Random Headcanons About Baby Roy:

shakespeare is metal. (2/?)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson desperately needs to graduate this year, and you're the only tutor that hasn't turned him down. (part 2 to "i’m not above begging")

warnings: cursing, mentions of murder/suicide (in regards to shakespeare), jason carver being a shithead (is that even a warning??)

a/n: you guyssss 🥺 I can’t believe the first part of this has 100 notes! thank you all so much for being so kind. i’m truly grateful for every single one of you that took the time to read this and provide such positive responses. it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. I got carried away again at 2,764 words (I have a too much gene, oops). as always, all feedback is welcomed/appreciated! please let me know if you want to be tagged in the next parts!

tags: @uraveragequeer

It had been three weeks since I had started tutoring Eddie. I really wasn’t sure what to expect when I had agreed to the arrangement in the first place. I had known of Eddie, but I didn’t know Eddie. Not really. The morning of our first tutoring session, I ransacked my entire closet trying to figure out what to wear. I had never given so much thought into an outfit, despite the obligatory first day of school outfit of course. I stared at my frazzled face in the mirror, cheeks glowing red from hurling clothes on and off my body, my once neatly curled hair now sticking out in odd places. Why do I suddenly care so much what Eddie Munson thinks of my clothes? He wears that same Hellfire shirt every other day. 

Eddie had agreed to meet me that Monday morning in the library at 7:30 am sharp. I had expected him to be late, partly because Eddie Munson was not known for his punctuality, but also because I literally had to give him directions to the library. It amused me that the place I had spent a majority of my time in high school, he had never stepped foot in. I arrived at 7:15 and took a seat at one of the tables near the back. The library was empty, not even the librarian had arrived yet. My knee bounced in anticipation as I continuously checked the clock behind the desk what felt like every 30 seconds. 

7:17. 7:19. 7:21. 7:23. 

Just as the minute hand landed at 7:30, Eddie Munson was bursting through the library doors with a large, goofy grin on his face. My face must have betrayed my inner thoughts, because he looked at me with a knowing smirk and pointed in my direction as he took a seat in front of me.

“You thought I wasn’t gonna show, didn’t ya?”

“No! I just..expected you to get lost..that’s all. Since you’ve never been in here. Um, let’s get started, yeah?”

“Sure. But just so you know, I’d never stand you up angel.”

Eddie shot me a wink and a lopsided grin, pulling out a pencil and a notebook that had definitely seen better days. And me? I was malfunctioning. Eddie Munson winked at me. And called me angel. And I liked it. Why did I like it so much?

That was essentially how all of our tutoring sessions had gone so far. Eddie would be his usual charming self, say or do something flirtatious, and I would be left a stuttering mess trying to steer his attention back to the task at hand, which was a victory in itself. That boy had the attention span of a baby goldfish when it came to topics he bore no interest in. Dungeons and Dragons? Oh he could go on for days. Shakespeare? I couldn’t even get him to hold a book in his hand for longer than 5 seconds.

“I don’t understand why I have to do this. Why do I have to agree that this old dude is ‘one of the greatest writers of our time’ when I think he sucks? It’s forced conformity. I mean who even decided Shakespeare was so ‘great’?  Why should we have to be forced to study him until the end of time because of one stuck up asshole’s opinion who’s clearly never read anything worthwhile? Now Tolkien, there’s a fucking writer. Why can’t I do this stupid project on Lord of the Rings?”

“Because you want to pass Mrs. O’Donnell’s class and graduate?”

Eddie groaned loudly, rubbing his large palms over his face and tilting his chair back as he put his feet up on the table which earned him a dirty look from the librarian. His arms crossed over his chest and he stared down at the several books in front of him with detest, as if each one of them had personally offended him. His final project was to pick a work of Shakespeare, read it, and write a three page essay on its meaning. The project itself wasn’t difficult, but Eddie was.

“Look why don’t you think of it as a..um..what do you call it in your game? A challenge?”

“Quest, sweetheart. It’s called a quest.”

Sweetheart. 

“R-Right, quest. Think of this as a quest. Shakespeare, is your key to getting out of Mrs. O’Donnell’s class, and Hawkins High itself. Except instead of dice, you have to write a paper.”

“But dice are so much cooler! The new set I got last week are-”

“Eddie.”

“Fine.”

Eddie grumbled and picked up a copy of Romeo and Juliet, eyeing the cover in disgust. His large brown eyes scanned over the various copies laying on the table, all of which he held with contempt. Eddie’s eyes were quickly becoming one of my favorite things about him. They were so warm and expressive, like large pools of melted chocolate. It was hard not to get lost in them. They felt like a safe space. His fingers slowly moved over the covers of the worn paperbacks, his large rings gleaming under the harsh lights in the library. Eddie’s hands were also becoming another one of my favorite things about him. They were so large, and everytime I looked at them, I remembered how soft and warm his skin felt against my own. Eddie was an expressive talker, always talking with his hands and animated gestures. I often found myself getting caught up in his movements, eyes so focused on following his fingers I couldn’t even hear what he was saying. During the past 3 weeks, my mind constantly wandered to his hands. He had mentioned being in a band once, which instantly sent my mind into a frenzy wondering what his hands looked like when he played.

Eddie had been a constant figure in my mind ever since our interaction in the tutoring center. The more time we spent together, the worse it seemed to get. I found myself worrying about my appearance more, tripping over my words in front of him, constantly looking for excuses to talk to him outside of our sessions. I had no idea what was happening to me or why I was all of a sudden so enthralled with Eddie Munson.

“Alright, level with me angel. Which one of these books will make me want to slam my head in my van door the least?”

The completely unamused expression on Eddie’s face caused me to laugh out loud. I quickly cupped one of my hands over my mouth and flashed the librarian an apologetic look. I shook my head as I regained my composure, looking over at Eddie who had a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. I made the mistake of letting Eddie know that I thought he was funny. Since the first time he made me giggle, he made it his personal mission to get at least one laugh out of me every session, no matter what it took. There was no length he wouldn’t go to.

“You are going to get us kicked out! I can’t be banned from the library Eddie, I practically live here! Look, Shakespeare is not that bad. If you would pay attention, you would know he’s actually pretty..metal.”

Eddie stared at me incredulously with wide eyes, his chair landing back on the floor with a loud thunk as he leaned over the table. His dark brows knit together in the middle of his forehead as he mimicked my words.

“I’m sorry..did you just say Shakespeare is..metal?”

“For his time, yeah. A lot of his plays involve murder, or suicide, or a murder-suicide. Some of them are pretty violent. He was also actually kind of a rebel. He wrote tons of plays that cryptically called out the royals of his time, knowing that they would be performed in front of them. He essentially mocked them to their faces, and they had no idea.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered between the titles on the table and me, disbelief written clearly all over his features. He leaned forward to rest his cheek in the palm of his hand. After several minutes of contemplation, he nodded slowly with a click of his tongue, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Huh, that is pretty fucking metal.”

I pulled out a copy of Hamlet from the stack and put it in front of Eddie, gently tapping on the cover.

“You’ll like this one. There’s murder, suicide, witchcraft and other supernatural stuff. Arguably one of Shakespeare’s best soliloquies. It’s one of my favorites. Plus, I think you’ll like Hamlet. He’s a drama queen, like you.”

Eddie let out a sharp gasp, covering his chest in an exaggerated fashion with one of his large hands. He painted an expression of mock offense and quickly stood from the chair, gaining everyone’s attention in the library.

“Excuse me? You..you think I’m a drama queen? Wow. I just..you know..you think you know someone and then..they just break your heart. Unbelievable. I really thought we had something Y/N, something special.”

I tried my hardest to contain my giggles, quickly reaching out to grasp onto Eddie’s wrist as he started to walk away from our table. My cheeks flamed when I realized all the other students in the library were staring at us. Some of them looked amused, some of them looked disgusted. I hated the way people stared at Eddie. I hated how much they judged him. 

“Eddie! Shh! Seriously, please sit down. If we get kicked out of the library, I can’t tutor you anymore. You know I can’t bring you to the tutoring center anymore.”

Eddie had been unofficially banned from the tutoring center after our second session for being a “distraction”. After ten minutes of drum solos with pencils, Eddie being well, just Eddie, and a heated exchange with one of the jocks, we moved permanently to the library. Although, it seemed like it was only a matter of time before we were unofficially banished from here as well.

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, his long fingers nearly covering the entire front cover of the copy of Hamlet still in his hand. He cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips, eventually sitting on top of the table right next to my chair. The sudden closeness caused me to tense as the scent of his cologne filled my senses, leaving me somewhat dizzy.

“Fine. But only because I want to sit. Not because you said so. I want to make that perfectly clear.”

“Crystal. But for the record, you know you’re a drama queen. You practically put on your own Shakespearian show everyday at lunch.”

“Well if you wanted a front row seat sweetheart, all you had to do was ask.”

My next words of banter immediately caught in my throat, and I prayed to whoever was listening Eddie couldn’t see the change in color of my cheeks. Eddie Munson was a natural flirt. That was just his personality. I had to remind myself that several times over the past few weeks. He’s not flirting with you, dummy. He’s just being nice. He talks like this to everyone. Luckily the bell rang and saved me from becoming a stumbling mess in front of Eddie once again.

“I mean it, you should come sit with us sometime. If you’re feeling brave. See ya later, angel.”

I grumbled under my breath the entire walk to my locker. Damn Eddie Munson. Damn him and his stupid wink and stupid smirk and stupid cute dumb face that sends my brain into a total meltdown.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I barely registered the pair of blue eyes that were staring at me expectantly as I shut my locker door.

“Hey..you.”

Jason Carver. I had tutored him several times in the past two and a half years, and he still didn’t know my fucking name. I forced a tight-lipped smile on my lips and held my books protectively against my chest. 

“Hi Jason. What can I do for you?”

“I’m actually here about what I can do for you.”

My face must have given away my confusion, since Jason started to laugh and leaned against the locker next to mine. A little too close for my liking.

“You know, about the freak.”

“Excuse me?”

I hated the way that word rolled off his tongue so easily, as if it had said it a million times before. I knew he had. And I knew exactly who he was hurling that word at.

“Come on, you know you don’t have to tutor him right? You can say no.”

“No I can’t, Jason. It’s my job.”

“I know plenty of tutors who have turned that freak down, for good reason.”

“Well unlike them, I take my job seriously. I can’t just turn away a student that needs my help.”

Jason’s lips stretched into a grin that I’m sure was supposed to be charming, but to me it just looked threatening. Jason didn’t like to be challenged. He took a step forward to lean against my locker, placing his arm on the metal above my head. I didn’t like the way he towered over me. It made me feel like a helpless animal trapped by its prey, being taunted. 

“Look, I get it. You’re a sweet girl, and a saint if you ask me. I know you take it seriously. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have passed chemistry and been kicked off the team a long time ago. I owe you a lot. Which is why I’m here. I’m just looking out for you, okay? I know you try to see the good in people and all, but there’s no good in that devil worshiping freak. Like I said, I owe you. So if he starts to bother you, or make you feel unsafe, come to me. I just wanna protect you.”

Protect me? You don’t even know my fucking name. And you don’t know Eddie. It took everything in my power not to laugh in his face, every shred of self-control not to call him an asshole and to mind his fucking business. But I couldn’t do that. I’m the nice girl. Nice girls don’t talk like that. Nice girls don’t cause a scene. Nice girls smile and nod. So, that’s exactly what I did.

“Thank you, Jason. I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Hey, you looked out for me. I just want to repay the favor. You’ll come to me, right? Promise?”

There was an edge to his tone, like he was daring me to disobey. My fingers gripped onto the spine of my math textbook so tightly I knew they had turned white. I did my best to appear natural, forging another submissive smile onto my lips.

“I promise.”

My answer seemed to satisfy him. He gave my shoulder a tight squeeze, threw me his most charming smile, and took off down the hall towards the gym. I felt dirty. I felt like I needed to take the most scalding hot shower I could stand to burn away every piece of evidence of Jason Carver’s hand on my shoulder. But mostly, I felt guilty. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t correct him. I didn’t stand up for Eddie, which is what I should have done. Social status be damned. Not like I really had one, but still. There was a nauseating feeling building in my stomach. He would have done it for you.

Eddie would have stood up for me. He wouldn’t have hesitated. He wouldn’t be a coward like me. At that moment, I wondered if he knew. I wondered if he could see right through me, see me for who I really was. A coward. A girl that always did as she was told so she didn’t make waves. A girl that kept quiet, and never spoke up, even against something she knew was wrong. Another conformist. 

He would be ashamed of you.

That one thought played over and over in my head all night as I laid in bed. That nauseous feeling never went away, it just continued to gnaw at my nerves and only grew in strength as the hours ticked away. I thought about Eddie, and how I was going to handle seeing his sweet smile while my guilt was eating me up inside. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

so can we start hunting down white liberals now or what

Do you know what, at least Käärijä will be the new Verka Serduchka. But Loreen? She'll be hated by so many people now and most won't even remember that she won.

Does anyone remember who won when Verka performed? No. But everyone remembers Verka.

Sunlight / Roman Roy Imagine

Request: I would love to get some sort of a happy ending for Roman!! Maybe post-finale him and his girlfriend/wife/whatever run away from New York and do their own thing?

Oh my gosh love I so agree with you!! Let us give this man a hug and some love pls I beg <3 

Warning: strong language, mentions of smoking, mentions of death, mentions of blood/injuries, Logan Roy being homophobic, sexual innuendo, mentions of childhood abuse!

The vibe I was going for in this is based on ‘Romulus’ by Sufjan Stevens, so I highly recommend listening to it while reading this - it’s one of my all time favourite songs!

(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @924inlegend.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Roman Roy couldn’t remember the last time he had actually felt the warmth of light, instead of just observing its strands.

He had spent so much of his life withering obediently within the shadows. So many years curled up tight underneath his bedframe, shaking with fear and snivelling into his kneecaps as the cast shadows of his austere room seemed to creep inch by inch towards his toes; the pressure of bone was so tight against the bridge of his nose that he nearly burst blood from his left nostril. That’s where you would always look first: you would kneel down slowly and lift the edges of his silk sheets, as if you were a curious ornithologists trying their best not to frighten the wild nest of a flight-inclined bird. The first thing he would notice, before he caught side of your hand sliding out to grip him across the floorboards, was how the faint light  seemed to make the fringes of your head glow with strands of silver, like warm moonlight falling through the fresh sprigs of silver maples that brushed across the slats of his windowsill. 

It had made him gasp.

He had spent so long living behind the colossal shadow of his father’s form: curled up, deferential, strangled. It was so stifling there, so dank and claggy that he used to become saturated with the feeling. It used to sink into his clothes, his skin, his muscles, until he was so laden that they began to move of their own accord; after long enough time being asphyxiated, his limbs began to seep life from his father, mimicking his harshness with shoving twitches of his arms, moving his choking jaw with Logan’s fury and repeating his apathy. You would stop their movements by touching his hand where he sat, despondent, at his father’s business dinners. Seeing him look so downtrodden, the familiar hunch of his back becoming more and more prominent as he slouched, you frowned, and he made no reply. He was busy trying not to notice the stern gaze of his father, the red hot fury burning like a demon’s wrath in his eyes, warning him to duck his head and behave. 

To try and cheer him up, you balanced your fork above your mouth in a makeshift moustache, and tried do to your best impression of his father’s new chief financial officer Karl. At fifteen, he still had enough life in him left to let a laugh burst out at that, but he quickly stifled it by shoving the back of his free hand against his mouth. He bit down until he could feel the familiar taste of tangy blood run freely against his wiping tongue, and he felt better. But you, oh you, your infectious laughter rang freely into the warmth of the lavender infused air, and filled an adoring Roman Roy with feeling he never wanted to forget.

The slap he received from his father in the kitchen afterwards was the first time he has lost a tooth, yet he still dared to chime in with your giggles until he was gasping for air. 

Weiterlesen

above average. (4/?)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson desperately needs to graduate this year, and you're the only tutor that hasn't turned him down. (this is part 4 in this series. I have no idea how to add links to the other parts, someone pls teach me)

warnings: cursing, fighting, mentions of drugs, jason carver being a shithead, slightly sexual (minors dni pls), angst, eddie being a meanie (he would never)

a/n: I would like to formally apologize if this breaks your heart or makes you cry. you're welcome to yell at me in my messages. I promise the next part will be nicer! (and ~spicy~ wink wink) thank you all so much for all your sweet words of encouragement on the first parts! as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated! please let me know if you would like to be tagged!

tags: @uraveragequeerqueer @rosaline-black @willowss055 @lovsersclub @bellegirl16

The door to my locker was slammed shut with a clamorous bang, causing me to squeal loudly and jump nearly two feet into the air. I clutched at my chest, trying to steady my breathing and preparing to hurl insults at whatever jackass had sent me into cardiac arrest when I was met with the sight of none other than Eddie Munson himself, beaming down at me with a mischievous grin. 

“Eddie! What the-”

“I’m above average.”

A crease formed at the center of my forehead, my brows crinkling as I stared up at him in confusion. I had gotten to know Eddie pretty well over the past month that I had been tutoring him, but I was still struggling to learn his language. I often had to enlist one of the boys to help me translate his “Eddie-isms”.

“Huh?”

Eddie retrieved the crumpled piece of paper that was trapped between the door to my locker and his large hand, shoving it directly in front of my face. It took a minute to register that it was an extra credit quiz Mrs. O’Donnell had given him on Monday. She had agreed to give him extra credit assignments to help him pass as long as he kept up with our tutoring sessions. She really wanted him out of her classroom. I was almost certain that if Eddie was going to repeat his senior year a third time, she was going into early retirement.

I was drawn to the bold, red ink scrawled at the corner of the paper that read ‘C+’. My eyes shifted swiftly between a grinning Eddie and the indeed above average grade at the corner of the page.

“Oh my god..Eddie! You passed! All on your own!”

Here’s the thing most people did not understand about Eddie Munson: he was not stupid. He was in fact very smart. He simply wasn’t engaged in any of his classes. To be fair, none of them were exactly riveting, and neither were the teachers. If there’s anything I’ve learned from tutoring, it’s that a good teacher can make all the difference when it comes to comprehension. 

Eddie's interest was not easily captured by less than thrilling subjects, and he had a hard time sitting still. Eddie was a creative person. He wrote incredible pieces of music and created elaborate campaigns for his club. He thrived the most when he was able to use his creative side on the task at hand, but when he really focused his attention and applied himself, Eddie could do anything.

He slapped his large hands against the metal of the locker doors, as if imitating a drum roll, and pumped his fists into the air triumphantly.

“Fuck yeah I did!”

Eddie’s strong arms suddenly wrapped around my waist, lifting me into the air and hugging me tightly against his strong chest as he twirled me around in a victory lap. I gripped onto the denim that covered his shoulders with a squeak, hanging on for dear life. My face flamed promptly from the closeness, and the judgemental stares of everyone around us. I could feel the warmth of his body against the thin material of my dress, feeling immensely grateful I had chosen to wear tights today. I was overcome with wonder of what his bare skin would feel like under my fingertips.

“Eddie! Put me down!”

“Not until you say I’m above average!”

My authoritative tone was lost throughout my fit of giggles. Eddie’s unruly curls seemed to twirl along with us as he continued to move our bodies together in a giant circle. As much as I didn’t want him to let go, I did want everyone to stop staring.

“Okay, okay! You’re above average!”

True to his word, Eddie quickly set me down on my feet, not bothering to take a step back. He leaned against my locker with a grin that stretched across his entire face, causing deep dimples to indent his smooth cheeks. I loved this smile. I loved his dimples. I loved the twinkle of happiness that was shining in his eyes. My chest constricted with complete adoration for the boy in front of me. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, I had gone from only knowing of Eddie Munson through whispers and rumors, to falling ridiculously, helplessly, and irrevocably hard for him. Like jumping out of a plane without a parachute and praying to whoever would listen there’s a soft landing, hard.

I wasn’t even sure how it had happened. That first day in the tutoring center, he sparked something within me, something I didn’t even know was there. A simple ember of a crush started to burn, and every minute I spent with him, the flames grew higher and higher and eventually exploded into a blaze that I didn’t even think God herself could put out.

I was completely enamored with Eddie Munson. I didn’t even know I could feel this way about a person. I like to think of myself as a realistic and reasonable person, but there were nights I contemplated if I really was under some kind of spell. Maybe Eddie really did know black magic. I’d had a somewhat “serious” boyfriend before, but it never felt like this. The logical part of my brain desperately tried to make sense of what was happening to my heart, and between my thighs.

Thoughts of him created a dull ache that I couldn’t will away. Everytime he spoke, my eyes fixated on his plump lips, craving the feeling of them against my own. On my skin. Anywhere he wanted them. I followed his hands as they danced in conversation, imagining how much better they would feel than my own. I’m not ashamed to admit that I had touched myself more than once to fantasies of Eddie Munson. The desire he created within me could not be ignored. It conjured sinful visions of him in my dreams, waking me out of a dead sleep covered in sweat, my body feeling as if it was on fire. I craved his touch, more than anything. I wanted to be twisted up in my bed sheets with more than just the ghost of him. I wanted the real thing.

“I’m so proud of you, Eddie.”

There was a light shade of pink that coated the tops of his cheeks, dipping his head for a moment before he met my gaze again with a tender smile on his lips.

“It’s all because of you, you know?”

“You did it all on your own, Eddie. You should be proud.”

“Well I have even more to be proud of, because I did the impossible.”

“Oh really? Do tell.”

“So, since I’ve been passing all my assignments and actually showing up to class and shit, I convinced Mrs. O’Donnell to let us cancel our session after school on Friday.”

“Oh. Um..well, that’s..” Awful. Horrible. Terrible. “That is an impressive feat. Um, that’s great Eddie. You uh, you deserve a break. You’ve been working really hard.”

“It’s actually a huge relief since I uh, gotta restock some..supplies.”

“For Hellfire?”

“Um..well..no. Not..exactly. It’s for my other..uh..extracurriculars.”

Eddie glanced anywhere but at me, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. The action caused the bottom of his Hellfire shirt to raise up just slightly, granting me a perfect view of the dark patch of hair just above the handcuff buckle of his belt. Focus.

“Oh. Oh.”

A deep hue of scarlet took over my features when it finally clicked what Eddie was talking about. He’s talking about drugs, you idiot. I internally cringed at how sheltered he must think I was. I honestly often forgot that Eddie was a drug dealer. It wasn’t that I didn’t know about it, he dealt to a ton of people at school. It just never came up in conversation between us.

“Well uh..good luck?”

Eddie snickered as he looked down at me, tilting his head in a playful manner and crossing his arms across his chest. His eyebrows knit together in the center of his forehead.

“Thank you?”

I scrunched up my nose as I smiled shyly, nibbling on my bottom lip. Good luck? Seriously? That’s the best you could come up with?

“I..sorry. I’m not really sure what the proper etiquette is when it comes to..um..that. ‘Break a leg’ seemed a bit..much?” 

The smile on Eddie’s lips stretched into a grin that seemed to cover the entire lower half of his face, putting all of his teeth on display. My beloved dimples once appeared at the corners of his mouth. He shook his head slowly, clicking his tongue against his cheek.

“You are..incredibly adorable. You know that?”

My breath hitched in my throat and my knees suddenly felt like they were going to give out at any moment. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at his lips. Say something. Say something. Say something!

“I..um..uh..well I guess I’ll..s-see you Monday then.”

I tightened my grip on the strap of my backpack, prepared to turn and bolt away as fast as I could before I dropped dead from embarrassment. Eddie, sensing my apprehension, quickly reached out to grab onto my shoulder with a laugh as I was about to make my getaway.

“Hey, wait! Listen I um..I..I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh..okay. What is it?”

Eddie retracted his hand from my shoulder, twisting one of his large rings around his middle finger slowly. I had come to learn this was a nervous habit of his. What was he nervous about? Eddie averted his gaze down to his worn sneakers. A frown settled on my lips as I gently placed my hand on his wrist to get his attention.

“Eddie? What’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing, no nothing’s wrong. I just..well..since you don’t have to tutor me after school on Friday, and my uh..restock..won’t take very long..I was just..I was gonna ask..well I was wondering if you know..maybe..um..I was wondering if you would maybe want to-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing freak?”

Any indication that Eddie was nervous completely vanished the second Jason Carver shoved his way in between us. The tender smile on his lips sank into a deep frown, his eyes narrowing down at the blonde as he stood up straight. He made Jason look small when he stood to his full height. It was no secret that Eddie and Jason absolutely hated each other. Jason was convinced that Eddie was some evil, devil worshiping, cultist that was a danger to all of Hawkins. Eddie hated Jason mainly because he hated him, but also because he was a narcissistic bully to anyone who dared to be different.

I couldn’t see over Jason’s shoulders. I attempted to force myself in between the two boys before an all out brawl ensued, but Jason shoved me forcefully back behind him, which only seemed to piss Eddie off even further. As he took a step closer, I gripped onto Jason’s arm to yank him back.

“Jason, stop! I’m tutoring him, you know that.”

“Just because you’re tutoring this freak doesn’t mean he should be touching you.”

“What can I say, I’m a hands-on learner.”

I tried to shoot Eddie a pleading glance, but his attention was solely focused on the jock in front of him. God Eddie, please shut up. Please for once, don’t be a smartass and just shut up. I should’ve known better. Eddie practically created the term “stubborn”.

“I’m going to tell you this one time, and one time only. Leave her alone, freak. Don’t talk to her. Don’t come near her. Don’t even look at her. This, is done. Walk away. Next time, there won’t be a warning.”

The hardness on Eddie’s features dissipated slowly, and a wicked smile grew over his face, covering his lips like ivy. There was a vexatious glint in his eye that made me nervous. Eddie clasped his hands together behind his back and gave a light shrug of his shoulders.

“Okay.”

A sharp gasp escaped my lips. I wasn’t expecting that answer, and clearly Jason wasn’t either. I snuck at glance up at him to see surprise written just as clearly over his features as it was on mine. The other three jocks that had formed a circle around us all exchanged their own looks of disbelief. 

“I’ll make you a deal, Carver. I’ll leave her alone..if..you can tell me her name.”

My eyes widened in shock at Eddie’s boldness and I was certain my jaw had hit the floor. Jason whipped his head down to stare at me incredulously, frantically searching my eyes as if they held the answer. For once, I was glad he didn’t know my name. I stared up at him innocently, as if I wasn’t in on the joke. His eyes darted over my face, my books, even my locker, looking for something, anything that would clue him in.

“Well? Go on. It’s a simple answer, really. I mean she’s only helped your dumbass what, seven times? Eight? Ten? Surely you know her name. You know, since you care so much. Surely you’re not the kind of asshole that uses people for your own personal gain without having the common decency to learn their fucking name.”

It all happened so fast. One second Jason was standing in front of me, the next he was lunging forward at Eddie with balled fists. Eddie managed to shove Jason roughly against the lockers before two of the jocks surged to pull him off. I didn’t know what to do. I was frozen in place with fear. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I took a step forward. I wasn’t sure what I was planning to do, but I was instantly tugged back by one of the jocks that had pulled me hard into his chest with one arm.

“Let go of me! Let go! Help! Someone please, help! Stop them!”

I tried my hardest to free myself from the boy’s strong grasp. I looked around at the crowd of students that had gathered around to watch the spectacle that was taking place. I screamed at them, pleading with them for help. I could hear punches being thrown and lockers being slammed. I was terrified to see who was on the receiving end.

“Carver! Munson! What the hell is going on?”

The sea of students parted instantly to let Mr. Scott through. The group of boys didn’t hesitate to pull apart and untangle themselves to meet the man’s pissed off gaze. Fuck..Eddie’s going to be expelled..and it’s all my fault.

I finally managed to break free from the boy’s iron grip, angrily pushing my way through the crowd of students and took off down the hallway. I slammed the door to the tutoring center shut behind me and leaned forward to grip onto one of the chairs. Hot tears pricked at the corners of my eyes and I threaded my fingers through the roots of my hair, tugging roughly.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Eddie was going to be expelled, and that thought made my heart sink into the pit of my stomach. It was all my fault. All his hard work, down the drain. He wasn’t going to graduate. I should have never agreed to tutor him. I should have never said yes. He’s going to hate me. I ruined everything. 

“Jesus, there you are! Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

Eddie cupped my cheeks in his large hands, tilting my head up so that he could frantically search my face for any sign of injury. His eyes were dark and wild, his usual untamed curls even more unruly framed against his face. I could see a faint bruise appearing on his left cheekbone. The sight at first made me want to cry, but it only fueled the anger I felt. I braced my palms against his chest and shoved him back with as much force as I could manage.

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“What?”

“I can’t believe you! Why did you have to do that? I..how could you be so stupid Eddie?”

His face was a mixture of shock and hurt. He blinked a few times as he stared at me in bewilderment.

“Wait a second, are you seriously mad at me right now for what happened back there?”

“Of course I’m mad, Eddie! I’m furious! Why would you do that? Why?”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do? Just stand there and let him be a complete asshole?”

“You were supposed to walk away!”

“Fuck that! I wasn’t about to just stand there and let him treat you like shit. He fucking pushed you, I had to do something!”

“I didn’t ask you to do that! God Eddie, you’re not my boyfriend, I don’t need you to defend me like that!”

I regret the words the second they left my mouth. I hated the way they tasted. They were bitter like vinegar and made my stomach twist into knots. Silence lingered heavily in the air. Eddie’s chest rose and fell quickly to keep up with his accelerated breathing. Anger still rolled off of him in waves. There was hurt in his eyes, but his face was stone cold. I had never seen him like this before, and I hated it. But mostly, I hated that he was looking at me like this. 

His beautiful features contorted into an expression of repulsion, and a dry, humorless laugh sounded from the back of his throat. The edge of his lips curled into a sneer as he took a step forward to stare down at me.

“Boyfriend? Are you fucking kidding me? I may be the freak of Hawkins, but I’m not that much of a freak that I would date the fucking tutor girl.”

Eddie’s venomous words rang loudly in my ears. I could feel my bottom lip beginning to quiver and in that moment I hated myself for looking so weak in front of him. As much as I willed myself not to cry in front of Eddie, I couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears from washing over my cheeks. I took a step back from him, as if his words had physically slapped me, and clutched at my stomach.

Eddie clenched his jaw as he stared down at me, quickly looking away so that he didn’t have to see my face. He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip and shook his head quickly, beginning to back away towards the door.

“You know what, Y/L/N, I don’t think I need your services anymore. I can do this on my own. I don’t need you.”

Eddie slammed the door shut behind him, leaving me crumbling to the floor with a choked sob ripping through my chest. The pain was everywhere, all at once, and I didn’t know how to stop it. My body felt like it was made of lead, and I couldn’t move. I was stuck in the spot he broke me. I didn’t even care if anyone walked in and found me sprawled over the floor like a shattered piece of glass. How had things gone so unbelievably bad, so fast?

For the first time ever, I went home early. And I didn’t go back to school the day after that. Or the day after that.

The Price of a Kiss - Eddie Munson x reader

Summary - You start trading Eddie little nick knacks for kisses

A/N - Tiiiniest little drabble from my drafts because I feel bad not being able to post any new writing, 1k words

“What’s this?” Eddie’s eyes weren't even looking at the rock you were holding up in front of him, his dark, doe brown eyes were linked to yours, and he wasn’t planning on looking away.

“A rock,” you smiled proudly at him, the small stone glinting softly in the sunlight as you held it up, with tiny streaks of crystal scattering the light and reflecting onto his face.

“I can see it’s a rock sweetheart,” he said as he picked the small rock from your fingers before holding it up to the sunlight and admiring it. “But why?”

“I dunno- I saw it and it looked pretty, I wanted to give it to you,” you wrung your hands together as you spoke and in that moment Eddie knew you had to be the most adorable creature to ever walk this earth-

“So you saved it? Brought it all the way here to me?” Eddie asked you with big eyes, the rock long since pocketed in his black ripped jeans, and you nodded in response to his question, biting your lip ever so slightly.

“Why thank you sweetheart,” his voice was soft as he spoke, and he was close enough that you could hear every slight shift in his voice, every breath and tone change. Eddie’s arm was wrapped around your waist bringing you impossibly close to him. “How could I ever repay you?”

It was painstakingly clear what he wanted, his lips were hovering over yours, almost brushing but just barely not, yet you could still swear you would know what he would taste like when he finally kissed you.

“A kiss perhaps?” your eyebrows raised ever so slightly and you tipped your head to the side, pursing your lips together as you looked at him.

“A fair trade indeed,” Eddie cooed at you softly, his rough hands grabbing your face and cupping it in his hands before he connected your lips together. His lips slightly chapped, but yet they were always softer than you expected, and he kissed you with such gentle care almost as if he was worried about shattering you in his grip.

“There, I think that is reward enough don’t you?” Before you could protest Eddie’s lips had left yours and you could tell he was fighting back the smirk that was nipping at the corner of his mouth. You pouted at him and stood on your tiptoes to try and reach his lips, which easily cracked his facade and his grin broke out over his face.

“Nuh-uh my love, that wasn’t our deal, I’ll suppose you’ll just have to trade me more.”

That was the first time you and Eddie exchanged a trade, and it was only the first of many times. After that you did whatever you could to find things to trade with him. Little knick knacks, a scrunchie, more pretty rocks you would pick up on the walk to his trailer, and once you made him a friendship bracelet that had him peppering your face in kisses.

“You know, I think you might end up collecting all the pebbles in Hawkins if you keep this up,” he once told you just before he gave you your well earned kiss. “I don’t care- if it means you’ll kiss me like that again I’ll do anything.

“Well, do you have something else to trade with me?”

It wasn’t as if he wouldn’t gladly give you as many kisses as you wanted, all you had to do was ask him, and you did. But you still loved the little trades you shared, and you loved finding little things to trade with him.

It almost became a little game to you, find the prettiest rock, the most perfect shell, make him something that you knew he would appreciate for more than just your small deals.

However, what you didn’t know was that Eddie kept everything you traded him, while he would pocket whatever little trinket you had brought him, when he got home, or when you weren’t looking he would slip it into the little box he had started keeping under his bed.

Even the bracelet you made for him, after he had given you your kiss he excitedly asked you to help him tie it around his wrist and after that it became a regular accessory, sitting just below his usual leather cuff. It was almost a little funny seeing the hand braided colourful friendship bracelet tied around his wrist next to the hard and cut black leather, it was such a stark contrast that it shouldn’t make sense yet somehow it did so perfectly.

It was almost like a sense of pride for him, every now and then he would reach under his bed to fumble around for the box, pouring out all the small trinkets onto his bed just to scoop them all up into his hands. Like a goblin would with his gold coins.

And it would lead to the silliest little pieces of conversation between the two of you. Like the time you were sitting on the couch, his hand tangled with yours when you pulled a slightly cracked shell out of your pocket, you didn’t even have to say anything. He simply picked it from your hand and started examining it against the dimmed light in the trailer living room.

“I don’t think this is enough for a kiss my love, my rates have gone up,” his voice was silky smooth as he spoke, and his thumb was on your chin forcing you to part your lips ever so slightly and the softest whine escaped from your lips. “Would you settle for a kiss on the cheek?”

“Everything is so expensive in this economy these days,” you muttered and complained, pouting ever so slightly at him to try and gain some affection in your bargaining.

“Oh but you’re so cute, how am I supposed to resist?” Eddie let the question hang in the air for a moment before he kissed you.

Trans women make the world a brighter place

♥♥♥

T4T.

pairing: trans!eddie munson x transmasc! reader

type: fluff <3

cw: nothing (:

other: some eddie t4t hcs while I work on requests

# met during pre-T

# supportive wayne bro, helped him come up with a name

# sweetest bby

# you take your T shots together <3

# wayne taught him how to shave. he prefers a smooth face and finds the facial hair too itchy

# loves when you look after his scars and make sure that they heal right

# before surgery you had to remind him a lot to bind properly, a lot of the time he would forget because of his campaigns or whatever else was going on in his life

# you had to tell his ass to stay in bed after surgery

# he was extremely mopey because he had to stop taking T postop, so you'd remind him how handsome he is. you just lay in bed with him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear to get him through it

# adores the fact you took care of him during his recovery, so he did the same. never leaves your side after surgery

# if he's feeling dysphoric you drop whatever it is you're doing to comfort him. even if it's important. you'll call him at any hour and tell him you're coming over, and smother him in love

# if you feel dysphoric he tries his best to distract you, mostly by playing his guitar or pampering you

# not many people know that you two are trans. mostly close friends and family for obvious reasons. eddie does like showing off his scars though, so maybe the occasional people know

# he was picked on a lot (before taking T and getting top surgery), so he got called a faggot or a sissy. a lot of people mistook it for him not going through puberty

# style his hair for him <333

# he gets excited whenever bottom growth happens so expect a lot of excited screaming

# sock packers (:

# he gets so happy when you call him handsome (:

masterlist.

hello!! for the mini fic asks I would like to request D) subtle kindnesses, Roy siblings (any dynamic of your choosing!) <3

Hello! LOOK, this is neither a mini fic, nor probably what you wanted, haha, but I hope you like it regardless. <3

-

“Can I take your bag, sir?”

It takes Connor a minute to place the voice, to find the source among the crowd of staff lurking inside the doorway and briefly, he wonders if he’s come in the servants’ entrance, which - - jeez, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? Worse than the time he used the dessert spoon instead of the soup spoon at the Carnegie Weill Gala, or maybe not, given at least the only witnesses here would be the help, but then he casts his gaze up to the oakwood staircase, the gold-dipped chandelier, the ornately framed portrait of Caroline’s grandfather, and - -

Yeah.

Okay.

Not the servants’ entrance.

He hasn’t spent that much time at this particular house – one of the older Collingwood estates, and well out of London, located low on the rolling Cornish Coast – and honestly, he’d spent his last stay here drunk enough on the wine Caroline’s brother had brought up from Veneto that he’s not sure he remembers much beyond the bathroom anyway.

The thought makes Connor pick his duffel up off the floor, take a breath, inhaling the pungent smell of camphorwood and a log fire, somewhere in a room nearby, and, weirdly enough, the slightly saccharine scent of vanilla. 

“All good, señor, I’m gonna keep this one on me,” Connor says, stepping out of the way as one of the staff scrubbing at the floor inches closer to his shoes. “Trust me, I know how good the little hands in this house are at getting into things they shouldn’t.”

The butler gives him a strained smile at that, and Connor can’t help but laugh, even as two of the maids flutter past, one carrying a fax machine, the other rolls of paper, which feels - - positive? Maybe? He watches them disappear down the passage, chest oddly tight, and clears his throat, glances up, around, at the high arched ceiling, across the staircase, searching for anyone who isn’t getting a paycheck. Finally, he figures he just may as well ask it.

“Uh, is my dad - - ”

“Connor! You’ve made it!”

It’s Caroline’s voice, bright and loud, that bounces around the foyer, and Connor barely gets a glimpse of dark hair and narrow shoulders, a black draped gown like a Dickensian widow’s, before his throat dries and he bows his head like he did as a boy in Caroline’s ever simmering presence. He adjusts his bag strap, huffs a little at himself, reminds himself he’s not fifteen anymore, before forcing himself to look up as Caroline materialises at his side in a puff of tobacco and cinnamon-infused perfume.

She offers her cheek, and without a thought, he leans in to kiss it.

“Long flight, I imagine,” she says. “Do you want a drink?”

Connor blinks in surprise, glancing sideways at the grandfather clock down the hall, barely having struck midday, and says:

“Isn’t it a little early?”

“Surely you’re still on American time,” she grins, waspish, tilting her head as she steps over one of the floor cleaners and starts down the hall, as clear an instruction as any to follow her. “And a good host couldn’t let you drink alone.”

Stay Soft, Get Eaten 5k words. Succession gen fic. Set in 1987.

Send me mini fic prompts

Persecution (Roy!Sibling x Roman Roy)

Character/s: Roman, Jeryd, Kendall, Shiv

Word Count: 1,465

Requested: Hihihi!!! Would it be okay to request? Or maybe just as inspiration or something: i'd love to see the dynamic between roy!siblingreader and roman and how he would interact with them trying/being the big brother to them like connor and kendall are especially takeing care of them or being protective? I have severe roman brainrot rn lol and i love how you write each of them and overall the way you use words and how alive it all feels! ♡- anon

Inspired By: Family Jewels by Marina

Warning/s: sexual harassment, harassment, men being creeps

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: You know I had to do it!!! You know I had to!!! I can't actually remember all of the election party episode, so this might be a bit off. My apologies!!! Stop my love, Roman makes my brain rot too he lives in there 24/7!!! Thank you for such kind words!!! I try my best :) I hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

His hand lingers on the small of your back, on your shoulder, on your body. It burns all the way through. You don’t shake it off though. You can’t. So you smile and excuse yourself, trying to stop yourself from shuddering. It seems wherever you go, wherever you disappear, he is there. He is always there. If not in your presence, then calling, texting, emailing. He is obsessive, hungry, and you have been served to him on a silver platter whether they realize it or not. You sit alone on the couch, nursing your drink, your fourth or fifth of the night just to get through it. His knee touches you, his arm is around you. No one takes notice, not your brothers or sister. No one can save you. He speaks, but only to get closer, so close you can smell the scotch on his breath. He talks mindlessly of his campaign, of the work he and your brother have put into it. That is why you can’t resist. That is why you can’t push him away, throw your drink in his face, call him names that sit on the tip of your tongue. Because your brother has spent too much time building this relationship up, building this man up. You’ve told him time and time again that you don’t like him, that you side with your sister on this, but he doesn’t care. He is not your President yet, though God help you if he becomes him. You won’t be able to escape him. You won’t be able to run. 

His hand is on your thigh, inching down. As if his touch is fire you jump up, dropping your glass, spilling all over him, all over Shiv's carpet. Fuck, you think, fuck, fuck fuck. You apologize profusely despite yourself, picking up the shards. They glitter under the light. The mumble of the crowd never stops, there isn’t a single pause in conversation. You are the baby, the least significant one. These politicians, their groups, they don’t see you. They don’t notice you. No one is coming to help you. He doesn’t seem to notice your distress, instead leaning down, face to face with you, watching you avoid his eyes. He rubs your shoulder, explaining that it was an accident, no big deal. With his finger he tips your head up, smile for me, sweetie. You recoil, apologizing, taking what pieces you have, headed towards the kitchen. You’re unsteady on your feet, too tipsy. You drank too much. You curse yourself, trying not to let the tears that welled up in your eyes fall. You weren’t even supposed to be here. You were supposed to be home, safe, far away from him where he could not possibly reach you. But they wanted you here, they needed you here, the biggest night leading up to the election. You could never disappoint them. Never. So you showed up and you drank and now you’re in this mess. You can feel him behind you, like a shadow, close but not close enough. You catch one look behind you, biting back a scream. He shakes hands, introduces himself, cracks jokes, all while moving through the crowd. You are his target, you always have been. 

From the moment he laid eyes on you, you knew it was over. Too late. You were drowning and they were doing nothing to save you. He spoke to you like you were old friends, touchy from your moment of introduction. Y/n Roy, a pleasure to meet you. A kiss on the cheek. His arm snaking around your waist for the family photo. Pleading with your eyes, but no one to see, no one to understand. Your father was more than happy to serve you to him, proud you’d made a connection so quickly. Oblivious to your disgust, to your discomfort, as always. Still, he hadn’t been that proud of you in a long time, perhaps ever. You thought you could keep up the niceties until he lost, then you would rid yourself of him for good. And then your father died. And then Roman made his deal with him. And now? Now you’re leaning over the sink, trying not to throw up, your hands shaking at the thought of him being near you like that again. He got caught in conversation with a lesser political opponent, his eyes never leaving you. Someone had given him your contact information. First an email here and there. A thank you for being so kind to him. A proposition for coffee, then drink. Texts next. Jokes that fell flat. Apologies for your father. More dates, more events, all of them, he’s hoping, you’ll be there. Calls, too. Pictures. So many pictures. Silly ones, then not so funny. If he wasn’t constantly watching, talking, touching, then he was trying to. You never responded, but that didn’t stop him. It would never stop him. 

What were you going to do? 

You clutch the edge of the sink, taking a few deep breaths. As quickly as you can without making yourself even more nauseous, you cut through the pack, headed towards the bathroom. Without meaning to, your barge through your siblings semi-circle conversation. The tears are falling. All of them look up at you, startled, but you slam the door shut before they can ask anything. Shiv knocks softly, saying your name, trying to get you out. Y/n? Y/n what happened? Can you come out and talk to us? Knees to chest you slide down to the floor, drunk, tired, your skin still crawling. Trying to catch your breath. Y/n, come on, come out. Whatever happened, we can fix it. Kendall sounded exhausted. Rightfully so. You stifle a sob, the words coming out before you can stop them. I didn’t mean- I didn’t- I know this is important to you guys. Mencken. He’s important to them, he’s important to your brother, he was to your father. You couldn’t just suck it up for a little while, you had to cry like a child. Who? What are you talking about? It’s Roman now, his voice close to you. He’s not standing like the others, he’s on your level now. You don’t know how to explain it, you can’t. You fear it’ll sound ridiculous. That you’re making a bigger deal about this than necessary. You’re not sure what else to do. You open every tab, every phone call and text thread and email. Then you open the door just a crack, sliding the phone through, shutting it again. There's a moment of silence that feels like eternity. How long has been this going on? Roman sounds angry. At you? A while. It’s all you can manage, curling into a ball, bracing for the worst. For the yelling, the disappointment, for one of them to bang on the door and demand that you come out right now. You wait, and you wait, but it never comes. It never happens. Instead your brother and sister call after Roman, trying to stop him, but he’s seeing red. 

There’s no stopping him. 

It’s quiet for a long time, but you don’t move a muscle. Your nausea has gotten a little better, your head a little clearer. You call for your siblings, but none answer. What were they doing? What were they saying? You can hear muffled yelling through the door, but the words melt together. Tones rise in pitch. The apartment has quieted. Someone laughs, you think it’s Mencken. More quiet. A door slams. You wince. This is all your fault. Whatever they were doing, whatever was going on, it was your fault. It was all your fault. Then a voice, softer now. He’s gone, kid. You can come out. Roman. He didn’t sound angry, but when did that ever stop anyone? Certainly not your father. When you don’t, you hear him groan, getting to the floor. Through the door, you can hear the weight in his voice. I’m not mad at you, I, I could never be mad at you. A pause. You honestly think I would have chosen him over you? You nod before choking up a yes. It’s my fault, you start, but he doesn’t let you finish. It’s not, it never was. He’s a fucking creep y/n, a monster. I’m, I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. He's gone now. He won’t come near you ever again. He’s never been so sure of anything in his life. He would never let fucking Mencken do that to you again. He wouldn’t let anyone do that. He shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place, he’d carry this for the rest of his life. He let you down, your big brother. He let you down for the last time.