#I was in band all four years of high school so naturally I thought of this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lnnlove · 2 years

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leather and lace | e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

summary: your band plays at the hideout on thursdays and you've always competed with eddie munson. when you realize your actual feelings towards him, you start sending messages in the songs you choose to sing and eddie notices. a (fr)enemies to lovers with mutual pining story where the upside down is never mentioned and the only conflict is the one that these two idiots in love create on their own.

word count: 10k

warnings: slight asshole!eddie, general angst, cussing, marijuana use, drinking, reader uses fem pronouns, mentions of harassment, beginnings of smut, if I missed any please let me know!

author's note(s): I did not fact check if all of the songs mentioned were released at the time this would be taking place (I feel like this is '87 or '88 and our boy got to graduate), please don't hate me! this is basically an open love letter to miley cyrus's version of heart of glass (when they sing heart of glass in the story, imagine this version) which obviously was not around then so if you can't ignore a few inaccuracies, don't read. also, i've just decided the fourth member of corroded coffin is named kevin instead "unnamed freak" or "freak 1" as he is referred to on wiki and imdb (😭).

here, have an accompanying playlist bc I love you <3

The Queens of Noise were what you sentimentally named your band after winning the middle school talent show when you sang the song of the same name by The Runaways with your four best friends.

"It's easy to sing the same words over and over again," Eddie Munson said to you backstage after the awards. "You just sang to the recorded song, you didn't even play your own instruments." That was the first thing the older boy ever said to you.

"Whatever Eddie. You're just jealous that we won," you replied to him with squinted eyes and a look that said eat shit Eddie Munson.

"First place doesn't prove anything except that the teachers like you better than us. It doesn't mean you actually have any talent," Eddie sneered, "come on guys, let's go."

Eddie brushed past you to leave the auditorium, jutting his shoulder into yours harshly as he walked past with his band Corroded Coffin following closely behind him, but Gareth actually smiled sweetly at you and your friends and Jeff quietly congratulated his sister standing behind you.

Ever since that day, everything you do is to prove Eddie Munson wrong.

Eddie said it wasn't impressive if you weren't playing your own instruments, so you learned guitar. Sarah switched to keyboard from piano lessons. Jess took up drums and Heather decided on bass. Tiffany (or Tiff as she preferred) got her brother Jeff to teach her guitar and she turned out to be better than you so you became the lead singer. The girls all help you on backup vocals and sometimes Sarah takes the verses of songs that require a more soprano voice, just like Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie the two of you like to joke with each other.

By the end of your freshman year in high school, you and your girls had solidified yourselves as the Queens of Noise and were practicing every other day in Heather's garage (much to her parents' dismay). You all decided to enter the talent show again next year.

You thought Eddie might finally see your group as a proper band according to his standards since your friends would be playing the music for One Way or Another by Blondie while you sang. But all he said to you after the show was "Easy for you to get all the attention when they're stuck with all the hard work," motioning to your friends behind you before brushing passed you to the other guys.

So you decided you could start playing the second guitar part under Tiff on some of your songs.

After you played on stage for the county fair in 1985, The Hawkins Post wanted to write a story about the band. You found out at the after party Tiff was having, so of course naturally Eddie was there with Jeff and the other boys too.

"Remember us when you're famous," Gareth joked and the other boys congratulated you in some way, but Eddie's competitive nature compelled him to say "Of course they want to write about it, all you know how to play is the hippie shit everyone loves."

"Don't talk about Fleetwood Mac like that man," Kevin retorted in your defense.

You dismissed his comment, but decided you could start training your voice to sing more like Joan Jett and Cherie Currie anyway. It had always been obvious to your friends why you made the decisions you did, but they knew better than to bring it up.

You thought he might finally be impressed during your senior year when the Queens of Noise started playing at the Hideout on Thursday nights and you consistently had a bigger crowd than Corroded Coffin did on Tuesdays.

"No surprise that the drunks of Hawkins would rather watch a bunch of girls on stage than listen to real music," Eddie claimed.

He loved to taunt you over the songs you chose to play, insisting that his metalhead preferences were better than the covers you did of Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, The Runaways, Pat Benatar and Blondie.

Although you and Eddie would never call each other a "friend," you were nearly always around each other. You even had to endure two extra years of high school with him because he refused to apply himself to academics. Your bandmates had gotten close over the years, bonding naturally over shared interests and participating in healthy competition any opportunity you got. Eddie had a good relationship with all the girls except you, who appeared to be a perpetual thorn in his side. It was fine because he was the exact same to you.

The other members of your bands could still give their all to the band while supporting and cheering for the other but you and Eddie, both as stubborn as you are, could almost never put the aggression of competition aside.

Jeff and Tiff were close as siblings, Sarah and Gareth finally took their flirtation and secret hookups to the next step and told everyone they were dating in '86, and even Heather, Jess and Kevin were close because they lived in the same neighborhood. All of that was great, except that it meant you had to run in to Eddie all the time at parties, movies, or the other's shows.

"For someone who doesn't like me, it seems like you're one of our biggest fans," he'd mock you when they got off stage.

"I just came to keep Sarah company asshole," you respond with rolled eyes.

"Whatever you say Y/N," he'd joke as he walked away from you.

It seemed like you'd had a version of that conversation after every show you went to.

Just like going to their nights at the Hideout, you'd been roped in to many movie nights at Jeff and Tiff's house before, and stopped being surprised when often times Eddie would join as well. It typically ended with you two in some type of disagreement about the movie being good or not, since Eddie considered himself such a movie critic.

It wasn't always that bad though. Eddie is the type of guy who always noticed when your drink was empty and was quick to get you another. He'd stepped in several times to say "Hey man, she said she's not interested," when drunk assholes harassed one of you at the bar or parties. You noticed he would always seem to stick close by after something like that happened.

"A tad flat tonight babe," Eddie announced to you after forcing the heavy back door of the bar open to join you in the alley after a show one night.

"Not right now Eddie, I'm not in the mood," you attempted to brush him off.

"What's wrong, can't take a little constructive criticism?" he taunted.

You scoffed and turned your back to him, hoping he'd take the hint and leave you alone. But Eddie is not very good at leaving you alone.

He circled around to face you, dropping his head to meet your eyes when he noticed the smudged mascara under your lashes and clear glassiness in your eyes.

"Whoa whoa, what happened?" he said, bringing a hand to your shoulder. But you look away from him, unable to meet the concerned expression on his face.

When you don't answer, he jumped to conclusions.

"Did some asshole say something to you?" he questioned you, "other than me?"

How is it that he can make you laugh at a time like this? As small and delicate as your little laugh was, it shot something much stronger to Eddie's core.

All you could do was nod, feeling silly in his presence for letting something like that get to you. You noticed Eddie's jaw clench when he raised his head and turned it to look behind you toward the door.

"What guy? What's he wearing?" Eddie asked.

You didn't want to answer. You didn't want him to do something irrational or even get hurt because of you.

"No Eddie," you whispered.

"Tell me Y/N," he demanded.

"Okay, he's sitting at the end of the bar wearing a white collared shirt."

You'd barely finished before Eddie tore off in the direction of the bar. You stayed out there another minute or two collecting yourself and wiping your eyes clean of makeup.

To this day you're not certain what happened. But when you got back to the group, the guy at the end of the bar was gone, Eddie had a bag of ice from the bartender on his right hand, and your friends didn't say a word about it.

He punched a guy out once when he came on too strong to Jess after a gig and now you know he'd done the same for you even though the two of you barely ever saw eye to eye.

You found yourself in the smoke circle with Eddie at every party and he'd always let you take the first hit of a bowl. He'd let you bum a cigarette behind the bar or outside of school any time you asked and would light it for you sometimes even though you never once asked him to do that. The groups would get together to go to movies and concerts sometimes, all piling in to Eddie's van and carpooling to the city.

"Ah ah ah, what's she doing here?" Eddie asked, eyes darting to you. He can't resist an opportunity to torment you.

"Come on Eddie, you know Y/N's part of the group just as much as we are," Jess defends.

"I'm the one who told you all about this concert in the first place, Munson!" you argue.

"Can't you two please behave just for one night?" Gareth asks from his spot behind Sarah, head hanging over her shoulder. She nods in agreement.

You and Eddie hold eye contact for a few moments, considering all of your options.

"I will if he does," you bite as everyone begins to pile into the van.

The groups' eyes trail to where Eddie towers over you, watching from their seats in the back of the van.

"Fine," he answers, "after you," motioning for you to take a seat inside so he can close the back door. You move to climb in and can't help but gasp silently when you feel his hand under yours gently squeeze to help lift you into the van. But when you look back to him once you're seated, he's already slamming the door shut and turning his back to you to walk around to the driver's seat.

He left you alone the rest of the night, but there were a couple of times you shared quick glances from where you danced with the girls and he was standing behind the group nodding along to the music. You almost thought you could even make out a smile on his lips. But that was wiped from your memory the second he looked away from you and back to the stage.

Sometimes you could swear you caught him looking at you across the room with a look that wasn't hateful. Sometimes he even did things that sent a jolt of warmth to your stomach. But that was quickly diminished every time when Eddie would return his attention to another girl or say something that reminded you of his disdain for you. You tried so hard to ignore the pangs of jealousy when you saw him with someone under his arm or the flutters in your stomach when he held eye contact with you. All of it just added to your confusion and the frustration you felt towards him grew with every broken gaze.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

That brings you to tonight, Thursday at The Hideout. It's 7:45 and you're getting ready for your weekly show at 8:00. The stage is all set and you're backstage with your girls, putting final touches on makeup and warming up for the performance.

"Shit," you hear Tiff utter under her breath after a snap echoes through the small green room.

"What's wrong Tiff?" Heather asks from her place on the couch.

"My string broke," she announces, stress lacing her voice.

"Shit," the other girls repeat.

"I don't have any extras," Tiff says anxiously.

"Okay, okay, don't panic. I'll be right back," you announce on your way out of the door. You know Eddie's here and maybe he has some extras. You'll just be a little late on stage.

You make your way from the green room behind the stage, into the office and then out to the bar where Eddie is occupying a seat talking to the bartender.

"Eddie," you call out nervously as you approach him.

"Y/N," he returns tensely.

"Do you have any extra guitar strings with you?"

"Other than the ones that are strung to my electric, no. Sorry sweetheart."

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath, secretly shuttering at the nickname but turning away from him and leaning your elbows on the bar, attempting to come up with another solution.

Eddie eyes your slumped figure and brows that are furrowed in contemplation.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"Tiff's string broke and we're obviously supposed to be playing in a few," you motion to the stage.

"Ah, that is quite the pickle you're in," he teases you, his mind calculating what you'll ask him next.

You think of something and sigh, closing your eyes and bracing yourself for what you're about to ask.

"Eddie...." you begin.

"Yes dear?" he mocks.

"Can we borrow your electric guitar? Pretty please," you utter with monotone.

Eddie exhales, puffing his lips and eyeing you sarcastically.

"That's a pretty big favor to ask without a cherry on top," he jokes. "Ask me again like you mean it." He says with squinted eyes examining you. He loves having power over you, there's no way he'll relent this easy. He'll make you beg a little first because he's reveling in the pouty expression on your face right now.

"Eddie please," you swallow your pride and begin, "if you care about me in any way at all, can I pretty please with a cherry on top borrow your guitar that I know is in the back of your van right now anyway?"

He fake considers for a moment, prolonging your torture.

“And what makes you think I care about you?” he asks, seriously.

“You're right, nothing. I wouldn't dream of you having any type goodwill towards me," he smiles at your response, quite satisfied with it. "But if you like me even just a little. I mean, not like me. but if you think I deserve any amount of kindness - "

"What'll you give me if I do?" he interrupts.

"Anything!" you shout impulsively, "Anything you want." You regret that instantly while considering all of the things he could ask of you.

"Jesus Christ babe, yes if you're that desperate, you can borrow my guitar."

You sigh, relieved, trying to ignore the twisting feeling the pet name causes inside you. Eddie stands from his seat and moves past you to the door to go retrieve the guitar from his van.

You stand, slightly in place as you awe at the fact that you just successfully asked Eddie Munson for a favor, and he said yes.

"You okay in there there?" he asks from his place a few feet away from you, interrupting your thought and grabbing your attention with a small wave in front of your face.

"Yes, Munson, I'm fine," snapping back to your normal self and rolling your eyes at him.

Eddie smirks, he secretly loves when you call him that.

“Good. For a second there I thought you might be in love with me or something," he jokes before turning around to make his way out of the door.

You curse yourself for not being able to think of a witty response and wait by the bar for the few minutes it takes him to return.

He hands you the guitar. "If you return her with even a scratch - "

"I know I know, you'll have my head," you interrupt jokingly, as you grab the instrument from him and turn hurriedly to leave for the girls backstage, not thinking of the many ways he could interpret that.

You return his guitar the same night with no mention of what he wants for his payment. He'd briefly considered asking for a kiss just to torture you, but quickly decided against that thinking it would be too much like the creeps who hit on you girls at the bar all the time. Eddie was not actually interested in coercing you into anything.

So Eddie decided to drop it, not wanting to hold anything over your head or make you feel like you owe him anything.

But a few days later, he opened his van door to find the new Dio and Judas Priest tapes he'd been wanting from the music store but hadn't bought yet with a note that simply said "thank you," in your scribbly writing that he recognized from class. You'd noticed him eyeing those tapes during your shift at the store and thought two tapes with your employee discount was the least you could do to thank him for saving your show.

Eddie smiles to himself at the thought of you doing something nice for him, even going as far as breaking in to his van to keep it a surprise. He chuckles to himself, thinking how out of character it was for you to do something sweet for him. Maybe, he thought, she feels the same. But he dismisses the thought as soon as it enters his mind. No, we're just even now. Nothing's changed, returning to his normal train of thought and strengthening his resolve to continue treating you as he always has.

Neither one of you ever bring it up again, but you have hope that maybe things are different between you now.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

The following Saturday was special because the band that was scheduled to play at The Hideout canceled and Sarah and Gareth convinced the owner to let Corroded Coffin and The Queens of Noise play back to back to fill in.

It was a big deal for both groups. You'd been playing Tuesdays and Thursdays for years, but a Saturday is different. Saturdays are for big groups, sometimes even from other cities. There's always a bigger crowd and one of the bands who used to play on Saturdays at The Hideout are on a small nationwide tour now.

Best of all, you'd be able to be there for each other's big moments front and center on the floor while the other group played on stage.

You and the girls practiced every day after work in preparation and even agreed to skip work the Friday before to finalize the details and make sure everything was clean and perfect. You all agreed on your strongest songs and put together a set you were really proud of. You were even going to debut a Blondie song that you've put your own spin on to see how the crowd likes it.

On Saturday, you and the others all arrived in the afternoon to begin setting up and warming up. You shared the green room backstage and it felt like any other night you all got together at Jeff and Tiff's. Gareth and Sarah were draped over each other on the couch, Jeff was playing some card game with Kevin and Heather, Tiff was tuning her guitar in the corner with Eddie who was strumming along to something, and you were sat at the vanity with Jess, sharing a joint for your nerves and deciding when to start your makeup and hair.

"Let me get a hit of that please," Tiff requests and so you bring the joint to her in the corner, holding it to her lips. After she takes a drag, you offer it to Eddie and he accepts quietly with a raise of his eyebrows. You let him keep it because you figure he'll want more than just on hit.

The boys were scheduled to start at 8:00 and then you would follow them at 9:00.

It was 7:00 when you broke the silent calm that had fallen over the room.

"Shouldn't we do a toast or something?" you suggest, "I mean this is kind of a huge fucking deal." You can't help the nervous laugh that falls from your lips after the realization hits you.

"We should," Jeff agrees, "we're playing a FUCKING SATURDAY SHOW!"

The group erupts in shouts, hollering cheers and praise for the situation you've found yourselves in.

"Okay then let's circle up," Sarah says as she jumps off the couch, pulling her arms around the two standing closest to her.

The nine of you circle up in the middle of the room, wrapping arms around each other and huddling together. Eddie stands across from you, gazing down at your excitement as he pops the cork out of the complimentary bottle of champagne left for your group and spraying the foam over all of you in the center of the circle.

"We all drink," he declares, pulling the bottle to his lips and taking a long pull of the lukewarm wine before dropping his head back down and returning his gaze to you.

He extends his arm, handing you the bottle. You accept it with an appreciative smile and take your pull.

"To...." Eddie begins, unsure of how to make a toast. "To us!" he shouts when you take your drink.

"To us!" the others chant in chorus.

"To us," you say when you finish your sip and pass the bottle to Gareth on your right.

Everyone passed the the bottle until it was empty, and then it was time for the boys to go on stage.

While the boys played, you and the girls were front and center to the stage moving to the music with each other and getting the crowd excited. You usually sang along but tonight you were trying to resist the urge so you could save your voice. Their music buzzed through the amps and speakers plugged in around them, vibrating in your chest. You danced and swayed with your friends to get yourself warmed up for your show.

The stage at The Hideout is just a platform that's elevated about three feet. If you're standing at the front of the crowd, you're still close enough in height to whoever's on stage that you can interact, something you've taken advantage of many times in the past while on stage and in the crowd.

From your angle below, the boys were backlit by the stage lights and covered in a warm halo that illuminated their forms. You couldn't deny how beautiful Eddie looked on stage. A natural performer, a personality that shined up there. You secretly ached at the thought that he seemed sweet and flirty with everyone but you.

The boys were great during their set. Of course they always were. But you enjoyed tonight more than any other night because it felt like they all were glad that you were there. There was such little animosity coming from Eddie that you almost thought he wanted you to be there instead of just accepting your presence. You even caught his glance a few times from your place below them.

During their last song, you had to leave the crowd and get backstage to take their place, but you were able to see the last song from the side stage. Gareth and Jess and agreed to use the same drum set, so all you had to do was walk out with your instruments, get Sarah's keyboard, and adjust the mics to be ready.

Suddenly you were wracked with nerves.

After their last song, you all cheered and whistled at the top of your lungs from the side stage so they could hear you over the rest of the crowd. You saw Gareth blow a kiss to Sarah and a blush creep up Kevin's neck.

"Thank you," you hear Eddie on the mic. "We are Corroded Coffin." Another cheer from the crowd. "Now please welcome our Queens of Noise."

Our Queens of Noise.

The possession in Eddie's words rung in your ears and froze you in place.

The boys were approaching you as they exited the stage. Kevin patted Heather's back in encouragement, Jeff hugged Tiff off the ground and told her to get out there, Gareth did his handshake with Jess before twirling Sarah off the ground and setting her down with a kiss.

Eddie spun Heather around and then moved toward you. He was glistening with a thin layer of sweat and his smile was contagious. His chest was heaving with breath and his delicious musky smell surrounded you as he casually enveloped your head in one of his arms and whispered "your turn" against the top of your head. Then you felt him release your head and his other hand on the small of your back nudged you forward. He was so relaxed, as if this was not the first time he's ever embraced you.

Yeah, things were definitely different now.

You took a step forward and shook off the surprise that had overcome you.

You were on fire during your set. You could feel your diaphragm tighten in your stomach as your sang deep, bellowing notes. In between your verses or the chorus, you'd dance back to back with Heather or Tiff, twirl and sway in the middle of the stage, shimmy to Jess in the back on drums and blow kisses to Sarah at her place on keys. Your stage presence was something you were proud of.

You noticed the boys squeeze their way to the front of the stage with their drinks during the third song, all nodding along and praising you all in their own boyish way. You think this is probably the closest Eddie's ever watched one of your gigs, and try to act unfazed by his closeness.

The last song of the set was your new one. You'd only sang it in rehearsal. Never in front of a crowd and never in front of Eddie.

You took a few deep steadying breaths before nodding at Tiff to begin her riff. You nodded along to the beat from her, Heather and Jess, closed your eyes and took a breath before singing the first line.

Once had love and it was a gas. It soon turned out, I had a heart of glass.

The crowd responded well, singing along and screaming for you.

You heard a loud whoop from Jeff with hands cuffed around his mouth and even a shout from Eddie.

During the break when Sarah took over with a keyboard solo, you take a moment to breathe and dance to the music from your friends around you. Below you, the boys were passing out shots and you notice Eddie raising one above his head, intended for you.

You squat to his level to accept it, offering him a quick clink as a cheers before standing, knocking back the shot, and jumping back in for the rest of the song.

Eddie thinks it might be the hottest thing he's ever seen. He swallows a gulp that rose in his chest and exhales deeply.

The crowd erupts into a chorus of cheers and praise on your last note and you inhale sharply to regain your breath. You smile into the mic and say thank you to the people in front of you. You gather with the other girls in the middle of the stage and bow while they cheer for you before turning to exit the stage.

Eddie calls your name from where he's standing by the corner of the stage as you walked down the stairs on the side.

You walk over to him, your heart pounding from the adrenaline in your system from the show and also from the look Eddie was giving you. He looked so good standing there with the stage light behind him and rush from their set still evident in his eyes. Maybe this is it, you think.

He exhales as you approach him like he had been holding his breath.

"That was great," he admits, his eyes taking in your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths and your post-stage glow.

"Yeah right Eddie," you scoff, rolling your eyes and turning away from him towards the bar. You're so used to his insults that you can't even register him being sincere.

He catches your wrist and spins you back toward him. You collide with him, bringing your free hand to his chest to steady yourself and look down to where he is holding your wrist between your bodies.

"I'm serious," he breathes, eyes trained down at where you stand pressed against him.

He towers over you with a look in his eyes that you don't recognize. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can't think of what to say.

"You were amazing up there tonight," he continues, "I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

Your lips part at his words and your insides twist. Every thought has left your brain as you stare up at him. His eyes are so inviting that it makes you forget all the things you'd planned to say to him for years when he finally admitted that you impressed him. Your gaze falls to his lips just for a second and you allow yourself a selfish moment to indulge as you imagine what he would taste like if you leaned in and just kissed him right now.

Your fallen eyes don't go unnoticed by Eddie.

Eddie begins to dip his lower to you when you're interrupted.

"Y/N, come on, the boys are buying us a round," Sarah says from behind you before crashing clumsily into your back, placing her arms on your waist and peeking around your shoulder to kiss your cheek, completely missing Eddie's expression and the moment that was unfolding in front of her.

She pulls you back and your wrist is freed from Eddie's grasp but you don't break your eye contact with him until she spins you around to face Heather, Tiff, and Jess who came along to collect you.

"What was that about?" Heather whispers in your ear as you're pulled into the group's embrace.

"I don't know," you whisper in response. But you think you might.

"He looked like he was going to eat you up," Tiff jokes, well aware of the implications in her tone.

You secretly wished he would. But you swallowed that feeling into your stomach, convincing yourself that there was no way he felt that way about you.

The girls giggle around you as they make their way to the bar to celebrate. You accepted drink after drink handed to you that night, but you weren't able to fully celebrate. Not when Eddie didn't follow you back to the group. Not when Eddie had looked at you that way. Not when you weren't sure what you were feeling in your stomach. Not when you could be putting yourself in the most vulnerable place you've been in in years. And especially not when you could be exposing yourself to someone who you're certain couldn't return the feelings you're having.

You didn't see much of Eddie after that Saturday at The Hideout. You went to your job at the music store every day thinking he may turn up, but he never did. He gave you the cold shoulder on his way out of the door when you tried to say something to him at their show on Tuesday and he wasn't at yours that Thursday. Avoiding you, you thought to yourself and tried to swallow the feeling that it elicited from your gut. Of course he was. How could you have been so stupid to hope something was there?

What you didn't know is that Eddie was hiding from you, worried that he'd revealed too much to you that night at The Hideout. Part of him wanted to reveal more to you. But he wasn't even sure himself what he felt for you. So until he figured it out, he was doing the safe thing and staying away from you. Except this coming Thursday because he agreed to cover for the bartender at the bar, so there's no way he could skip your show.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

You went back and forth between being certain the way he'd looked at you after the show was out of desire and thinking the way he was holding your wrist firmly was out of hating having to admit that you put on a good show. But either way, the taste you'd had having of him close to you was not enough.

So when Sarah told you at Sunday's practice in Heather's garage that the boys would definitely be at your show on Thursday, you couldn't help but ask "all of them?" sheepishly.

"I think so, why?" she asks, giving you a probing smile with raised eyebrows.

"No reason," you shrug off. "Think you ladies would be up to learning a new song for Thursday?"

They agree, exchanging knowing glances to each other as they took their places.

On Thursday, you arrived through the back of the bar so you didn't see Eddie until you were on stage. You could feel his eyes on you from his spot behind the bar but you refused to lift your gaze to him. He'd been giving you the cold shoulder for over a week and two could play at that game. Besides, your song choices for the night were bold and you thought you might chicken out if you saw anything in his eyes that changed your mind.

You sang I Hate Myself for Loving You and it meant more to you tonight than it ever had before. Your past relationships and meaningless hookups never once crossed your mind when that song came on, but one stupid tall metalhead with stupid brown button eyes and stupid long hair that you want to run your fingers through flashes through your mind every time you've heard it for weeks now.

Jess started playing the beat for your last song and you took a deep breath as you closed your eyes and felt the music surround you. Tiff came in on guitar while Heather and Sarah kept a steady bass line that you're certain was the only thing keeping your heartbeat regular.

We've been here too long, tryin' to get along. Pretending that you're oh so shy, you begin to sing.

You glanced at Eddie behind the bar who was watching you. You wondered if he recognized it yet and if his heart was racing like yours was at the sight of him.

Do you wanna touch, Do you wanna touch, Do you wanna touch me there? Where? There. Yeah! Yeah, oh yeah.

You have to hold the mic with both hands and screw your eyes shut to will yourself to finish the song without looking in Eddie's direction again. When you were done, you said "that's all for tonight, thank you" to your crowd and you quickly exited the stage.

While the other girls went the bar immediately for the post-show shot tradition, you took the opportunity to sneak out back for a quick cigarette, desperate for a moment alone to catch your breath before facing Eddie.

But of course he doesn't allow you that favor.

Eddie watched your attempt at a sneaky escape and followed you out after pouring the other girls their shots on the house and making sure there was no one else at the bar for drinks.

You were standing to the right of the door with your back to the wall when he came out, you had a joint hanging loosely from your lips while you clumsily searched in your pockets for a lighter. You'd realized in seconds that you didn't have one, but you were still using that as your excuse not to look up at him.

Eddie reached his arm to you with his lit zippo, raising it to your lips. You leaned in with your hands cupping the end of the joint, allowing the flame to light it and take a deep hit immediately.

You finally lift your eyes to meet Eddie's. He's staring hot daggers in to you. You swallow the feeling growing in your throat, becoming acutely aware that neither of you have said anything yet.

"You sing that just for me?" Eddie asks, taking a dangerous step closer to you.

"What?"

Eddie tilts his head in frustration, squinting his eyes at you. Annoyed, he snatches the joint from in between your lips and tosses it to the ground, ashing it with his toe. He can't believe the capacity you have to bother him.

"You heard me," he says, bending at his hips so he's eye to eye with you, lifting his hands to either side of your face and caging you into the wall.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your insides twist into a knot and your legs feel like they're melting. He hovers above you, your lips only parted by a few inches. His face is tilted towards you and he's drinking you in, reveling in the way your eyes fluttered shut and your chest began to heave.

"I," you whisper unsurely. "Yes, I did."

"And yes I do," Eddie breathes before moving forward, admitting the answer to the question you were asking with your song and crashing into your lips.

He brings his left hand to cradle your cheek and uses his right to grab your waist and pin you to the wall. You ball his shirt in your fists to pull him flush against you before reaching your arms to rest on his shoulders and wrap around him, sending one hand to the nape of his neck and feeling his hair between your fingers.

"God, I hate you," you whimper as Eddie breaks from your lips to suck sloppy kisses into your neck.

"No you don't," he murmurs with confidence just below your ear before returning to your lips.

"No I don't," you repeat into his lips.

You part your lips for him, allowing Eddie to slip his tongue inside. "You drive me fucking crazy Y/N," he utters into your mouth and you mewl in response.

His tongue moves smoothly with yours and he tastes like the shot of whiskey that he took just before following you out here. He was warm against you, both your chests breathing heavily between you. Eddie trails his hands all over your body in exploration. You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat with how hard it was fluttering against your ribcage.

You realized what you felt pushing against your stomach is his hardened cock swollen against his jeans and you moan into his mouth, clenching your thighs together at the thought of him filling you up and becoming aware of the wetness pooling between your legs.

The noise drives Eddie wild. He reaches down, sweeping his large hand down your waist, over your hip and to the back of your thigh. He grips the dough of your thigh and hikes it up, hooking it around his middle and lining your warm center up with his throbbing erection. You gasp at the sudden friction you didn't realize you were aching for. It's just a taste of what he could give you. You feel his lips pull into a smile against yours, knowing the effect he's having on you. You consider giving in to him, right here.

Your mind races with possibilities.

Have I felt this way all along? Has he?

Is this how it will be from now on? Does he want that too?

What if he doesn't? He definitely doesn't. He doesn't know how much it would mean to you.

What if it's just this one time? You'd never survive that.

"Wait," you say, breaking your kiss and catching your breath. Eddie rests his forehead against yours, ready to jump back in whenever you're ready. "I can't."

"Why not baby?" he whispers against your lips, hot breath fanning over you.

Baby. It sends a fluttering to your stomach. Your heart aches. You want him.

"I'm scared Eddie." Your eyes are closed.

"Scared of me?" He pulls away and straightens in front of you.

"No," you open your eyes to see the pained expression that paints his face. You want to kiss it off. You bring your hand to cup his cheek and he leans in to it. "I'm just really scared of getting hurt," you feebly admit. Eddie is silent for a moment. You pull your hand from his cheek and hug it to your middle. His silence scares you and he stays silent for just a second too long. You turn to the direction of the parking lot and take one step, then another.

"No I would never - " he tries to assure you but he was a second too late. You're already walking away from him.

When Eddie returned inside without you, he was met with the barrage of worried faces of his friends.

"Where's Y/N?" Jess asked, stating the thing that was obviously on everyone's mind from the kissed out look of Eddie's lips that were swollen and stained slightly with the color you'd been wearing.

"She uh..." Eddie trailed off with his face turned to the side, unable to meet the concerned looks in their eyes. "She left."

A choir of questions sprang from their mouths.

"She left?" Heather asked quietly, dread tugging in her stomach knowing something must have happened.

"What did you do to her man?" Jeff asked at the same time.

But Eddie didn't answer. He knocked back a shot from the bar and walked away from the group, the sting of rejection still too fresh inside him to discuss it any further with the group while he was fighting the negative feels rising in his gut.

The group watched as he approached a table of girls across the room, and couldn't help the groans that they sighed out in unison with rolled eyes, realizing how completely unprepared they were for the fallout that was sure to follow Eddie's agonizing attempt to nurse his ego.

You drove home in tears, shaking from the sudden absence of Eddie you felt and sickness churning your stomach as you played the events back in your head. The shock eventually wore off and your tears slowed to a stop, but the nausea remained until you fell asleep that night, unsure if you did the right thing or made the biggest mistake of your life.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

You called out of work the next day, allowing yourself one day to wallow in self pity since you were now leaning more towards thinking you made a huge mistake. It seemed like your lips still tingled from the pressure of his kiss, your body felt hollow without his touch and you longed to feel it again. Your heart ached every time your mind betrayed you and flashed the memory of his wounded expression through your mind.

It wasn't until Saturday morning that the girls showed up to your house, forcing themselves in to confront your sullen state. You were asleep when they opened your door.

Heather climbed into bed beside you and mirrored your position on your side, bringing her forehead to yours and tracing a soft finger down your nose to wake you up.

Jess sat at the edge of your bed with a caring hand placed on your exposed calf and Sarah hovered behind her with her head hung over Jess's shoulder.

You took count of your friends as your blurry vision cleared before realizing one was missing, rolling over on your back to see Tiff with her head hung low to meet your eyes and hands on her hip. "Good morning," she greeted briefly, "now spill."

You sat up a scooted closer to Heather, making room for Tiff to slide into bed on your other side. Sarah and Jess sat at the foot of your bed, crossed legged and facing you, both clutching one of your excess pillows for comfort.

It feels like you've been in a variation of this arrangement a hundred times before, either cuddling or being cuddled by your girls while you or the other works out their problem. It feels the same as it has since you were little girls. Like nothing has changed in the decade you've all been taking turns crowding into each others rooms, only this time something has changed. Something huge.

You don't hate Eddie Munson at all. You love him.

You were afraid that he wouldn't feel the same, that he'd only planned to be with you once and things we be the same between you after.

But now you were more afraid of never having him at all.

When the girls left, you decided you'd suppress your fear and just call him. But when you heard to the dial tone for the eighth time, you hung up with a huff and looked up to your ceiling to choke back the tears that threatened to fall.

On Monday, you knew that he'd be at Gareth's for their practice. Sarah gave you the number for his garage phone and when you called, Gareth answered.

"Hello?" Gareth asked on the other end, kindness always evident in his voice.

"Gareth hey, it's Y/N."

"Y/N?" he asked, thoroughly surprised.

"Yeah," you said with your eyes screwed shut, "listen, is Eddie there?"

"Eddie?" Gareth asks, and you can hear him shift on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah," you say, embarrassed while you wait.

You hear unclear whispering in the receiver, mumbling from definitely more than one person.

"Um, sorry Y/N," Gareth returns, his voice dripping with uncertainty, "he's not here."

You gulp down the lump in your throat, knowing there's no way he's not there.

"Okay," you sigh, defeated. "Would you just let him know I called?"

"Yeah, I'll tell him you called."

"Thanks Gareth." And you hang up.

You thought about going to their show Tuesday, but the dread that filled you when the time came was enough to keep you away. If he was avoiding you, you didn't want to make it worse by forcing him to see you. Not yet.

So on the next Saturday when you saw Eddie passing in front of the music store window during your shift to get to Family Video next door, you blinked first to make sure you weren't imaging it. But before you could understand it, your legs seemed to be carrying you towards him while your brain was yelling at you to turn around.

You ran quickly from behind the counter, leaving customers alone in the store and you threw open the door, flying out of it and running after him before he could get inside the other store.

"Eddie!" you shout at his back.

He pauses, shoulders tense in his leather jacket as he stands up straight. He hesitates for a few seconds, making you afraid that he won't turn around at all.

But he does. And the stony look on his face makes you wish he hadn't. His brows are knitted together in a furrow and his lips are pushed together in a tight line.

"What do you want?" Eddie says, so calm that it unnerves you.

When you don't answer right away, he shakes his head slightly and sticks a hand out like you're inconveniencing him.

"Something you want to say?" he asks, his eyes staring at you, annoyed by your silence.

"Yeah, I.." you choke on your words.

"You what Y/N?" Eddie scolds, his eyes squinted at you the way they used to when he looked at you. Before. "Your stash running low? Need to buy an ounce? Someone's instrument is broken and you need to borrow one? Your car's not starting and I need to fix it?" His tone is getting more and more exasperated.

You can't form any words. All you can do is stand there and accept him berating you. His words hurt and your lower lip begins to tremble.

"Because unless it's one of those things, I don't know what you could possibly be talking to me for."

When Eddie finishes, he turns and walks away. You exhale and a tear spills over your eyelashes and down your cheek.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

"He hates me," you say on the phone to Sarah when you get back behind the counter at work.

"I don't know, Y/N I think maybe he's just hurt you know?" Sarah attempts to soothe.

You disagree.

"Listen Y/N," you hear Gareth say distantly in the receiver before a shuffle on the other end. "I've known Eddie a long time okay?" His voice becomes more clear. "And he's not very good at this kind of thing. He'd much rather avoid his problems than deal with them and right now that's you."

"Oh thanks a lot Gareth, I feel so much better," you joke.

"Not his problem," he says. "I mean... the problem is he feels rejected, like you don't feel the same about him."

You heart drops.

"What do you mean the same about him?" you scream.

"Shit," Gareth curses under his breath, "I've said too much."

"You're gonna have to say a little more," you threaten.

"Well, we all know it, Y/N" Gareth explains, "he's always teased you and stuff because he loves to get a rise out of you. I can tell he has feelings for you. The whole hating you thing was always an act because he got off on the wrong foot when we were kids and he kept it up because didn't know what else to do."

You can't believe what you're hearing. His words ring in your ears like a squealing amp and your breathing picks up.

"Oh my god," you whisper, dropping the phone while you try to grasp what Gareth has just told you.

"Gareth, why the hell have you never told me that?" you faintly hear Sarah reprimand him on the other end of the phone.

"Um, okay okay," you catch back up, "Gareth can you please just make sure he comes to our set on Thursday?"

"I don't know, it'll be really hard to convince him."

"Just do it!" you and Sarah yell in unison before you slam the receiver down.

You know what you have to do. You lost your words when you tried to talk to him so you just have to find someone who's already written the words for you.

✽✧✽✧✽✧✽

When Thursday came, you were hopeful things might work out. You took deep breaths in the mirror as you got dressed for your show at The Hideout. You were sure of your feelings now and you'd make Eddie see, one way or another.

Gareth came to you and Sarah on Monday to say that there was no way in hell he could get Eddie to the entire show on Thursday, so you devised a plan to get him there in time for the last two songs. So you knew you had to make the last two count.

You'd felt like you were floating through the entire day, like a puppet going through the steps of a routine, legs carrying you places without you thinking about it.

So when you found yourself in the green room before your set, the gravity of the situation finally started to set in as time inched closer and closer. Your stomach twisted into knots and your mouth went dry.

The girls noticed the shift in your spirit immediately and came to you with hugs and enough encouragement that your doubt was replaced again and you felt good enough to take the stage.

Your set went by in what felt like just a few minutes. You had your normal crowd at the tables and some in the standing space in front of the stage, including the three attending boys of Corroded Coffin. You silently wished time to slow down, you were so nervous for what was coming. So when you were playing your fifth song, Sarah nodded to Gareth who snuck away to the phone.

He dialed Eddie's number from memory and waited eagerly for an answer.

"Hello?" his friend answered. Gareth let out a sigh of relief.

"Hey man," Gareth began, "Do you think you could come get me and the boys? Jeff's car isn't starting."

"Uh yeah I guess, where are you?" It was a dumb question. He knew where they were.

"The Hideout," Gareth said with eyes closed and teeth gritted in suspense as he waited for Eddie's answer.

"Shit, it's Thursday isn't it?" Eddie cursed into the receiver.

"Yeah man, but they're almost done with the set so you don't have to stay or anything. And we'll wait outside for you," Gareth lied. He was trying to time it perfectly for Eddie to arrive for the last two songs and have to come inside when they weren't waiting outside for him.

"Alright alright, I'm leaving now."

"Thanks man, see you in a few," Gareth silently celebrated in place as he hung up the phone and made his way back to his friends for the last of your set.

It was almost perfect. You looked around the room but didn't see Eddie when Jess tapped the count off for Heaven Is a Place on Earth with her sticks and you had to start singing the first chorus. You try to ignore the worry that he won't come growing inside you and sing the song, closing your eyes for the first verse.

When the night falls down I wait for you, and you come around.

When you finished the first verse, you opened your eyes and see him. He was standing at the very back of the room with his back against the wall. It looked like he had just walked into the door and he wasn't planning on coming any closer. He kept his lips pulled together in a tight line, his head head slouching against the wall and he looked at you through hooded eyes.

You smiled as you continued the song, happy that your plan had worked. You couldn't help yourself and met his gaze as you sang baby, I was afraid before but I'm not afraid anymore, hoping he understood to true meaning behind the lyrics.

When the song ended, Gareth followed your gaze and saw Eddie standing at the back of the room. Eddie met his eyes and gestures for him to get the others and leave. Gareth is shaking his head rapidly at Eddie, refusing to leave. You knew you had to act fast.

You cleared your throat into the mic. Eddie stops motioning to Gareth and his attention snaps back to you.

"We have one more for you tonight, and it's new for us but I'm sure you'll recognize it." You pause for a few cheers from the audience. "It's um... for someone special who made it tonight," you murmur into the mic. "I hope they know who they are." The room falls mostly silent, spare a few whispers you can hear among the crowd.

"I think maybe a few of you do," you joke into the mic, hearing comfortable laughter fill the room. And with that, you nod at Tiff to begin the music.

There's a few seconds of music before you have to come in with lyrics, so you use them to take deep breaths and when you glance at Eddie, you notice he's already moved a little closer. There's no going back now, you think. So you close your eyes and start singing.

Tonight, I want to give it all to you. In the darkness, there's so much I want to do. And tonight, I want to lay it at your feet. 'Cause boy, I was made for you and boy, you were made for me.

You looked up to see that Eddie has moved to his friends and he's watching you. His expression has slightly softened and you think you can maybe even see a grin painting his face in the dim light.

I was made for lovin' you, baby. You were made for lovin' me. And I can't get enough of you, baby. Can you get enough of me?

You sing directly to him, holding his gaze that's he's trying to intimidate you with. He won't win because you're not scared anymore. He's the first to break your eye contact, turning his head when Jeff nudges him and he begins nodding along with his friends.

Tonight, I want to see it in your eyes, feel the magic, there's something that drives me wild. And tonight, we're gonna make it all come true. 'Cause boy, you were made for me and boy, I was made for you.

You continued singing, moving your body to the music on stage for him, but your eyes never wandered far from where he stood in front of you.

Eddie exhaled the breath he was holding in, giving in to his weakness for you as he watched your electricity on stage. Someone passed him a shot. He downed it without even stopping to ask what it was, smiling at the stranger and thanking them. He needed it for his nerves. He was not sure what he was going to do when you finished singing.

I was made for lovin' you, baby. You were made for lovin' me And I can give it all to you, baby. Can you give it all to me?

You draw out your last note slightly, and breathe deep with a heaving chest when your song ends. You smile at the applause, lower your head back to the clapping crowd and see Eddie weaving his way through the people to the front of the crowd at the stage, to you.

Your heart thumps at the sight of him coming towards you. Just as he approaches the stage, you bend at your knees and come down closer to his level. You're hovering just inches above him at this height, his head is turned up only slightly to meet your eyes.

Neither of you say anything as the crowded room is cheering around you. Eddie stares at you from his place beneath you and the heat flushes you, pink rising from your chest and into your neck.

Almost instinctively, Eddie surges forward and you meet him without second thought, bringing your empty hands to either side of his face.

You kiss him with desperation, as if you could kiss away the agony of the last week, as if you didn't kiss him like this he would disappear from in front of you forever, like this is your last chance.

The crowd erupts around you, cheers and shouting and applause filling the room. It causes you both to break your kiss because of the huge smile that spreads on both your faces.

"You sing that just for me?" Eddie breathes against you.

"Yes."

"You mean it?" he asks in disbelief.

"Every word," you promise, planting a sweet kiss to his lips as his insides burn up with your love.

Then you feel his hands reach up and grab your ribs. He applies the slightest pressure, telling you to jump, that he'll catch you. And he does. You wrap both arms around his neck and Eddie pulls you off the stage effortlessly. He lowers you with firm hands on your ribcage to straddle your legs around his tall frame and keep your lips trained on him the entire time.

"Yeah you're welcome!" Jeff shouts.

"See you later then? We'll just pack up here!" Jess yells from stage with sarcasm.

"It's about fucking time!"

The whistling and catcalling you hear behind you grow more and more distant as Eddie walks you to the closest door, unwilling to waste another second without his hands all over you. You lift one hand from its place on his back to give them all the bird.

You can thank them later.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things 4 #Spotify #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fics #eddie munson imagines #stranger things eddie

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onlytibki · 11 months

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Straw Hat modern!AU v.1: Jobs and Random Bits of non-plot Headcanons

Yes I know Oda already gave a list and far be it from me to disagree with canon (/s) but hear me out

Jimbei - full-time activist, former soldier/bodyguard. Lorge. Still does work as a bouncer from time to time, this is how he meets Luffy.

(Does karate at the national level. Works out at Zoro's gym, teaches classes sometimes.)

Brook - musician, naturally. Classically trained, accidentally achieved popular fame after the band he was in with his old buddies for fun was scouted out. Lost his bandmates. :( Was depressed for years and just tuned pianos and guitars and other instruments until the Straw Hats brought joy to his life again.

Franky - freelance handyman. Is an engineer, has a engineering degree and certification, but no firm will hire him because he refuses to wear formal clothes (main client is the local university, they asked him only to work at night to avoid students and claims plausible deniability if he chooses not to wear shoes on his own job sites) but he doesn't mind his lot in life because fuck 'em anyway also because trauma and also he's in love with one of the profs

Robin - university professor, teaches history/linguistics/historical linguistics/archaeology. Has like four PhDs. Was wrapped up in some shadiness in Central America while a grad student, but does such high-quality work and is in love with her building's handyman that no one tries to get her in trouble for it

(Robin and Franky meet and bond over keeping the fucking ancient anthropology building both up to livable standards and eligible for the national heritage register. They talk A Lot about historical building materials and methods)

((Note I said 'up to livable standards' and not 'up to code'. Franky's nickname is short for 'Frankenstein' for what he's done to the building's wiring, though somehow it still works))

Chopper - third year med student at 15. Already accepted into the residency program Law is an attending at. Also, he has his driver's license now!! He's the DD for the Straw Hat crew when they go out to bars, and is also self-appointed booze coordinator and hits the brakes for people when he senses alcohol poisoning coming on. Not even Whitebeard Himself can argue when little Dr. Tony gives his super-serious little disapproving pout.

(No, a 15yo cannot legally drive at night, much less operate a car full of drunkards. No one tells him this because he takes the responsibility for the well-being of his friends so seriously, and also no one gives a shit, and also everyone else is drunk anyway.)

Sanji - sous-chef at Baratie (I know, I know, shocker) which is next door to Zoro's gym. He takes classes at the university so that he'll be able to run his own restaurant one day.

(If he finds the FUCKING SHITHEAD who's drawing that Sora, Warrior of the Sea-inspired comic in the school newspaper someone's gonna have to fake an alibi to get him out of murder charges. Even if he does approve of Germa 66's ugly designs and cries over Sora's successful escape and loving words to her lost son)

Usopp - physics major, art minor. Draws a weekly comic for the school newspaper called The Adventures of Sniper King. Picked up boxing due to high school requirements, works out at Zoro's gym.

(Yes it's him. He's got a yellow stripe painted down his back due to the vitriol Sanji spews at his pseudonym daily. He really didn't mean for it to take off! Sanji told them all his story once and Usopp was heartbroken because he lost his mom too and one day he got an itch and he drew a comic about what he thought Sora'd say to Sanji, or what he thought Banchina might say to him, or some weird combination--and then sent it instead of the next installment of Sniper King to his editor ON ACCIDENT and PEOPLE WANTED MORE and HE'S SO SORRY AND HE'S SO SCARED. SANJI'S GONNA KILL HIM AND USOPP WILL DESERVE IT)

((Sanji condemns him into being busboy at Baratie for a month and refuses to speak to him for three days. But he also gives him spicy ginger desserts every night for a week, because Usopp's Sora is truer to life than the original Sora in terms of the love she embodies, and because Stealth Black's rumored escape is shown in the light of triumph. Sanji could hear her in the monologue of Sora's thoughts to her son when she learned he'd escaped Germa 66's clutches. How proud she was that the circumstances of his birth and life hadn't chained him down forever. It was the first time since the age of 9 that he could clearly remember what she had sounded like because, whether through pure miracle or the shared sympathy of orphan-hood, Usopp had gotten her voice exactly right, and it soothed something old and hurting in Sanji to hear it.))

Nami - business/finance, computer science double major. She REALLY wanted to study geography and GIS systems but her family needs the money so she's tilted her dreams--she's going to build the most precise geographic information system in the WORLD and market it to rich assholes while "losing it" to low-income thieves in need.

Stole 50% of her college tuition and negotiated down the other half in a meeting the bursar's office can't actually quite remember fully? But it's their signatures on the papers.

Zoro - business major. Yes, it's as ridiculous as it sounds. No he is not passing any of his classes. But Kuina had been determined to inherit the dojo and keep it flourishing, even if her dad didn't think a woman could. Then she died; and Shimotsuki-sensei died when Zoro was in high school; and now Zoro has two dear friends' dreams on his shoulders, and damn his lack of an MBA or any common sense but he will succeed. Sanji, Nami, and Jimbe are helping.

He did rename the place, from just 'Shimotsuki Dojo' to Kuina's Asskickers, and opened it to all sports. All classes and all tournaments are co-ed, all ages. He tried to get "ASSKICKER" on the gym's competition uniforms/gi but some of his students are toddlers so that wouldn't fly, so he uses 2001 instead. People think it's the founding year and get very confused when the gym is technically 50+years old; 2001 = the number of fights Zoro lost to Kuina.

(Nami asks him why he didn't use "KUINA"; Zoro looks at her funny. "But that's not [male student example]'s name? Why would I put that on his back? Do you want people to get confused??")

((He does have Kuina's name stitched into his gi))

Luffy - biology major. HEAR ME OUT. Garp insisted he go to college for at least a semester and while still an undecided liberal arts major, Luffy discovered a whole BUILDING FILLED WITH COOL BUGS!!! AND PEOPLE GO OUT AND FIND THEM?? AND BRING THEM BACK!! THAT'S A JOB???? SO COOL!!!

So yeah. Technically he's on the road to become an entomologist, but is struggling due to his undiagnosed (but incredibly obvious) AuDHD and a lack of care for statistics (and math in general) and research writing (and reading/writing in general). Robin, Chopper, and Usopp are working HARD to get him to the general area of passing. Luffy also is getting a minor in Portuguese (which is his first language) because he plans on exploring the Amazon Rainforest looking for cool beetles when he graduates.

Ace - fire fighter with shady connections. (more later?)

Sabo - activist with much shadier connections. (more later?)

#jesus this turned out longer than i meant #op #one piece #opla #if you'd like #this is version 1 #i'll write out v2 at a later date

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springfieldork · 3 months

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Fun Things Are Fun

I wouldn’t say I grew up watching anime. Most of my childhood was spent with shows like Star Wars: The Clone Wars or Avatar: The Last Airbender. Sure, I had seen the occasional clip from shows like Dragon Ball or Pokemon or even more recent works like Attack on Titan, but the idea of ‘anime’ being different from cartoons never really entered my mind until I somehow sat down in 2016 to watch K-ON! Looking back, I have no idea why I decided to watch something so outside of my comfort zone, but I’m happy I did because K-ON! introduced me to anime, and it has made an indelible mark on my life because of it.

K-ON! Focuses on a high-school girl named Yui Hirasawa. She’s an airhead and clumsy and innocent. And at first glance, she and I could not be more different. But as the show moved past her introduction, and I got to see Yui struggling with picking out a club to join, I realized that there might be a little bit more to her than I had thought, and I empathized with her on something very unexpected: the feeling of being aimless and a little bit lost.

I had always struggled with not really knowing what exactly I wanted to do, and questions like ‘What do you want to do when you’re older?’ or ‘Where are you going to go to college?’ were ones I had to deal with on a weekly basis. And I was just smart enough — or maybe pessimistic enough — to realize that I couldn’t be a writer and an astronaut and a trauma surgeon and an aerospace engineer and a marine biologist and an archaeologist and a chef and a diplomat and a… you get the point. But I was also a kid who ‘had a gift’ and was ‘way smarter than the rest,’ so I couldn’t just give up. I ended up grinding away and eventually got burnt out working toward an uncertain future after realizing that not only was I not enjoying life in the present, but I didn’t even have a guarantee of enjoying it later. And I guess I saw a little bit of myself in Yui because a part of me wondered if I could learn anything from this strange and timid girl. So I kept watching.

Yui ends up joining the Light Music club with three other girls; Ritsu, the tomboy genki drummer, Mio, the shy but responsible bassist, and Mugi, the cheery and easily excitable keyboardist — Azusa joins the band a year later as well, but for now, it’s just these four and their club adviser. A common joke you might see regarding this series is that K-ON! is a music anime where they never play music, and there’s certainly a bit of truth to that. Most of the band’s days are spent doing nothing but talking, eating cake, and drinking tea — I mean, the band’s name is literally ‘Ho-kago Tea Time’ — which begs the question, what is this show actually about? And to answer that, I would like to use a quote — one that I really think captures the essence of K-ON!

“Fun things are fun.”

Yes, yes, truly the erudite our protagonist Yui is with such a compelling and insightful take on the nature of things, but it’s true. Fun things really are fun. And I think a lot about this quote even today. All too often, we go through the fun parts of life without really appreciating the simple joy that comes with them. Yui believed in having tea and eating cake and practicing songs with her friends because doing all those things was fun. Having fun was the point. And as I have continued living my own life, I have tried to keep that idea in mind. Obviously, my life did not magically become enjoyable and happy overnight, but I really have found myself appreciating the small things more. I’m still not quite sure what the future holds — and that can be a very scary thing indeed — but I do know that I can always enjoy the fun things now, regardless of what might happen later. So, thank you, K-ON! for reminding me about the love that comes with the small stuff — and for introducing me to an art form that would change my life in so many more ways.

If you’re considering giving this anime a try, I highly recommend it. Because in a world where the good parts of life can pass us by in a blink, it can always be helpful to remind yourself that fun things are fun.

#K-ON!#k on #k on!#kyoto animation #kyoani #anime #anime review

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jpbjazz · 5 months

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LÉGENDES DU JAZZ

JOHN CARTER, ‘’LE ALEX HALEY DU JAZZ’’

‘’I had never heard anybody with such control on the clarinet… His complete mastery of the instrument is astounding.”

- Red Callender

Né le 24 septembre 1929 à Fort Worth, au Texas, John Wallace Carter avait d’abord étudié le saxophone alto avant de commencer à jouer de la clarinette à l’âge de douze ans. Très influencé par la musique gospel qu’il avait écoutée à l’église baptiste durant son enfance et par la musique de Duke Ellington, Count Basie et Cab Calloway, Carter avait amorcé sa carrière en jouant du blues au Woodman’s Hall d’Anacostia, un club de jazz de Washington, D.C. Il avait aussi fait équipe avec Ornette Coleman, Dewey Redman et Charles Moffett dans les années 1940.

Après avoir fréquenté le I.M. Terrell High School, Carter avait décroché un baccalauréat en éducation musicale à l’Université Lincoln de Jefferson, au Missouri, en 1949, avant de compléter une maîtrise en éducation musicale à l’Université du Colorado en 1956.

De 1949 à 1961, Carter avait gagné sa vie en enseignant la musique dans le réseau d’écoles publiques de Fort Worth. Parallèlement à sa carrière de professeur, Carter avait continué d’expérimenter avec la clarinette et avait découvert que c’était cet instrument qui lui permettait d’exprimer le mieux sa personnalité musicale. Parmi les premières influences de Carter, on remarquait Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Lester Young, Duke Ellington et Count Basie.

Après s’être installé à Los Angeles, Carter avait enseigné durant vingt et un ans (1961-1982) dans les écoles élémentaires publiques de la ville.

DÉBUTS DE CARRIÈRE

En 1964, Carter avait formé le New Art Jazz Ensemble avec le trompettiste Bobby Bradford, le contrebassiste Tom Williamson et le batteur Bruz Freeman, un pionnier du free jazz qui avait d’abord joué avec Charlie Parker, Lester Young, Coleman Hawkins et Sarah Vaughan. Le groupe avait poursuivi ses activités jusqu’à la mort de Carter en 1991 et se produisait surtout dans le Nord-est des États-Unis.

Décrivant sa première rencontre avec Bradford, qui était de six ans son cadet, Carter avait expliqué: ‘’I met him when I got out therem about ‘65, Bob was living in Pomona and teaching out there, and I was teaching out there (L.A.). I was very frustrated with whar I was doing. I had come here un 1961 and had aspirations for playing my music and I thought I could get as much studio work as I wanted to do when I got out here {...}. I play good lead alto, tenor, soprano, good flute and clarinet of course. I can play oboe and basson, all well enough to do session work.’’ Dans la même entrevue, Carter avait ajouté: ‘’Bob had been with Ornette up to ‘62, then went back to Texas and taught for a couple of years and then moved out there. Well so Bobby really wasn’t doing anything either, on any kinf of regular basis so we got together, it was very natural for us to try to get a group together.’’

Parallèlement à sa collaboration avec Bradford, Carter avait joué du jazz progressif avec des artistes locaux, se produisant à la flûte et au saxophone tout en approfondissant sa maîtrise de la clarinette, contribuant ainsi à briser les frontières musicales tout en était toujours accompagné par Bradford à la trompette. Au cours de cette période, Carter avait aussi joué avec le pianiste Hampton Hawes et le saxophoniste Harold Land.

Carter avait également opéré son propre club de jazz, le Rudolph’s, afin de contribuer au développement de la relève. En 1967, Carter avait dirigé une oeuvre d’Ornette Coleman à UCLA. Carter expliquait: ‘’It was a suite that Ornette had just done for the Guggenheim Grant that he had just got, whatever year that was. A very difficult pass. The band was in the festival house orchestra, whoever was playing brought along their charts and we played them. Carmen McRae was on that and Clark Terry. Ornette’s piece was written for big band against his quintet. {...} Full group, five trumpets, four trombones, five reed and a full rhythm section, and violins and cellos. He played that music a lot of times, he played it with the San Francisco Symphony, he played it in Europe and back in New York.’’

Dans les années 1970, Carter avait fait partie du Little Big Horn Workshop avec Bradford et Newton. Au cours de cette période, Carter s’était également fait connaître pour ses concerts en solo. Dans le cadre du New Jazz Festival de Moers en 1979, Carter s’était produit en duo avec le clarinettiste allemand Theo Jörgensmann durant trois jours. Le concert, qui avait fait connaître Carter à travers le monde, avait donné lieu à une nouvelle performance du duo en 1994.

Vers 1973, Carter et Bradford avaient fait une tournée en Europe et avaient enregistré avec le pianiste Horace Tapscott. Lors d’un séjour à Paris, Carter avait même joué du bebop avec Jaki Byard et Kenny Clarke.

Carter et Bradford s’étaient également produits en concert à UCLA en compagnie de l’Art Ensemble of Chicago, avec qui ils avaient enregistré l’album Tandem 1 en 1979. Après s’être joint au quintet d’instruments à vent de James Newton, Carter avait fondé en 1981 le groupe Clarinet Summit avec Alvin Batiste, Jimmy Hamilton et David Murray.

DERNIÈRES ANNÈES

Même s’il maîtrisait plusieurs instruments, Carter avait surtout joué de la clarinette et du saxophone soprano à partir de la fin des années 1970. Il expliquait: ‘’I think that certain personalities goes with certain instruments. While I have known that all along it took me a long time to associate that myself - because it takes a long time to try and see yourself, and I’m still trying. Like I know what that I am not a tenor player, but I’ve spent a lot of time fooling with the tenor saxophone. I played tenor and college because that was the only way I could get into the dance band. In those days I couldn’t read as well as other fellows could but I could solo better that they could so they need me in the band for that (rires). So I got in on tenor.’’

Lorsque sa fille et ses trois fils avaient atteint l’âge adulte au début des années 1980, Carter avait commencé à enseigner la clarinette à plein temps au Wind College de Los Angeles, une école qu’il avait lui-même fondée. Carter, qui possédait sa propre maison de disques, avait également enregistré avec Bradford et Newton l’album Night Fire, qui comprenait des classiques comme “Morning Bell”, “Juba Stomp” et “Buckin.”’ Sur l’album Dance of the Love Ghosts, Carter avait combiné les cuivres, les synthétiseurs et des percussions traditionnelles comme le kete et le dawuro. En plus de la chanson titre, l’album incluait les pièces The Captain’s Dilemma” et “Moon Waltz”, toutes des compositions originales.

De 1982 à 1990, Carter avait résumé sa vision du jazz et de l’histoire des Afro-Américains dans la suite en cinq parties Roots and Folklore: Episodes in the Development of American Folk Music. Publié dans un coffret de cinq CD, l’oeuvre, qui combinait le jazz moderne avec le blues et le jazz traditionnel, avait été saluée par la critique comme une des meilleures réalisations des années 1990. En 1998, le clarinettiste François Houle avait repris des extraits de l’oeuvre sur son album intitulé In the Vernacular—Music of John Carter.

Peu avant la mort de Carter en 1991, le New Arts Jazz Ensemble avait enregistré un dernier album. Intitulé ‘’Seeking’’, l’album comprenait cinq compositions originales de Carter, dont “Karen on Monday” et “Sticks and Stones”.

John Carter est mort au Daniel Freeman Memorial Hospital d’Inglewood en Californie, le 31 mars 1991 à la suite de complications liés à son cancer des poumons. Carter laissait dans le deuil son épouse Gloria, sa fille Karen et ses fils John Jr., Stanley et Kris. Atteint d’une tumeur non maline, Carter s’était fait retirer un de ses poumons un an avant sa mort, mais il avait continué de se produire sur scène. Carter avait présenté une de ses dernières performances en février dans le cadre d’un événement organisé par la Society for Jazz and World Music à Santa Barbara, en Californie.

Continuant d’explorer l’histoire du peuple afro-américain, Carter avait présenté en septembre 1990 sa composition “Castles of Ghana”, une suite inspirée de la traite des esclaves en Afrique de l’Ouest au 16 siècle, au Japan America Theatre de Los Angeles. Dans le cadre d’une entrevue accordée au New York Times en 1990, Carter avait déclaré qu’il avait conçu le projet après que son fils John Jr., qui revenait d’un voyage en Afrique de l’ouest, lui ait expliqué que les châteaux du Ghana étaient utilisés comme lieu de détention pour les futurs esclaves avait d’être expédiés en Amérique.

Au moment de sa mort, Carter devait se produire avec un quartet comprenant Perry Robinson, Theo Jörgensmann et Eckard Koltermann.

Carter a été admis au Down Beat Hall of Fame l’année-même de sa mort en 1991. Au cours de sa carrière, Carter avait remporté deux autres prix décernés par le magazine: le premier pour un enregistrement avec un petit groupe en 1973, et le second comme clarinettiste méritant la meilleure reconnaissance en 1982.

En 1996, Carter avait obtenu quatre étoiles du magazine Q et cinq étoiles du NAPRA Trade Journal pour ses compositions “Sippi Strut”, “Spats”, “Hymn to Freedom” et “And I Saw Them” tirées de son album Shadows on a Wall. Commentant le dernier album de Carter, le critique David Grogan avait décrit le musicien comme un compositeur d’avant-garde passionné par l’histoire du peuple afro-américain et l’avait surnommé le ‘’Alex Haley of the Jazz world.”

Carter avait souvent été comparé au trompettiste Wynton Marsalis pour la beauté et la spontanéité de son jeu. Le tubiste et contrebassiste Red Callender qui avait accompagné Carter, Bradford et Newton sur l’album Dauwhe, avait souligné la maîtrise par Carter de son intrument dans l’ouvrage Rough Guides to Jazz, dans lequel il écrivait: “I had never heard anybody with such control on the clarinet…. His complete mastery of the instrument is astounding.”

Les compositions de Carter pour clarinette, trompette, cornet, violon, trombone, batterie et contrebasse portaient souvent des titres évocateurs comme “Evening Prayer”, “Conversations”, “The Fallen Prince” et “Theme of Desperation.”

Plusieurs musiciens ont rendu hommage à Carter après sa mort, dont le clarinettiste François Houle qui avait enregistré des versions lyriques de ses compositions “Sticks and Stones” and “Karen on Monday” sur son album Vernacular—Music of John Carter publié en 1998.

Un des premiers clarinettistes de l’histoire à avoir exprimé une vision humaniste de l’héritage africain dans le jazz, Carter avait toujours improvisé avec énormément d’émotion. Les recherches tonales de Carter l’avaient incité à étudier le passé esclavagiste des Afro-Américains et à mettre en lumière leur combat pour l’émancipation après la Guerre civile. Artiste passionné, très articulé intellectuellement et très concentré sur sa musique, Carter avait influencé toute une nouvelle génération de musiciens, dont Julius Hemphill, Peter Epstein, James Newton, David Murray et Bobby Bradford.

#jazz

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lexa-griffins · 2 years

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I feel like we need some virgin Clarke hc to complement the virgin Lexa asks 🙂 How about seven minutes in heaven where nerdy trans Clarke is stuck with her crush, popular Lexa in the closet after spin the bottle? Clarke gets the balls to actually makeout with Lexa who is impressed by Clarke's sudden confidence. After their seven minutes is up, Lexa pulls Clarke to an empty room to pop her cherry.

I ended up writing a whole thing, sorry 😅 i also don't know why I went with an HSAU since I don't really write those but here we are. I'm splitting this in two parts, and post the smut later! Because I think this is cute!

Lexa is been the most popular girl in school for as long as Clarke can remember really. She's always been a natural leader so it really comes as no shock to see her climb the social ladder early on, reaching its peak at high school, head of the student council, star of the volleyball team with a one way ticket to Harvard. Clarke's has a crush on her since Lexa put a flower in Clarke's hair back in third grade, back then still very short and a wavy blonde mess most of the time, and told Clarke how pretty she looked like that.

At eleven Lexa declares she only likes girls and Clarke realizes she'll never get a chance.

At thirteen Clarke starts transitioning and realizes she could actually have a chance.

If they didn't run in completely different groups.

Lexa lives amongst star athletes that are all far too good looking and far too smart for Clarke to even dare approach them, while Clarke is the art nerd type and runs with equally nerd minded people, the type that excell at one subject and subject only, like Raven and her out of this world talent for mechanics or "cockroach" Murphy whose love for survivalist media turned him into a bug lover like no other. They play dnd on the weekend and try not to get caught stealing parts from cars at the junk yard.

So when Lexa, the same Lexa that put a flower in Clarke's hair, the one who might have triggered Clarke's realization into the fact she was trans, the same Lexa that has nearly given Clarke a boner in the middle of gym class because of the way she bent down in her volleyball shorts, comes over to their table to invite them to a party that weekend at her house Clarke is convinced someone, somewhere is playing a prank on her.

It doesn't happen often she isn't mocked or bullied but Clarke has heard the mean spirited whispers. She doesn't give a shit about then, nerd doesn’t equate weak and she refuses to run away and cry just because a bunch of high schooler think her being different is funny.

But Lexa wouldn't. Right? She might be bitchy at times, imposing and refusing to let anyone walk over her but she wouldn't prank Clarke. They're not friends anymore, not since middle school, but Lexa still waves at her in the hall and hasn't missed a short yet thoughtful text message on Clarke's birthday.

They go. Because well, why wouldn't they? Lexa seems genuinely happy to see her and even compliments her band tee, focusing her eyes a little too hard on the way the Queen logo distorts around Clarke's chest, and offers her a drink that Clarke notes isn't particularly strong which is cute and thoughtful despite the fact Clarke has been drinking Monty's homemade moonshine for about two years now every other Sunday during their DnD nights. It's sweet that Lexa gave Clarke the least amount if alcohol possible without straight away assuming she wanted none, telling Clarke that behind the whole popular girl facade, the girl Clarke developed a major crush on is still alive and well.

Which is great. If it didn't make Clarke feel ten times more attracted to Lexa; Lexa in her cute white shorts and her laced-up red blouse that forces Clarke to bite the inside of her cheek so she won't get hard and be entirely to up front about her feelings towards Lexa.

She hangs out. Talks to a few people she only ever lent a pen to before, talks to Lexa for longer than she has in the past four years combined, laughs when Lexa recalls that time they were caught by Abby giggling at an anatomy book when they were kids and pretends she doesn't feel jealous when Lexa talks about her ex girlfriend Costia, who is now off to college somewhere.

She's a little buzzed by the time someone suggests they play seven minutes in heaven. Clarke doesn't even know where Raven and Murphy are, although shebsuspects they are no where in the circle when she sits down on the couch directly in front of Lexa. Statistically Clarke is sure the odds are against her when the bottle starts to spin.

She isn't really thinking about what will happen when the stops spinning and she has to go into the closet with someone because she just really wants that someone to be Lexa. Pretty popular Lexa who keeps smiling nervously at her and whose cheeks are a pretty shade of red and whose hair bounces when she walks, whose hand is very soft as she touches her, urging her to get up.

"Clarke, cmon were up." Lexa giggles above her, trying to pull her up from her sit.

Clarke doesn't understand quite why. Lexa seems to manage to read her mind, despite looking nearly as much or even tipster than Clarke.

"It landed on me."

Oh, look at that. It has. Pointing straight ahead where Lexa had her cute butt sitted.

Clarke's being pulled into a closed full of jackets before she knows it. It's warm and stuffy inside, barely enough people for one of her, much less the two of them... that must be why she can feel Lexa's nipple through the shirt, Clarke now noticing the girl has gone braless. And if Clarke can feel Lexa's nipples than Lexa can fot sure feel....

"Shit, I'm sorry." Clarke apologizes frantically, trying - and failing miserably- to get some space between her body and Lexa's.

She tries every quick solution in the book. She fleshes her leg and then her arm and then her buttcheek but it doesn't help. She's actually sure she must look like she's having a case of involuntary spasms. She tries to think about everything else, anyone else but it useless when Lexa is right there, so real and so within reach for Clarke's mind to even come up with anyone else's face.

Clarke's about to apologize again. She feels like a creep even if it is not her fault. What will Lexa think of her now? The weird nerd kid she decided to give a chance at friendship again only for Clarke to pop a boner so hard she might have to run home and jerk off to exhaustion.

Lexa says something that Clarke can't quite make out, "Hmm?"

"It's okay." Lexa repeats. It's slightly slurred out Clarke realizes, and at first she fears Lexa is much drunker than she thought. But then. Then Clarke sees green eyes hooded as they stare down at the party crasher between Clarke's legs, lips parted and heavy breathing hitting Clarke's face in warm puffs. A hand that is so close to her boner Clarke could moan just at the thought.

And then her gaze shifts and Lexa is staring at her, eyes nearly black with lust and Clarke decides this is now or never. No trying to keep a somewhat there friendship going, no backing out at the last second, no doubts about stupid high school social status that mean nothing in the real world.

Clarke kisses Lexa. Hard. Like she never kissed anyone before. And it's not like she kissed a lot.

Lexa doesnt seem bothered by this. Instead she wraps her arms lazily around Clarke's neck, letting Clsrke do has she pleases, pulling her by the waist and then slamming Lexa's hips on the closet door. Clarke attempts her best impersonation of someone who knows what the fuck they are doing, bitting Lexa's pouty bottom lip and pulling it slightly, hoping it was more sexy than it was borderline cannibalistic. If the moan that rumbles against her lips is any indication Clarke would say she deserves an high five for effort.

"You're so hot." Lexa manages between kisses, and Clarke swears she could conquer the entire world upon hearing those words, "and so fucking hard."

Clarke stops. Comically so she'd say. Eyes opened wide, Lexa's bottom lip still between her teeth. Lexa's eyes open after hers, softly at first and then big and wide all at once, Clarke's face clearly concerning her.

"Sorry." Clarke jumps to say, releasing Lexa's lip and composing herself. Her shirt has now traveled up her mid section and Lexa's laced up shirt is somehow loosened, ofdering just slightly less coverage than the shirt originally did. She pushes herself back from Lexa's body with great sacrifice, only for the arms that are still around her shoulder to pull her back in for a far more tamed kiss.

Lexa chuckles as she pulls away, "you say sorry a little to much."

Clarke laughs nervously, "yeah, sorry about that."

The sight of a perfect eyebrow raising and beautiful lips turned up in a smirk make her realize her mistake, "oh right yeah. Sorry. I mean no, I'm not sorry. Fuck this is hard."

Theyre laughing before Clarke can catch a hold of herself. Lexa pulls her closer again and Clarke wraps her arms around the girl's generous hips and they both laugh quietly in each other's shoulders.

Lexa smells like alcohol and raspberries. Her hair smells like roses.

"It's not the only thing that's hard you know."

She's going to say sorry again, but the words hang in her throat. A knock on the door makes her forget she was going to say it at all.

"Your times up!" It's Murphy's voice. She guesses he and Raven where in the circle after all.

They take a few seconds to compose themselves, the way Lexa closes up the string of her shirt and runs a hand through the soft brown curls of her hair doing nothing to soften Clarke's situation.

Lexa smiles at it and gives Clarke's cheek a peck "I'll walk in front of you."

There's the girl who put a flower in her hair.

#letter opened #wanheda's dagger #clexa #virgin clarke #g!p clarke griffin #my writing #au: 7min in heaven

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apocalypsewriters · 1 year

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Not My Magical Destiny part 1

Intro found here. next (part 2)>>

Kodi is interrupted by a welcome surprise: Gabriel. He has news and hopefully a damn good explanation as to why he went almost completely off the radar for the better part of two months

The bell to Purebread Pastries jingled sharply as my best friend walked into the bakery. Despite his all-black wardrobe, Gabriel had never darkened a doorway in his life; he was the most stubborn sweetheart I had the blessing of calling my best friend for the last decade. He was unfailingly good and only took criticism from anyone he held in the highest regard. Still, there was something odd about his entrance this morning. Naturally reserved, Gabe typically carried himself with an air of confidence, but now it was missing, tarnished like the chains strung between the pockets of his black jeans. His shoulders were broader than I remembered. He ran a nervous hand through his frizzy, floppy, poorly dyed hair. His roots were growing out, like mine – we always dyed it together. I hadn’t seen more than two inches of his natural jet-black hair since the first manic midnight four years ago in high school. While the difference unnerved me, I appreciated he hadn’t done anything that suggested he was trying to abandon me.

“Hey, Kodi,” Gabe said, picking at the grout lining the glass displays of pastry. Some of my finest work was behind there – palm-sized poodles, wreaths of roses, and a plethora of other puff pastry sculptures.

I was not about to see my best friend, my soulmate, flounder for anything from me. In a weak attempt to lighten his mood, I said, “So you’ve come crawling back, have you?”

A smile cracked Gabe’s nervous composure. He let my teasing jibe fall flat, softly countering it with, “I missed you.”

“No, duh, you goof. I haven’t seen you for weeks,” I shot back, gently. I let the concern that had built up bleed through in a display of rare anger. “You’ve never replied to my texts in so few words. At least you didn’t call me, then I would have started worrying about you.”

He winced. “Sorry.”

“Hey,” I said, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards me. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to do your own thing. Just a little heads up next time you pseudo disappear would be nice. And remember, you can tell me anything. Or nothing. I love you no matter what.”

Tears welled up in Gabe’s eyes.

“Oh, hey, no. No crying. This is happy. You’re seeing your favourite person for the first time in seven weeks.”

Weakly, Gabe pushed my hand back at my chest where it brushed against the embroidery he’d done on my apron.

This time, he said to himself, “Wow, I missed you, Kodi.”

Looking around the bakery ornamented with a zoo of hand-drawn animals, I ensured no customers were waiting before I retrieved a croissant from one of the bins in the back. I pushed it on a plate into Gabe’s mildly shaking hands and led him to sit at a table in the corner.

“Want to talk? Or just sit?” I asked, pointedly tugging at the singed collar of the flannel he had borrowed from my extensive collection.

Cheeks darkening, Gabe tucked the exposed parts of the flannel into his black band shirt. “Just,” he stalled, “give me a minute. I need to collect my thoughts.”

“Of course,” I reassured, sitting back and watching him pick at the croissant. They had been a chore to make yesterday, but at least I didn’t get sore anymore. When I started working at the bakery part-time to fund my freshman year of college I had rarely been able to raise my arms above my head. It made waving across campus at all the acquaintances I had made difficult.

There were never any uncomfortable silences with Gabriel. Spending time together twenty-four-seven since meeting in a tree at six years old tends to do that to people. Nonetheless, there was a tension in the corner of Purebread Pastries that I hadn’t known with Gabe before. We sat in the quiet. I had to stifle the urge to squirm; it was easier to look busy with more people around instead of one person, even if that person was Gabe. I stole the last chunk of his pastry, returning his stuck-out tongue, the exchange loosening the worry that had been sitting on my gut for the past month and a half.

“So,” Gabe said. He was stalling again.

I poked his side, right where I knew he was ticklish. He wrinkled his nose. He jabbed me back. I smiled. “So?” I prompted.

“I’ve been a little busy since I saw you last.”

I raised my eyebrows. No kidding.

A guilty, nervous, awkward smile flashed across his face. Sorry.

It’s okay. I tilted my head forward.

If we wanted to have this conversation silently, we could.

“It, uh,” stammered Gabe, “turns out I’m the child of some mystical prophecy.” It looked like it pained him to get the words out.

Were it anyone else, I would have accused them of pulling my leg. But we didn’t lie to each other and I hoped I would get a better explanation out of him if I gave him the time. I set a hand on his thigh, soothing. “That sounds like a dream come true for you, nerd.”

Gabe nodded. “That’s what I thought, too, at first. It went badly very quickly, though. Turns out the fantasy worlds I’ve been reading about don’t compare to the real thing. You see…”

I tried my hardest to keep hold of the thread of his explanation. He didn’t go into much detail. I tried to keep my expression placid and reassuring instead of betraying the panic of this revelation. It didn’t make any sense. I tried to grapple with the impossibility of what Gabriel was saying. I knew Gabe had an active, vivid imagination, but he would never create such a twisted world lying beneath our feet and above our heads. It was so ridiculous no one could have made it up.

The ranks of Envy, Sloth, Gluttony, Wrath, and others I couldn’t keep track of were trying to keep the world balanced. They had been suffering under the more numerous ranks of Gratitude, Temperance, Chastity, and their partners. There was brimstone and burning light, blades and acid, fire and frost.

There was no way I could remember it all. Then again, I never did particularly well on tests. Still, I had no idea how he did it and stayed safe, relatively speaking. If I thought I was worried for Gabe while he was gone with next to no explanation, it didn’t compare to my fear for him now.

He wrapped up his account and revelations, looking at me with hope raw behind his eyes.

“Okay,” I stuttered. “Okay. Wow. That’s… a lot to handle.”

“That’s why they asked me not to tell anyone from my old life,” he admitted, studying the crumbs on his plate. “Why I promised to stay away. But I just needed to talk to someone. And we don’t keep secrets.”

I whisked the plate away and his gaze snapped up to follow my retreat to the kitchen. Finally out of view, I let my calm facade crumble. There didn’t seem to be enough time to process what he had told me. Maybe I had read too many books from the library that was his old room, but I almost found myself believing him. We had played pretend plenty, but this seemed different. There was a gravity to his words, a shift in his demeanor; if anyone could see it, it would be me. Gabe didn’t make anything up for the fun of it, lest it tarnish his reputation. He only created excellence, so there was no reason to tell tall tales about his life.

It was only a moment between placing the plate by the sink and returning to the counter, but, still, something almost broke in Gabe’s face. Only thread and faith held him together. I crooked my finger and he practically fell over himself to join me behind the cash register. Pulling him into a hug, his t-shirt smelled like ash and despair instead of biblichor. He crushed his face into my shoulder; I felt every ridge of his face, his cheeks tugging into a fragile, relieved smile. Our hugs hadn’t changed since we’d met. There was always safety in our arms when we were together. Shoulders cupped in my calloused hands, I held him out in front of me and pressed our foreheads together.

“And you betrayed their trust for me?”

Gabe yanked me back into the hug, grumbling, “Of course.”

I smirked. “Does that mean you like me?” I singsonged.

Shoving me away, Gabe cackled, the first true joy I had seen on his face since he walked through the door. Through snickers, he said, “Goodness, no. We’ve tried that before.”

Stifling my own laughter, I corroborated, “Yeah, that was a trainwreck.” Platonic and romantic feelings were hard to differentiate when you weren’t straight. We had dated in junior year of high school but realized what we felt for each other wasn’t good old-fashioned romance. I would say we broke up, but what we did together remained the same before, during, and after our “confused period.” How could you break up if you weren’t together, to begin with? Labels were complex, even with people you knew better than yourself.

“So, no,” smiled Gabe, “I don’t like you. I love you, Kodi.”

“Love you more.”

Gabe sighed with more world-weariness than I wanted to hear from him. “I should probably go,” he said. “They’ll be wondering where I am.” His feet looked like they weighed as much as a house as he trudged towards the door.

“Gabe!” I called.

He turned in time to see the roll flying towards his head. For a moment, it glowed purple. The roll stopped its arc. It dropped into his hand. He stashed it in his black over-the-chest bag. He smiled his thanks.

“Hey,” I said, fixing him with a look. He knew what it meant. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“To you?” Gabriel scoffed. His expression softened. “Never.”

next (part 2) >>

#writeblr #writing #my writing #short story #nmmd #not my magical destiny #oooo here we go!

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mhalachai · 2 years

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👻, 💕

👻

What is your wildest headcanon?

I have a few.

MCU: Sam Wilson was a band kid in high school.

Stargate Atlantis: There’s something a little off about John Sheppard. While he’s very good at pretending to be normal, sometimes, when things are getting real and lives are on the line, the mask slips just a bit. Just a little uncanny valley for anyone lucky enough to survive the next few minutes. (It does kind of explain the in-canon luck, and the body count)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: “The monks made her out of me” – Dawn Summers was Buffy’s daughter; specifically, Buffy was pregnant when the monks made the Key into human form… and that microscopic embryo was taken and aged and given memories through magic, and shoved into Buffy’s life as her little sister, not her daughter.

And I kinda always thought Buffy knew that.

💕

What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Worldbuilding: Inevitable – especially in levelling-up Anita’s powers through the Bokor Majeur, and everything about the London vampires and Elsa in particular.

Relationships: Child of the Wolf – Everything about this fic just snaps into place with Stiles as the centre of everything, with Scott and Derek and the pack and with Allison and Lydia and his dad, as well as the Avengers side of things as well. Even though it took me seven years to finish (and even that was inspired by MCU-motivated spite) I really like it how it rounded out into a nice fic. Which, of course, I then blew apart in Hour of the Wolf, but it wouldn’t have hurt so much if Allison hadn’t had so much to lose.

Overall presentation: Hands of Clay. Considering the domestic AU nature of the story, it could have turned out kinda lame, but I think that the real life nature of things really played out well, and the relationships that develop between the four members of the eventual Buck-Rogers Barnes-Rogers family made for a really interesting story. Writing Bucky’s PTSD was hard, ngl, but also slightly cathartic.

Also, a word on endings. One of the things I always regretted about Inevitable was ending is so abruptly – it was what it was, but I always sort of felt that the emotional weight of what was happening didn’t land as I had intended. With Hands of Clay, I really, really wanted to wrap things up where Bucky and Steve (and Natasha and Clint) all got their happily-ever-after, especially after everything Natasha went through in the latter chapters.

So we got the outtakes. Clint getting his dog. Natasha asking Steve to adopt her. Steve’s hilarious attempt at proposing. And then the final chapter: the wedding, and Bucky getting to have everyone in his life in one room, with some good food, watching him getting married to the love of his life.

Not bad, even if I do say so myself :)

From the fanfic writer's ask meme

#thanks for the ask!#fanfic writer's ask meme #writing is hard #asks #krchov

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bmodiwrites · 2 years

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And My Heart Ran Away From Me

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: There's no real excuse for this one. I've been watching far too many Hallmark movies, I think. Word Count: ~12.5k Warnings: There’s definitely some smut in here, but it’s me writing, so that’s not really a surprise. Other than that, there’s not too much aside from some good old Christmas fun! Summary:

Eddie unexpectedly loses his job. After years away and hopes for many more, Eddie has nowhere to go but back home. There, he runs into an old crush turned elementary school principal. It's love and lust at first sight for Eddie all over again. Read to find out what happens when assumptions are made and two people who are meant to be dance around each other in every silly way imaginable.

Or, Steddie meets a Hallmark movie!

Read the rest on AO3 here!

The decision to drive seemed like a good one when Eddie first pulled away from his downtown Chicago apartment. His head was filled to the point of near explosion – the time alone would do him so much good. At least, that was what Eddie initially thought when he sat behind the wheel to start the twenty hour drive back to Hawkins, Indiana. Eddie didn’t take into account the anxiety and second guessing that would start to bombard him the closer he got to his childhood home. It’d been thirteen years since he stepped foot in Indiana, much less Hawkins. As he inched closer, Eddie’s skin got tight, started to crawl. Dread settled in under the already residual cloud of sadness that was now Eddie’s constant companion. No, it never crossed Eddie’s mind that he’d have to deal with the ghost of feelings long forgotten the closer he got to the place he used to call home. He probably wouldn’t have even attempted the journey if it did.

Leaving after high school was the best decision that Eddie ever made – despite what happened, Eddie still believed that to his very core. He struggled to get by in the small town he grew up in and some freedom was just what Eddie needed. Being different was a death sentence that Eddie felt lucky to escape. Though they all knew it was a long shot, Eddie and his buddies, the boys who made up Corroded Coffin, all set off for stardom the day after graduation without looking back. It took a bit of struggling, but the band finally caught a break about six months later. Eddie, despite everyone looking down at him or doubting his talent and risky choices, was actually making something of himself.

The high of a dream come true lasted for a couple of years – Eddie lived up the moments where he got to play music for a living all day, every day. The band toured and made a couple of records that took off and brought them even more success than Eddie ever imagined. They were headed towards something so good that Eddie had to go and absolutely fuck it up – that was the natural order of things, after all.

They were back in Chicago for a couple of weeks to celebrate the holidays before the second leg of their third sold-out tour. Eddie was high on life and a couple joints that made him feel invincible. He didn’t see the patch of black ice, didn’t feel the car flip, didn’t even remember what happened until many months later when his memory started to resurface.

A concussion, of all things, was the thing that yanked all of Eddie’s music dreams and ambitions right from his hands. The severe bang on his head, which cost him four staples in his skull and several stitches across his cheek, caused irreversible hearing damage. Though he wasn’t deaf and hadn’t lost the ability to hear completely, Eddie’s ability to keep a tune or fluctuate throughout the different pitches was nonexistent. A tone deaf guitar player was no good for anyone, no matter how good Eddie was before.

Healing took up enough of Eddie’s attention that he didn’t notice the lack of music in his life at first. He was too caught up in the idea of getting his hearing back that the reason for all the effort sort of slipped through his fingers. The reality of the situation stayed away long enough for Eddie to come to terms with the new silence in his life. When the consequences of his truth really sunk in, Eddie was somewhat prepared for the fallout. He kept himself together enough to not have a complete mental breakdown, to think fast and find a workable solution, instead. Eddie wanted to stay in the band and luckily, had the perfect way to do it.

Always having an artistic eye, Eddie took to photography almost immediately. He always wanted to freeze time and capture moments as a kid but the lack of monetary means to do so doused the flame of that desire. No longer a poor, struggling child, Eddie splurged with his well-earned tour profits to get himself a quality camera and a new start in life. It took no time at all for him to read the manual and understand how it all worked. Once he got the hang of the little machine in his hands, Eddie let himself loose artistically and created a space for himself. If he couldn’t be in the band, he’d sure as hell capture their candid moments, instead.

And that’s exactly what Eddie did – for a decade, Corroded Coffin had the best behind the scenes footage in the music business. Eddie’s photos were well known by fans of the band and photo artists alike. He had a unique eye that told a story unlike any photographer before him. He loved his work and would’ve been happy to continue it for many years to come.

Of course, allowing for complacency to set in meant Eddie was in for the shock of his lifetime. Corroded Coffin was scheduled to start their tenth world tour a couple of weeks before Christmas. Eddie had already used the travel as an excuse to put his uncle off for another year. While he missed Wayne more than he cared to admit, Eddie had no intention of ever going back to Hawkins. He thought he had the greatest job in the world that would always give him an out. Except, the job he thought was his forever was quickly yanked out from under him.

Eddie should’ve saw it coming. Jeff and their newest guitarist, Kurt, started pulling away months before the news came. After so many years of friendship, Eddie brushed off Jeff’s distance, chalked it up to too much time spent together after a long stretch of road shows. It never once crossed his mind that the guys were planning to trade him in for something younger, prettier, and more busty than Eddie could ever be. Walking up to the bus to see a petite blonde with a camera bag strapped across her extra booby chest shouldn’t have come as such as surprise – but it did. Eddie was so shocked that he stood there dumbly as the tour bus rolled away, until there was nothing before him but dust and broken dreams.

It took Eddie an admittedly long time to drag himself away from the life that’d been his just moments before. He was numb and lost, completely not with it when he called Wayne to cry and complain and finally break down. There were no inhibitions left when he readily agreed to go home for Christmas. His mind was completely gone in those tender minutes of insanity. By the time that Eddie realized what he’d done, seven hours and two gas fill ups were already under his belt. Aside from that, he’d given Wayne his word; Eddie disappointed his old man enough to know that doing so again wasn’t an option this time around. Despite hating the thought of retracing his steps anywhere near the home he used to have, Eddie gripped the wheel a little tighter and kept on driving. When all was said and done, what did he really have to lose?

Unfortunately, Eddie had several more hours to ponder that exact question. His sanity seemed to be the only thing hovering on the edge, though that wasn’t much different than the past few months for Eddie. The crazy right turn he was taking at the moment was inevitable – Eddie felt the need to break free and change everything bubbling up for a long time. Too bad it took the sudden jolt of being stabbed in the back to set Eddie on the right path. In the long run, Eddie was lucky his uncle gave enough shit about him to invite him back at all.

Thinking back to their conversation, Eddie let himself smile – the quirk of his lips almost felt foreign after being in such a perpetual bad mood. Wayne was known to do that, though.

“What’s the matter boy?” Eddie recalled Wayne saying. His uncle’s voice was rough and deep, but Eddie recognized the care there, too. “You calling more than once in the month is too rare of an occasion to be a coincidence.”

There was a moment of silence where Eddie tried to remember why he spent so much time avoiding the man on the other side of the line. The unsubtle way Wayne just laid himself down was too much for him in that moment. Eddie was embarrassed to admit that his uncle was grossly correct – he went out of his way to make the time between calls longer and longer. It seemed silly now, in a desperate moment where Eddie needed the comfort and Wayne offered it so willingly.

So, Eddie spilled his guts. He told Wayne everything about the unsatisfactory nature of his life, how he missed the connection that music brought, how he never really fit in after having to step away and take up a new role. Eddie let so much of his troubles go that Wayne even knew about his loneliness by the time the words had run dry and the truth was the only thing that remained. There was no real argument when Wayne suggested coming back to Hawkins – Eddie was even shocked to hear that some work opportunities might be available to him. Desperate and ready to be back in someone’s orbit that cared for him, Eddie agreed, packed a bag, and set off.

He was still thinking about the hastiness of that decision when the Hawkins sign on the side of the road came into view. Sucking in a weary breath, Eddie tried not to anxiously clench his jaw. It was obviously too late to turn back – aside from nineteen hours of committed driving time already, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder if maybe a break from all the bull shit was a good thing. It’d been so long since Eddie slowed down that he truly couldn’t remember the last time it happened. Resolving himself to that positive attitude, Eddie flicked on his turn blinker to make the final descent into Hawkins proper. As he let go of the brake and shifted the wheel, Eddie shook his head and let go.

Driving down Main Street, Eddie was pleasantly surprised to see that while a lot had actually changed, not so much of it had, either. The huge grocery store was still the same, even the little cart rack by the road was eerily familiar. Eddie would’ve sworn it was a decade ago if it weren’t for the huge coffee shop that now took up the space that used to be a thrift store. The empty parking spot right by the door drew Eddie in as the siren of coffee made it impossible to drive any further without stopping. Eddie parked his car and climbed out with a surge of excitement rushing through him – he thought he would have to get by with Wayne’s special brand of sludgy-black coffee. Knowing he had a place to escape to made his arrival back to a place he tried to avoid a bit better than he first imagined. Maybe he’d actually be able to get through his visit after all.

Of course, thinking those sorts of wishful thoughts was dangerous, giving Eddie the kind of hope that had no business residing in the same vessel as his perpetual bad attitude. That truth made itself abundantly clear when one of the most haunting ghosts from his past met Eddie at the door of the coffee shop.

Steve Harrington, the most beautiful man himself, was parked at a small table on the right side of the shop. He was facing the doors so that Eddie spotted him the second he strolled in. All the confidence in Eddie’s step drained from him at the sight of his childhood crush. As he sat there, Steve looked more gorgeous than ever. The glasses that framed his hazel eyes were stylish and fit the shape of Steve’s cheeks too well – Steve’s fine features certainly didn’t need any extra help. They drew Eddie’s eyes first thing, though the David Bowie concert shirt was a close second. While more than ten years had passed, Steve Harrington still looked like the eighteen year-old that Eddie remembered. If it weren’t for the facial hair and barely noticeable lines by his eyes, Eddie would be certain Steve was some sort of time traveler or immortal who didn’t age. In truth, the man simply looked good – as if anything aside from that was ever an option for the best looking guy that Hawkins had to offer.

Quickly realizing that he’d gone still to think up all of those not so pure things, Eddie straightened his posture and walked further into the shop. He dragged in a long breath of air, only to let out a soft sigh of relief at the tantalizing scent of freshly ground coffee beans. Closing his eyes for a moment, Eddie let the familiarity of being around something that brought him comfort sit in his chest and warm him up. After everything he’d been through, a simple thing like good coffee was more than enough to bring him a little happiness.

The sound of someone saying “Welcome to Henderson’s” brought Eddie out of his trance. Looking up, Eddie was shocked to see Nancy Wheeler, of all people, standing expectantly behind the counter. Eddie had to work hard not to let his jaw drop at the sight. Out of all the people he expected to be back in their sleepy little town, Nancy wasn’t one of them. She had a lot of gusto in her personality and the brains to match. For a moment, Eddie allowed himself to marvel at the funny way that life worked.

“Holy shit, you’re Nancy Wheeler.” Eddie was still so shocked that he forgot to check his mouth at the door. Trying to smile through the awkwardness, Eddie forced himself to count to ten and not flee from his very spot. On top of Nancy’s brainy prowess, Eddie couldn’t help but recall the badass streak the little woman before him had in her. He feared for his life for a brief moment. Then, the cutest look of confusion overtook her face and Eddie relaxed.

Her, “do I know you – “ was elegantly interrupted by Steve Harrington standing up from his chair and joining the conversation. “Eddie Munson, as I live and breathe!” His exclamation rang so loudly throughout the store that even Nancy drew back a little. She smartly cut herself off and went about fiddling with the cash register in front of her. Eddie, ever the brave one, turned to greet Steve, a soft smile on his face. “I didn’t believe Wayne when he said you were coming back to town.”

At the mention of his uncle, Eddie forgot the drool he’d been trying not to let drip down his chin to shfit his attention elsewhere. “You know Wayne?” Eddie asked stupidly, his tone perplexed. He cringed at himself for a second before pushing past the oddness of it all. For some reason, Steve Harrington knew his uncle and Eddie planned to find out why.

Steve, the gorgeous little asshole, didn’t even blink an eye. “I sure do. He’s one of the best substitute teachers in town. I don’t know what we’d do without him – especially at this time of the year.” Steve smiled then, the look almost wolfish. His teeth were white and blinding, much too distracting for the discussion at hand.

“What in the world is happening?” Eddie asked, looking up at the ceiling dramatically. Wayne, the man who didn’t even want to help him with his homework, was a teacher… at a school? Just when Eddie thought things were already thrown way out of whack, another oddity came slamming down on the pile. “I can’t believe Wayne’s a teacher. You,” he said, pointing over at Steve, “I can see being one, but Wayne – he refused to proofread for me before I started high school!”

A sharp laugh cut through Eddie’s downward spiral. Steve’s lips were pulled back in a genuine expression of mystified enjoyment. “I’m actually the principal, but you’re not all that far off. I was a teacher for the first couple years of my career.” Crossing his arms, Steve relaxed his long limbs and leaned against the front counter with the slightest pop of his hip. “One of my kids got under Wayne’s skin a couple of school years ago. It’s hard to say no to the little monsters once you’ve come to understand the power of puppy dog eyes and little lip wobbles.”

Dumbfounded that Steve seemed to know more about his uncle now than he did, Eddie mumbled out some half-assed response, then turned away from the conversation completely to babble out his coffee order, side-eyeing Steve the entire time. Things stayed silent and tense for the entirety of the three minutes it took for Nancy to make his quad-espresso and slide it across the counter towards him. Eager to do something with his hands, Eddie swept it up and brought the cup to his mouth. Pushing past the scalding his tongue was taking, Eddie felt immediate relief as the caffeine hit his taste buds and sunk down his throat to get blissfully lost in his blood stream. The fire in his mouth was nothing when compared to the warm feeling that settled in his chest. “You sure know how to make a good cup of coffee, Wheeler,” Eddie finally said, breaking the silence with a throw away comment. Not sticking around to see how she was going to react, Eddie gripped his cup and made a beeline for the exit.

He was almost to the door when Steve’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks; it even had Eddie turning around to face him once again. “See you around, Munson. Tell Wayne I said hello.” Steve looked triumphant and grossly beautiful as he stared Eddie down. Raising his cup in a silent salute, Eddie used that as his answer before actually running out of the shop.

The fresh air hitting Eddie’s face helped him to reset himself. His heart was beating rapidly, the thrum of it so heavy that he heard it in his faulty ears. A fine sheen of sweat had started to collect on his brow, sticking his hair to the skin there. Even the tips of his fingers felt a little tingly from the craziness of the situation. Now that he was a bit more removed from it, Eddie was floored to know that his uncle had inadvertently befriended the one boy Eddie hadn’t ever been able to stop thinking about. No amount of distance drove the visage of Steve Harrington from his brain. Leave it to his oblivious uncle to make the connection that Eddie craved to have himself.

Stewing on that for the rest of his drive to Wayne’s, Eddie took long, pensive sips of his incredibly tasty coffee. Though he used the compliment as a spring board out of the store, Eddie was genuine with his words. The beans were obviously high quality, picked with the sort of care only a person like Nancy Wheeler had. The press and subsequent grind of them left no remnants behind, creating a smooth and satisfying mouthfeel with each gulp. Eddie had admittedly lived in the big city for too long – most of the drivel they called coffee there was subpar, barely better than the swill that Wayne liked to cook up for himself. It only made sense that Eddie’s slow down came with a reminder that sometimes things were done their best in a place where care and love led the way. Chicago, despite all of its perks and pluses, was not that type of city.

Regardless of all his inner turmoil, Eddie perked right up when he pulled into the driveway of Wayne’s bungalow. His old man was excitedly standing by the screen door, eagerly waiting for Eddie to return. Adorably, Wayne was out of the door before Eddie put his van into park. The warm set of arms that wrapped around him the second he stepped down from the driver’s seat was one of the main things Eddie’s life had been missing – he knew the truth of that fact the second Wayne pulled him close. How had he gone so long without feeling his pseudo-father’s embrace?

“It’s so good to see you, Wayne,” Eddie said as they pulled away from each other. He kept his hands fisted in his uncle’s flannel shirt, unable to fully detach himself from their rejuvenated closeness. Wayne wasn’t any better off, both hands had moved to cup Eddie’s elbows, his grip light but determined to keep Eddie near all the same.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure,” Wayne slapped back, laughing through the real feelings encased in that sentiment. “I see you haven’t changed the way you wear your hair.”

And just like that, the distance of thirteen years no longer existed. Eddie leaned into the grief Wayne gave him about his even longer hair and the new collection of tattoos that Eddie added to his skin. He laughed and smiled and felt at home for the first time since he took off and never looked back. As they settled in with a beer and some surprisingly delicious Christmas cookies, Eddie tried to recall again why he ever thought stepping away from such a place was a good idea. He knew, rationally, that the feeling of welcome and the affection of being around a person that cared about him no matter what was pretty blinding. Still, Eddie couldn’t brush off the feeling of rightness that surrounded him.

At least, not since he stepped foot in that stupid coffee shop.

Eddie woke the next morning to the sound of loud knocking on the door. Staying perfectly still on the mattress, Eddie tried to silently will away the person disturbing his sleep. He’d been dead to the world for the first time in thirteen years, stubbornly, Eddie wasn’t ready to give up the satiated feeling.

Wayne, who could be the only person interrupting him so early, didn’t seem to care about the floaty haze of sleepiness that Eddie was chasing. In fact, the knocks that came next were louder and much more persistent than the first round. “Eddie, you need to get up, son. The timing belt in my truck is on the fritz again and I need a ride into school. Harrington called about a possible sub job and I want to check it out.”

“Wayne, I’m on vacation – “ Eddie tried to say, but was quickly stopped by a sharp, high pitched laugh.

“Well, I’m not. Welcome home, son. Get your ass up and give your old man a lift.”

There was no refusing an order like that. Eddie rolled over petulantly a couple of times before realizing his fate and getting up. He was slow to pull on his trusty pair of jeans and shrug into a flannel. Wayne knocked again when Eddie was finishing up the laces on his boots. “You sure know how to take your sweet time. Come on, Ed – I’m going to be late.” Wayne looked so serious saying those words that Eddie’s plan to be a little shit went by the wayside. Despite not really understanding the change in his uncle, Eddie liked what he was seeing. Wayne had a zest for life that Eddie never noticed in him before.

They were just pulling out of Wayne’s neighborhood when Eddie decided it was finally time he got a couple of answers. After all, it was the least Wayne could do after dragging him out of bed so goddamn early. Gripping the steering wheel tight, Eddie shifted into a cruising gear and let himself talk. “When did you start subbing? Steve Harrington was happy to let me know you’re one of his favorites.” Waiting a beat, Eddie tried to calm himself down before saying, “and when did you two become so close? He made it sound like you were buddies or something.”

Wayne’s chuckle meant that Eddie didn’t succeed in remaining cool and unaffected. Eddie turned his head more firmly towards the road to hide the blush his uncle’s reaction brought about. The old man already knew him so well, even with the thirteen year hiatus – Eddie didn’t need biology to continue to give him away.

There wasn’t any further teasing in the silent moments that followed. Eddie wondered if Wayne was simply going to ignore him when his uncle finally spoke up. “I got conned into volunteering at the elementary school a couple of years ago. This woman I was dating had grandchildren that were first and third graders there, so I went along with it. I met Nancy’s youngest boy, Evan, at the fall fair I was working a booth at. He had the brightest little smile, Eddie – just like you when you were a boy.” Wayne looked ethereal and happy, like that moment truly had changed his life. Eddie listened a little closer as Wayne continued. “I started volunteering more and more until one day, Steve asked if I’d be interested in becoming a substitute teacher.” The smile grew bigger, driving Wayne’s next point home even further. “It’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, son. I really enjoy working with the kids.”

Eddie didn’t need any further evidence past those words and the happiness radiating off of his uncle in waves. Nodding lightly, Eddie buried all of the other things he wanted to ask – what more could he really question when it came to his uncle’s life? Not being there meant not having much room to talk or suggest or even launch an interrogation. It made him warm and satisfied to know that Wayne had found something that brought him true and tangible joy – even if that meant having to spend any time at all with Steve Harrington. The small moments they were in each other’s presence were a hostile torture that Eddie wasn’t all that sure how he felt about.

As if the universe were listening to his thoughts, Eddie pulled up to Hawkins Elementary to the glorious sight of Principle Steve in action. The same glasses from the day before remained artfully pushed up his nose, but that was all Eddie could find of the man from the coffee shop. Denim was replaced with a dark khaki that accentuated the nice cut of Steve’s thighs. Eddie tried not to think too much about the pert swell of Steve’s ass in the fabric, though the struggle was real. A burgundy button up showcased pecs and biceps and the flash of muscular forearms that rolled up sleeves showed off so teasingly. If Wayne weren’t in the passenger seat, Eddie would’ve parked the car just to stare. It’d been so long and Steve Harrington truly had it going on.

Which meant, of course, that he had to be the worst kind of unobtainable. As he pulled into a parking space to let Wayne out, Eddie caught the tail end of an exchange between Nancy and Steve. Holding the most adorable little boy, Steve looked radiant, like he was right at home. The two obviously knew each other because the child perked up almost immediately. Nancy was smiling her own little grin as she watched the two of them. Then, the worst thing happened – Steve leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Nancy’s cheek. There was a second where the entirety of Eddie’s heart broke into tiny little pieces, though he only allowed the hurt to remain for a second. By the time Wayne unclicked his seatbelt and made to get out, Eddie had himself under control again – his heart and Steve Harrington be damned.

Not making any move to join Wayne outside of the car, Eddie was taken aback by his uncle’s expectant look – “you coming, son? I won’t be able to come back out to the car if they assign me a classroom.” Eddie wanted to shake his head and say no vehemently; after what he just saw, Eddie needed some alone time to cry a bit and lick his wounds. There was only so much heartbreak a person could take. Instead, Eddie shut off the car and followed his uncle into the school.

Despite knowing his uncle was popular with the students, Eddie wasn’t prepared for the welcome Wayne received. All of the kids they passed seemed to know him and the lady working the front desk practically lit up like a Christmas tree when Wayne smiled her way. It was odd to see a Munson received so well in the city of Hawkins – Eddie never would’ve left if he knew the family name he carried wasn’t going to continue to drag him down and through the mud.

Shaking that thought away, Eddie made to follow Wayne but was stopped by Steve Harrington’s torturously lovely voice. How had he managed to sneak up on Eddie again? Not having the willpower to keep pressing on, to ignore Steve and the way he made him feel, Eddie braced himself for another emotional roller coaster ride. Trying to be casual about it, Eddie pulled in a long breath before turning to meet the biggest tease of the century.

Steve looked even better up close. The dark maroon of his shirt brought out the paleness of his skin. That only worked to magnify the beauty marks and freckles Eddie so desperately wanted to map out. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Eddie’s fingers ached to be wrapped around his camera. The vision that Steve made deserved to be preserved on film. Quickly pushing through that urge, Eddie buckled down and did his best to remember his manners. “Hi, Steve. Long time no see.”

Eddie wanted to slap a hand over his face the moment the lame greeting left his mouth. It stood in the air much too long for Eddie’s taste, embarrassing him further. He already was a quivering mess, constantly making a fool out of himself wasn’t going to do Eddie any further good. Though, reminding himself that Steve wasn’t on the market should help to clear up the tripping over his own feet thing. Without the hope of something tangible, Eddie could live his life without trying to impress Steve.

Maybe.

Blinking back, Eddie managed to pick up the last of Steve’s sarcastic – “That’s the magic of living in a small town. We’re bound to run into each other everywhere.”

Already sure he missed half of what Steve said before, Eddie bit into his bottom lip and worked hard to focus. The last thing he wanted to do was make Steve think he wasn’t interested in their conversation. Despite knowing all was lost, Eddie was pathetic enough to still want to revel in Steve’s presence. His heart could take the beating if it meant getting to look upon the work of art Principle Harrington was. Eddie was only a man, after all. He wasn’t above taking the least he could get while the going was still hot.

“Right – how could I possibly forget?” Eddie smiled through the anxiety of those words as their truth settled. They were worth it, however – Steve’s lips quirked into a soft little smile.

“Thirteen years is a long time to be gone, Eddie. The mind lets go of little things like that all the time.” Steve looked serious for a second then that cheeky grin of his returned. “I’m just kidding. Small town life is inescapable, no matter how long you try and run.” There was a moment of silence where Steve stared at Eddie, those hazel eyes taking him in like a specimen under a microscope. Just as quickly as that gaze was upon him, it was gone in a blink – Steve looked over Eddie’s shoulder and beyond, his attention elsewhere already.

Eddie thought that was the end of it, his brief two minutes of connection with his coveted crush, but Steve surprised him by speaking again. “Your uncle continuously bragged on your photography work over the years.” Steve emphasized his words by pointing behind Eddie. It took turning his entire body to see what Steve was gesturing at. Though, the effort was worth it. There, on the far wall, was one of Eddie’s more famous pieces. The far off look Steve had just moments before suddenly made a lot more sense.

Looking the picture over, Eddie thought fondly about the moment captured so beautifully. After a concert in Mexico, Corroded Coffin had their usual meet and greet with fans. Eddie joined in by taking the fans’ Polaroids and official snaps for the band. In between a moment of chaos where one set of VIPs made room for another, Eddie noticed a young boy waiting with his family in line. For some reason, Eddie felt compelled to capture the absolute joy on that boy’s face. Eddie hadn’t ever been so excited to get into the dark room after a show. Months later, that very photo won him a couple of different awards and some noteworthy attention. Of all his work, Eddie was secretly proud of that off the wall accomplishment the most. Though, Eddie never knew that Wayne was, too.

Ducking his head to hide the immense satisfaction he suddenly felt, Eddie willed the blush creeping up his neck to halt in place. When it didn’t, Eddie shifted his focus back to Steve – Steve, who was staring at Eddie like he hung the moon – Steve, who, not even half an hour ago, was kissing Nancy Wheeler’s cheek with a child in his arms. Thankfully, that sudden flash of reality was grounding, much more than enough to bring Eddie back from the floaty yet totally unattainable sense of reality he was trekking towards.

“He’s a proud uncle, what can I say?” The words broke the odd silence both men were lingering in. Even Steve seemed to blink back to himself.

“With every right to be. You’re talented, Eddie.” Steve looked genuine as those words spilled from his mouth. Even more so when he spoke again – “Would you be willing to pick up some work while you’re here? I know you’re on vacation, but the school really could use a bit of a makeover.”

Dumbfounded by the offer, Eddie tried not to sound silly in his reply. “You want me to take photos for you? Portraiture isn’t my usual bag, Harrington.”

Eddie watched Steve turn his eyes back to the photo on the wall before saying anything. Already knowing he wasn’t going to be able to say no, Eddie steeled himself for whatever argument Steve was going to throw his way. Surprisingly, the principle went right for Eddie’s heart. “The winter festival is coming up and the kids get so excited. You’d have the perfect subjects at their very best. Just think of all the candid stuff you’ll be able to get.”

Done in and completely aware of it, Eddie readily agreed. He was smart enough to know that whatever argument Steve came up with next would be even more thorough and heart string pulling than the first. It seemed to be his best bet to simply give in and hang on for the ride. After all, Eddie was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Despite the tiny little detail of Steve being unavailable, Eddie wasn’t above using the events he’d be working to spend a little extra time with his lifelong crush. When all was said and done, Eddie was the one that had to deal with the fallout of unrequited feelings. If he wanted to play with fire a bit before getting burned, well, that was no one’s business but his own.

Bundled up in his leather jacket and a borrowed beanie from Wayne, Eddie met up with the Hawkins Elementary kids at the tree farm. The day was beautiful enough for Eddie to feel eager about pulling out his camera. After talking it over with Wayne, Eddie was kind of honored to be tasked with such artistic creation. He’d been more than ready to branch out past sweaty guys on stage for a long time now. A project that obviously meant a lot to the people involved in the school was a great stepping stone towards work in other areas. It didn’t hurt, either, that Eddie was home during the most picturesque time of the year. No matter what Eddie shot of his subjects, the pictures were bound to be beautiful.

Upon arriving, Eddie tossed a cursory nod Steve’s way before getting right to work. The entire tree farm had been rented out for the school, so Eddie had his choice of chaos to document. For a while, Eddie walked up and down the tree lines, snapping whatever moved him or caught his attention. There was a wonderful shot of a group of small children that were gathered around a big tree looking up at it with awe that Eddie was giddy to develop later on. It’d been way too long since Eddie felt that sort of excitement towards his work. It felt too soon to revel in it but Eddie was genuinely ecstatic about the needed change in attitude.

Still riding that high, Eddie wasn’t prepared for the storybook scene he walked into a couple of hours into the event. Just his luck, Eddie rounded a corner, only to bump into Nancy and Steve talking softly amongst themselves. They looked so cozy that Eddie wanted to shout and scream, to cause a scene – anything to break up the touching little moment happening between the king and his queen. Gritting his teeth, Eddie nodded at them both before powerwalking in the opposite direction he needed to go. The trek back through the trees he already explored was a complete waste of his time, yet anything was better than playing witness to the literal soap opera happening before him.

Tucking himself back into his work, Eddie pointed and clicked until his fingers were numb from all the exposure to the cold. He pushed through it until the tip of the finger he needed to shoot was tingling. Finally able to look up from his trance, Eddie couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous everything around him was. Fresh snow capped the trees and shined brightly in the sun. Chicago was too urban of a place to get a view that wholistic and natural. Usually, Eddie looked out his window to see the next apartment building over or something crazy happening out on the sidewalk. He had to ride his bike or take a cab to the parts of the city that had any foliage at all. Letting himself dwell too much on what the pang in his chest meant was not what Eddie needed in that moment; so, he shook himself out of the haze of dreams and wants to step back into reality.

A reality where, after spending an entire day trying to avoid him, Steve Harrington found Eddie, anyway. It seemed as if that smile and the infuriating man attached to it was following him everywhere. Eddie was too preoccupied with his own internal struggle of not finding Steve absolutely adorable to conjure up a safe and not completely obvious escape strategy – in other words, he was stuck. Stuck and cornered talking to the one person he wanted more than anything else but couldn’t have. The refreshed knowledge of that sad truth made even being around him too hard to bare. Especially after seeing him with Nancy again. The hurt wasn’t new but the scrape against bloodied flesh was raw and fresh. Gritting his teeth to tamper down all of that misery, Eddie tried to smile in Steve’s direction. “Enjoying yourself, Mr. Harrington?”

Steve stared at him for a second, almost as if he were trying to clock Eddie and his attitude, before straightening up and slipping into his normally suave persona. “Abundantly,” Steve said with an air of sarcasm to his tone. He looked over his shoulder, then leaned in to get closer to Eddie. He cupped his mouth like one would when speaking a secret. “I’m allergic to pine. Being here makes my skin crawl for days.”

Taken by surprise, Eddie was unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. The noise was loud and rich, in an octave that even Eddie could hear. “Sorry – that’s just… ironic. Why is this one of the activities you plan if you have to down a couple of Benadryl to get through?”

The contemplative look that flitted across Steve’s face was too good a thing to miss out on. With lightening quick hands, Eddie brought his camera up and snapped a handful of shots before Steve caught on and decided to frown or purse his lips unattractively. Eddie didn’t need to look at the back of the camera to know he’d just taken the best images of the evening – he felt their greatness down in the very marrow of his bones. Smiling at the thought, Eddie shifted his attention back to the subject at hand.

Too much of a gentleman to mention it, Steve didn’t say a word about Eddie’s chaotic interruption. He simply smiled a little wider as he went on to talk about the school board and the many decisions that Steve actually didn’t get to make despite being the person literally responsible for the children always being volleyed back and forth and voted over. Despite himself, Eddie listened closely, even felt a bit bad for a principal that just wanted to make positive changes without the means to do so. He wanted to joke about Steve’s ability to charm anyone, to say something about that dazzling smile always getting him his way, but the tone of the conversation didn’t call for that. Eddie was certain an ill-timed joke would make Steve more upset about the situation, not less.

“Keep chomping at the bit, Steve. From the sounds of it, you’re looking to do some real good and make a true difference. That has to mean something to someone. You just have to find the right person.” He gripped his camera in his hands tightly, trying to tamper down on the urge to continue to talk and talk. Instead, Eddie rolled his shoulders and let some of the anxious tension go out into the universe. The urge to babble abated, so Eddie felt confident to speak again. “You’re obviously good at your job, Harrington. Keep that up and things are bound to change.”

Steve was silent for a long moment following Eddie’s last statement. He simply looked over at Eddie unblinkingly. Just as it was starting to get a little eerie, Steve perked up. It was like a switch had been flipped or something. Now full of energy, Steve shifted on his feet until he was suddenly reaching out into the space between them. Shockingly warm fingers were brushing against Eddie’s cheek before he had a chance to brace himself. Eddie tried not to go still or lean into the touch, though he wasn’t all that sure of his success. Steve continued to stare at him, even as he drew his hand away, even as Eddie sucked in a long breath to try and get his heart rate under control.

“You had a – “ Steve started, finally breaking their eye contact to look at his empty hand. “You have snow on your cheek.”

Dumbfounded and a little bit turned on by the weird sequence of events, Eddie nodded his head in thanks. Words were not his friend at the moment – even if he had access to them, Eddie didn’t know what he’d even say. Of course, hitting his knees and begging for more was always an option. Though, taken guys didn’t always react the best to that sort of public display of lust. Something in Eddie’s gut said that Steve probably wouldn’t be THAT opposed, though. For someone committed to one of the most beautiful people in the city of Hawkins, Steve certainly was loose with his attention. Since starting their conversation, Eddie was certain Steve’s eyes hadn’t left him. What did that mean coming from a person that was already someone else’s?

Eddie pondered that question all the way home and well into the next evening. While Wayne was at work, Eddie took up space in a local dark room. Despite never coming back to Hawkins, Eddie didn’t lose touch with all of his friends there. Jonathan Byers, the man who originally put Eddie in the path of his very first camera, was more than happy to lend out his developing space while Eddie was in town. It was a great excuse for the two of them to catch up and talk shop while Eddie got ahead of his work. Steve wasn’t expecting any of his prints until after Christmas, but the excitement coursing through Eddie was too much. If he didn’t put his hands on his photos right from the start, the creative juices could fly right out the window again. Knowing himself and the way his artistic drive worked, Eddie understood the need to wrap himself up in his shots from the get-go. Luckily, Eddie opted out of doing things the new, high tech digital way, and still needed to tactilely work with his images. The excuse to be in the dark, by himself – Eddie always enjoyed the call of film over digital for that reason alone.

The hands-on nature of the job was enough for Eddie to push his quandary with Steve away for a little while. His eyes lit up with excitement and pride as each of the shots Eddie was stoked for the previous day came to life before him. The photo of all the kids gathered around the lot’s giant tree was as gorgeous as Eddie figured it would be – and so was the snap of Steve. Eddie managed to keep him out of his head all the way through the developing process; the mindless nature of culling, printing, and soaking the film took up a lot of brain bytes, almost to the point where thinking about anything else could be detrimental to the ritual. In this case, it wasn’t – Eddie was extra careful with the print of Steve’s smiling face. He soaked it for a couple of extra seconds and took great joy in watching the life of the image overtake the blank whiteness of the printing paper. When it was complete, Eddie hung the photo up to dry, staring dazedly at it. Despite himself, Eddie didn’t get any more work done that afternoon.

Coming out of his Steve induced haze just in time, Eddie took down all of his creations and tucked them into a long brown envelope. Thankfully it was dark as Eddie left Jonathan’s dark room – he wouldn’t need to worry about the sunlight staining the images. With a surprising tenderness and care, Eddie placed the envelope on the passenger seat, watching it with hawk-like vision as he took turns and navigated his way back through town. Eddie toiled over whether to bring them in with him when he pulled up to the elementary school but thought better of it. He would need both hands free to shoot the Christmas play that was next on the work docket, anyway.

The auditorium was decorated to the nines. Upon opening the door, Eddie had to bite down on his tongue to hold back the gasp. In short, the makeshift theater looked like Christmas had reared back and vomited all over every surface. There were hanging snowflakes coming down from the ceiling, while every inch of the walls seemed to be covered with some version of tacky garland. Fairy lights of all hues of white were strung up to give off a haloing glow to contrast the harsh brightness coming from the stage. Eddie blinked a couple of times to finally find the magic in it all. To a small child, the plethora of decorations probably seemed like a typical part of the season. All of the kids funneling out onto the stage were much too young to understand the commercial idiocy that adorned the walls. By the time the show started, Eddie found himself appreciating the gaudiness – after taking a peek at his latest shots and their quality, Eddie couldn’t care less about the backdrop or the environment they were in. The kids and their energy shot so well that happiness and excitement were tangible in every image Eddie looked at, no matter the location.

As the show came to an end, Eddie fled to the back of the auditorium in hopes of staying out of everyone’s way (and avoiding a certain someone, though he’d never admit to it). Eddie worked to break his equipment down and put it away while proud parents and exuberant kids passed him by. He tried to smile and return each of their waves but the sheer abundance of attention felt like too much. Ducking his head to get the job done was much more efficient and had the added benefit of allowing him to hide. Eddie figured he did an okay job of it – he managed to get his flash and all of his lenses away before someone demanded his attention again.

“You’re pretty sneaky, Munson,” Eddie heard Steve say behind him. Straightening up, Eddie turned to face Hawkins Elementary’s principle. Like usual, Eddie’s breath caught at the sight before him. Steve wasn’t quite as casual as Eddie saw him that first day but the button up shirt and khakis were gone, too. Instead, Steve had on an obnoxious gingham sweater and dark blue jeans. He looked every inch an infuriatingly attractive dad. Eddie wondered if Steve’s kids understood the magnitude of their father’s appeal. They probably never would, not with him being the principal and all.

Shaking his head of all those thoughts, Eddie did his best to focus in on what Steve actually said. “It’s part of the job, Mr. Harrington. You can’t see the photographer flitting around at the front of the stage. I’m kind of like Santa in that aspect – everyone is better off not knowing when or where or how I managed to get the shots I do. There’d be no magic, otherwise.” Eddie found himself smiling then, those fresh words coming from his mouth more true than anything else. It’d been such a long time since Eddie saw his art for what it actually was instead of the hustle it became. There was nothing like surprising an audience with a shot that no one expected.

“Well, Mr. Claus, I’m happy you ended up making it. The show was way too good to miss.” Steve’s eyes were alight with amusement and mischief. Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at the look. Only someone ballsy enough to take a principal gig could make a joke like that.

“You’re not wrong. That last solo was killer.”

There was a moment of silence where Eddie went back to packing up his things. Upon turning his back to Steve, Eddie figured the other man would head out like the rest of the crowd – after an hour’s worth of listening to crooning, escape was a basic human necessity. The fact that Steve was still standing there when Eddie was done confused him even more. First the lingering looks and now the incessant need to always be around – if Eddie hadn’t seen Steve and Nancy together with his own eyes, he would’ve been questioning the soundness of their relationship. Most happy people didn’t flirt with the returned town outcast.

Going one step further to totally screw Eddie up, Steve politely invited Eddie out for hot chocolate. He used the guise of wanting to see some of the photos Eddie took already, but they didn’t actually end up looking at any of them. The minutes were passed with easy conversation and moans of satisfaction as Eddie drank not one but two mugs of the best hot chocolate he’d ever had. Steve told him about college and getting into the teaching game. He spoke about being a student athlete and getting hurt, becoming one of the old foogies in his group of friends, even about the reunion he went to with his basketball buddies every year. Yet, never once did he mention kids or a wife. Eddie spent more time wondering why that was than trying to reciprocate with his own half of the conversation. Aside from not having much to contribute (Eddie’s life had been pretty much the same for a decade), Eddie simply liked to listen to Steve talk. It was a beautiful thing that made Eddie’s chest tighten with warmth and want and a new sort of affection that was both foreign and scary. It took genuine effort to push that feeling down and away when they parted later that night.

Still so confused and done in by all that was happening with Steve, Eddie wasn’t at all prepared for Wayne’s annual game night. Despite a thirteen year gap in being home, Twisted Christmas (as Wayne had taken to affectionately calling their big night) was an old tradition. Eddie remembered a couple of Christmas before moving in with Wayne permanently where his parents and grandparents even took part. Usually excited for the evening, Eddie tried hard not to dread spending time with the people he really did care about. Being back home reminded him of all the friendships (or could be ones) that he left behind. Jonathan and Will Byers were the type of guys that Eddie saw himself spending copious amounts of time with. Maxine, who strictly went by Max now, was a spitfire, still filled to the very brim with personality and spunk. There were so many humans in Hawkins that Eddie was already dreading leaving behind. Even a particular one that never seemed to stop haunting Eddie’s steps.

Because the world was out to get him (or maybe it was Wayne), Eddie obviously drew Steve’s name out of the hat when it was his turn to pull for a partner. It only made sense that the person torturing him unknowingly at every turn would be his only hope for salvation throughout the night. With Eddie’s luck, they were either going to win the whole thing or completely flop belly up. He had more random run ins with Steve when actively trying to avoid him than ever before. The odds had to be in his favor.

And thankfully, they were. Eddie dug deep and worked extra hard to stay focused on the tasks at hand. Steve dragged him through beer pong and quarters so Eddie could really shine during all of the card games. They ran the Spades table for so much of the night that Wayne cut that tournament short on account of everyone getting their asses handed to them. At the end of the night that coveted trophy Eddie never managed to win before was finally in his hands. It was made better by the fact that Steve was crowded into his side, beaming with a similar happiness. Eddie had to look away lest he use the ease of the moment to palm Steve’s cheeks and kiss him soundly. Nancy’s presence on the other side of the room helped dispel the urge, too. Despite being wild and rambunctious and admittedly crazy, Eddie wasn’t a homewrecker.

Except, that thought was easy to push away a couple of hours later. After cementing their victory and the party ending, Eddie was too wound up to sit around and do nothing with Wayne. Steve seemed just as excited to get out and celebrate, so he called up Robin and Chrissy to invite them out for the evening. Seeing Chrissy swollen with a baby was such a shock that Eddie completely bypassed Robin talking about their marriage a couple of years ago. Eddie knew that time marched on and people changed but the visual representation of it knocked him off kilter. People their age had families, babies and wives and commitments for the holidays. Being a drifter suddenly didn’t have the same shine to it as before. Not for the first time, Eddie felt the sharp pang of loneliness in the pit of his stomach.

Maybe that was why he allowed himself to do it. Getting drunk was one thing but allowing Steve to drift closer as the night went on was another. Eddie wasn’t strong enough to fight off the closeness but he should’ve been on his toes, should’ve been watching his own back. But, those thoughts made little difference as Steve got closer and closer, as he pulled Eddie into him and pressed their lips together. The warning bell going off in the back of his head wasn’t louder than the raging want that threatened to consume Eddie from the inside out. He was just drunk and desperate enough to climb into the back of a cab with Steve Harrington in tow. A better man would’ve sent him home to Nancy, but Eddie never claimed that title for his own.

For a while, none of the havoc they were wreaking with their actions actually mattered. Eddie was too preoccupied with the taste of Steve on his tongue to care. Like most guys who got way too much action in their teens, Steve kissed like a dream. His lips were eager and soft against Eddie’s. With every push in, Steve countered with a shift of his head or the clench of his hand on whatever part of Eddie he could reach. The twist of their tongues made the onslaught of want flooding Eddie’s brain overtake all of him. He didn’t notice the single man’s apartment they were walking into. He didn’t take into account that only Steve’s stuff was littered around the floor. The only thing that Eddie noticed was the harsh press of Steve’s lips and the rise and fall of heavy breaths.

The two of them untangled from each other long enough to shrug off coats and shirts so bare skin was on display. Eddie didn’t need any further enticing – his hands made quick work of surveying all of the new land on display for him. Clever fingers pinched at nipples and traced the valleys and crevices of Steve’s ribs. The hair artfully splayed along Steve’s lower stomach got too much attention because Eddie had imagined the softness there for much longer than he cared to admit. They were both panting and completely undone by the time Eddie unbuttoned Steve’s pants and stuffed his hand inside.

Steve’s moan echoed throughout Eddie’s head, making him even more desperate to touch. In the years since losing some of his hearing, Eddie hadn’t thought about noise or sound the same way. His touch pulling long groans from Steve’s lips was like music – the loudest, most enticing beat that Eddie had ever heard. The pitch of it didn’t matter when Eddie could lean forward and feel the tangible pleasure in Steve’s chest. His lips were ravenous as his hand worked to stroke Steve from root to tip and back again. Eddie did his best to remember the feeling of Steve in his grip, the softness of his skin despite the rigid nature of his beautiful cock. There were too many things swirling around for Eddie to truly grasp onto anything, however. Especially when Steve dragged himself back enough to say “wait, you too” in a wrecked voice. Focusing following that was much more difficult.

It took a couple extra minutes for Eddie to comply with Steve’s huffed out request. Steve’s cock was just starting to bead pre-cum at the tip, making the glide of Eddie’s hand much smoother. The years of imaging the weight and size of Steve didn’t do the man justice – with so much before him to explore, turning his attention towards anything else was next to impossible.

Though, it ended up being worth it – Steve was impatient enough to tangle their hands up in a lame attempt to get into Eddie’s pants, too. Sucking in a breath at the mere thought, Eddie finally got with the program. He felt bereft without the warm heat of Steve’s length in his hand. The seconds it took to undo his own pants and shove them down were torturous. Now that Eddie had his initial taste, trying not to come back for more was going to be a problem. Already, the small touches they were sharing weren’t enough. At least, that’s what Eddie thought until Steve took Eddie into his own grip and joined in on the fun.

Sometime throughout their desperate song and dance, Eddie’s fingers ended up braided with Steve’s, both of their cocks in that extra tight grip. Their lips were pressed together, though no kissing was happening. They were simply sharing breaths and moans and pleas for more and tighter and faster. Eddie’s mind was hazy at best but even the drunkenness couldn’t hold off the geyser of heat that bubbled up and boiled over without prompting or permission. A surprisingly tender groan of Steve’s name fell from Eddie’s lips – his orgasm sweeping over him like a tidal wave. The weight of it held him under just long enough for the ropes of cum covering his bare chest to feel like the biggest and most satisfactory relief Eddie had ever experienced. It was gloriously capped off by Steve stiffening against him and following him over the edge.

Eddie blinked awake the next morning to a blinding headache and his phone ringing. Turning over onto his hip, panic started to settle in the pit of Eddie’s belly. Instead of the blank wall of Wayne’s guestroom staring back at him, Eddie was met with Steve’s back, instead. All of the sudden, every moment from the night before came rushing back, practically drowning Eddie in all the stupid mistakes he made. Very careful, because Steve was still sleeping like a rock next to him, Eddie got up and out of bed. He hauled in a couple of long breaths to calm himself, to stop the ridiculous regret threatening to take him under. Despite the situation he found himself in, Eddie didn’t normally partake in such illicit affairs. He felt like a hypocrite to say never but Steve was the exception – always had been, always would be.

Hurrying to dress and get the hell out of dodge, Eddie didn’t snoop or explore. In all of his running around, the thought of leaving a note didn’t even occur to him. All that Eddie wanted to do was get away before shit hit the fan. Between humiliation and the desperate desire to do it again, Eddie felt all sorts of twisted up and confused. So much so that he absently answered his phone on the way out to the curb to wait on his uber. The voice on the other side of the phone slowed him down, made Eddie take a step back to actually use his brain and think.

“Hey, Ed. I’m so glad you finally picked up.” Eddie didn’t need to check the caller ID to know that Gareth was on the other side of the line. After making music with him for years and being friends even longer, Eddie recognized the way he said his words and articulated his phrases. He didn’t attempt to hide the shocked noise that came out of his mouth.

Or the expletive – “Gareth – what the fuck do you want, man?”

There was a laugh on the other end of the line, then silence when Eddie didn’t return the gesture. For a second, Eddie thought about hanging up – it would be the right kind of poetic justice that he figured he deserved. Instead, he waited for Gareth to speak. After fucking up Eddie’s world, contacting him at all had to mean something – had to be important somehow.

“Uh, right. First off, I wanted to say sorry. Jeff and Kurt were twenty steps ahead of me when everything happened. It doesn’t excuse our behavior at all but I didn’t know. Not until it was too late.”

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that? I’ve been your best friend for years and you let them replace me. Me, Gareth. I fucking started Corroded Coffin for fucks sake!” Noticing how loud he’d gotten, Eddie bit down into his lower lip, tempering himself. “Tell me what you want, Gareth. Now’s not really the best time.”

“We want you back, Eddie.”

The following conversation kept Eddie company throughout the rest of his ride back to Wayne’s. Gareth told him about Amber and her torrid love affair with not just Jeff but Kurt, too. It was funny to hear his friend recall all of the dramatic breakdowns that happened their first week of touring. Eddie didn’t stop himself from laughing or saying shit like “serves you right” as the tale unfolded. The final fight was the knock in the head everyone needed to remember their loyalty. Though, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder if everything Gareth said was just some elaborate rouse to make up for the fact that Amber was terrible, that the band had made a mistake and needed him back. Not hearing that by the time Gareth was finished felt like an even bigger kick in the pants. Despite his want for this very opportunity just weeks ago, Eddie couldn’t put his heart into saying yes. Not with so much going on in the other parts of his life.

Eddie ended the phone call with a promise to call Gareth back when he made his decision. The mere fact that Eddie didn’t say yes right from the get-go said a lot but having an exit strategy was important, too. With everything that just happened with Steve, Eddie might not have much of a choice. He couldn’t be the person that broke apart a home, no matter how much he wanted to.

A couple of days passed before Eddie resurfaced from the emotional storm he found himself smack dab in the center of. He holed himself away and refused to talk to anyone, to answer calls, to even eat the food that Wayne set out for him. The torrential downpour of so many things happening at once was already too much to handle – inviting anything (or anyone) else into his space just wasn’t an option.

Especially Wayne. The man had a certain sixth sense when it came to Eddie. Walking into the bungalow after his night with Steve, Eddie didn’t even have to say anything. Wayne simply wrapped him up in a hug and pulled him close. Eddie needed the comfort, so he leaned into the embrace. It didn’t last for long, though. Instead of sticking around to explain the situation or ask for advice, Eddie isolated himself. He curled up into a stinky little ball and tried not to think about anything.

The third day of solitude did not go unbothered, however. Eddie heard the door open before Wayne’s booming voice drove him out of bed. “Get your ass up, son. I got you some work today. You need to be at Hawkins Hill in an hour.”

Feeling a sense of deja vu, Eddie turned over in bed to shoot his uncle a seething look. “Not today, Wayne. I can’t take a decent picture right now. My mind’s not right.”

Wayne’s eyebrows furrowed at the sound of Eddie’s sulky voice. Eddie watched him scrunch his nose, noticed his features soften. It was pitying and Eddie couldn’t stand it. “No, no wait – I’ll do it. Just – I need a minute to get my shit together.” His uncle’s sigh of satisfaction meant that he’d been had and bested. At that moment in time, Eddie couldn’t bring himself to care. He needed to use the forward momentum Wayne’s pity made him feel to get through the day and onto the next. At least, when all was said and done, Eddie could make a little money for his time.

Eddie regretted his decision to take the job immediately upon arriving at the hill. The very vivid sight of Nancy Wheeler standing there with Steve made his stomach heave. Stuck between immense guilt and a silent rage for Wayne and his manipulative ways, Eddie made slow work of getting out of the car. He practically crawled to the trunk where he clumsily assembled his camera. Why his uncle would do such a thing to him was beyond Eddie, but he planned to find out and make the man’s life an absolute hell because of it. Taking a deep breath so he didn’t slam the trunk harder than needed, Eddie straightened himself up, plastered on a smile, and went to meet his fate.

Walking up to see Dustin Henderson with his arm wrapped around Nancy’s shoulders was not what Eddie expected when he approached the group waiting for him. He looked between the three adults with so much confusion his head spun. Unable to process the situation, Eddie wordlessly turned right back around and practically sprinted towards his van. His professional reputation be damned – Eddie was missing something and didn’t have the time nor energy to puzzle out what it was. He’d been locked up in his room feeling guiltier than ever. With a completely different situation in front of his face, Eddie’s mind quickly replaced that feeling with shame and embarrassment, instead.

Steve, ever the hero, didn’t give Eddie any space or time to run away completely. “Eddie, wait – “

Eddie stopped in his tracks and turned around sharply, a frown on his face. “What is there to wait for? I’m such an idiot. I thought you and Nancy – that those kids were yours. I’ve been head over heels in love with you, hating myself for it.”

“I didn’t realize you misunderstood the situation until it was too late. Eddie, I’m sorry. Misleading you, even if it wasn’t on purpose, was never the objective.” Steve looked defeated, like he too was deflated like a popped balloon. He tried to smile in Eddie’s direction, though – at least he still had enough hope to do that. “I’m their godfather. Dustin is my best friend and those kids feel so much like mine. When he’s away, I help Nancy with the workload. Little Evan is a handful.”

Laughing, because Eddie had come to know the chaos that was Nancy’s youngest pretty intimately. Like Steve, the little boy was Wayne’s favorite. Throughout their interactions, Eddie got to know Evan better than most of the adults he interacted with. Too bad Eddie didn’t have the foresight to ask the poor kid who his daddy was.

“I’m so embarrassed, Steve. Does everyone know how stupid I am?”

Not answering verbally, Steve closed the space between them to sweep Eddie up into his warm arms. He kissed Eddie’s nose before nodding lightly, his face pinched with affectionate entertainment. “Yes, but we all think it’s cute. Dustin is very flattered by the ego boost – if he can score someone in my league – “ Steve trailed off, saving his friend the humiliation of finishing that statement.

Despite himself, or maybe because of his ridiculousness, Eddie smiled.

One Year Later

The Christmas fair was in full swing – Steve was very firmly wearing his principal pants while Eddie enjoyed the freedom of wandering around at will. The little beings that usually clung to his leg were off somewhere with their mother, trying to con her into buying a corn dog or a second helping of cotton candy. Nancy corralled the kids for a little while to give Eddie a few minutes of peace to work. Since moving back to Hawkins, Eddie took up the mantle of town photographer, capturing all of his neighbor’s memories and triumphs. Though it was a far reach from his former position, Eddie appreciated the flexibility of not being on tour nine months out of the year. Every day brought him something new while the opportunity to work with those he loved never changed. For Eddie, after years of loneliness and not fitting in, the job was picture perfect.

Bringing up his camera to capture a soft moment between Robin and her youngest daughter, Eddie was reminded of his good fortune once again. In the past year of existing, more laughter, fun, and happiness lingered in Eddie’s life. He made friends with fellow creatives like Robin, who ran the local radio station, and Lucas Sinclair, who painted in the studio where Eddie rented his dark room space. The people he always imagined hating him quickly became extended family that never blinked an eye at him and Steve together. No matter how much Eddie learned about Steve and his love, the doubt always lingered.

Of course, all Eddie had to do now was look down at the smooth tungsten on his left ring finger. As Eddie snapped another couple shots of Chrissy and Dustin chatting with each other, Eddie vividly remembered the complete feeling that struck him when Steve hit one knee and asked him to be his forever. The happy looks on his family’s faces constantly reminded him of that joy. Later, when Steve waited for Eddie at the end of the aisle, he hoped to see similar looks to cling to and recall.

Like the universe was listening to him, Steve appeared out of nowhere, his arms wrapping around Eddie’s shoulders from behind. Leaning back into him, Eddie gave himself over to the happiness coursing through him. The kiss on his forehead had Eddie looking up, a soft smile overtaking his lips.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson/steve harrington #steddie fics #my fics #bobbie writes #and my heart ran away from me

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vinbee631 · 1 year

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7 - Ever Since I Was a Kid, I’ve Been a Brooding Basket Case

Prodigal Sons and Daughters Alike

Remus wasn’t the only one having a great first day. The others had gone their separate ways at the start of the day, and while their classes and schedules were extremely different, they were unique and extremely fun in their own ways.

Chapter title from I Was Never Young by of Montreal. Fantastic band, fantastic song. Fantastic chapter? Remains to be seen

TW: Vague description of panic attack

Janus had spent the first half of the morning getting introduced to his fellow castmates for the first musical production the school was putting on. Auditions had been over the summer, along with auditions to actually get into school, so it was interesting to see others who had the same commitment as he did.

Logan had enrolled in a music production class right off the bat, so the first part of his class time involved no music-making whatsoever, not that he was upset about it. The second part was all music, anyway, so it was a nice balance.

Roman had started the day off with dance improv, of all things, and he had teamed up with a group of classmates quickly turning into friends to come up with the routine that won honorary first prize in the class. Riding off of that high, his surprisingly intense ballet basics course passed quickly, but with a lot of memorable information and notes, he should probably move from his brain to a real piece of paper.

And Patton had cooked, all day! Or, well, all morning. Fortunately, he did not have to make himself his own lunch, as the prospect seemed a little bit tiring after working for about four hours straight.

Speaking of lunch, it was just about time. The last period of the morning was finishing up, and students were piling in. Patton was currently trying to track down the entirety of his dorm group so they could sit together, and that was much easier said than done.

There were limited seats in the lunchroom, so they really needed to find each other soon. Then, Roman sent a selfie with him, his brother, and a seemingly very unwilling to be photographed Janus, with the caption ‘waiting for y’all !!!’

He huffed fondly at the image, sending a few emojis before starting his way down the hall to the cafeteria.

Although, today had been a very, very long day already. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to jump into the busiest part of the school without taking a quick breather. So, he did just that, taking a quick detor downstairs to the music hall.

He’d been walking through this place since he had been old enough to do so on his own. Contrary to what many of his incessantly curious classmates thought, he hadn’t lived here his entire life. His mom had taken a break from teaching for a few years to raise him, and when he was seven and could attend school of his own, his grandparents stepped up to care for him in the evenings so his parents could both do what they loved.

From the jumps between houses and rides from school to daycares to impromptu visits to friends' houses, Patton spent a lot of scattered time at the school. He knew all the shortcuts from one class to another, each scratched initial in the woodwork, and most importantly, the hallways he would never be caught wandering in.

Despite the overall accepting nature of the school, kids could be mean. And Patton was at one point, very, very small. He’d found ways to entertain himself alone, without accidentally running into teens who would chuckle at his size and age difference.

He sighed, brushing off the negative memories and ducking into the practice room corridor with a small smile. He hadn’t wandered down here in a while. It was nice to be back for a bit.

As he continued to wander, he glanced into the doorways, taking stock of the various music stand arrangements and chairs, none of which he had found were very comfortable to sit in.

About six doors down, however, he was shocked to find someone in one of the rooms, following the piano music propped up in front of a school keyboard. And hey, he knew that someone! Steeling himself for a slightly awkward but worthwhile conversation, he carefully knocked before nudging the unlocked door open with a smile.

“Hey, Virgil!”

…

Unlike everyone else, Virgil’s morning had been something of a nightmare. Don’t get him wrong, his teachers were nice enough, and at the very least, understood the horridness of icebreaker exercises. So, most of the morning he had been able to spend being productive instead of faking friendly conversation with people he didn’t know.

That was about where his luck stopped, however.

Syllabus sheets were painfully vague, usually accompanied by no sort of curriculum, just whatever his teachers thought best suited their students that year. Rules were lax, if they existed at all, and even his class schedule did not always guarantee he had to attend class, or that there would be something to work on every day.

To most of his classmates, these were all amazing things, things that were normally sought out for and never given in public schools.

They were also making Virgil extremely anxious.

He sighed in defeat, fidgeting with his backpack straps as he wound through the hallways. If he was going to make it through the semester with his sanity intact, he needed to find his own structure

Instead of bothering with the crowded lunchroom, he took a detour up the stairs to some of the soundproof practice rooms. No one was gonna be up there right now, it was perfect.

Every room was empty that he could see, so he had the liberty to select a room with ample functioning music stands and one that was fitted with a keyboard in case the urge struck him later.

He supposed he should have known better than to assume his alone time wasn’t too good to be true.

It was but ten minutes later when somebody came knocking on the door. At first, he was concerned he wasn’t allowed to be in there, when the knocking immediately turned into the sound of the door opening, but he was relieved (and simultaneously frustrated) to see one of his roommates in the doorway.

“Hey, Virgil!” The student nearly grimaced at the cheerful greeting. He didn’t have a clue what this kid’s name was, yet he was already starting to chat with him like they were good friends.

It was disorienting, especially when all he wanted was to be left alone for the first time all day.

“It’s good to see ya! I was… well, kinda just wandering around before lunch, and I just wanted to make sure you knew that started about ten minutes ago!”

Virgil nodded dismissively. “Why don’t you go get some then?” he muttered gruffly.

“Yeah, I probably will soon,” the other admitted, “but I have time! While I’m here, whatcha workin’ on?” He continued to pester, peering over Virgil’s shoulder to look at the pages.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?” Virgil replied, a bit more biting than his last remark.

“Not particularly!” The kid replied, still nauseatingly happy. “I mean, I have lots of time for food, and the cafeteria is a bit too crowded for me right now, anyway. I can always get food later if I have to. I am in the culinary track, after all!”

Instead of offering any sort of response to his rambling, Virgil scoffed and returned to his notations. Engagement meant the other kid was also going to keep talking, which was not even close to what he wanted.

“Soo, wanna show me what you’re working on?” Patton marched on with a smile, making Virgil sneer.

“No.”

The kid blinked, likely expecting either more or possibly less of a reaction than that. When Virgil remained silent he shrugged. “Ok, then! No pressure if you’re not comfortable with that. Maybe someday in the future though? It’s always fun to listen to people play live! Oh, and don’t forget to eat today! You seem busy, but food is important, too. See ya around!” And with that, he was finally gone, shutting the door decisively behind him.

Virgil stared at the spot for a moment after he left. That was- an odd interaction. Maybe he was a bit cruel, but you try getting interrupted from working by a stranger and see how you feel, thanks.

If he thought any further into it, he was going to start feeling guilty, so he finally turned his focus back, straightening to playing position on his violin and starting at the point in the music he’d left off on.

After about five minutes of some of the worst playing he’d ever heard from himself, he nearly threw the instrument to the ground in frustration.

He couldn’t pinpoint what was so distracting at that point, whether the conversation earlier, the compilation of having too much freedom, or some sick combination of both. Regardless, it was really getting under his skin.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sharp sound of ripping paper, and Virgil glanced down to see a sizeable tear in his sheet music. Fucking great.

This shouldn’t be that big of a deal! He wanted to go to this school, wanted to get out of the rigid homeschooling he’d been through since preschool age. But, he didn’t trust anyone here, and jumping into new and chaotic environments was never a strong suit of his.

Virgil began to pace.

Maybe he was pushing himself too hard. It was only day one. He’d been here for less than 24 hours, and he wasn’t even unpacked yet. Thinking he was going to be wildly successful in an unfamiliar environment was probably stupid, considering he tended to collapse under pressure.

If only it were that easy to adjust, like the rest of his classmates seemed to have done.

Wait.. the rest of his classmates…

They’d been there a week longer than he was! They had a whole week to do exactly what Virgil was doing, and they didn’t have any assignments to worry about while they did! He groaned, slapping his forehead with his palm at the oversight.

He needed to give himself that time to settle in before he compared himself to others’ success. A week, that was what he needed, a week of learning and finding his way around the school and actually sleeping in his new bed.

He nodded contently, settling back down to practice with a bit more attention to detail. It was easier to focus now that there was no problem to avoid.

(There were definitely problems to avoid, but those were the normal ones, the ones Virgil was more than used to avoiding daily.)

He was only able to squeeze in a few more minutes of genuine work before he jumped at the sound of the bell. Lunch was over, and he needed to head to class soon.

He shoved his music back in its spot and closed his violin case. Orchestra rehearsal was a two-hour class period after lunch, and Virgil was grateful that he already had everything with him and didn’t need to brave the common room of his dorm for the second time that day.

With all of his belongings gathered and the picture of his schedule displayed on his phone, he slipped out of the practice room and started down the hall. A few people were courteous enough to give small waves in his direction as he passed, but Virgil continued to ignore them.

After several unfortunate run-ins with extroverts, he made it back to his dorm. Patton’s advice was easily forgettable, as he was much more focused on ensuring he had everything he needed for class than eating. He quietly breezed past the communal living room, barely noticing the three students sitting there, staring at him.

Virgil leaned against his locked door and slowly let out a breath. As much as Emile had tried to encourage him to reach out to those kids, to try and make friends in his track, and whatever else, the idea of even making eye contact with strangers made his skin crawl. So, not today, and probably never, if he had his way.

He really didn’t want to leave his room while those guys were still talking, but he couldn’t avoid it if he wanted to follow his plans.

Another deep breath, and he opened the door quietly, keeping his eyes trained on his shoes. It was then he realized something was off.

Perhaps it was a combination of how overwhelming the day was, or how the sudden interaction with Patton had left him surprisingly vulnerable, but either way, he was starting to panic, the noises around him becoming muffled and dull. He felt his hands shaking at his sides.

Shit.

He rushed out the door, scanning the doors and hallways he breezed past to try and find somewhere, anywhere private to calm himself down. Door after door after door of dorms, he was going the wrong way, maybe there were bathrooms upstairs-

It took much longer than he was comfortable with, but Virgil eventually stumbled across an empty bathroom in the main lobby of the school. A “famly” bathroom too, for some reason. He closed the door behind him and locked it tight.

He slid to the floor as soon as he did, trying and failing to count breaths. This was so fucking stupid. He was going to be late to class, he couldn’t let a goddamn panic attack make him miss class, he didn’t even know why he was panicking, at least he was safe here, was he safe here?

It took about twenty sets of square breathing before he could hear said breaths, and a few more before the shaking in his hands calmed down. He slipped his phone out of his pocket to check the time, still ten minutes before class started. Perfect.

With a decisive huff, Virgil stood and wiped the tackiness off his face, ignoring where it came from. He’d be fine. It was just a blip in his plans to be early. If he thought about it more, he was going to be stuck here for even longer.

No need to panic. (Again.)

As he rushed into orchestra class two minutes before rehearsal, he cursed himself again from being so stupid, for being so anxious

Why did being a person have to be so hard?

#sanders sides fanfiction #tss storytime 2023 #cw panic attack #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders

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