanted to ease his guilt. After all, he was just doing his job. It's not like you held a grudge.
You stood and lifted your shirt, exposing the black, purple, and blue bruises along your torso. He clenched his jaw.
When your father saw what Kick-Ass did, he had to be talked down from placing a hit out on him. You had to remind him that it was all a part of the job, and he needed to calm the hell down.
You also didn't want to lose one of the few friends you had.
He crossed the room in a few steps, reaching out to you in frustration.
"Jesus, I'm so sorry." But you scrunched your nose at him like he was insane.
"Why are you sorry? I beat your ass too. It's not like you got away scott free."
He hesitated and then gently ran his fingers along your tender skin to trace the outline of your brightest bruise. You suppressed a shudder, watching as he looked you over with equal parts curiosity, concern, and surprise.
"I had to take an ice bath when I got back to my apartment," he admitted, sheepishly, "I didn't even know you could fight like that."
Without warning, he lifted his shirt to show the numerous rapidly healing cuts and bruises along his very well defined torso. You were almost shocked at how far along his healing was, given the circumstances. All of that strangeness aside, you couldn't stop the exclamation that escaped your throat. It sounded like a mix of a gasp and a cough.
"When the shit did you get so ripped, Lizewski?"
He blushed a deep red. Because of course he did, the humble little bastard.
"You've seen me with my shirt off before."
"I'm sure I'd remember that if I had." You said, eyeing his injuries more closely. You noticed the distinct marks from your bionic suit, and noted that he was a lot stronger than you realized. The more you thought about it, maybe you were lucky that he liked you. You reached out to touch a yellowing bruise on his ribs.
"That's so weird," you said, "Why do your bruises look like that when mine don't."
"I dunno."
He was full of shit. But you wouldn't push.
"I still want my goddamn knife back. It's kind of important to me."
When you finally took a step back to look him over, you found him watching you with an amused look on his face.
"What?" You asked, cracking a grin.
He grinned back.
"You're just gonna have to take it from me."
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arialice · 2 months
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Hey malevolent fans, let me tell you of the most malevolent coded album, Counterfeit Arcade by Shayfer James.
So many of the songs either in lyrics or vibes remind me so much of this show, so in a few words I'm going to attempt to explain my thought process about each song (be prepared, it's long)
Weight of the World - I don't have much to say about the lyrics. They kind of fit.
"That's just the weight of the world/We do what we must to stay alive/That's just the weight of the world/And we'll all be the weak and the weary sometime"
The instrumentals, tune and vibes is what really makes this song shine for me. Piano (obviously), the general deranged vibes and so on.
For the Departed - reminds me so much of part 20, thought I can't personally decide who's 'singing' the song. It lowkey works from both John's and Arthur's perspective.
"Save yourself/I am far beyond repair/They will bury me alive/But I'm not inclined to care"
More inclined to think Arthur because of the lines:
"Now I must finish what I started, oh-oh/I'll write a symphony for the departed/And I have no time for second chances/So I survive on bourbon, blood, and backward glances, oh"
"And so, the scene begins/Your cries become the wind/A desperate plea best left unheard/Then my contrived goodbye/A poet's pantomime/A drunken jester's final words"
Where we belong - this song. It's literally malevolent in a song. This is the most literal one. I would quote the entire song if I could, but here's some key lines:
"I know we're far beyond the point of no return/Let's say we light a fire and be the first to burn"
"Do you recall the day when we went wrong?/Time is flying/Ease your weary mind, we'll be alone"
"There's a freight train coming, barreling around the bend/There's a red light flashing, oh, ladies and gentlemen, this is the end/I do believe that we've a lesson left to learn/So take your seats, your salutations, and your turn"
"And on the way to our salvation, we'll be making plans/To overthrow the king and pick apart the promised lands"
L.V.S (Your Lady Waits) - makes me think about Oscar, specifically BlindFaith. Very much "you are my reason" vibes. I think it's the overall softness of the song, the emotion in it is so palpable.
"Oh, the mountains bow before ya/Oh, the clouds are open wide"
"Oh, and we, my friend/Will meet again"
"Upon this Autumn morn/Your laughter lingers on"
Villainous thing - This song is so, so, so obnoxiously Kayne to me, as in it feels like a song thats meant to be sung by him. The kinda cheery tune mixed with the lyrics sell it for me.
"Welcome, won't you come inside?/Oh I fear the passing year did not deserve you"
"Soaked and shivered from the rain/You have always been a delicate disaster" - singing about Arthur
"Waste no worry for the world/Let it be a tragedy of love and glory/While they wait by gates of pearl/We'll be building palaces in purgatory" - makes me think of him pitching the the deal with John in like a reverse psychology way. "Oh I'm sure Arthur is fine you can keep building your empire here in the Dark World, king."
Battle Cry - Works in general considering the 'monster of the week' trope this podcast sometimes falls into.
"Hear my battle cry, hear that mighty sound/They've come before and many more will try to strike me down/Hear my battle cry, hear that mighty roar"
The second verse is what really stands out to me though.
"I met a stranger on my way to here from God knows where/He won my lover in a dirty game of solitaire/He stole my crown and placed it crookedly upon his head/He turned around, I took him down and this is what I said" - again, thinking about part 20 (can you tell its my favorite?) The 'stranger' is The King/Hastur/Yellow/Whatever. 'But he's not a stranger?' He kind of is. After Arthur and John are together for so long, even the King admits that he doesn't know why his other half would pick Arthur. John himself had been making small steps at redemption, and just those baby steps made him pretty duffrebt from the King.
"You'll sacrifice the truth to justify your sins/But I don't need an excuse to let the darkness in" - again Arthur and the King. The King does 'bad' shit simply because he wants, yet when Arthur does something moraly 'bad', he has to justify it to himself.
Peace - Very part 31, aka Arthur's Scratch induced nightmare.
"I'd rather live alone than live a lie/I will never deserve peace" - the confessions we get from Arthur about how he felt about Bella
"I spoke to the ghost on my way to asleep/But the boards in the floor called my footsteps a thief" -reminds me of the argument with James. My line of reasoning is that James is the 'boards', and he's calling him a thief because he 'stole' Bella's life by stepping into it, marrying her when he didnt love her, if that makes sense.
"I will never deserve peace/I will never deserve peace/I will never deserve peace" - general self deprication
Diggin' Up Hatchets - makes me think of Larson or in general season 3. A little bit cult-y. It's mostly tune and vibes but the lyrics kind of work
"We're diggin’ up hatchets today/And sharpening the blades/In case, a stitch of hope remains/In this hell that we've raised"
"Hey! We're witnessing the waking of the dead/We’re ripping all the wires from our heads"
"We're burying mercy and grace/In unmarked shallow graves"
"There’s a plan for us lunatics and liars/We have faulty gears and wires/They can't save us, but they’ll do the best they can"
Under the Willow - John theme song in my mind, can't convince me otherwise. Song about discovering one's self and purpose.
"Mother, mother, I think I found my soul/While I was hiding under the willow"
"I've been the portrait of despair/Despite this hat and badge I wear/I've been a captive and a coward" - 'hat and badge' in this case is the crown and robe of the king
"I met a wise man under the willow/Lover, lover, look for me no more/I've been right here under the willow" - Arthur, obviously
"I've been a bastard and a fool/Rewritten nearly every rule/But I believe I'm worth redemption" - the redemption line alone is perfect.
Godspeed - the Jarthur divorce song. Arguing with someone but knowing that in the end you'll find each other again.
"There’s many ways to hide a heart that bleeds/But I prefer the ease of rolling up my sleeves" - might be imagining bit I sweat once John told Arthur that he wears his heart on his sleeve, if not I apologize.
"You’ve got some nerve to be coming/around with that card up your sleeve/And those thorns in your crown" - I think 'card up your sleeve refers to a plan, a secret, which John had many of
"Funny how the night is not as long,/when you depend upon/The dark before the dawn" - John deceiving Arthur many a times. Works well with the repeating line "I used to be someone that you could belive", Arthur starts ignoring and going against John (see, the entire thing with Oscar)
"Good luck, godspeed, I know I’ll see you again/I’ll always call you a friend indeed" - They always get over it and play nice again, until the next argument of course.
Have a Seat Misery - Coda and Intermezzo vibes. Short and sweet. Reads like a conversation between Kayne and Arthur.
"Have a seat, misery/Lord how I’ve missed you/Don’t go crying to me/That I kept you away for too long/Just put your feet up, friend/cause I read all your postcards/And in a way, I am happy to say/That you’ve never been gone"
"Let me light that for you/Seems your hand’s a bit shaky/We’ve got damage to do/And I know you’ll need smoke in your chest/So have a seat, misery/And don't ever mistake me/Of all of my friends, you know/You are the one I like best"
Conclusion/TLDR: Counterfeit Arcade by Shayfer James is, to me, THE malevolent album. Are some of these conclusions a stretch? Probably considering some of the lyrics I didn't present do actually go against the messages of the show, but I had fun writing this and the good(things matching up really well) outweighed the bad(some contradictions). Also go listen to the album or just Shayfer James in general
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akatsuki-shin · 8 months
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I always wonder how Yaga-sensei and Geto's first interaction would be when they meet each other again in that airport afterlife after Yaga died. :')
At the end of the day, no matter how strong and mature he carried himself, Geto was still a 17-18 years old student a.k.a. a teenager when he got hit full in the face with the whole Riko's assassination case. It was probably his first ever, yet extremely hard-hitting trauma.
He literally:
Saw his best friend got stabbed through the chest by an unexpected assassin and had to leave him for the sake of their mission (and later got told he was killed)
Saw the person he was supposed to protect, who had also become a dear friend to him, got shot right before his eyes just as he thought they finally made it, just as he decided they would stake everything in order to grant her wish to live normally as a normal human girl and not a Star Plasma vessel
Saw so many non-sorcerers clapping happily at the corpse of an innocent middle schooler due to their personal, cultist obsession, when he has been living his entire life by the principles that sorcerers should protect non-sorcerers
Continued to exorcise curse after curse by himself, swallowing that horrifying taste of absorbing curses times and again, in order to keep protecting the non sorcerers while already seeing their ugly side in the worst form possible, all the while falling deeper and deeper into the darkness while being left out by his best friend that he thought was once his equal
I think Geto's calmness and maturity is a double-edged sword for himself. Had he been a bit more childlike, maybe his stress and confusion would've shown more on his face and behavior, allowing others to notice and talk to him about it. Had he possessed a more candid or emotional personality, maybe the stress would've made him more impulsive, which will lead to others trying to rein him in and eventually look for the sources of his impulsiveness.
But no, because he is calm and mature, he kept everything bottled up to himself and he kept it hidden so perfectly. Nobody noticed his stress, nobody noticed his confusion, his dilemma, his depression. Nobody realized he was going through great turmoil for so many days and weeks, unable to find a solution. He thought about it by himself, he dwelled in his confusion by himself. Nobody realized he needed help until he was broken beyond repair and exploded — everything at the mere age of 17-18 years old.
And that became one of Yaga's biggest regrets in his life.
After all, he was Geto's teacher. He was one of the very few adults in Geto's life that Geto looked up to and could rely on (or perhaps the only one even).
Despite his scary and stern-looking appearance, we saw him sharing a close relationship with his students, that they have mutual trust toward each other, and that he cared about his students even though he was not someone who would put his honest feelings into words.
(I mean, just look at this scene and try to tell me Yaga didn't love or care for these five dummies)
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And yet despite being the only adult figure they could depend on, despite being their mentor and father-figure in that school, he let two of his students went through the worst experience in life:
Haibara getting killed for the most ridiculous reason that is the wrong mission brief
Geto succumbing to his trauma and depression, and ended up turning into a curse user
Granted, it wasn't Yaga's faults but more because of the flaws of the people governing the Jujutsu society from high above. But I'm 100% sure he felt regretful and responsible for what happened to Haibara and Geto.
He must be one of the first people who was informed about Geto massacring those villagers and I couldn't imagine how it felt for him, to hear his best-behaving student turning into a villain overnight. But he couldn't show it on his face because he needed to tell Gojo about it, and he couldn't possibly show any sign of weakness while Gojo was freaking out in front of him, knowing full well the relationship between those two.
"I wish I had paid more attention. I wished I had been more attentive. I wished I hadn't left them alone."
I think those words were constantly on Yaga's mind up until the moment of his death. In the first place, he didn't even get angry at Gojo for letting Geto go in Shinjuku, didn't tell him to look for him again or go by himself despite Geto's sentence already been announced, and expressed his understanding instead. And I think his "This time we'll completely exorcise the curse known as Geto Suguru!" in JJK 0 is more of the only way he could think of to free his former student from the cursed fate that he believed was caused, among others, by his negligence as his teacher — than a desire to execute a wanted criminal.
I don't think I need to write down anymore proofs of how Yaga was actually someone who thinks deeply about his students and cares about them more than he shows, because otherwise, that conversation between him and Principal Gakuganji in those screenshots above wouldn't even exist, and they wouldn't be showing Geto's face there (in both the anime and manga) while he was speaking about regrets.
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So back to what I was saying in the beginning, I wonder how his reunion with Geto (and Haibara) would've gone in that airport afterworld.
Would Yaga apologize to them first before Geto could apologize for the troubles he caused and before Haibara could express his dismay over Yaga's death?
Or knowing him, he might not put it into words. Perhaps he'd just pat them both on the head before they could say anything and ruffled their hair with his big hands like they were kids.
And this was more than enough to convey his feelings to them, more than any of his words could.
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silverteacups · 9 months
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The Metamorphosis and Nightcord at 25
FAIRLY LONG POST!
Part 2
LYRICS "How do I look like now? Am I unsightly? Of course I am."
This doesn't just represent Mizuki, but Mafuyu. This is also why they were the two to sing Villain - and no, I'm not talking about the trans Mafuyu headcanons. I'd love for that to happen, but I don't think that's what it's about. For Mizuki, it's about how people feel about their secret. They disgust people by being themself, and if Mafuyu were her "true self", she'd probably do the same. A lot of people - namely her mum - accept as the person she's forced to be, not the person she is. In the 3DMV, Mizuki holds up their hand, looks at it, then faces the camera and smiles. I am still human. I am still myself. I can see it clearly. What do you see that I don't? ""I beg you, please don't throw the apples at me." They Lock up, Lock up to themselves-""
In The Metamorphosis, Gregor Samsa's father throws apples at him. One badly injures him, and this line is referring to exactly that. Don't hurt me. Don't turn your backs on me. Don't treat me like filth.
"Of course, I couldn't even have a proper fight with you."
This, obviously, refers to Mafuyu and her mum. When it comes to Gregor Samsa, it might refer to how he can't even communicate with his family. He has no way to defend himself, to explain what he's doing, to explain how much he's struggling. He is suffering, his family is pretty much shaming him for it, and he can't even tell them.
"It's not a joke! Don't eat my dreams away!"
Ena and Mafuyu both got the full line, just to clarify (+ KAITO). I'm not gonna link it to Gregor this time, just point out how this links to Mafuyu's mum not letting her have the career she wants, and Ena's dad discouraging her in terms of her art.
"It's as if you're biting into the apple, Sa-sa-Samsa."
Again, Mafuyu and Mizuki both sang the full line (+ KAITO). Gregor never took out that apple, I don't think - he left it to rot. To me, this symbolises self-sabotage, feeding off something that has hurt you beyond repair. Mafuyu and her mum, for instance - despite everything leading up to the events in Immiscible Discord (and then Saying Goodbye to My Masked Self), she can't hate her. In fact, multiple times before this event, Mafuyu has tried to make it clear that she still very much loves her.
"Even if I'll become a shadow of my former self, I'm right here."
Kanade got this line, but I still think it suits Mafuyu more. Even if she's not the person she acted like she was, even if she'll never be seen the same way, she's still Mafuyu. She can change her name, she can change her appearance, whatever she wants, but that shouldn't change how people feel about her. That shouldn't make her mum turn on her. That shouldn't change anything. In the 3DMV, for this and the next line, the focus is on Kanade and Mafuyu only. These lines are about them. What I've said about Mafuyu, but also Kanade's determination to save her.
"Even if I'm poisoned by the fringed iris."
I spoke about this here. TL;DR: The fringed iris (otherwise know as the butterfly flower) is poisonous and was used around castles to slow enemies. Here, it could refer to Mafuyu's mum again. Putting up walls to protect herself will only do so much, and eventually they'll come crashing down, and it'll only hurt her more. In the 3DMV, she also does a motion like eating an apple, which links back to the biting into the apple point I made. "The light is there, at 25:00 (1 a.m.). Now drag along your tail, Sa-sa-sa-sa-Samsa."
Again, the Samsa is sang by everyone at the same time. Gregor Samsa, as time goes on, finds it far harder to even move. Struggle through your pain, basically, because you'll find that light at the end, at 25:00 - when their group meets up. Again, probably a reference to Kanade trying to save her. Also, During her line, Ena's the only one shown reaching for the light. This could be because she's the only one who's been really and truly saved. Does her art frustrate her? Does she still encounter hardships? Of course she does. But she can face them now, properly. She doesn't have that desire to disappear anymore. Look at I nandesu - she sees beauty in the world, in herself, in love, in her art, in everything.
CARDS
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I've already pointed out the fringed iris, but also that it could be a japanese iris, which represents hope. Then you have Mafuyu, the butterfly. Unlike Samsa, she hasn't changed into a "hideous" creature. She's a beautiful one, in fact. There are other butterflies put on display. I don't think this represents Mafuyu's true self - it shows her "masked self". The one that everyone admires. In this event, Kanade is trying to save Mafuyu from her mum, but from the perspective of her mum, she's not doing that. She's only holding her back. Trapping her. The way I see it, this set is seeing them the way Mafuyu's mum would. Kanade, the charwoman, with her white hair and the almost completely vertical feathers in her hat. At first, the charwoman is the only one not disgusted by Gregor, the only one who has seen the worst and isn't fazed by him, but she turns his room into a dump. A cave. That's what Mafuyu's mum is seeing - someone with good intentions, maybe, but she is ruining Mafuyu's life by making music with her and distracting her from her studies, and Mafuyu sees it only as kindness. Also, unlike the charwoman, she's kept the furniture there. She's keeping what makes Mafuyu comfortable, even if (at least in her mum's eyes) it restricts her.
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When Mafuyu's mum interacted with Ena, she actually got a good impression of her. Ena had to force herself to mention her dad. She told her mum she'd be using Mafuyu as a model. Ena doesn't represent someone from the Metamorphosis, I don't think. Rather, she draws what Mafuyu's mum can't see - her daughter's pain. The fringed iris that keeps her mother from her true self. The apples she's thrown at her so many times. The mirror that Mafuyu has looked into so many times, and seen the same thing each time. She draws these in books, because Mafuyu's studying, the pressure from her mum, all of it, that's where a lot of that pain comes from.
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Don't think they've ever interacted with Mafuyu's mum, but if she knew their secret, this is what she'd see. Someone who seems like a friend, trying to poison her. The opposite of Kanade, basically. This is also a good way to show how people in general see Mizuki, or, certainly, trans people. Mizuki and Mafuyu are both Samsa, and Ena and Kanade are both the charwoman (if you ignore the part where she dehumanises Gregor and such). Also, note the spider necklace. Ena is the only other one with this, with some sort of insect. Gregor finds, at some point, that he can just climb up walls and onto ceilings. In fact, he quite enjoys it. Even then, though space would help, part of him didn't want to have the furniture taken because he's still attached to it. He's still human. That's the thing here. Mizuki has been dehumanised. Mizuki has disgusted people for being themself. They're no less human, yet people continue to act like that's the case.
Samsa, Mafuyu and Mafuyu's Mum
Mafuyu's mum is everyone, really, who isn't Samsa. Maybe not all to start with, but definitely towards the end of the story. I'll go through the list:
Grete, his sister - she started to see taking care of him as a chore, and was the one to propose letting him die.
His dad - after a series of events, he mistakes Gregor's actions for being harmful, throws the apples at him like I mentioned previously. He never cared about his son - he cared about the man who made them money, who provided for them, who was a human. Not the man who didn't appear human, nor the man who loved him even if he couldn't say so, even if he could do nothing to show it.
His mum - so desperate to see him, but disgusted when she did. She loved him still, but she didn't grieve his loss. Rather, she was relieved.
The charwoman later on - She's blunt. She doesn't care about how Gregor feels, because he's been reduced to just a thing. He's dead? Happens to every other insect. No big deal.
And then Mafuyu, of course is Samsa.
Even if other people can accept who she is, what about her parents? Her mum, especially. Will she ever see her the same? Will she ever love her again? Will she ever get that approval again? What happens if she stops meeting the high expectations she set? What happens when she tries to run, when she tries to talk, when she tries to rebel? Will she die thinking of her mum, still, rather than those who truly care for her, and herself? Will her mum continue to hurt her? Is it even intentional? If she could just speak properly, find the right words, could that solve everything, or will it never be enough? If she gives herself away, does that erase any chance she ever had of coming back from it, if that chance was even there to begin with?
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crimmson-sight · 1 year
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CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE SPOT FROM THE NEW SPIDERVERSE MOVIE OMG
he's one of the bad guys I remember the most from the 90s spiderman show and I LOOOVE what they did with him in the movie. Spoilers below I guess
Did you see how at the beginning we can faintly see sketch lines in his character design as if he was still incomplete or under development??? and then as the movie goes on and he acquires more power and more confidence the sketch lines disappear, his black spots start to grow until his entire body is basically black and we're shown through A SICK ASS DISTORTED ANIMATED SEQUENCE how big of a threat he's become????? THAT'S MY SHIT RIGHT THERE UGHHH THAT'S CINEMAA
And i loooved his personality he was so fucking funny at first. He's the real silly goofy to psychotic beyond repair pipeline like yes go off king, let your darkest desires consume you and swallow you whole. Be a menace about it yess
Also I think he's meant to reflect the central message of the movie which is "do things your own way, don't let others tell you what you are or what you're not" but in the worst way cuz like everyone was insisting on how he's just a silly villain of the week and literally nobody pays attention to him like no one cares (which was extremely funny to me) but then the man says "wait? I think I'm capable of more actually let me try a little something" and now he's a legitimate threat to the multiverse. That's right king! make it everyone's problem. I can't wait to see what they'll do with him in the next movie
anyways I love villains, to no one's surprise. Go watch across the spiderverse now. it's insanely good!!
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quirkwizard · 9 months
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What's This-All For One Edition: A Christmas Parody
So I originally was going to make and post this in November for both the Halloween and Christmas special this year given the source material, but something else got in the way of it and took a lot of my spare time. But hey, Christmas has been encroaching on Halloween for a while so who says it can't strike back?
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What's this? What's this? There's power everywhere What's this? A world beyond repair What's this? What am I seeing? A world that's for taking It'll be mine, this I swear What's this?
What's this? What's this? The world within my hands What's this? People bowing to demands What's this? My brother calls me a monster, that I must be insane. He tries to stop my reign? Oh brother, what pain. What is this? What's this?
The ones that fight me steal my brother away from me He gave up his own power, no I could let that be They wield One For All, but all but one of them end up dead Driving me so mad, I may just lose my own head
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Oh look, what's this? A lonely child on the street? Why, my plan may be complete. That hate, will grow A fire He'll walk in my steps, push me forward ever higher What's this?
What's this? In here, the heroes have come by, oh well Guess they'll have to die Oh my! Now All Might is smashing in Time to reveal him to the world and all his shames and sins I shall break him, shake him to the core It's so much fun, it's so much fun Oh, wait is that a fist? What's this?
Oh my, what now? Tomura has returned No hope, no heroes here to save and inspire them or admire them Only vicious villains to ravage across the land What's this?
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The insects coming at me with all their little Quirks They burn, stab and smash me, yet none of it works The hatred's burning in me, growing out to burst Foiling my final plan, this couldn't get worse
My heir, my goal The transfer must take it's toll Yet All Might stands before me The rage is every growing, I'm seeing red I simply cannot stop myself I hate him, yes, I hate him, I want his bloody head I cannot stop, I cannot stop, What has become of my plan?
What is this!?
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pluviacuratio-a · 2 years
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@skepticxsm whispered: ❝I'm almost sober...❞
MEME
{ ♪ } -- "Mmhmm."
She hummed to herself, working to get more water for him and prepare something for him to eat. It'd make the hangover a little easier.
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"Come on, then. Keep drinking water, Skeptic. I'm getting you something carb and fat heavy to help process the alcohol so you don't have that bad of a hangover tomorrow."
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pheonix-inside · 3 months
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Patton’s siblings are—bear with me idk how to phrase this—a genius concept? kudos to you for taking the shorts structures and turning them into Missy and Polly! and Heart who I only vaguely remember but it’s really cool that you DID remember and decided to use the character. (oh and Thomas is there too ig /j)
(my g-d autocorrect keeps changing Patton to Payton argh ANYWAYS)
2. Anton Lyre = Liar = Janus + "Janus was raised to be strategic and self-serving" + "Janus got his shapeshifting powers artificially" = Anton Lyre is Janus’s asshole father who experimented on him and probably messed up his childhood beyond repair? or am I deluded? I might be deluded. but I’m pretty sure these 👀 had SOME kind of purpose, so
3. can I know any more about Virgil/Virgil’s backstory or is that way too spoiler-y?
1. Hehe thank you, I can't take full credit for the idea, a lot of my usage of the shorts characters is inspired by @/tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors fics. I absolutely adore them. Lu literally made characters out of Janus' hat and capelet in one AU!!
And I'm definitely gonna be using a lot of characters from shorts, bc how else are our characters gonna have minor villains to fight? Or minor heroes to fanboy over? I really like adding shorts characters, it makes the story feel so full without me having to squeeze my brain for OCs. It's epic.
2. DINGDINGDING!!! While not 100% right, you are definitely on the money!! Anton is indeed Janus' dad, an ex-hero who went into politics after an injury. And he is AWFUL. He found out his son inherited his mimicry powers and decided to exploit it. He didn't do the experiments but uh. He may have let other people do them.
And the worst part is that as much as Janus hates it, and hates his dad, he met Remus because of that mess, so he can't help but almost have a twisted gratefulness for the environments he was forced into.
Also fun fact Anton's full name is Anthony, and he's inspired by the shorts Antagonist.
3. And sure! I'll tell you what Virgil eventually tells the group, before he eventually just gives them the full story. (which actually happens before Jan and Remus show up fun fact. makes it easier if there aren't multiple conflicting character arcs happening at once lol.)
So all that the gang knows is that Virgil ran away from home at some point, and has been getting by on the streets since then. Eventually he also tells them that his parents are dead, but he refuses to elaborate on how or when it happened. He lets slip to Logan that he wasn't a vigilante until after their death. And considering Virgil had been a vigilante for a few years before Roman, that does not paint a pretty picture.
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fallenwhumpee · 1 year
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“I never should have let it come this far”
Day 28: Failed hero | Hospital stay | Begging for help • Masterlist •
Warnings: Hospital settings, implied suicidal intention(? Not sure, but better be safe than sorry.)
Villain never wanted things to turn out like this. They never wanted civilians to die, heroes broken beyond repair. Death would be a kinder fate for most of them.
They walked through the corridors smelling chemicals and sanitizers, sniffling every once in a while to get rid of the irritated feeling. They stopped before Hero's room, hesitant. Hero had been awake for a full day now, after holding onto life barely for months.
Villain let out a harsh breath, gathering courage and knocking the door.
"Come in," a weak voice came. Villain couldn't believe it was Hero, but slowly opened the door.
Hero was sitting in the big hospital bed, a few IV on their one arm, and the counter filled with various pills. They looked tired beyond years with the dark circles beneath their eyes and an empty expression, their thin body buried beneath the white sheets.
"I never should have let it come this far," Villain whispered, horrified. They hadn't seen Hero after that day.
"No, you shouldn't have." Hero turned to them.
Villain took a nearby seat— or collapsed. Hero was even worse than Villain had first thought. They were looking too pale, their veins visible, and the wide shoulders Hero once had melted completely. Their eyes were dull, unfocused almost.
"I shouldn't have either." They continued.
With that, Villain averted their eyes.
"I should have either killed superhero, or died fighting. There is no place for an excuse of a hero."
"There's still much to do outside," Villain tried to sound hopeful. They needed help with Supervillain, and the only one they could think of for the job was Hero. "Much to protect, much to stand up for. I dont know if you know what happened after, but.."
They breathed. They never had to beg for something before. "We are desperate, need help, your help. I know things don't look good from there, but—"
"Don't lecture me," Hero returned, showing an emotion for the first time— anger. "It's over. Find yourself another rival. Or ally. Whatever messed up relationship we had. There's many others out there who can help you."
Villain opened their mouth to protest.
"Can't you see?" Hero cut sharply. "I'm done with all of this, drained. I will not even make it to the outside of this hospital. I will not fight again. And you can do whatever you want, I don't care!" They winced with pain after shouting but did a decent job with covering. Villain wouldn't notice if they didn't have the years of familiarity.
"Just leave me alone."
It was a plea. Not a demand, even if it sounded like one. Villain sighed and left. Perhaps it would be better to try this in another time.
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robertwalton · 1 year
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Writing ask
1, 3, 5, 11, 23 :)
COLLEEN. the way i saw this and thought very contentedly "well thats nice i should answer right away" and then immediately forgot you sent the ask & went to make dinner for like two hours... THANK U!!! okay.
1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?
tbh so many but the most egregious one is the robert victor breakup heartbreak divorce story. i want to write abt victor coming back and trying to rebuild a relationship with robert/june/all their friends while they both struggle with the pain/get to know each other and themselves as the new people they have grown into after their 3 years apart. i've written bits and pieces about it, but the most defining images i have of the story haven't gone down on paper yet. honestly the reason why i haven't written it yet is because it's soooo heavy and so Real................. i don't feel like i have the necessary life experience to successfully capture it (yet!). i need to either 1) be in my thirties 2) have tried to repair and reignite an insane gay relationship after a heartwrenching breakup OR 3) be touched by true blue beauty that inspires me so strongly in such a blaze of clarity that i can't not write it in spite of everything holding me back
3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?
HAHA i start at the start and that's usually pretty easy, but then the bigger it gets the more i pull it apart and start new sections beyond what i already have and go against chronology etc. i can't write straight front to back... like when i wrote successions, i'm pretty sure i leapt ahead to the aquarium scene WAY early on and built the whole sequence around two major visions: 1) luma's duel with anaris and 2) the image of the shark inside the tank. so i started with those two concepts and then wrote in all directions everywhere at once bit by bit. and on a larger level that's true for the entire writing process. i bounce around constantly whittling away on different sections throughout the story and that helps a LOT when it comes to tying ideas and themes together across the entire narrative. it does mean i have to rewrite conversations and exposition constantly to reflect updated context, tone, or what my characters know/believe, which means editing is, frankly, sooo brutal. BUT WORTH IT
i normally think of it as a surgery... like i get as much of a draft as possible and then i cut it open and start chopping and screwing and then at the end i stitch it all back up
5) character you were most surprised to end up writing?
oh my god there have been so many... it's always the character i don't think has legs to stand on that ends up having the best and brightest most interesting personality and backstory forever. cher. kennick (tbh!). theodred. esme. corinthia. JACKDAW. jackdaw surprises me every time i write him!!!! but most importantly. anaris... not to get back on my successions soapbox but i want u to know that anaris was originally "supposed to" be a straight up and down evil villain with no redeeming or even interesting qualities. and then the story as a whole turned into this kinda beautiful epic about two men who are uncomfortably similar but disgusted by each other's life choices/values & who (despite their very best efforts) end up finding profound meaning and even humanity in their father-son relationship UGH ANARIS!!!!!!! he's a bastard but he's SUCH an interesting bastard and i could write him all day. let's not even forget about the kretz/anaris crackfic because i think that opened up even more interesting parts of his character (i mean. he's an - as far as his own definition goes - entirely heterosexual man who would still rather bottom for men for release/physical pleasure than admit to women that he doesn't have a penis and therefore can't fulfill his own criteria for masculinity, sexually speaking. which i personally think is just so sad and so flawed and so self destructive and fascinating. i mean. lol. colleen it does NOT align with the worldbuilding you released for mestrus today LOLLLL. BUT it's already set in stone it's in print so i'm keeping it)
11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?
HAHA well. i "started" writing as soon as i learned how to read (brag LOL). i have always loved narrative... ive always been making little books and stories... before i knew enough words to write actual stories i was drawing little comic strips and worldbuilding... but for the purpose of this question i'm going to point to the very first "book" i ever finished writing, which i wrote when i was 12! i still have a physical printed out copy of it :-) spiral bound with a cover. since then i would Like to say i've improved just about every single aspect of my writing period. but one thing i kinda pride myself on now that i didn't have back then is character voice. all my characters used to be kinda samey... i watch out for that now and i Try to make characters think and talk differently.
for example i want louriz and mira to be looking at the same situation and have unique opinions about it & respond to it in completely different ways. i try to keep in mind how character psychology would frame whatever it is they're trying to say. i Try to keep speaking patterns consistent and unique so you can tell what character said what even if there are no tags. SHRUG. i don't know if i'm even THAT good at it but it's something i KNOW has improved since i started, bc i actually think about it now and do my best
23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?
mama mia... it's too obvious to say that i'm trans, and on the transgender website i don't think that's even an obscure experience... um... um...................... WELL HERE'S ONE. my entire friend group top to bottom is made up of passionate and creative artists and writers, which means i'm always seeing creation & art explode around me!!!!! (this is the life... bohemia...) when you're exposed to art and poetry and galaxy brain ideas all the time, from your entire social group, it can only help your writing! even when i'm stuck in creative blocks, my brain is tapped into this constant flow of creation and inspiration and sometimes just seeing other people write kinda starts the engine. I LOVE MY FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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otomelavenderhaze · 2 years
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I'm not sure but it seems to me that at some point you had thought about what mclul would have been like if Rayan had stayed married or had a child, can you talk a little more about these headcanons?
I'm pretty sure those were asks that answered in the past - at least the one with Rayan having a kid already when he met Candy in ul.
I think I've mentioned that sometimes I think about alternative scenarios, one of those were Chloe still alive and she and Rayan getting a divorce during mclul, and I also remember me saying that even if Rayan was married I would still play his route - nothing is sacred to me.
But those are just cuz I like the chaos and cuz I grew up watching brazilian novela which is very dramatic, kinda toxic and just the worst garbage to consume - which I did consumed extensively while I was growing up, that and fanfic, it ruined my life. Worst than drugs for sure.
Normally when I picture that one with Chloe still alive is either Chloe is a villain, driven by pure spite and all that good stuff, if she had a mustache, she would twisting the ends of it non-stop. Rayan probably was the one who asked for the divorced and he moved out from their place and is living alone. He was sick and tired of love, but he couldn't help falling for Candy. Chloe often makes things difficult to go through, she always wants more that she's entitle to get, but only cuz she knows that's the best way to drag the situation out and make Rayan forever stay in that fight with her - that's how she keeps the control over him, through their endless fights.
Candy knows he isn't divorced yet, Rayan told her about why the left, about the fights, and how sometimes he couldn't help himself and fight back Chloe with words (of course), but how he was tired of it all.
I would like to think that even though Candy and Chloe will have some tense moments, in which, Candy will act as the adult of the situation, Chloe will realize that whatever she had with Rayan in the past now isn't there anymore; they both twisted and ruined it beyond repair and she will come to that realization specially because of Candy. At the end Chloe will let him go and accept the divorce (she will get her fair part and maybe move away to another country or something to rebuild her life - I do love a happy ending for everybody despite their flaws and shortcomings, besides for a relationship to turn bad, it takes two).
Now the Father!Rayan one: I thought the most cliche kind of story, in which the kid, a boy or a girl don't really matter, around the age of 3 or 4 actually likes Candy and because Candy kinda will help Rayan in situations outside of Anteros and they will grow closer because of those. Also, in this headcanon, Candy just loves and knows how to take care of child (maybe he's a older sister? Maybe she have worked with small kids in the past?).
There's also the most movie like scenario with a kid around 7/10 years that is a) trying to be the cupid for their father; b) hates the person their father is dating at first but that person wins them over and they end up accepting it.
I like the a) option better because I found it more lighthearted and fun. Maybe with a girl it works better but I KINDA, actually, I lie, I would 100% make it a boy, because I love the idea of a mini Rayan walking around the campus trying to fix his father non-existent love life while also being very picky about who would date him.
Mini Rayan would very much be like his dad, but hella more practical and assertive, despite being very child-like and adorable in how he wants to make his dad find happiness. Always making plans and small traps that never work to get Candy and Rayan to grow closer, Candy find them adorable and since she also likes Rayan, she just wings it and somehow make the date work.
I would see them being friends with each other, mini Rayan would complain about how his father have no game and no charms and Candy would simply laugh it off because it couldn't be far from the truth but since Rayan choose not to show that side of him very often around his son (or anyone for that matter) she understands why he would think that way.
Rayan would realize what his son was doing after the 3rd "incident" kkkk which he will be angry at the boy, but not angry enough, because part of him feel relief and happy that mini Rayan is so taken by Candy - Rayan would also scold her lightly for letting the boy get away with those pranks, she will laugh off and ask him how she was suppose to stop such smart and headstrong child.
When mini Rayan tried to pull those again, Rayan will stop him in time but actually turn it into a oportunity to spend time with Candy and sometimes even with his son and her. At some point mini Rayan will realize that he didn't need to do anything anymore to bring them closer and actually do the opposite: start giving them also time to be together. But of course, the best is always when the 3 of them get to share moments together, like a family.
I had a lot more to say about the kid one kkkkkk cuz of course, I find it cuter and more light to think about.
Lately I have me into the "unexpected pregnancy" one too, because I like the angst, but also because it's more about Candy making choices and dealing with the consequences of those choices - which gives her more personality in my head and I'm always for that.
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leckdoesart · 2 years
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Decided to write some @greetingspodcast fanfiction; enjoy some angst.
When he first saw the love of his life, she was dancing on a stage, lights shining down and caressing her body, illuminating the colours of her skin, causing her to glow like something angelic, a goddess who had deigned to grace humanity with her presence. And oh lords, her dancing. Her arms swept around her, her body twisting in a hypnotic spiralling pirouette, encapsulating his mind and pulling him in, and he never wanted to let go. She slowly, gracefully moved back and forth, taking a few steps to her left, then a spinning leap to the right, in perfect harmony with the piano music playing. He was astonished that someone could move so elegantly, to be frank. That someone could be so... beautiful.
The second time he saw her, she was in a coffee shop, ordering a hot chocolate. He was sat at the window, drinking his decaffinated hazelnut latte, when he noticed her. It was night, so the only illumination was that of the soft orange coffee shop lights, warming the colour of what little of her skin showed from under the countless layers she was wearing. A green scarf was loosely wrapped around her shoulders, and her black hair was spilling out from under a knitted green hat. She caught his glance, and smiled at him, and his heart melted as if the very scalding hot coffee he'd been drinking had been poured over it. In that coffee shop, she looked beautiful, and he would never forget that scene.
The third time he saw her, they'd caught each other on the street, and stopped to talk. He'd flirted a bit, and she'd flirted back, and somehow, miraculously, despite the butterflies eating away at his gut, he'd managed to convince her to accompany him for food, a meal in a restaraunt on the nice part of town, his treat, of course. They'd shared a night of witty comments, laughter, happiness, and fascinating conversation. He'd never felt so beautiful. Here, with her, was perfect. This was when he realised, he was in love.
The last time he saw her, she was unmoving in his arms.
His mind flashed as he held her then, countless memories of picnics in the park, her smile as the sunset behind her, snow in her hair, the taste of her lips, the smell of her hot chocolate order mingling with that of his coffee. And the vision of her dancing. She was dancing. And now, she would never dance again. This world, in it's grave cruelty, had taken her from him. From me.
So what choice would I have? What I'm doing, yes, it's evil to some. Some would call me, cruel. Disgusting. Downright wicked. I believe even she, if she could speak to me now, would utter those words. I'm far beyond repair, aren't I? A man like me, can never be redeemed. But I don't care. Let them call me a monster. Let me be the villain they need when they refuse to acknowledge the real problem. I don't care. The one thing I cared about laid dead in my arms that night. I will make this world a better place, even if it doesn't want me to. I will make this world beautiful.
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