#but he do be playing into that generational trauma tho | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fumifooms · 17 days

Text

Chilchuck, family & alcoholism

Collection of thoughts and speculation on Chil’s upbringing, his dynamic with his family and how alcoholism ties into it all. If you want the groundwork info on Chil’s background I recommend my masterpost on his family, here it’s really just me speculating from the crumbs we get of his parents and siblings, how it’s all affected him and in turn affected his own wife and kids etc etc.

There’s nothing more I’d like on mother’s day than to speculate about Chilchuck’s maladaptive attachment style. I’m fascinated by how distant everyone is and how much he’s been devoted to them all despite having been so absent. Intergenerational trauma get over here

Actually it’ll be easier if I make a rundown here too, it’s just stuff I reiterate from my masterpost tho.

Tiny table of contents: 1- rundown: family facts 2- rundown: alcoholism 3- dad 4- parenting 5- daughters 6- wife

^ Every time his dad gets mentioned. His mom never gets mentioned. His siblings I think are only ever mentioned in this extra, and then there are more ambiguous relatives cameos.

We know is hometown isn’t Kahka Brud, but we’re not sure wether he moved there upon getting his own house (presumably around when he got married at 13), or if it’s only after his wife when he rented out his place to relatives then rented the place in Kahka Brud.

If he rented it out to relatives, maybe that meant it was in his hometown? Especially if he and his siblings are "almost strangers" so presumably he doesn’t really keep in touch with his family. And I mean, he hasn’t seen his wife or daughter in 4 years so you can imagine how he’s like with his more distant family…

Additionally half-foots and Chil are very coded to be from an impoverished opressed working class people. So that’s the context.

I’ll say that I mentioned intergenerational trauma at the beginning, and I def think the distrust of elves is part of that, but here I want to focus on the interpersonal effects rather.

Copy pasting my masterpost thoughts overall: Chilchuck is hinted to have had a rather dysfunctional family himself (alcoholic father, distant siblings, etc). So he doesn’t really have the best model on how to raise someone and such. I imagine it was a sort of neglectful home situation, where the kids are encouraged to be independent. If they didn’t have to work or help around much, then a free range parenting sort of thing.

We do see how the family has full and warm feasts, where someone cleans his mouth with a rag, so it’s not like he didn’t have caring people or had a tragic childhood though! I don’t remember if it’s explicitely stated but he’s heavily implied to having grown up poor, as most half-foots, and I just think it’s the hardened hardworking family type of childhood where just like he does with others, they instilled somewhat harsh life lessons in him, which in turn encourages him to indulge in the simple pleasures of life like alcohol and sex, or at least women’s beauty and crass jokes. We do see he seems more optimistic when he’s younger in flashbacks, so a bunch of his harsh view on the world is still likely learned and earned rather than taught.

I still think he inherited many flawed views from how his father acted, like his attitude about excessive drinking not being a big deal, it being worth it. That work hard play hard, enjoy life die young mentality he has, shown mostly in the “alcohol” section of his Adventurer’s Bible profile, could very well be partly a result of the general poverty half-foot communities are that he grew in as well, like how he doesn’t hope for things to be as best as they could be and contends with good enough. As far as I remember, his mother is never mentioned, but I doubt it implies she was out of the picture. She was probably a regular sort of mother that took care of the home and was still around when his father died, not unlike how Chil’s wife was implied to be a housewife. It looks like there’s a good age gap between one sibling to the next, that could be interesting to speculate about too. Mostly though I think it’s big family because it’s just sorta what happens when you regularly have sex and you don’t have contraception, being poor often makes family planning harder for various reasons and leads to more children.

Alcoholism context rundown:

Good Chilchuck analysis baseline here. Alcohol seems to be his main stress reliever/coping mechanism, especially for how emotionally constipated he is, and his job is being stressed about his party’s safety. Then he also mentions as a changeling that having his senses dulled feels relaxing to him, further confirming alcohol, as a drug that dulls senses, is something that he likes for the intoxication aspect and feels it’s relaxing. Alcohol also acts as a hunger suppressant, so it for sure has played a role in his dieting and unhealthy eating/diet habits, especially since he shows the instinct to drink to soothe hunger, all of that about how going hungry for 3 days used to feel manageable. Chil dieting info compiled here.

Chilchuck is at his most effortlessly cheerful when drunk or drinking. Compilation of every time he was drunk here.

And to be clear, a cheerful drunk is still a drunk. He literally will drink anytime he gets the opportunity to even if he’s aware overdrinking leads to health problems and death. Like canonically. He does NOT see how drinking should be a problem and does not seek to show restraint with it.

Dad of the dad

Marcille and Chilchuck having a talk on how losing a dad be like "You lost your dad young too…? I know how it is, it must have hit you hard…" "No not really tbh. Do you want lasagna or chicken for dinner?" <- either genuinely doesn’t feel much about his dad’s death or has 10 layers of repression, idk which is worse

I think Chil not making a big deal out of his dad’s death, not having worries in following into his footsteps that way in the least, is super interesting.

As a buddy @saccharineomens puts it: " I kinda imagine chilchuck and his dad didn't have a bad relationship, but in general chilchuck is so blase about drinking (he sees it as a delightful time, a wonderful thing! he wouldn't mind dying doing something he loved!) that he's not very upset about his dad's passing? like "yeah, he died, but i was already an adult, he was an adult, he made his choices, i make my choices, it's cool" " And I’ll nitpick that we don’t know how old he was when his dad died, I always assumed it was pretty early since Chil left home when he got married, and like I’ve gone into he doesn’t seem to be the keep in touch type. It’s on the table though, and he could have learned about it through letter if nothing else and that contributes to the "meh" reaction.

And that is very Chilchuck, the whole "we made our choices, it is how it is, he died doing something he loved", and you can totally believe that that’s the crux of it, but I do think the nonchalance hints at the family overall being distant and not only the siblings, that there’s dysfunctional shenanigans going on in there more than just… Healthy coping and having moved on.

I wonder when Chil first drank… And I wonder how he came to realize he liked alcohol a lot. His father probably gave him sips… Or he stole them

No because, with how disaffected he is about his father and siblings I could definitely see him having started to kind of numb himself/dissociate with the help of alcohol in that home environment that felt so… Either devoid of feelings or too messy to get attached. I can totally see his family being one that encourages dealing with feelings by bottling them up.

Because too… We saw him have a family/community feast of some sort presumably when he was a kid, in that chapter cover, so it’s not like there’s no warmth or sense of family at all, but then like… What went wrong? If as I theorize that girl with short black hair in that panel is his future wife, since she’s his childhood friend and all, what if his family/home life was always kind of cold and distant, even when gathered and cheery or despite those occasions? So then it’s like, at the family gatherings, she’s the most important person there to him, the one he actually connects to the most, the warmest presence he has…….. Someone he jokes around with that feels on the same speed as him, that doesn’t have the same connotations as everyone else present, a bit of a haven, someone different, a breath of fresh hair and a regained sense of childhood… Spitballing of course of course

I feel like they had a pretty big family and they were poor and such so there were always chores to be done etc, so their household might have operated like a mini busiess of sorts where everyone’s too busy, always has this and that to do and the mother asks them to go do tasks. I used to think it might be more of a neglect situation, where the kids are expected to provide for themselves and so cook their own meals and whatnot, both parents distant, but I don’t think so with the feast illustration. Chil at the beginning of canon used to see eating as a practical thing more than anything, you have to eat to live but don’t eat much or your weight will make your job more dangerous, might as well skip meals and have beer instead, etc etc. So the thought that he doesn’t know how to cook all that well despite this speculated background where he cooked for himself and keeps cooking minimalistic, since he does tell Senshi he taught him about cooking, is fair, but still… There could definitely be a situation where his older siblings were pushed into a parental role too, where they helped with the food and raising the younger siblings etc etc. As mentioned, the age gap between siblings may play into the dynamic as well. But on this front I have less ideas…

So yes my general take on Chil’s family is that everyone was too busy to emotionally connect as much as is normal, the parenting leaving things to be desired with alcoholism and emotional neglect.

Fathering

And I think that’s especially interesting considering he hasn’t been keeping in touch with his daughters either. It’s "they’re independent now" and that’s kinda it. His daughters haven’t sent him letters or visited him or tried to make him talk to their mom again. It does feel like with his own parents and siblings to me, where people are almost strangers, where relationships grow apart and everyone shrugs and goes ‘that’s how things are’. Is it that everyone including all his daughters gave up on trying to keep in touch, or is it that they all went "well divorced or not he’s absent, this is our normal tbh", and which is worse?

So yes, I think his relationship with his daughters is probably similar to his relationship with his parents, sort of hands off. Chil's dad was probably not a good dad but probably not quite a bad dad. A definitive He Was There, to quote another friend heh

Imo the thing with Chil is that he was pretty absent bc of work travels to dungeon dive, right. He’s working hard to provide for his family but in the process he’s not spending much time with them, slowly making a gap grow between him and them as they drift apart and change as people. He’s a career dad who never realized spending time with his family was more important and threw his pager into the ocean— But also here’s the thing!! You want to say being his family is more important, but money is arguably more important! They’re poor, they don’t have the privilege of free time as much. Sure he’s not there, but he is providing for them what they need to keep living and growing healthily. Similarly, you want to say Chil should stop doing harsh dieting for weight management, but, he has a point, maybe starving is still preferable than dying in traps. Of course the ideal would be to change jobs, but again, life is a struggle and that’s not always an option.

^ Truly the classic "if you don’t listen to me, your parent, a cryptid is gonna kidnap you!" international experience………

He is so so so the "What? My way of parenting is kinda bad? But my father raised me like that, and look how great I turned out!" <- emotionally dysfunctional…….. "Pshhh what do you mean having an alcoholic parent negatively affects you? My father was an alcoholic too and look at me" 🤡

All of it was behavior normalized to him. And listen, I’m saying this but not as like, shirking of his part in it. This isn’t a teen or young adult, he’s middle aged, he’s become the one giving and not receiving the generational trauma. He’s chosen to never think deeper on the topic.

And like, he himself is so indifferent to his father and what their relationship was like, of course he wouldn’t notice if a parenting choice wasn’t great for his daughters. He doesn’t have a relationship with his dad, he’s not (at least not consciously) traumatized by him, so from his perspective it’s mission success! He got raised decent enough 👍⭐️ Except he doesn’t realize that like, not particularly caring if he died is sign of a problem between them in itself… And this even as he remains somewhat of an important figure in his life, especially since that’s who he sees on the other side of the life river in the ghost chapter. It’s implicitly the biggest instance of loss through death Chilchuck has in his life I think.

But despite it all he obviously does love his family a lot, right. So I do believe that like, while he has imperfect standards when it comes to parenting he still tries to be better than his dad was, that even if it’s necessary that he has a lot of long work travels, he spends time with them. And there’s sort of this dissonance that he’s both "it doesn’t matter wether i’m here or not, they’ll live, they’re tough girls. Oh they didn’t like my scolding earlier? It’s just how kids are" dismissive and "I love them so much and I want them to have a good life. I want to do my best by them" devoted and so so caring. And like that’s why he works so damn hard, he does it for them, but also that’s why the girls grew up with an absentee father and aughhhh AUGHHHH the unsolvable dilemma of it all Chilchuck in Dunmeshi truly represents like, the harshness of reality & the world and how sometimes things will just suck no matter what, and then of course balancing that with Marcille in their shared arc where she tacks on "And despite that there is beauty everywhere even in the small and menial things, despite that your flawed relationships and dreams are still worth fighting for" ie giving reconciling with his wife a shot, etc.

All that said I think the very strict "you’re gonna grow up to have a stable job by god, young miss" attitude, those strong work ethics he highly values and focuses on and no doubt tried to instill in is own kids, is something he somewhat inherited from his own upbringing and parents.

In my masterpost bit on his parenting, I said I don’t think he’d do any kind of corporeal punishment, but. I do wonder about spanking aftee all. It can be so so easy to rationalize it… Sigh

Daughter pov

Again, my general interpretations for the daughters are written in my masterpost. I think Patti knows her father the least and is the one least worried about jobs and stability and least settled down as a result. Flertom is the more social one who I imagine tended to be the one worried about her parents’ couple and their emotions the most. And Meijack… Ohh Meijack.

When your father tried his best to provide for you but he worked all the time and even when he was home he was either tired or stressed and he’s always liked to get drunk to relax and cheer up. When you know he values work ethics and respectability so you grew up to be capable and quiet. And when he says you’re like him you’re sort of puzzled, does he really know you so little, or does he know himself so little? But you like the feeling of your father ruffling your hair so you accept it and still you stand next to your mother just as quiet and just as stoic during family gatherings. He leaves again and again and when your mother leaves him nothing changes, really. You wonder if it’s more telling that you know him better than he seems to himself or that you don’t know him as much as you wish you did, or that you don’t think about him all that much these days. Out of sight out of mind

Thinking of those posts about how kids never forget and during the "draw your family!" things at school, some of the kids draw their working parents seperate from the rest of them...

Absent father and when he’s at home you get the crumbs of him that you get and you’re grateful for it and that’s that <333

She doesn’t know how much he loves them bc he hasn’t showed them in a long time </3

The horror of drunk Chil in my fics is often about what in this state he can’t do rather than what he could do, how someone who’s as proud of his skills and work ethics as he is has truly changed, not comprehending how he could become so sloppy or how he could allow himself to get like this, marred the values he preaches above all else. It’s in the way that he fumbles with doorknobs, that he could never lockpick a door if you were to lock it, and it both being your salvation and bringing you extreme distress at the thought of it all. His footsteps usually featherlight now sound heavy as stone, like a troll’s.

You know the thing that gets me so bad with alcoholism angst is when people describe the drunk person as a stranger. Often making a metaphor that they’re monsters, have some monster they shapeshift into uncontrollably once in a while, as a way to split the unreconciliable halves of the person sober and drunk in your vision of them……. It gets me soooo bad Little Puckpatti growing up on tales of trolls kidnapping disobedient kids and replacing them with doubles so no one even knows they��re gone… Coming face to face with a drunk Chilchuck that roams the halls of the house with heavy steps in the night, because she wanted to go drink a glass of water, too thirsty to sleep………..

And this is where I reveal that I wrote a fic about just that!! Trolls that thump and tiptoe through the night Mei @ Chil, You made me of stone and still every day you wear me down and chip away at me bit by bit

In the end notes I describe my takes and interpretations: With Mei I tried to give the sense of a kid who sacrifices some parts of childhood to feel closer to her parent, like not playing games to spend more time with him no matter how empty, or wanting to be worthy in his eyes. With Fler, since she was the one in canon to take in their mother and write Chil a letter explaining the situation, I feel like she’s always been the one most involved and aware of the problems in their family. The one most there to emotionally support or to understand what the vibes in a room meant. Puckpatti I think knows her father the least, since with time I think Chilchuck was more and more away from work and more and more cynical like the flashbacks of younger him dungeon diving. I think because of her not minding unstable odd jobs that she’s the most passive, that she’s the most go with the flow. I do also love when Mei is the one most aware of her parents’ flaws and most critical as the eldest, but not in this fic. Meijack grows up to never touch a drop of alcohol, what people joke is the one difference between her and her father. Flertom drinks, too much sometimes, but she considers drinking should be a social activity rather than a habit. Puckpatti only drinks on special occasions when she has the chance.

They already don’t have that much time together because of his work, I wonder how big of a percentage the amount of memories the daughters have of him are when he’s not himself truly… How they kinda reconcile it all. It’s their normal.

And the thing that’s gutting too, is that Chil always looks so so much more open, relaxed, cheerful and happier when drunk than he usually is. He doesn't know how to get his defenses down without alcohol

"you're all that's good"

Because we do see how he truly used to not be so closed off and bitter. But distrust and fearing for betrayals from both coworkers and then his wife aka the person who’s supposed to be closest to him (he doesn’t even have close family besides his daughters. Does he even have close friends) turned him into what he is now. He was so cheerful!! Happy and trusting and optimistic.

He leaves and she left

God there’s the whole ‘wife leaving him’ trauma too is the thing… It had to have fucked him up so bad like no wonder he got paranoid and decided not to open up to ANYONE like. He never saw it coming is the scariest thing. He didn’t expect her to just up and leave. He didn’t see the warning signs. He won’t know if it’s coming this time either.

….. But then also, why he didn’t reach out to her (besides hurt) was because it was a petty silence treatment, like "oh she left without saying a word? Fine well I won’t reach out to her either" <- man who is so not fine and collected about it. It’s been FOUR YEARSSSSSSS I wonder if he always was like… "This week she’s gonna send a letter. … Ok fine, this month she’s gonna crack. … Within the year she’ll come crawling back." and it’s a bit why it was allowed to go on for this long unchecked like… Why he still considers her his wife even though functionally she’s more of an ex by that point after 4 years.

I can never stop thinking about him and his wife they’re fucking crazyyy. Him not reaching out to her started as a silent treatment from frustration. She never reached out to him either, she just up and left, didn’t even leave or send one last letter she’s just gone and has left this all behind, the house and everything in it. It’s been 4 years but he still considers her his wife and considers themselves only "estranged", "due to circumstances we haven’t seen each other in years". His face in the panel he said this is interesting too, trying to be casual but defensive and exasperated, already dreading the judgement and questions. He moved out of his house to rent a place in Kahka Brud instead. How much of him not reaching out was avoidance… Guilt, frustration, sadness, confusion, just procrastinating and dread and fear of a rejection more concrete, or something else… Maybe realizing he doesn’t miss her as much as he should, not enough to chase after her or try to get her back, just resigning himself to it… Is he a bad husband, is he a bad person? Should they reconcile?

Not seeing it coming… It’s half trust, that this person who’s so dear to you could never just up and leave and hurt you like that, half entitlement, thinking that she would never think of leaving, and third it’s blinding himself to the warning signs, not wanting to believe or acknowledge them. Because like, there WERE some, he said she "suddenly fell into a bad mood on the way back [from the outing]" and I don’t think he’s too dumb to be aware that something was off, he literally just dismissed it and then went surprised pikachu face when it turned out things were indeed off.

Part of it is definitely, how do you even react if your wife walks out on you without warning. If it happened to me I think that I wouldn’t reach out for a while either, wait for them to reach out to me first, give them space. As I put it in one of my marchil wips, "I respect your right to be rid of me too much to try and shackle you to me if you want to leave". Inaction is easier than admitting he’s scared to check and find out that the worst case scenario is true. It’s been years and he still hasn’t worked it out why she left. Do you think that’s on purpose. That he doesnt want to know for sure. It’s so so so scary to try and do anything about it

He said he didn’t reach out right away when she left because he was petty and wanted to give her the silence treatment back. Ok but is it that he blames her for their marriage falling apart or does he blame himself and he’s just misdirecting the conflicted feelings? Did he not reach out because a part of him was too scared to know why she left or if she would refuse to come back? Did he just think that she’d come back on her own, and things would get fixed while still staying unsaid and unconfronted like they always have, the first month, then the next and the next, until it was a year in and it sunk in that oh, maybe she wasn’t coming back?

He seems genuine here when he says that he was angry about it and gave her the silent treatment, but it is an habit of his to lie to make himself look worse instead of showing vulnerability, so who knows.

He is so so scared of being affected by relationships. Same thing with his compulsive habit to disguise his worry for anger. It’s why he doesn’t want people to have expectations of him, "I’m a coward I’m selfish", because then they can’t be disappointed, they can’t be surprised if he bites, they can’t leave when you lose what they’ve been staying for.

He has avoidant tendencies too. Every time there’s an interpersonal issue he just accepts it’s out of his control immediately. He’s passive when it comes to relationship problems, just like with coworkers, relationships are a ticking time bomb to him, and he just wants to be left out of it and come out unscathed. It comes back to his pessimism. He doesn’t think that like, things could be better. According to him life is tough and cruel, you accept your lot in life and make the best out of it and that’s it. If people are scummy you don’t whine about how unfair it is, you close yourself off and work to not be taken advantage of again and adapt. So then with his wife, when Marcille is like "Have you tried… Talking?" it’s such a crazy idea that it might work at all, that he could have the power to fix things… And that’s why it’s such a big deal when he goes "Alright I’ll try… I don’t know if it’ll go as well as in the stories, but I’ll try". That CRUMB of allowing himself to be hopeful is so huge

Honestly for the longest time I misread this bit, I thought she left in the night like how Marcille framed it, but no she left after he left for work. She left after he left again.

The way it’s told, it really sounds like Chilchuck just came home from work, stayed probably a couple of days in which they went to that outing together, then left for work again right away/soon after and it’s like. Was that outing the most special thing you guys did together. You came home from like a month of work, you had one outing where she ended up having a bad time, y’all didn’t talk about it further and then you left for another couple of weeks. Are you kidding me

Your married life is waiting for your husband to come home, spending mediocre time together, being shut down when you voice discontentment, and things being left unaddressed before he leaves again.

She left when he was gone for work, but did she leave the day of, or did she flip flop on it and took a while before working up the strength to leave? Was she waiting to see if he’d say anything before leaving and when he didn’t that was the last straw?

Chilchuck trying to prove a point that half-foots can make it out there, trying to rely more on himself because that’s the only person he can trust. His wife feeling like he's leaving her behind (because he does. over and over and over and over.) This guy just keeps throwing himself into work because he thinks it's what's best for everyone. Hey sir neglecting emotional needs can be kinda detrimental to everyone involved, I think you might wanna know that ^ quotes courtesy of @soappox

And to come back to alcoholism for a bit, alcoholism is alcoholism, and someone asked why I thought that a Chilchuck with depression would drink and cope through alcohol, since drinking seems to be something cheerful to him. It does puzzle me a bit but it’s worth going over, so… I don’t think him using drinking as a coping mechanism is far fetched at all. Cheerful drunks that are alcoholic still can absolutely use alcohol in ways like that. If something makes you happier, or even just more numb which translates to you feeling more free etc etc, then I definitely think it tracks that he’d keep drinking. Like personally I do think he’d drink a lot after his wife left him, and in rough patches like that. Depression -> not wanting to have to think, the days are blurring together and you either don’t want to be conscious or you want to feel something etc etc -> drinking for the alcohol. Alcoholics tend to be, well, dependent on alcohol. If something bad happens etc they’re usually more likely to go harder on it rather than stop. We can debate on when and why Chilchuck first started to drink but it’s straight up his favorite food now and it’s deeply ingrained in his life, in his favorite outings and activities and priorities and moods and meals. A CHEERFUL DRUNK IS STILL A DRUNK!!! They drink to get happy not drink because they are happy, though obviously the two can have overlap.

Chil represses sooo much. His solution to interpersonal conflict and feelings is just don’t think about it and dull your feelings & senses to everything ✨ I love him. I need to kill him with hammers Like the other day I was thinking about an AU where he might have ran away from his neglectful home or something, but then I remembered he deals with everything including his family by dulling his feelings and senses to things 🫠 He wouldn’t leave

I’d say he doesn’t look troubled by loss through death, moreso loss through mistakes. His nightmare is his daughters dying yes, but moreso them being killed, there’s an axe in the wall etc, it’s about having failed to protect them.

If he can’t fuck something up or if he’s already fucked it up there’s this pacifying sense that he can’t have the rug pulled from under him, because that’s what having connections is, having a wife isn’t an insurance it’s a rug waiting to be pulled. And his brand is sort of Flawed Mr Mistakes Man so he’s kinda been having to cope lol. I do think he throws himself into workaholism, because it’s sort of the only way to live he knows, making yourself capable and useful and spending his days working like that, less time to think, too tired to think. Senses dulled, senses that are usually too sharp, cutting with clarity that he prefers ignoring and avoiding. Work is something he doesn’t have to feel through, something that gives him pride and self-esteem, something through all the danger and life or death risk feels safer, emotionally. No one taught him how to deal with things another way, it’s always been suck it up and work.

Conclusion

Stop smoking we love you and we don’t want you to die

No drinking will not externalize your feelings no it won’t vent them out well please Chilchuck ple-ea-ease…….

</3 They should invent an alcoholism that doesn’t make you dysfunctional and hard to be around

^ Drunk, by The Living Tombstone

I’ve been thinking about enneagrams and Chil is 6w7 highkey. Becomes 3 when stressed, a little 8 but it’s more that he wants security so much that he becomes paranoid rather than having the core of an 8 y’know. I haven’t dug into it for quotes yet but this paper goes hard if you’re curious.

Dropping my relevant Spotify playlists here bc why not: Chilchuck & his wife, marchil angst

#I’m allergic to making short casual speculation posts apparently #Dungeon meshi #chilchuck tims #chilchuck’s family #Chilchuck’s wife #theories #meta #analysis #It was mother’s day when I decided to gather my old discord message and work on posting this so. Not fixing that intro #I’m always too late </3 #Marcille singing A Girl Worth Fighting For @ Chilchuck #Spoilers #i lost half of this post TWICE. This is my Joker arc #Hopefully i can finish my web weaving about this today #Chilchuck is so cool I wish dads were real #Chilchuck “my family doesn’t need me” tims #This almost killed me it’s not even the topic it’s bc tumblr wanted me dead. This silly post. It was supposed to be CASUAL and SHORT #Analysis #i just ended up talking about chil a lot again. Give me excuses to talk about him more #Character analysis #meijack #Puckpatti #flertom #fanfic #Fumi rambles

142 notes · View notes

areyoudoingthis · 7 months

Text

you're genuinely missing out if you don't read stede as having a funky superpower that protects him from the horrors of the world when he's being true to himself and deserts him when he tries to emulate the idea of a man the world wants to impose on him.

he defeats the badmintons without trying because they're bullies and they're just plain wrong all the time. they attack everything that makes stede lovely: his tender heart, his love of soft things, his beautiful body. they mock him and they hurt him and they die for it practically without stede having to lift a finger. the narrative avenges him.

he bewitches ed body and soul without realizing he's doing it, just by being himself, because he's funny and sweet and he gets ed's love for the bit and he's the first person who's happy to join in on his silly games. also because he's kind and generous and an absolute bitch, and because he makes ed feel safe to let down his armor around him, which is the thing ed wants most in the world. and so ed rescues him from the firing squad, because stede's unwittingly earned his devotion.

he turns the crew's opinions about him around in a few weeks by telling them bedtime stories and doing the voices for them without shame, like they're his kids. he comes up with fun activities for them, encourages them to talk about their feelings and offers to share his books with them (not his clothes tho. he's silly and oblivious and a spoiled only child after all). so by the time the british show up they've started thinking maybe things are better this way, maybe stede's showed them a better way of living (olu knew all along because he's soft and smart too), and they rally to defend him.

he defeats a much more skilled and experienced swordsman by thinking on his feet and being whimsical, throws izzy off his game by smacking him in the ass with his sword instead of stabbing him because he knows he can't win, so he comes up with a tactic that has the most chances of success for him in the moment.

he rescues the crew from zheng's ship by knowing about chamomile (sure, jan) and being the congenial towel guy. he rescues the crew and everyone else again from ricky and his goons by making them play dress up, and it works!!!! (minus that one exception, you know). he has the situation under control with ned's gang within minutes just by listening and paying attention to the way they feel about him and his treatment of them. he knows exactly what to say to turn them around, compliments hellkat maggie so deliciously because he's a charming bastard at all times.

but he's lost the magical protection of his whimsical stedeness by turning against himself by the time he's picking a fight with zheng. he's spinning with unresolved trauma and heartbroken and probably exhausted and hangover by the time she tries to poach olu, jim and archie, and then she insults ed (not cool, girl), so he lashes out. he's not defending or protecting anyone this time, not his crew nor ed nor himself. zheng isn't a bully or a villain, she hasn't attacked anyone, only accidentally hurt his feelings. he's lost sigh of the goal that's driven him since the beginning of season 1. there's no ed by his side and he isn't running towards him, he's not working to make a nice, safe world for the people he loves either.

he felt attacked by low the previous night for not measuring up to the ideal of a man and a pirate that's constantly being dangled in front of him, and he triggered his most painful memories by killing him the way he did and then refused to deal with them, chose to overcompensate and throw himself wholly into pursuing that ideal instead. and this is the price he has to pay: his crew wants to leave with zheng and she humiliates him in public and kicks his ass (very cool, girl). every trick he tries to pull fails, like a wizard that's been cut off from his magic.

it's not until he's reorganized his priorities the next morning and he's back to being stede that things turn around for him (but not until he's near ed again, zheng still has to rescue him from the two british soldiers he tries to ambush). and even then he's not a perfect fighter, can fend for himself but needs help to pull his sword out of that one guy so he can run towards ed. and it's so important that he needs help and that he gets it. it's been stede against the world his whole life, and now he finally has allies and friends and a lover who will support him and fight for him.

#hello????? I'm crying again if you care #ofmd #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #alex watches ofmd #i love this bitch!!!!!

352 notes · View notes

pupmkincake2000 · 5 months

Text

So, after finishing Gale's origin, I think I'd play Astarion's. Don’t get me wrong, but it’s interesting for me to watch the romance with Gale from Astarion's POV, from the very beginning to the very end, because after reading some fics, I realized that I had never seen such a plot before. I mean falling in love with Gale right away, and not after all the events are over. That would be an amazing slowburn.

What do I mean, you ask? I noticed that when people write about this couple, it often comes up like this: Astarion is usually in a relationship with Tav, but when he/she/they reject him (remember the opportunity to remain friends with him, right?), Gail, according to the plot, usually invites Astarion to settle down in his tower and feelings arise later. Even if they flirted with each other before.

And although such stories are well written and interesting to read, I can’t help but feel that there’s a certain… wrongness in such a relationship? I mean, Astarion gets everything right away without doing much, home, a handsome lover who takes care of him and will do anything for him, yet Astarion himself does nothing to get anything of these after the game ends.

People usually justify this by saying that he has already suffered enough and deserves all the best. And I agree that yes, he really deserves it. However, I believe that in this case he achieved nothing on his own. He saved the world, yes, he killd his master, yes, but still... it happens when he has his friends around who would support him and a lover who he seduces for this particular purpose.

Of course, by this point he may already be in a full-fledged relationship, but it all started with a specific goal, right? And don’t think I hate him, I don’t, as I don't blame him for anything, anyone in his place would do everything to get at least some protection and hope for something better. I don’t know if I can explain what I mean in a best way, but I'll try.

Astarion simply moves in stories from under the protection of one lover to another. And usually in such cases, Gale insists that Astarion doesn’t owe him anything… and here I also agree, but in this case the question is: what did Astarion himself do to deserve all of this? Past suffering, it seems to me, is not a sufficient reason to give him everything at once and it doesn't mean he has to suffer more or anything. That is, as soon as Tav breaks up with him (or he with Tav), Astarion falls in love with the one who turned out to be as kind, more generous, who never demands anything in return. And there is, it seems to me, something not quite right in this.

What am I getting at? I would like to see Astarion's story, from a POV of a person who undergoes development, not just getting everything the best as a reward for his suffering. For example, I would like to watch the story from his point of view, when he falls in love with Gale, and for the sake of this love he begins to change, fight his traumas, outgrow them, because he realizes that, perhaps, for the first time in his life, he has fallen so deeply in love.

Without a relationship with Tav (I don’t like it at all when Tav is in the plot, they seem too unnecessary), but independently decided to change. And I want to say right away that by the word “change” I don’t mean anything bad, since he still changes when the player has a romance or friendship with him.

But for me, for example, it would be interesting to observe these changes, this growth, the struggle with traumas because of his love for Gale. Because there is someon who he cares about, not just about himself.

Let's be honest, Astarion is more a taker, Gale is a giver. Sometimes such relationships work but not always. Some people love to give, some people prefer to take. But I do not think it would work for them.

I see them as equals. Or at least are trying to be.

And yes, it can be love from the first sight (why not?), or the relationship can begin quite like in canon: with manipulation and seduction (tho I've never seen a fic in which Astarion falls in love right away), but then the realization comes that this is not just a hook-up that means nothing, but a connection that means, and not just to get someone as an ally who would help kill Cassador (after all, you can kill him simply by being friends with Astarion).

Although love at first sight from Astarion's perspective would be quite interesting, since Gale does not seem at all like a person who is easily manipulated and seduced.

There is something incredibly attractive about experiencing the whole story of this love from beginning to end (and despite the slowdown, they can still sleep with each other), and only then, when the final battle is over, they can go to Gale’s home together , but not because Astarion has nowhere to go and he again risks being left alone, but because by that time he and Gale will already be in love and confess their feelings to each other (I think it will be even more interesting to watch from Astarion's POV), and therefore they will no longer imagine their life without each other.

It will all look even tastier if it all happens long before the final battle, because Astarion will already have something to lose.

I want Astarion to try as hard on the relationship as Gale usually tries in fanfiction to heal his injuries. But I have almost never come across stories where they both worked on the relationship and healed each other equally. In most stories, unfortunately, Astarion gets much more, with almost no effort (we are not to talk about his past suffering), and this is just frustrating, as if he is not able to build his happiness on his own.

Someone may mention his traumas again and I understand perfectly well that not everyone can overcome their nightmares alone. But that’s why I mentioned that I would like to see how both work on relationships. In the game, Astarion is the one who takes, and Gale is more the one who gives (which I've already mentioned), but I would like to see equality, so that both give and take equally. And from Astarion's perspective, this would be incredibly interesting to watch, mainly precisely because he is the one who takes, he isn't used to give, but for his beloved, at least when he realizes he's in love, he would want to do more. To be more than just a taker.

You don't have to agree with me. But this is how I would like their relationship to be.

Oh, one more thing

I see Astarion as someone who tops, I do not mind switching, but top Astarion and bottom Gale sounds nice♡( ◡‿◡ )

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #astarion #astarion ancunin #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion x gale #bloodweave

129 notes · View notes

wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Note

I just thought what type of personality is thier child like and what type of dad they are.

Example: Daniel's child will be a chubby child like he is, probably shy and cute child. Daniel would be a dad that give confident to his child so they won't exprience hardship like and also both of them will have a shenanigans of eating in the middle of the night.

Gun's child would be mini Gun but doesn't look for fight like his dad. You can say the child is more of gentleman than Gun tendency. The child probably be like "Mom, How and why did you marry dad" Points at thier father who is rampaging in fight.

Thanks for the ask Sam and sorry it's taken so long 😭

Agree with your HC altho I wonder if Daniel might swing too much the other way being a health nut (after all the bullying and Lookism) and you would have to help him find a happy medium??

Lookism Boys as dads + what their kid is like

Wow that's a mouthful. HC for Jake Kim, Samuel Seo, Warren Chae, Goo Kim, Ryuhei Kuroda, Eugene, Vasco, Zack Lee, Johan Seong

General HC

Most would take after their dad and be at least adept with fighting

Unless specified they would turn out pretty ok. We all know the flaws these men have (except Jake he can do no wrong 🙏) so the coparent needs to balance that out

Jake and Samuels kids would be bff, much to chagrin of Samuel lol. He ends up seeing Jake far too much for his liking but his kid is happy so what can he do

Warren's kid and Yenna bff. Duh

Goo's and Ryuhei's hate each other at first. Always getting each other into trouble. Until. Wow, think of the chaos we can cause TOGETHER

Gun's kid IMO would probably get on with someone like Eugene's. But would be hilarious if they got swept into the Vasco/Zack/Johan dynamic

Eugene's is a bit of a loner. All the fancy upbringing means they have connections and networks rather than close friends 😔

Vasco's, Zack's and Johan's would be like siblings. Constantly pick on and insult each other. They're allowed to. But if someone joins in - WTF DID YOU JUST SAY?? YOU WANNA FIGHT?

Jake Kim

As a dad

Listen. I don't know whether my levels of delusion are way off with this man but he can do no wrong. He would be the best dad, best househusband. He would be harsh but fair and sooo much fun. Unfortunately your kid would be spoilt rotten with all the Big Deal Uncles and Auntie.

The kid

Like father like son/daughter. Absolute unwavering sense of right and wrong, maybe sometimes not too understanding of the shades of grey. A confident kid and heartbreaker - not purposely tho but their rizz will be off the charts like their dad. Of course a natural born leader. That runs in the family too.

Warren Chae

As a dad

Oof. If you thought he was protective over Sally then you have another thing coming. Needs a bit of talking around to give them their freedom and experiences. Apart from that you really can't complain. Warren has an infinite amount of patience. Also reads to them all the time to stop himself missing out words.

The kid

The cutest kind-hearted little soul! Would just be so nice and sweet! Super well adjusted and surrounded by loving adults (Hostel), and also Grandpa Manager Kim. Yknow the kids who are also constantly dirty? Like constant speck of dirt on their face? Yeah also that.

Samuel Seo

As a dad

It might be better if you're a single parent because he is gonna pass on some gnarly generational trauma. Your child will either end up like a mini-Samuel or fingers crossed there will be shitloads of therapy (for daddy and child).

The kid

Strives for perfection, and super ambitious. There's no avoiding some traits. Another natural leader, but rules less with an iron first than Sammy. Would be vain af, and looks after their appearance a LOT. A bit shallow and judgemental but will eventually grow out of it.

Goo Kim

As a dad

Shrewd af and always knows what's going on. Good luck to their kid because there is no lying to Goo. He'll play along and then drop the hammer. However, a bit too lenient so you would have to be the disciplinarian. Lets the kid just get on with things and learn by experience. "Oh you wanna play with the sword? Have fun!" "GOO NO-!"

The kid

Little shit. Sorry there's just no way they wouldn't be a mouthy little asshole. Goo would make sure they respect the parents, but otherwise they are a danger to society. A troublemaker. Figures out all the loopholes to any rules and laws... A constant headache but you can't help but be impressed.

Gun Park

As a dad

Does a lot of research before their kid is born. This guy is pretty thorough with things he is interested in, so if he's taking an active part in the kid's life then he will be meticiulous. Initially. Then, like Goo, will let their kid make their own mistakes. Otherwise, very hands on, doesn't believe in outdated parental roles. After all, this is Gun's ultimate masterpiece.

The kid

Christ. This kid could be the most intimidating child to have ever lived. Not as intense as their dad, but they are playing 5D chess while everyone else is just learning their shapes and numbers. They're cocky and confident, with the skills to back it up.

Ryuhei Kuroda

As a dad

Extremely similar to Goo imo. Would also love to embarrass the kid. Not purposely mind, just he can't keep his hands off or kissing you and no kid needs to see their parents so grossly in love.

The kid

An absolute menace, just like their dad. Huge prankster, mostly harmless. Don't get them together with Goo's kid because jfc they would be absolute terrors together. Unlike their dad in his youth, they would respect the shit out of women. You've seen to that.

Eugene

As a dad

Probably a little cold and severe, putting a bit too much emphasis on grades and perfection. Despite that, would actually be pretty good. Someone that reads up a lot on how to raise a kid, bonding with them etc etc. to form a somewhat healthy relationship.

The kid

Private school little wunderkind. Will grow up with the absolute best of everything and spoilt too so you would need to keep them grounded. Expected to take over Workers. Business acument and ambition will be drilled into them from an early age.

Vasco

As a dad

What is there to say about Tabasco that we don't already know. Would dote on them hand and foot. An absolute pushover! Their kid pulls out the puppy eyes and it's game over. Would teach them to protect themselves but probably draw the line at anything more.

The kid

Really creative? Vasco would place less emphasis on grades and would help to nurture their interest in the arts. But actually super smart too thanks to Uncle Jace's influence. Tbh I think the kid would be pretty perfect and with the kindest heart and stands up to bullies just like dad!

Zack Lee

As a dad

So so similar to Vasco. Has all these ideas on what they should and shouldn't do as a parent. Kid pops out, and Zack's a goner. Literally would do anything and everything for their child. Go absolutely crazy with pride if the kid is interested in boxing.

The kid

Would have no game... Like dad. Sorry. Good job they would be good looking af to even it out. Not a huge emphasis on education and grades thanks to Zack's influence. More focused on athletics. A little shallow and arrogant, but a huge softy underneath.

Johan Seong

As a dad

Panic and anxiety from the day their kid was born and every day after. First because of worrying about their eyes, second because he's just not comfortable with having an actual dependent. Tries to teach them about the evils of the world. Eventually chills out overall and reverts back to being the gentle-hearted boy he used to be.

The kid

For practical reasons, taught braille from an early age just in case. But otherwise a mini-Johan but without the trauma. Very softly spoken and sweet. Just an absolute ray of sunshine. Always accompanied by their dog, their bff and partner when a fight arises.

491 notes · View notes

in-class-daydreams · 8 months

Text

Talking Terms (Sebastian Sallow x Reader)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader Synopsis: Things are awkward between you and Sebastian after everything that happened with his uncle. You haven't spoken since before the holidays and this is the first time you've seen each other since the incidents. Your life is progressing with or without him, but you'd be a fool to deny that parts of you - all the important ones - remain with him. Notes/TW: Rich people. Also you're a member of the Black Family in this one. No use of YN. Unedited tho, ya girl ain't got attention span like that.

While families and lineage tended to hold a lot of weight where you lived, and everyone who wasn’t part of the main circle wished they were, money and status weren’t nearly worth the trouble, in your opinion. Late nights at tiresome soirees among the other pure-blood families tittering about how pure their blood is or whatever it is they talk about. You play the game, of course, just until you finally graduate from Hogwarts. As soon as that happens, you’ll never step foot in 12 Grimmauld Place again.

On the train to Hogwarts, you reach out to slide open a compartment door when a pale hand reaches past you.

“Please, let me get that for you,” your companion says, gesturing for you to enter first. Over the last several holidays, your family has been eager to introduce you to some other eligible pure-bloods your age. They were unsurprisingly heinous people, guilty of just about every prejudice in the book - against muggle-borns, against poor people, against women, it was like they had a checklist.

What was surprising was your odd fondness for Pollux Carrow, a fellow Slytherin you’d seen once or twice in the common room but never spoken to, hailing from the noble Carrow family. It would be a stretch to say you liked him. Growing up in a Sacred Twenty-Eight family of pure-bloods would always be a cauldron of generational trauma, and just because Pollux wasn’t a bad person, it didn’t mean he was the most saintly person, either.

The two of you enter the compartment and before Pollux can insist, you heft your bags into the overhead bin yourself. You sit, stretch out, and crack open the first book you grabbed on your way out the door that morning. The well-loved leather cover is soft beneath your fingers.

Goblets, Goblins, and Gobstones: An Anthology of Magical Folklore

Your heart clenches. You’d only received this a few months ago. You remember a flash of freckles and a boyish smile, telling you how he’d found it at a used bookstore and just had to get it for you. The tip of his nose was red from the cold, but he could not have cared less when you hugged him tightly and thanked him for the gift.

You’d gotten him a book as well, naturally, but you never got to give it to him.

“Merlin’s beard, that thing’s been through the wringer,” Pollux says from his seat.

You hum just to acknowledge him.

“Read it many times, then?” he asked.

The incident with Solomon Sallow happened not too long after. Since then, you couldn’t bring yourself to even open the thing. Not when you and the person you wanted to discuss it with the most weren’t speaking. You’d even given Ominis some space so as to not put him in a tight spot between his friends.

Finally, you reply, “It was a gift.”

Pollux eyes your book like it was diseased. “Interesting gift.”

This time you don’t deign to reply, knowing Pollux was one of those people who needed to have an opinion on everything.

Movement in the walkway catches your eye and you gasp when a shock of fluffy brown hair breezes past the window. Ominis’s unmistakable visage follows closely behind, visibly grabbing for the boy in front of him and steering him into your compartment.

“Do you have room for two more?” Ominis asks. His posh accent and soft voice were always pleasing to hear. “All the other compartments are full.”

You know very well that they’re not, but you play along anyway.

“By all means.” You move your legs and belongings out of the way and pat the seat beside you. With the other hand, you shove your book under your thigh.

Maybe it’s seeing him again after time apart or the leather tome that smells like him sitting just beneath your robes, but the words are out of your mouth before you can think better of it.

“Hi, Sebastian,” you murmur.

The boy in question looks confused that you addressed him at all. He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut before shaking his head and giving you a nod.

“Hello.” His voice is a tad deeper than you remember it and he looks more tired. He inclines his head towards your companion. “Carrow.”

“Hello, Sallow,” Pollux replied. What is it with boys and calling each other by their last names?

Sebastian quickly plants himself beside Pollux and busies himself in a book you’ve seen him read a hundred times before. He was reading it when you first met him in the common room, in fact. He buries himself in his reading, but his lips are pressed into a hard line and he’s squinting at the words.

Rather than stir up trouble, you turn to Ominis.

“How was your holiday?”

He laughs. “Of course it was,” then he seemed to remember Pollux, “fine. Good to see family again.”

Being in close proximity to the Gaunt family could never be described as ‘good,’ even for the more obedient members of the family, which Ominis was not.

Thinking quickly on your feet, you feign coughing into your fist.

“Are you alright?” Pollux asks.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You cough again. “My throat’s just a little dry.”

He jumps to his feet. “I’ll get you some water!” And with that, he’s gone. If your calculations were correct, he’d see some more Slytherins on the way to the beverage cart and get held up for at least ten minutes.

“Well, Ominis? How was it really?” you prod.

He rolls his milky eyes and scoffs. “As good as predicted, that is, not at all. My family has migrated to our country estate for the season and when it wasn’t contentious between us, it was terribly boring.” He shrugs tiredly. “And you? Does the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black have anything to do with your new companion?”

You cringe at the full title. “The social season is months away, and yet they insist that I meet the other pure-blooded hellspawn.”

“Unsurprising that they’d favor a Carrow for you,” Ominis sighs. “I think I’ve spent at least half my holiday in the presence of the Greengrass’ youngest.”

“She’s pretty, at least,” you comment before Ominis raises an eyebrow at you.

“I wouldn’t know.”

You desperately stifle your laughter.

“Besides,” he adds, “she takes great fun in making the house elves compete for sport.”

Wrinkling your nose, you ask, “Compete in what?”

“A better question would be what don’t they compete in?”

The two of you stare at each other in disgust before dropping the subject entirely. You steal a glance at Sebastian, who hasn’t turned the page since he opened his book and you know for a fact that he is an amazingly fast reader.

Ominis gives you a look that sends a shock of dread through you. He always made that face when he was planning something.

“Well, Garreth should be around here somewhere.” Ominis stood, stretching. “I have a book of his and I should pass it off to him now before I end up carrying it around for the rest of the day. I’ll be back shortly.”

You open your mouth to protest but he all but ran out the door. Sighing, you resign yourself to watching the landscape blur past through the window. Though, you note that Sebastian still has yet to turn the page. Part of you wants to say something, anything to fill the silence. Yet, what would you say? ‘I know you killed your uncle not too long ago, but how are you? Had a good holiday in an empty house?’ Or even ‘Remember how I prevented you from getting sent to Azkaban? So we’re good, right?’

Stealing another glance at him with his head nearly buried in the pages, you think about how the hardest part of being in this awkward place with Sebastian is that you don’t feel like you can talk to him. Before, you could sneak into the restricted section of the library and raid goblin camps and sit in the astronomy tower seeing who can invent the silliest new constellation.

Sebastian always won at that. It’s easy for smart people to be funny.

The two of you hadn't exchanged a single owl all holiday. Then, with all these memories in mind, you had to wonder: Did Sebastian miss you as much as you missed him? Of course, you had your bonds with Poppy and Imelda and Natty, but for all intents and purposes, Sebastian was your best friend. Being out of sync with him was like hearing a beloved song in the wrong key.

Even while your family paraded you around, introducing the different sons and daughters of the noble purebloods to you, you only thought of Sebastian. You’d never be fond of any of those bigots anyhow, but each of their flaws were in relation to him. They’d be too short or too tall, another lacking enough freckles, and then one wouldn’t laugh at a joke you made that would’ve had Sebastian rolling on the floor with tears in his eyes. They were all wrong on so many accounts.

Pollux was the best of them, which wasn’t saying much, but he wasn’t nearly as hateful as the rest of them. At the time, while you were missing someone, he was an acceptable stand-in.

Being alone with Sebastian was quickly becoming too suffocating. You stand and rush to the compartment door and in your haste you almost don’t register the dull thud behind you.

When you turn, you see Sebastian pick up the leather tome you forgot you had. He turns it over in his hands, his expression unreadable.

“Oh!” You exclaim nervously, reaching for it. “Thank you, I’m so clumsy.”

“You kept it?” Sebastian said quietly.

You were somewhat offended at the implication. When he turned, you forced yourself to look into his eyes when you replied, “Of course, I did. It was a gift and I wanted to know why you liked it so much.” By the time the words left your mouth, you wondered if you’d said too much.

Sebastian doesn’t look away. His grip on your book loosened and an array of emotions flashed across his face. The circles under his eyes had lightened since you last saw him, but they were still there.

He wordlessly passes the book back to you and your skin tingles where your fingers brush.

“I wanted you to know.” Sebastian broke eye contact, then seemed to catch himself and reestablished it. “I feel like you deserve to know that–”

You jump when the door slides open right next to you. Pollux stands on the other side holding two cups of water. He begins to speak when rush out the door, calling out some excuse about needing the restroom over your shoulder. Never mind that the restroom was in the opposite direction.

Just the next car over, you run into Ominis, who aims the red tip of his wand towards you.

“Why are you so upset? What did Sebastian say to you?” He demands, then his eyes widen in shock. “Did he give that to you?”

You nod, and adjust your grip on the book. “Yes, a while ago. He said he couldn’t wait until the proper holidays. But I haven’t gotten around to reading it. Not that I don’t want to, it’s just that it’s–”

“You’re rambling,” Ominis interrupts. You smile sheepishly and he looks solemn. “He loves that book more than life itself. Did he tell you that?”

The book is leather, with loose bindings and yellowing pages. “No? It’s just some folklore, I do tend to like stories like these,” you reply.

Ominis shakes his head. “It’s full of his old bedtime stories. His mother used to read it to him before she died. It’s one of the last memories of her he has.”

You stare at the book in disbelief, looking back and forth from it to Ominis. “You’re serious? I can’t take something like this! We’re not even on speaking terms!”

Ominis pats your shoulder on his way past you. “Impulsive as he may be, Sebastian doesn’t take this sort of thing lightly. If he gave it to you, he wanted you to have it. Perhaps talk to him about it? Or about anything for that matter. Honestly, the two of you would have significantly less problems if you just talked to each other.”

As he leaves, you stare after him, the book in your hand suddenly much heavier than it was before. Smiling softly, you find an empty compartment - you knew Ominis was lying earlier - and sit down. The smell of the old book is comforting when you turn the first page, and it reminds you of someone who smells just like it. For the first time in weeks, you relax and begin to read.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy imagines #sebastian x mc #ominis gaunt

169 notes · View notes

modelbus · 6 months

Note

YOOOO MODDLEE

yeah I did it again.

(Help I have a problem of disappearing into thin air)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PART THREE OF CUT CHAOS SHEBSJNSUH

you said you would write 500 chapters.. but like obviously exaggerating..? (Kiddinggg)

tho a few more couldn’t hurt..

juuuust saying if you ever feel like it I will eventually see it and it will eventually make my week. <3333

BUT THATS NOT WHY WE ARE HERE! (I’m sorry my requests are always so long and dramatic bro I just brain like that)

Actual request:

ok so like I knowww cut chaos started from rumours but like rumours are an easy way to start plot lines k? (Also I use she pronouns out of habit but they is pog too)

the friends in question: Tommyinnit (duh), Wilbur (moosic boi), Ranboo (generation loss trauma guy), Possibly Slimecicle?? I know he’s not someone you do requests for normally buttt if you’re okay with it that would be POG, or if slime is a no, tubbo!

SO a few months ago Y/N started working on an SMP with some minimal custom mods, some fancy texture packs, maybe some data packs, and its like this BIGGG project, BUT its not public and its taking a lot of her time, so she can only really do a few streams and most of the time because her schedule is so full its hard to work out streams with friends so, she is alone. with the internet being the internet people started to think something was up, some annoyed viewers made a few rumours and people kept making things up and escalating things until people were saying she did all sorts of horrible things to “lose all her friends” but one of the most popular theories was that she was emotionally abusing them (??? Internet wildin ig) she ignored them while mostly finishing the stuff for the smp, but decided to address it in a very- y/n way. Getting four friends to come to her house and hide slightly off camera while she made a purposefully bad apology video only for them to jump out at the end and her to stand up and be like “YALL REALLY THOUGHT I WAS SOME MASTER MANIPULATOR?! I’M JUST A FUNKY LITTLE CHAOTIC MINECRAFT GOBLIN N’ I’VE BEEN WORKING ON AN SMP THIS WHOLE TIME!! ITS GONNA BE SUPER COOL AND THESE FOUR PLUS ALOOOOT MORE PEOPLE ARE GONNA BE THERE I’M POSTING THE CREATORS SOON AND ITS LAUNCHING IN A MONTH!, SO STOP ASSUMING I’M A BAD PERSON AND GET PUMPED BITCHES!” something along those lines, maybe at the end a little peek at what people are responding with. (Obviously no pressure, but like id be cool) (thanks for considering deity of the busses and models.)

HOW WE LIKING THE SILLIES?!?

P.S I’m not always an angst gremlin (just most of the time..) - ✨🌌🌙 Annon

I DO BE LIKING THE SILLIES (and thank you for elevating me to the level of deity, my ego has been inflated)

Pairing: Cc! Wilbur, Tommy, Ranboo, Charlie Slimecicle x Gn!Reader (platonic)

Roaring Rumors

Life was all about sacrifices.

Or, that’s what you keep telling yourself when you’re up at 1AM working on your server. Putting together an SMP is harder than it sounds; texture packs, data packs, comparability, world-building, even the (seemingly) simply act of contacting people to play on it. For the amount of time you spent on your computer, your hands might as well be part of your keyboard.

Sleep wasn’t the only thing you sacrificed. Streaming, even just fun ones with your friends, had quickly became rare. Although you loved to hop on a call while coding still, your online presence had severely receded.

You just keep telling yourself that sacrifices are necessary. That the payoff would be worth it.

And it really would be, but you just had to get there first. Which was proving harder than you had thought.

At the very least, you still had your friends. Wilbur sitting silently on call with you while you work, Tommy dragging you out of your room, Ranboo always willing to get excited over your progress. Every day you woke up with a text from your groupchat—typically Charlie—just filling you in on the latest internet trend by a meme.

Today, your news comes from Wilbur and Tommy.

“I think they’re canceling you.” Wilbur says casually while you’re in the midst of detailing the hunger bar for a texture pack.

“Ooh, you’re a wrong’un!” Tommy yells in the background of Wilbur’s side of the call.

The three of you had been idly chatting while each doing your own thing. Wilbur and Tommy were engaged in some Twitter competition, as far as you know.

“Canceling me for what?” You ask, deciding to ignore Tommy’s shouting.

“Existing, I think.” Wilbur answers.

“So the normal.”

“The normal.”

Although the conversation stops there, you can’t help yourself. Later, during one of the few hours you dedicate to getting sleep to stay alive, you pull open Twitter on your phone. Your last tweet was nearly two weeks ago, so it’s been a minute.

But you just want to make sure nothing horrible happened while you were busy. You’re a content creator, this is normal. Definitely. You definitely aren’t just justifying this so you can do it.

You swipe through tweets, heading to trending and searching your name. Tweets load, making your mouth run dry. Wilbur wasn’t joking.

All you can do is scroll, reading as the messages get wilder and wilder. From people saying they were missing you to theories on why nobody was streaming you. Each one seemed considerably more implausible, and before you know it you’re glaring at your screen like it’s to fault.

Some thought you had grown apart.

Some thought you had a falling out.

And, apparently, a lot thought you were emotionally abusing them. Or, depending on the tweet, manipulating them.

Quite honestly, you didn’t even know how they got the idea. The long threads of explanations did nothing but send you into a spiral, biting your bottom lip so hard that it bleeds.

You were so close to finishing the SMP. It needed just a few things, then you'd be able to start scheduling to get it up and running. You didn't have the time nor mental capacity to deal with whatever the fuck is going on right now.

Is it a good choice? Maybe not. But do you still ignore the accusations? Hell yes.

By the time you get even closer to finishing the preparations for your SMP, you've come up with the perfect plan to address the (quite stupid) rumors. It'll be a two-in-one; you address the rumors and announce the SMP at the same time.

"How long do I have to lay on this floor?" Tommy asks, stretched out behind your chair.

"Nobody asked you to lay on the floor." Wilbur points out, standing next to your computer. Charlie, on the other side, laughs.

"Yeah man, you wanted to be down there."

"Besides, I'm doing great down here!" Ranboo chimes in.

You roll your eyes, grinning. "I'm about to start stream, so it won't be for much longer. Just wait for my cue, yeah?"

Tommy grumbles, but shuts up. You take that as your chance to start the stream, switching it off your waiting screen and waving to the camera. Your chosen stream title has brought in a bit more than your usual casual steam view number, "Talking about some serious stuff," leading people to believe there will be drama. And if it's drama they want, it's drama you'll give.

"Hello, hello!" You smile, leaning back. "So I've decided to talk about some things. Namely, the Twitter shit. I am so sorry for everything, and I mean that. A lot. Sincerely. There's meaning in it."

Tommy snorts, and from the corner of your eye you catch Wilbur kick him to shut him up.

"What am I sorry about?" You ask rhetorically, acting like you read it off of chat. "Oh, you know. People have been saying all types of stuff. The things about me manipulating my friends?" There's a pause while you let that sink in. "So, I'm sorry."

It's a purposefully shitty apology, but you sigh and act like its heartfelt for a few moments, nodding towards chat. Their messages are mostly confused, especially because it isn't one emote-only.

"Sorry you guys are so gullible!" You shout, and Tommy practically tackles you.

Wilbur's the one to fix your chair, Ranboo and Charlie appearing next to you within moments.

"You guys really thought this one could manipulate me? The master?" Charlie asks the stream, pointing at you.

"Yeah!" Tommy shouts, way too energetic for someone who complained five minutes ago about being on the floor. "We're the master manipulators! Get fooled!"

"I, for one, haven't manipulated anyone-" Ranboo starts, but Tommy slaps a hand over his mouth and nods empathetically.

"Yeah, I don't know what you guys were thinking, but I've just been playing fucking Minecraft for the past few months nonstop." You laugh.

"Nonstop. It's a problem." Wilbur nods.

"It is not a problem!" Pause. "Anyways, I made an SMP! And that's where I've been! Not because I've been manipulating my friends or some shit, stop being dumbasses."

"It'll be super cool!" Ranboo adds in helpfully.

"These four-"

"That's us!" Charlie points around at himself, Wilbur, Tommy, and Ranboo.

"-will be on it, plus a lot more. It'll be posting those people soon! As in, check your Twitter obsessively guys! The SMP will be in about a month, too, so get fucking excited! I want to see some hype!"

"WOO!" Tommy screams, making everyone cringe at having their eardrums ruptured.

"So that's all I wanted to talk about I think. Anything to add, guys?" You glance around at the four surrounding you with a grin.

"One thing." Charlie nods, leaning in really close. "I have a secret. This SMP, it's actually-" He hits your end stream button mid-sentence. "And that's how you keep 'em interested."

Ycgmaenthusist NEW SMP NEW SMP NEW SMP NEW SMP

Mammalianeighingreflecenthusiest We are dumb as fuck aren’t we

Poabsenthusiest i will RIOT IN THE STREETS if any of yall be mean to MY STREAMER -> Cmwylenthusist FR I GOT TWO FISTS AND A CAUSE

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot #ranboo x reader #ranboo imagine #ranboo mcyt #ranboo #ranboolive #charlie slimecicle #charlie slimesicle x reader

76 notes · View notes

the-local-eldritch-microwave · 2 months

Text

Error and Ink headcanon

real tiny TW of triggering people on purpose so be warned(its only mentioned once)

so lets say hypothetically, if all the creators were to lose interest then the multiverse would die a slow and sad death until only the void is left. Now Error and Ink obviously are the only ones with direct contact to the creators so lets just say that any sort of truce or peace between sides tends to bore a lot of creators(enough to cause worry). They want action! drama! death! all of the above. So! every time the multiverse comes even a little bit close to a truce, lets say dream and nightmare get close to apologizing to each other and/or the council starts to learn their ways that would be the eventual end of the multiverse(In their eyes) so Ink and Error have this mutual agreement to continuously fuck shit up even if it cost the both of them their relationships and lives.

Error does this in an obvious way, by doing what he does best(destroy, and by proxy bringing creators back so they can create more to replace them and stay out of spite) but i think he would make truces with people like fresh and the council and such only to break them off on short notice or barley work with them at all and cause general mistrust. In think he would be betray Nightmare and foil his plans a lot because even if the bad side wins in the end that's still gonna turn constant and for many creators(unfortunately) that's just as boring as a world that's happy all the time. Error would definitely fool the council into thinking he's a good guy and even being content with it himself until the creators start to pester him and bring his intrusive thoughts back out.

In the other hand Ink would stay content for a while playing the good guy and encouraging creators to make more universes to keep it alive however in times of desperation he would turn to other measures such as leaning into his chaotic good to neutral side and even betraying dream for Nightmare starting as small favors and possibly even tuning into something bigger(im squeezing in some hypothetical Inkmare cause i can, but kinda one sided wont say for who tho). He'd even break his own rules of not interfering with a story just to get an "interesting" sans out of it to bring old creators back to a creation that they had once long forgotten(basically giving out more trauma like pokemon cards).

The both of them would see drama between two san's or people and both actively think of ways to make it worse or stretch it out for longer then it should have initially been as well as being everyone's #1 instigator and i think Ink especially(but also Error too) would "accidently" trigger people mid fight to escalate things and just ruin any chance of rekindling old friendships unless those friendships and relationships are "interesting"(Ink) or "worth it"(Error) in the long run.

The creators voices(Error) and creative drive of the creators(Ink) would most definitely sway them and if they're in the middle of messing something up but the creators suddenly seem to have a change of heart or find interest without any intervention they would stop what they are doing and leave them alone finding something else to do.

And when the day is done they would both meet up in outertale(an au the creators seem to love and therefore almost never gets touched besides from a visit or two) sit down side by side and both silently wonder what life would be like if the creators didn't have to be there and they could both let the Multiverse run its natural course.

(i imagine them to have some sort of QPR here but this is up to how you interpret it!)

#they are both jerks #but for the greater good!#utmv #ink sans #error sans #ink headcanon #error headcanon #ink and error #my funky stuff #headcanons #undertale #undertale au

39 notes · View notes

nightcolorz · 4 months

Text

I can’t believe that I haven’t seen anyone talk about how in the little weird ass “educational” performance Charlie puts on in episode 2 between Angel and Pentious the reason Angel gets upset and goes to his room is ofc, partly cus Charlie is disregarding him in favor of pentious and inadvertently communicating to him that she doesn’t think he’s capable of ever getting better, but also bcus she is actively shaming and insulting him?? 😭😭 like she has angel preform as who she literally refers to as “the crackhead” who tries to corrupt a child’s innocence, then said child declares that drugs are bad and “having sex before marriage” is sinful—-

like I’ve always considered Charlie’s main flaw that she wants to help traumatized people heal and become better but she is too privileged and generally ignorant to meaningfully understand the life experiences and struggles of the ppl she is trying to help enough to make effective change 😭 She has a savior complex but she’s just so well meaning u can’t help but root for her. Its like if the only person in the entire world who had the motive drive and goal to help improve life conditions for the disempowered was literal royalty with no social political or mental health experience that thinks the key to curing trauma is kindergarten coloring exercises and trust falls 😭. She is so naive but u want to root for her cuz who else is going to do anything, right?

like Charlie is so ignorant 💔 could u imagine working at what u claim to be a rehab of sorts, and ur idea of an exercise meant to help ppl improve is having ur gay, crossdressing, (demographic historically demonized as child groomers) drug addicted sex worker patient play pretend as ur childish portrayal of what u think a drug addict is, a scary man in a long coat who tries to take away a child’s virtue with Catholic ass temptations of drugs and sex 😭😭 like Charlie love u girl but OH MY GOD 😭 no wonder angel ran off.

Not only was it being affirmed to angel that the only people in hell he has ever met who believe and advocate for redemption and self betterment when it seems like there is no hope consider him to be a too far gone-lost cause who is not worth focusing any sort of minimal attention or effort on saving, BUT ALSO he is being told by Charlie (tho unintentionally) that she sees him as a demonic pervert who is in hell for being an evil crack head who had impure homo sex that goes against gods ordained laws of marriage 😭👍 god I love this show, such a hot mess

#I could write a whole essay on Charlie’s dynamic with angel and the themes and thesis on the show as a whole #Hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel meta #hazbin spoilers #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #charlie morningstar #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel

50 notes · View notes

moldybonessmell · 2 months

Text

The Umbrella Academy season 3 review post

I finally finished season 3 of tua even tho I've watched first two seasons first day they came out and oh boy do I have things to talk about-

To begin with, the things I like about new season:

- The way we finally dug into Allison's trauma and how she starts going psychotic is actually a good plot line especially the accent on how she just like any other Umbrella Academy people indulges in self-distructive behavior, she's really just like them

- Diego getting a kid as someone with the biggest daddy issues out there is a realistic plotline because having a kid (even if Stanley's not actually his) heals him in this regard tho he and Lila would get a kid anyway eventually but they really should've been more sad about Stanley thanosing out of the existence you know

- Five being the founder of The Temps Commission makes so much sense as he's the one with the power to travel time of course he's more powerful than it seemed

- Good music scenes. Music is what season 1 was incredible for and what I love about the show. In season 2 there weren't many scenes that caught my attention but in s3 it's definetely better. We got Klaus's death montage with "Crystallised" by The xx and celebration scene with "Another one bites the dust" by Queen + Luther on moon and "Friday I'm in Love" by The Cure these were really nice.

- The Oblivion Hotel is such a cool location and concept (a place for everyone) I like the change of place of action a lot, but the way it's a portal is kinda overused imo

- Lila and Five are still the best characters and carried the season

- Fei is such a cool chara with a distict character design (which most of Sparrow Academy lack tbh)

Now things I don't like:

- Ben being just a placeholder character is such a bummer because instead of getting angst and drama we got a mostly one-dimentional anti-hero who has a completely different personality from Ben. We got a tiny bit of his character when he admitted he just wants to be involved with everyone but it's really minimal.

I can't believe Klaus says "He's an asshole and he's dead to me" like WHAT DO YOU MEAN fuck no Klaus would not say that shit and he would not just give up on him. Yeah Luther says stuff like "I'm glad to see you even if you're different" or whatever but it's Klaus who've spent the most time with Ben.

The way literally any other actor could have played Sparrow Ben and nothing would change is lame af I hope in next season we will see more changes

- Same goes to my dear Grace who's just a placeholder for black hole worshipper like what do you mean we just got one phrase from Diego and that's it??? This whole bit with fake god and stuff really threw me off it didn't go anywhere

- The Sparrow Academy being one-dimentional characters in general like I get producers probably didn't have enough episodes to actually develop characters but holy shit are they boring.

Even if you want to make them just antagonists we had such cool villains in two previous seasons they were original and interesting (aka The powerless podcast-fan male manipulator Peabody and The Cunty Handler)

Also the way the fisrt Sparrows who died were the most annoying and cliche assholes makes them just filler charas

- How show tried to make us feel compassion to Reginald Hargreeves holy shit do I hate this guy- After Klaus realised his father was basically killing him over and over in his childhood instead of Klaus getting mad or upset and having a breakdown we got nothing.

He even came back to new timeline Reginald who's "nicer" for this asshole just to hurt him AGAIN

- Klaus mostly being a comic relief in this season is so fucked I love this character and in previous seasons we had a great look at his life and experiences but now he's just kinda there being high and that's it

"mm I guess he died a few times it's probably enough" - plot writers

no character development whatsoever is just upsetting.

And the amount of unnecessary traumatising aka Reginald training him was really not it, even if it's supposed to be a joke.

- Reginald being a two-faced ass like holy shit is this terrifying. Pogo was the one who gave Sparrows pills and now Klaus helped him to stop taking them and this asshole is taking advantage of naive and vulnerable Klaus.

It is in fact a good plot twist but bro I really did prefer Reginald being a cartoonish villian instead of actual pure evil like how does he have shitty motivation but still does just so much shit.

- The Umbrella Academy family having no improvement in their relationship. They still don't care Klaus relapsed, they still don't care about Viktor. All they care about is their own misery which is really in character but with three seasons out of the way and only one more left I would expect at least something you know.

- Viktor is still left out. Like bro the only compassion he had is only when he transitioned but this is it?? Bro's still waiting till someone comes and cares about him but not only this doesn't happen, he even gets rediculed by Sparrow Ben for that and called emo are you actually kidding me what's with all the hurt with no comfort???

It feels a lot like when you're mentally ill and your family kinda "walks on eggshells" to not trigger you but it's in quotes because they don't actually care. They act nice just because they think you're psycho and you would make less problems if they pretend. And this is very sad, Viktor is such a tragic character.

Okay that's it for now. If you have any thoughts please share in comments!

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua s3 #tua s3 spoilers #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #allison hargreeves #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #the sparrow academy #viktor hargreeves #reginald hargreeves

27 notes · View notes

inklore · 2 years

Text

break the chains

prev chapter | series masterlist

premise: it’s been a month of spending your summer days with eddie. a month that is closer to coming to an end. the feelings that have grown between the two of you within those days meaning a lot more to you than you want them to.

pairing: eddie munson x richgirl!reader

word count: 6.6k

warnings: eighteen+ content, quick mentions of oral sex, come eating, weed mention, time jump, anxiety and panic attacks, blackmail, angst angst angst, fluff in the beginning to even it out tho, hickeys, mention of doing spicy things in public (fingering), trauma and emotional abuse at the hands of shit parents, diet culture.

etc: ok so like this chapter actually fucking killed me to write, like it was all over the place and just angsty and wow can these two get a happy ending yet my godddd. but i kept thinking about this little fluff piece i wrote for them and how it happened days before the events of this chapter and it made all of this hurt even more.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

The Dio song from one of the many mixtapes that Eddie has generously gifted you over the last month—“to enlighten your musical taste buds” he had told you as he handed you two of them, then a third the week after that—plays loud enough that you’re surprised the neighbors have yet to complain.

Your parents had ditched you; was it still considered ditching when you refused to go when your father would only ask out of pity from your mother not asking you? Escaping to their summer cabin with some friends for the weekend, leaving you home alone and blissed about it.

The three of you living like disgruntled roommates as you tried to never be home when they were. Them never asking you where you were, who you were with, what time you came home or left the house.

You’re sure if you dig deep enough it makes you sad to know no one truly cares about your well being. That they probably would only notice you’ve disappeared once they realized you weren’t cashing your monthly check.

But avoidance of feelings is bliss and while your parents weren’t taking up space in your childhood home you were going to make the most of it.

Which is why you’re sat at your bedroom window waiting to see that old rusted van come down the road, sticking out like a sore thumb, completely out of place with the large statured homes around it—and the barley scraping the owners salary, cars sitting in the driveway.

When you had called Eddie earlier, once your parents took that first step out of the door and you were finally rid of them. You had picked up the phone and with little to no convincing he was agreeing to come over.

“What do I get out of it?”

“To see the inside of my castle.” You teased.

“Is that an innuendo?”

You scoffed, “you wish, Munson.”

“Oh yes, many a’wasted stars have been used for wishes on you, my fare lady.”

You roll your eyes, that cheesy smile on your lips when you say, “are you coming over or not?” You wait a few seconds, a minute, what feels like forever as your heart beats in your chest, “I miss you, or whatever, just come over!”

He’s chuckling into the receiver, you can hear his loud footsteps throughout his trailer. “I’ll be there, princess.”

After you've hung up you feel a tinge of embarrassment, don’t know why you said that. Went and told him you missed him like you haven’t spent the last month spending nothing but time with him. Getting high. Making out. Sucking him off. Him returning the favor.

The two of you had to take a week respite because your lips had felt so chapped from how often you found yourself in a lip-lock with him, once you were done puffing and passing on the never ending supply of weed he had.

And within that week you may have warded off kissing, but that didn’t mean Eddie stopped touching you. Or returning the favor that felt more like something else than a favor.

When the two of you had walked in high as a kite to see a late showing of Pretty in Pink, a movie neither of you wanted to see but it had been the only thing showing, and had told Eddie it was his turn to see how the other half lived.

“The other half goes to see Pretty in Pink?”

“Yes! All of my friends love Molly Ringwald.”

“Therefore every person with a trust fund wastes their daddies hard earned money for tickets to this snooze fest?”

“Munson,” you had fake whined. “You’re killing my high right now, all I want to do is go watch a movie and eat some really bad-for-me popcorn, okay?” You held your hand out as the two of you stood in front of the theatre in the town over. A theatre that looked too fancy for Hawkins residences, let alone the inebriated like of you—not to mention it was the only theatre open right now and that you were sure of wouldn’t be housing any of your so called friends, or people who would think twice to see you and Eddie walking hand in hand into the theatre as you dragged his grumbling form along.

And what you had expected to happen while the two of you sat in your seats as the movie played—sharing the popcorn, banter, more complaining from Eddie that would be better than the movie because you’d get to hear his laugh and nothing beat that nowadays—did not happen.

Instead his lips were close to the shell of your ear, his hot breath making goosebumps prick your skin as he whispered in your ear. His fingers bunch up the bottom of your skirt as they move up your thigh, pulling your legs apart so he can push his fingers between them and inside of you.

Your no kissing rule because your lips hurt being dead in the water as your teeth bit into your bottom lip to stop yourself from moaning—trying not to let the other patrons know that the boy beside you was making you come on his fingers.

Eddie Munson was full of surprises.

And so were you the day you had found yourself at the local bookstore, Lord of The Rings in hand, and looking completely out of place. And maybe you had always meant to read it because you’d heard in passing that it was good, you wouldn’t consider yourself a person too interested in reading. Your mother had always said being too smart wasn’t something a man wanted, but being too stupid would land you a shitty one.

You had been made to fall somewhere in the middle. Not hating or loving having a book in your hand.

But hearing Eddie talk about it one night as the two of you laid high and spent on his couch, your heads touching as he lay at one end and you the other. His fingers dancing in the air as he spoke about the book, the world building, the characters. How he made them come to life and you could barely understand a word he was saying—how it was filled with passion, something that went into the same sentence as Eddie Munson perfectly, as peanut butter did jelly; it just made sense.

It had made you realize you’ve never heard anyone talk about the things they liked, loved, like he did.

Your parents barely touched each other let alone spoke of passion about their love. Nor did your ex with anything he spoke about, or your so called friends; unless it was in malice by putting someone else down.

Just as you were learning to roll the perfect joint, and the world of Tolkien; the more time you spent with Eddie the more you realized you’ve never smiled this much in your entire life. Or enjoyed your days in this shit town more than you have in the last month, and you loved it.

There had been fear with that realization. There still was fear. Fear of how long it was going to last. Fear of having to go back to your real life, the reality of it, in less than a month's time. How you would have to say goodbye to Eddie eventually.

Because this was just summer fun. A fling. A…whatever to pass the time while you were at home. It held no substance. Was the behavior of a silly girl with a crush your mother would say if she knew.

But you didn’t have a crush on Eddie and going back to your life before this, before him, wouldn’t be as bad as your chest made you feel each time you thought about it.

It’s not like the two of you were serious. You were friends who got high together and made each other come. That’s all. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Or so that was your internal mantra every night Eddie brought you home, every night you had to resist the urge to ask him to stay at his place, to burrow your way into his arms forever so you wouldn’t have to leave his side and go back to your castle where you were unwanted.

Because while the two of you may have only shared kisses, joints, and bodily fluids—at least in those moments spent together, laughing, teasing, talking about life, you had felt like you mattered. That you weren’t just being used for someone else’s benefit. A robot in the machine of the sad pathetic life of a rich girl who had everything but hated it all. You weren’t a fucking cliché when you were with Eddie.

You were you.

And the summer wasn’t over yet, so when reality came crashing down then you’d worry about it. You’d pack your bags and go back to your life and be fine.

As the mantra goes.

As luck would surprise you, it doesn’t take much effort to sneak Eddie in through your back door; giving him specific instructions to park in the signature location and sneak his way through your yard—without looking like a total creep to any neighbors that could possibly be nosy-ily peeping out of their windows.

When you hear the soft knocks at the door your heart does an annoying leap as you race to swing it open. Trying to hide your amusement as you see him grip his knees as he doubles over trying to catch his breath.

“Your yard is bigger than my trailer, shit.” He fans himself with his ringed fingers dramatically.

“Don’t participate much in gym do you?”

“This body is made for love not torture,” he waves a hand along the front of him.

And yeah, maybe your body feels things from how tousled his hair looks from running, or the way his chest is heaving, the collar of his shirt sitting low enough to give you the perfect view of his necklace —of the tantalizing column of his neck you love to run your teeth along.

And maybe it’s also the way the porch light shines down on the leather of his jacket and dark jeans—always filled with holes—but you’re just now realizing how much you missed him in more ways than one, a way that has a dull throbbing starting between your legs.

You wordlessly grab his wrist, pulling him through the threshold and right to your chest. Your hands finding the warmth of his chest through his jacket as you look up at him with a sly smirk, “maybe you should show me this love you speak of.”

The heel of his sneaker finds the edge of the door swiftly kicking it shut as he leans his face down into your space. “Anything for you, princess.”

While your feelings for certain things—Eddie—may have been morphining and changing into something unexplainable to you; the act of the two of you only keeping your physical relationship strictly oral had not.

If this were any other guy, that you knew, he would have already moved on. Every guy loved blowjobs, loved to cop a good feel of what you were working with. But holding out for sex? When there had been plenty of times for it to happen?

Maybe you had just been seeing the wrong guys. Had let the wrong ones take up space in your life and made you feel inclined to please, to give, but never to take or receive. To do what was expected of you.

And maybe you shouldn’t classify every guy into that bubble of misogyny and insensitivity. Because Eddie was the opposite—so much so that it proves your track record of guys were not the right ones.

It’s not like you were holding out to see his resolve. To see if one night he’d actually act or initiate it. If he did you know you’d gladly do it. Gladly let him, someone worth it, inside of you.

Instead of the usual parasites.

But maybe that’s why you haven’t done it.

Why you’ve stopped yourself from pushing it to the next level. Because Eddie was good. Too good. For you, for the confusing feelings you got the more you spent time with him, for the fact that you were leaving at the end of summer and all of this would probably fade into the background noise of your life and you two would forget about each other and move on.

Deep deep down mixed in between those fuzzy feelings you get every time his fingers brush against yours when you’re walking beside each other, or passing a joint—your heart stopping when he kisses the side of your throat, when he’s between your legs, when he’s actually listening to you talk about things he doesn’t quite get and vice versa—if you fucked Eddie Munson you don’t think you’d be able to leave.

And that scared the shit out of you.

Because it was both incredibly ridiculous and stupid all on the same hand as it was so bitterly-sweet that it fucking hurt your chest to even think about.

So you swallowed it down like every other feeling. You let it pass. Let it drift to that lump in the pit of your stomach where you stored the things you’d never be able to have, obtain, because of who you were.

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps, his chest heaving. As he shoots rope after rope of cum across your chest, the heat from it giving the tops of your breasts a tantilizing burn—your eyes casted up at him as you watch his mouth hang open, adore the bruise you had sucked right below his jaw, love the way his eyes roll back and hips stutter as his fucks his fist, getting out every last drop from the head of his cock.

There’s drool coating your chin, drying and becoming cold in contrast to the rest of the air in the room; the smell of sex, come, and desire filling your childhood bedroom full of a different type of heat than the one outside.

Your throat feels raw and swollen from letting him fuck it, from how deep he had gotten. It brings a sweet smile to your lips remembering how he had asked the first time you told him he could, that he didn’t have to treat your mouth as if it were something fragile, that you would not break because of him–for him was another story.

“Are you sure? This is alright? Shit, that–yeah–fuck okay that feels good.” His cheeks had been a pretty pink, a nervous flush that soon turned into something needy and depraved.

You’d always think Eddie was pretty like this. Pretty in general.

Even if the word was miles off from how he normally looked, his brooding scary stature that most would swear off.

But that was the beauty of you being with him like this; you saw him, in ways no one else had and that meant too much to you.

The pull of the corner of his mouth as he looks down at you, his breath coming back to him, his eyes lazily filled with satisfaction and admiration, has your stomach plummeting into regions of your own need—and other places that are being ignored. How his bottom lip pulls into his mouth as he lets two of his fingers run along your chest, skating across a nipple making your breath hitch as the pad of it gathers the remnants of his come and brings it to your open mouth.

Your lips wrapping around them, tongue swirling around the tips to gather his taste and swallow it down as you suck them clean. Your eyes never leaving his as you do so.

It's crazy how well the two of you have grown to know the other body. What turns you on, what gets you there faster, the words you didn’t know you needed to hear in order to make your orgasm more intense.

There had been brief conversations over joints and a shared six pack. Eddie enclosing to you what he thought about late at night when he fucked his fist, and where your thoughts would lead you when you were all alone in your room with your hand between your thighs. The both of you sharing wants, needs, and things you’ve always wanted to try. The conversation being a pivotal one to you and your insides, the comfortability to talk about such things was something that you'd look at as far fetched if this were two months ago. But now it felt like the simplest thing in the world, easy, special to your used-to-being-closed-off feelings.

What was Eddie Munson doing to you?!

After you’ve cleaned yourself up, Eddie being as gentlemanly as ever as he helps you to your feet, hand in his as he pulls you to your ensuite to set you on the counter and run a wet cloth over your messy chest. A look of precision as he does so. Like a doctor holding a scalpel.

“And there, all perfect once again.” He grins, sets the cloth on the counter as he rights your top. Hands lingering to rest at your hips as he stands between your open legs.

“I think it was perfect the way it was.”

“Ooh,” Eddie leans in to you, mouth centimeters from yours. “Of course you did. Sometimes I forget how much of a depraved sex demon you are.” He snickers as he presses a quick peck to your lips.

Dodging the slap you give to his arm as he moves towards the door to run out of the bathroom as you chase him, hollers and giggles filling your room as he throws a pillow at your head.

“Eddie! Not the pillows my mother will–” another hits you in the face before you can finish your sentence. A shrug of innocence on his face when you scowl at him, a low growl in the back of your throat as you ignore your own words and pick up the small pillows your mother had knitted herself—that were gaudy and ugly but insisted you decorate your room with, as if they were classy and not actually tacky.

The two of you spend the next ten minutes shouting and tossing pillows, and whatever else you can get your hands on, until Eddie wraps his arms around your waist and tackles you to your bed. Your back hitting the plush duvet heavy and hard with his weight over you.

“I didn’t call you over here to wreck my house!”

“You should have been more clear on the phone then,” his cheeky smile has you about to give a playful pat to his cheek but then he’s grabbing your wrists and pulling them over your head.

“You’re cleaning this up!” You grunt as you try to lift yourself from his hold to no avail.

“I think it gave the room some life, it was too..” he makes a face as he looks around your bedroom, a grumble echoing through his chest. “Pink.”

You can’t help but laugh, “pink? That’s the best insult you have, not that it looks like it was decorated by a sixty year old grandmother? Pink?!”

“I was trying to be nice.” He makes a face, tries to hold it, but his laughter seeps through.

“Eddie the chivalrous.”

That soft look of admiration is in his eyes again as he presses down, his chest flush against yours as he moves closer to your mouth with his. “Only for you.”

“I think the press would love to know about this.”

“‘Hawkins Freak actually a decent person, who would have thought’. What a headline.”

Your chest tightens, a small frown washing away your happy expression. But you don’t let it stay, let it stick. Don’t let Eddie see as you use all your strength to pull out one of your wrists from his hold to bring it to the back of his head, fingers splaying in his hair. “I think it’s a perfect headline.”

“If thy majesty approves then who am I to argue?” His smile morphs against your mouth as the two of you kiss. “Now, should we get back to the real reason I’m here?” His brows waggle dramatically as he rolls off of you and onto his side, fingers dipping into his front pocket to pull out a joint.

There’s an array of condiments and chip bags littering your island as you lean over it, chin in your palm as you watch Eddie make his version of nachos. Your throat dry and burning from the joint and the laughter that keeps slipping out from him, your stomach caving in as you try not to grab a handful of shredded cheese and toss it into your mouth.

“Trust me, one bite of these and your fancy smancy country club will be put to shame.” He declares with conviction, points a finger in your direction as he puts the concoction into the microwave and lets the ‘magic happen’ as he says.

“I don’t think they serve nachos there, this is already an unfair fight.”

“I never thought a sentence could hurt me until now.”

You roll your eyes, “they should change your name from freak to dramatic.”

He shakes his head, “doesn’t have the same twang to it.”

“Twang?!” You laugh, covering your mouth with your palm to stop the echoing of your giggles throughout the large kitchen.

Eddie bites back a grin as he watches you lose it, leaning himself on the opposite counter, arms coming to cross over his chest. “What kind of food do they serve to the Royalty anyway?”

Once you’ve given yourself a stomach cramp from laughing too hard and have caught your breath you’re shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t know, I’m only mandated a salad.”

“Mandated?”

You nod, “yeah.” A chuckle slips in between a puff of air, “my mom thinks it's proper for a lady to keep a healthy diet. Therefore what she eats I eat.”

“Always?”

“If I’m accompanying them, yes.”

“I’m guessing no is not in her vocabulary?”

“You’d guess correctly.” You can feel the ill feeling from the conversation bubbling up in the pit of your stomach, that sting of perpetual dread you get when you think or talk about your parents with anyone. As if your body is waiting for the sickening pity that’s going to come from them, you don't need anyone pitying you. Or the ‘you have everything, your parents can’t be that bad’ that was worse than the pity. Like a reprimand of the damage your parents have done to whatever part of your brain that holds your feelings—and traits that make you turn into a decent human being. Both parts have dents and nicks no thanks to them.

But Eddie’s not looking at you with either of those things on the horizon of being spoken. Something that doesn’t surprise you, but does make you chew happily on the skin of your bottom lip.

“And when you’re away?”

“She’d have an aneurysm with all the takeout boxes in my dorm room.” You joke but the thought actually brings you a dark kind of joy, “I should just order a steak the next time I’m forced to play happy family with them.”

“The biggest.”

“Juiciest.”

“You have to get fries!”

“Fries? Forget an aneurysm, it’d be cardiac arrest!”

Eddie’s chuckle, the rise of his still blush tinted cheeks, the way even after having wrestled with you and taken a few pillows to the face his hair still looks perfect—you know, from the smell, but also having seen his bathroom, that he spends way too much money on hairspray—makes those annoying flutters bother your insides again.

When the microwave goes off you can feel your mouth watering from the smell wafting from the nuked chips he pulls out. The cheese melted to them looking burnt and fried, like it’s going to take some effort to separate them. Eddie grabbing a few condiments to scatter across the chips; sour cream, hot sauce.

After he’s done he holds it out in front of him with a smirk, “ready to taste heaven?” You make a face, trying to suppress a smirk of your own at the innuendo that’s dying to come out of you, that has him shaking his head. “Don’t tell me.” He says as he walks past you and heads towards the stairs.

“What?!” You’re laughing as you follow close behind.

As hard and nuked as the nachos looked, as much as you figured—expected—them to taste like something they’d serve you in middle school and call it lunch; they tasted amazing.

And maybe it was how high you were and how you were still rolling off of the sex endorphins, or maybe it was because Eddie had made them and everything he did just felt, tasted, was better. But it was almost obscene how you were hoovering the chips down, sour cream coating your fingers.

Eddie’s fingers looking the same, “told you, can’t get enough, huh?”

“I’m just high.”

“Mhmm and I passed biology.”

You snort, a chip flying across the plate from your fingers to land—sauce free—against his chin and then onto your duvet. “Yes, they’re amazing, we can add Eddie the chef to your resume.”

He makes a show of doing a fake bow as he pops the chip you threw into his mouth.

Your thrown chip leading into the two of you trying to see who can catch one in their mouth on purpose this time. The stains that would surely be present in the wash was sure to give your mother heart palpitations—good.

You couldn’t find an ounce of caring about it, about her, about anything other than this moment. The way Eddie’s missed his fourth chip and it’s landed in his hair, sour cream coating one of his curls. A look of dramatics one his face.

“Unbelievable.”

“It’s just a little sour cream, Munson. You’ll wash!” You tease, trying to hide your laugh by putting a chip in your mouth.

“It’s just three inches away. Aim better!” He mocks back at you as he cleans the white from his brown lock.

“Oh it’s my fault that you can’t catch?”

“I see why cheerleading was your top pick, that’s all I’m saying.” He holds his hands up in defense, the playful grin on his face making you scowl at him.

You don’t think, only react, as you scoop up a dollop of sour cream and toss it at him, it landing on the front of his shirt.

The look of astonishment on his face lasts for half a second before his finger is scooping it back up, jumping across the plate of nachos that crunches under his weight, to tackle your back down onto your mattress and swipe his finger—and the sour cream—against your forehead and hairline.

“Eddie!”

“You started it!”

“My bed!”

“My shirt!”

You let out a frustrated puff of air, look over at the mess on your bed, at the front of his shirt, up at the coolness of the white you can’t see but can feel drying against your skin.

And then up at Eddie the both of you holding stoic faces until you can’t hold back the laughter any longer. Your chests vibrating against each other as you laugh in the crook of each other’s necks. And it’s like it all clicks; something changing in the air, inside of you.

It wouldn’t matter if you fucked Eddie or never fucked him, if things just stayed like this and you never took those next steps, went to that next level: it was going to be hell leaving this behind either way.

This comfortability, these nights spent together, all that’s been shared, that’s been discovered, these feelings..this crush.

It was going to tear you in two no matter the circumstance. No matter the level. You could convince yourself otherwise all you wanted, but your heart knew.

So why should you wait? Why should you continue to hold back?

It was obvious you both wanted each other, that it wouldn’t take much to get to that level. It’s been dangling right there in front of the both of you since the first night you spent together.

Maybe it was time you faced this reality and stopped running from it.

And when Eddie pulls his face from your neck, smile faltering when he sees the serious look on your face, eyes still soft as ever; your choice is made.

Fuck it.

Your palm comes up to his cheek, thumb running across his bottom lip. There’s a need and want thrumming through your body that you hope he can see in your eyes. Hope he can read it through your touch, through your unspoken words—the heavy beating of your heart speaking the syllables you can’t.

You’re positive he knows because he doesn’t say anything just presses his lips to yours. Connecting your mouths in an agreement that you wish you would have settled on weeks earlier.

Eddie’s shirt is the first to go, him balling up the material to clean the gunk from your forehead and hair. A laugh shared between the two of you before your lips reconnect, before your shirt is peeled from your body. His body slotting perfectly between your legs, his hardness pressed to your thigh through his jeans. Your hips gyrating in attempts to ease the ache between your thighs, to get whatever friction you can against him—to feel him.

His lips attaching themselves to the side of your neck, sucking your sensitive flesh into his mouth. Teeth scraping against it causing gasps to fall from your parted lips. Body pushing up into his. Hands in his hair.

You were really going to do this.

Finally going to do this.

You're about to moan his name, about to ask him if he wants this as bad as you, but then the ring of the doorbell from downstairs has the two of you freezing.

Your breath caught in your throat, heart stopped.

Your parents' friends knew better than to call before dropping by. Your mother hating unexpected guests—needing time to put on her fake game face.

And your friends were barely in existence.

“Expecting someone?”

You shake your head, “only you.”

A half smile pulls at Eddie’s lips before he pulls off of you and the two of you right yourselves. His hand comes out to grab your wrist and pull you to him before you reach the door. A deep kiss pressed to your lips from his as he speaks against them, “hurry back.”

It’s a tenderness, on the cusp of being romantic that has you forgetting how to breathe for a second. Almost as if you don’t recognize the boy in front of you.

Until he opens his mouth again, “I really don’t want to clean up this mess myself. Especially when it was your fault.” He grumbles as he motions towards your messy bed.

The moment gone. Lost.

Somehow making it even more special.

“Don’t boss a princess around.” You tease as you slip through your bedroom door, closing it behind you and skipping down the steps. Hoping that maybe it’s just some neighbor kids messing around and you can get back to Eddie, and what you were about to do, quicker.

Conversing with a neighbor or someone you knew was not something you were in the mood to do right now.

But you put on your signature fake smile just in case as you open the door. The mask faltering, your face dropping, heart hanging heavy in your chest when you come face to face with your ex.

While you’re freaking out on the inside the cocky smirk he has on his face is picture perfect.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He chuckles under his breath as he doesn’t wait for you to invite him in. Pushing his way past you and into the foyer.

The feelings inside of you quickly mold into aggravation.

“What do you want?” You slam the door, a little too hard. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t come see my girlfriend?”

The laugh you let out is obnoxious and pretentious and lathered in humor and ‘get real’ with a touch of ‘in your dreams’.

“I’m not your girlfriend.” You cross your arms. “I thought the fact that we haven’t spoke, let alone seen each other in two months, and me telling you to fuck off the last time I saw you was enough of a confirmation of the fact.”

“Couples fight.” He shrugs, that smirk still in place. Still making you want to drive your fist into his face.

“We are not a couple!”

“Don’t be childish.”

It sounds like your mother. It’s her voice that you hear when he says it. It’s the same red rage you see when she says.

You open your mouth to tell him to fuck off, to get out of your house, that it’ll be a cold day in hell before you ever torture yourself with being with him let alone being around him.

But then he’s saying, “Carol said she saw you with that freak Eddie Munson.”

“Don’t call him that.” Your mouth, heart, speaks before you comprehend the words, the meaning of them, the threat that’s bound to follow them. Your chest sinking until you feel like you might get sick. Your body now adding nerves into the mix of your aggravation.

And all you can think to do, the only thing that your mind can compute right now is to deny deny deny. Lie. Do what you’ve been trained to do your whole life.

Ignoring the pang of pain you feel in your gut at your words, “get real.” You scoff, roll your eyes. “Just because I don’t want to be around her bitching doesn’t mean I’m hanging out with the steerage.”

He nods, pressing his lips together in a tight expression that lets you know he’s not buying it.

Can’t bullshit a bullshitter.

“I don’t care what you’ve been up to, who you’ve been hanging with.” He strides to you, putting him too close in your space that it just makes you even more nauseous at the smell of his expensive cologne. His thumb coming up to press into the side of your neck—a hiss leaving your lips, a feeling of childish humiliation washing over you as you realize Eddie must have left a mark from earlier. Your hand comes up to cover it. “Or who you’ve been fucking.” His hands slip into the front pocket of his dress pants, “you’ve had your fun, saw what it’s like to run with the lower class. But now it’s time to come back to reality.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek before he’s moving past you and over to the front door. Opening it and stepping between the threshold. Looking back at you to add, “we’re going to get back together or I’m going to break the news to your parents, let them know their daughter opens her legs for anyone these days.” He gives you a smile before he’s shutting the door behind him and leaving you alone—with your heartbeat pounding in your ears, the aggravation gone, the nerves making it harder to breathe, the threat playing in a loop in your head to the point where it’s only his voice you can hear.

And only your parents faces, the horrific look you know they’ll give you. The screaming in your face you know your mother will do. How she’ll call you ungrateful and tell you how disgusting you are.

Your father will look at you as if you’ve murdered someone. As if you’ve put shame on his name, like they’ll never be able to show their faces in town again. Like you just ruined their lives. Like you’re pathetic, and for what? For falling for the town freak? For spending time with him? For finding someone who actually makes you feel good?

No that’s not allowed and you’re stupid for thinking it could ever be.

“What were you thinking? You stupid girl!” Your mother will yell.

And maybe that’s exactly what you were. A stupid girl.

What were you really thinking spending all this time with Eddie?

Lying to yourself thinking that this would wrap up in a happy little bow. No one finding out.

You were stupid to think so.

When you finally drag yourself up the stairs to your room Eddie is sitting at the edge of your bed, teeth biting at the beds of his nails, knee bouncing.

You notice that he’s cleaned your blanket off. That the music that had been playing isn’t anymore, when did it stop? Did you turn it off? Was it ever on?

You don’t remember. Can’t think.

Your heart feeling like it’s going to burst in your chest.

The look on his face, a look you wished to never see on those features. A look you know you’ve caused.

“Did you-”

“Hear it all? Yeah..yeah.” Eddie stands. Runs his hands down his thighs, taps his finger against his leg as the both of you stand there awkwardly.

The first awkward moment you’ve ever shared.

Once again caused by you.

All of this mess caused by you.

Your fault.

Stupid girl.

“Cats out of the bag now,” he jokes. Tries to give you the smallest of smiles but you don’t return it. Can’t and it makes his face fall as you start to pace.

Your hands shaking. There’s fear and heartache making your blood boil, making your limbs feel weird, making your head spin.

“It’s a good thing you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me or this might be realllll-”

His sentence is cut off, unfinished when your eyes connect. When he sees the look on your face that does the opposite of denying his words. You can’t even open your mouth to save face, to tell him that’s not the case because would that even be true?

The two of have been sneaking around. Have gone out of your way to keep it a secret. You thought it was a mutual agreement that yes, while you weren’t embarrassed to be with him, that it was best that no one knew. That your parents never found out.

It’s not like this was anything. It was nothing. The two of you were just hanging out. It didn’t mean anything.

Your pacing stops as does your breathing when you realize you’ve said those words out loud.

And if the look on Eddie’s face before had hurt the one that he was giving you now was enough to make you want to fall to your knees.

He nods, chuckles weakly under his breath. “The steerage will see himself out. So long, princess.” He says without another glance to you. Without looking back at you, without yelling at you the way you know you deserve right now.

But that wasn’t Eddie.

You weren’t brave and he wasn’t a fighter.

What a match.

You don’t wait to make sure he’s gone before you let out a broken sob, the burning behind your eyes finally coming to the forefront to have hot tears pouring down your face. You can feel your heart shatter in your chest, knowing that the sweet summer you’ve spent alongside Eddie is over.

As is the hope you had held out in your heart that maybe a different life was something you wanted for yourself. That you could tell off your parents. That you could feel something other than dread. That you could actually be yourself with someone.

That maybe these feelings could withstand past the summer and you’d actually be happy to come home on holidays because you’d get to see Eddie.

But maybe these were just more lies you were good at telling. Because look where hope got you, where feelings got you.

Your mother was right.

Girlish feelings only ruined things.

And you’ve gone and ruined everything.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson series #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #heavy metal love !

736 notes · View notes