#Infested with tattoos

[hakusins]

cw // smoking

lazy weekend with the bf

[tatsuyam]

Florist/Tattoo artist AU Kaiba :^)

(version without effects/filters below cut!)

[bogleech]

Top ten imaginary bugs?

A tree dwelling cockroach that lights up like a firefly

A big spiny predatory katydid that lights up to lure the cockroaches

A freshwater mantis shrimp I could just find at the average creek like I can crawfish.

A "giant" (like 2 inches) flightless lousefly that can thrive on any vertebrate blood and bites things at night like a vampire bat, wouldn't spread disease or infest homes or even be any more painful than a mosquito but you know it'd freak people out real bad anyways. Just something extra to keep humans on their toes.

A giant (like 1 inch) snout mite because they're really fun carnivorous mites with pointy noses, I wanna be able to keep them as pets too, or an even more giant tick but it's a non-biting scavenger. I want a big friendly tick.

A freshwater goose barnacle that can grow on land and catch insects like a venus flytrap.

A fully terrestrial crab that lives positively everywhere just so we'd have a culture in which crabs have to be recognized as common woodland creatures instead of mainly sea or beach creatures. I just think that would be fun. Might be neat if it's also super spiny all over.

A positively colossal (half an inch) tardigrade. Some tardigrades are predators, it could be one of those. A ferocious mega tardigrade that eats worms and termites and things.

One single small, plain species of trilobite that survived extinction by coming onto land but it's a petty nuisance to us, like it loves to eat stucco or something.

A biting vampire butterfly. Vampire moths exist, but they're rare and nocturnal. The vampire butterfly should be common and act like any other butterfly except that it will bite you if it gets the chance. As with the woodland crab I just wanna see what cultural impact there'd be if one butterfly was scary. It should look really distinct among all butterflies for ease of artistic use. So nobody has to explain what kind of butterfly it is if they got it for a tattoo or put it on an album cover.

[timeoutsoup]

Dig You A Grave

For @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 propmt

Klarion was enjoying his current mission for The Light. He was sent to a small city somewhere in America’s Midwest, to retrieve a magical tome that was currently in the hands of an eccentric billionaire. Imagine his surprise, when what he originally believed to be a boring errand, turns into an exciting night, because it turns out this city, Amity Park, reeked of Death magic and was infested with ghosts.

Giggling, the witch boy scratches his familiars chin as his eyes grow wide and his face splits into a mischievous grin. In front of him people were running in various directions, attempting to escape what looked like a giant ghostly cat, being ridden by a young girl.

“Oh, Teekl, this town is much more interesting than I originally believed.”

Watching mortals panic, as the ghostly cat destroys part of the street, and damages buildings, Klarion notices some pesky thorns in his side. Young Justice. Scoffing the witch boy decides to continue his mission.

“Well while it was fun watching, I should use this lovely feline as a distraction and continue my mission, don’t you agree Teekl.”

What Klarion, Teekl and Young Justice didn’t see was a teenage ghost fighting what appeared to be a genie, off in the distance, defeating her, and returning everything to normal.

Danny had just defeated Desiree, capped the Fenton thermos, and was looking for a place to detransform as the ghost genie’s wishes disappeared. He had noticed some superheroes fighting one of Desiree’s granted wishes and wondering why they were here. Sighing Danny notices where he is. Of course, his fight had to end in the back of fruit loop’s mayoral mansion, just his luck. He quickly ducked into an alleyway to change back.

Once back to his normal self, the young halfa heard yelling, and what sounded like a fight going on.

“I literally just defeated Desiree, and already another ghost appears.” Danny grumbles as he sticks his head out from the alleyway, and to his surprise it is not a ghost wreaking havoc on Amity, but a teenage boy, wearing a suit, glowing hands, and hair shaped into devil horns. The cute guy was taunting Vlad and Danny need to know.

Checking the streets, no one was around, the young halfa dashes through the open gates and crouches behind a bush.

“I do not care who you are, leave this property at once.” Vlad commands, glaring down his opponent.

“Oh quiet. You are interfering with my fun.” The young man says. “Now look what you’ve done. The Justice babies are here.”

Danny watched as Vlad was picked up by a guy in yellow and red spandex and is carried away in a flash.

“What are you doing here Klarion? Why are you attacking these people?” A young man with glowing tattoos askes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know water boy!” Klarion responds, raising his glowing palms, getting ready to attack.

Danny watches in amazement as Klarion fights the group of teenagers. Standing up, he leans on a near by tree and just watches the battle unfold.

No one noticed him until he let out a laugh at some of the banter going on. “’Aster.’ Who says ‘aster’?” the teen wheezes, as all eyes turn to him.

Klarion glances at the boy. “And who are you supposed to be? Another wannabe hero trying to stop me?”

Danny rolled his shoulder getting ready for a fight. “Alrighty. If you want to fight, I’ll fight you, and if I win let’s go on a date?” The halfa askes, smirking at Klarion.

Everyone froze. No one new what to do or how to react. It was Danny who broke the silence he made. “Well can I get an answer?”

Klarion regains his composure. “Alright Fine! But if I win, I’ll make you a grave!”

“Aw, you’re making me a grave already?! How sweet of you!” A hint of a blush appearing on his cheeks, but before they could continue, Danny is roughly picked up and is zoomed out of their by the same guy, who grabbed Vlad.

“Hey, kid that was super dangerous what you did. You need to stay out of it and let those of us who are trained take care of this.”

Before he even had a chance to respond, the speedster zipped back to the fight, leaving Danny on the other side of town. Determined to return to the fight, Danny whips his head around searching for a safe place to transform. It took a bit to find a spot, but he eventually did. Changing back into his ghost form, Phantom raced back to the mayoral mansion, and the fight that was raging, making sure to turn invisible on the way.

By the time Danny made it back, the fight had ended, and Klarion was now where to be seen. The team of teenage heroes was nowhere to be seen, doing who knows what, but left a destroyed lawn for Vlad to deal with.

Disappointed Danny turned to leave but notices an orange tabby, looking worse for wear staring at him. Floating down, still invisible, the cat’s eyes following his every move. He kneels in front of the feline, slowly offering his hand for the cat to smell, trying his best not to startle the poor thing. The cat sniffs his hand and butts its head against it, shocking the poor ghost boy. Most animals hated him, especially in his ghost form, feeling uneasy around a half dead guy. This cat was different. They were special.

Danny gently scooped up the injured cat, holding them gently in his arms, heading towards the nearest vet.

Klarion had succeeded in his mission of obtaining the tome for The Light, but at a heavy cost to himself.

Teekl had emerged from the Mayor’s Mansion having successfully gotten the book, only to be seen by the junior justice babies. They divided their attacks between him and his beloved familiar. In the end he was able to grab the book as he a Teekl were separated by a blast. Deciding to lead the heroes away and return for his beloved feline, Klarion took to the sky. Once he knew it was safe to return, the witch boy began his search for Teekl.

It had been three days and Klarion had not found her yet. Anger and worry clouded his vision, as he continued his search.

[bloodycyrano]

Here's what Team Tadpole would do for you for valentine's day!

Karlach: She would get you the absolute BIGGEST plushie she could find, and chocolates. Post-upgrades, she would cuddle the plushie for a few nights beforehand so it smells like her. She'd probably bring you to a carnival- One that *isn't* infested with shapeshifters this time -and try to take turns winning each other prizes.

Wyll: Wyll Ravengard spares no romantic gesture. He brought you your favorite flowers and decided to take you out dancing! He wanted to finish off the night with a romantic walk on the beach, but Mizora crashed your date, and now the three of you are playing board games because she wouldn't leave- Which Wyll isn't exactly happy about, but he's content as long as he gets to spend time with you.

Gale: Gale would probably make you a home-cooked meal in his tower back at home and absolutely shower you with affection and little magic tricks to dazzle the eyes. He's constantly seeking that approval, so you'd better believe he's going all out.

Halsin: Halsin would take you on a picnic in the prettiest part of the woods he could find, and surprise you with a special wild garden bed of your favorite flowers. He'd also have a whittled duck for you.

Shadowheart: Shadowheart would bring you a single night-blooming flower and a bottle of wine. She'd probably take you somewhere dark and secluded where you could simply spend the night enjoying each other's company, away from the rest of the world.

Astarion: Astarion is happy to do almost anything as long as he's with you. You stopped by his grave to leave flowers- A cute gesture he's likely become accustomed to. Perhaps he takes you out to dinner, or to a play he knows you've been wanting to see, but the real treat is when he takes you back home to cuddle and read together. Horror novels and shocking favorites only.- You wouldn't expect it, but he does voices for the characters if you get him to read out loud. His faked accents are awful, but it's cute.

Ascended Astarion: Awe, you didn't think I'd leave you guys out, did you? So. He's likely to do something flashier. A wine tasting, or maybe take you to get a new outfit tailored to fit you perfectly. It doesn't match anything you'd actually choose to wear, but it paints the perfect picture of the vampire consort trophy spouse he's decided that you are. He keeps setting up little things that you feel are supposed to make you happy, but it's filled with a harsh coldness and an empty stare. You've all but given up hope that the Astarion you know and love is still in there until the night comes to a close, and he brings you home. He's being strangely affectionate and sweet. Cuddly. At first, you take this as a sign of better days - until he won't stop biting you, no matter what you say or do. Eventually, he's taken so much blood that you pass out; and you wake up in your locked chambers alone with a pretty, expensive necklace and roses. No note. It doesn't even matter if roses are your favorite flower or not. He doesn't care.

Lae'zel: She didn't know Valentine's Day was a thing. She can't pronounce it and literally had no idea why everyone was making a big deal about the holiday, etc. She was, however, very surprised when you brought her a gift. She tried to seem uninterested in the whole "mushy, romantic stuff," but you could practically see her heart melt when you made a romantic gesture. You spent the rest of the day together - She probably tried to bring you out hunting or sparring.

Durge: Durge would either give you a mortal heart in a jar or a vial of their own blood, and disturbing poetry they wrote for you. They might try to get you to get matching tattoos with them, but they won't push you if you'd rather not. Aside from that, they might take you to a cemetery or a long lost ruin to bask in the macabre beauty of the space. They'd also bring brownies they made themself.- They were going to pack a picnic, but they didn't want to smother you; and they're really better at baking than they are at cooking.

[imdead770]

The Outsiders x Reader fluff - Johnny Cade

Authors Note: He's so sweet, I love him so much. So sorry for the wait, but it's here now. Enjoy.

Johnny Cade

▪︎ Words cannot describe how sweet this boy is.

▪︎ Once he finally realized he liked you he tried to ignore it

▪︎ He's never really had a girlfriend, so the idea of finally having one freaks him out

▪︎ What if he got rejected? You were way out of his league, anyways. At least that's what he thinks.

▪︎ The gang practically had to force him to ask you out

▪︎ Either A) he asked you out indirectly

▪︎ Or B) the gang set out two up

▪︎ Either way, there you two were, sitting at the diner across from each other.

▪︎ It was pretty awkward at first, he didn't really know what to do, so he just drank his milkshake to fill the silence

▪︎ Eventually you finally managed to start a conversation

" ..remember when Two-Bit shaved that squirrel Pony found? "

" heh.. yeah "

▪︎ After that the two of you hit it off

▪︎ 15 minutes in and he got more comfortable, smiling every time you talked

▪︎ You both talked, sharing a basket of fries and drinking milkshakes. 10/10 date.

▪︎ He insisted to walk you back home

▪︎ You walked right beside each other the whole time

▪︎ He wanted to hold your hand but he wasn't really ready for the whole pda thing

▪︎ Which is fine, he warms up to it later.

▪︎ Whenever you got to your house he didn't want to leave

▪︎ Instead of saying 'goodbye' like a normal date, you kissed him right on the cheek

▪︎ His smile was the sweetest thing you ever saw.

▪︎ Once you two got to your third date he figured out he really liked you

▪︎ Not just a crush, this was a thing now.

▪︎ You were both sitting at the drive-in together, right beside each other

▪︎ That's when hee finally worked up the courage to put his hand on top of yours

▪︎ You just smiled, keeping your lit-up eyes on the movie screen

▪︎ Your first kiss was probably that same night

▪︎ Not anything intimate, just a really sweet 5-second kiss

▪︎ Someone in the gang probably somehow saw it

▪︎ The whole gang found out before Johnny even got back to the Curtis house

" HOLY SHIT, JOHNNY! "

" what..? "

" Whaddya mean what!? Ya' got 'er to kiss ya'?!?"

▪︎ Once you two got more comfortable with each other, physical affection became as normal as a blue sky.

▪︎ Sure he still flinched whenever you touch a scar on his hand, but it's getting better.

▪︎ He'll hold your hand, pull you against him, play with your hair, all that.

▪︎ He keeps pet names simple

▪︎ Baby, babe, darlin' or just your name

▪︎ Always makes time for you

▪︎ It doesn't matter if there's a rumble on date night, he'd come watch a movie with you with a broken nose.

" Johnny.. you sure you don't wanna go to a hospital? "

" I'm sure, baby, it ain't even that bad. "

▪︎ Dates are normally pretty laid back and of course, cheap.

▪︎ Drive-ins, movie nights, sitting in the lot together

▪︎ One night you just sat on the grass of the lot talking, sharing a cigarette (or not, you do you)

▪︎ It doesn't matter to him as long as he gets to spend time with youm

▪︎ After a while he starts coming to your house instead of the lot

▪︎ And he's so grateful for it

▪︎ He finally has somewhere to sleep that isn't lotus infested and cold

▪︎ That and he had someone he could trust, someone to hold him.

▪︎ He always feel safer with you, like nothing could happen.

▪︎ The gang's grateful for it too

▪︎ They notice that Johnny isn't as jumpy when you're around since he's too focused on you too even flinch.

▪︎ He always finds gifts to bring you

▪︎ Sometimes Soda will give him something free at DX, sometimes Dal will steal something, other times he'll just bring you flowers he found.

▪︎ He doesn't really flirt but he definitely compliments you a concerning amount.

▪︎ HIS SCAR!?

▪︎ The same way you'd trace Steve's tattoo or play with Dal's necklace, you'd trace his scar

▪︎ Him laying down with you, listening to your steady heartbeat as you push his greased hair back to trace the scar.

▪︎ The first time you did it he tensed up, but now it's relaxing to him

▪︎ The way your thumb goes from his eyebrow down to his cheekbone could make him fall asleep.

▪︎ 😭❤️

▪︎ He knows you don't like playing with his greased up hair, he doesn't like it either, so he starts washing his hair more

▪︎ Eventually he's at the Curtis house and your house more than he's at his house

▪︎ Again, everyone's grateful for it.

▪︎ It was probably some random night in your room where he said he loved you

▪︎ He was just laying on your chest, listening to you hum quietly as you played with his for-once-actually-clean-hair

".. yknow I love you, right? "

▪︎ It took you a second to process it.

" ..yeah, I know. Love you too, Johnny "

▪︎ 😭🫶

Two-Bit's next!

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

The Grand A-Z List of Whump 2/3

This list contains ~174 items listed I to Q

As always, I heavily encourage people to research topics thoroughly when writing. Whump is generally a 'dead dove' sort of topic, however it is important to avoid stereotypes/misinformation. This lists intention is to not glorify/romanticise sensitive topics in any way.

This is a comprehensive list of injuries, Illnesses and tropes - including those from the Whumptober 2023 trope vote!

All submissions are listed in italics, and those who wanted to be tagged will be included at the end. If you have any more submissions: please send them via DM/my ask box.

[A-H] [R-Z] [NSFW List]

List below the cut:

I

ICU

Identity reveal

Ignorance is Bliss

Ignoring an Injury

Immersion foot syndromes (Prolonged exposure to damp and cold)

Immobilization

Immortal healed wrong

Immunodeficiency

Impalement

Improvised medicine/treatment

Indigestion

Infected (Blood, Wound, Tattoo etc)

Infested

Injured caretaker carrying an even more injured whumpee.

Injured whumpee instructs caretaker how to treat them.

Injury Discovery

Injury Revelation

Insecurity

Insomnia

Insults

Internal Bleeding

Interrogation

Interventions

Intimate whumper

Intubation

Involuntary whumper

Isolation

Isolation/Quarantine

Itching

J

Jailed

Jamais vu (The experience of being unfamiliar with a person or situation that is actually very familiar.)

Jealousy

Jet Lag

Jumping (to safety, forced to jump)

Just dying in general.

K

Keeping quiet because the enemy is nearby

Keeping the whumpee awake

Ketosis (body burning fat for energy)

Kidnapped by the opposing team

Kidnapping

Kidney Stones

Killed! (Again and again and again for the lovely immortal whumpees<;3)

Kneeling

Knife through hand and into wall/floor

Knocked Out

L

Lab Rat

Laryngitis

Late realisation

Left for dead

Leprosy

Lichenberg scars/Lightning strike

Limited Medical Supplies

Live-Streamed/Broadcast torture

Lobotomy

Locked Up and Left Behind

Losing a Bet

Loss of appetite

Loss of reality

Lost (In the woods, city etc)

Lost voice

Low Blood Pressure

Lumbago (lower back pain)

Lupus

Lured into a trap

Lying

Lyme's disease

Lymphoma

M

Magical exhaustion

Magical healing

Magic whump (using spells to harm someone)

Manhandling

Major Character Death

Makeshift Splints

Malaria

Malnutrition

Manhandling

Mauled

Measles

Medical trauma

Medieval Torture

Memory Loss

Meningitis

Menstrual Cramps

Mental illness after being kidnapping (and addressing it)

Migraine

Military lovers

Military whump

Mind control/Manipulation

Miscommunication

Missing

Missing Person

Mistaken Identity

Misunderstanding

Mono

Mopping a sweaty brow with a cool cloth

Mudslides

Muffled Scream

Mugging

Multiple Sclerosis

Multiple Whumpees

Multiple Whumpers

Mumps

Muscular Atrophy

Mute

Muzzled

N

Nailed to a wall or floor

Nails digging into palms

Nail marks left in the whumpees skin

Natural Disasters

Nausea

Near-Death Experience

Necrosis

Neglect

Nerve damage

Nerve pain

Nightmares

No anesthesia

No goodbyes

Non-responsiveness

Nonhuman whumpee

Not allowed to die

Not Realizing They’re Injured

Nowhere else to go

Noxious (gas/fumes)

Numb

Numbness/Paralysis

O

Obsession (with finishing the mission, the whumper obsessed with the whumpee etc)

Open Fracture

Orthostatic hypotension (low blood pressure when standing)

Osteogenesis Imperfecta (brittle bone disease)

Outnumbered

Overdose

Overworked

Oxygen Deprivation

Oxygen Mask

P

Packing a wound

Panic attacks

Paralysis (this could be temporary or permanent)

Paranoia

Parent caring for sick child

Parkinson's

Passing out from pain

Passing out in arms

Permanent injuries that affect them long term

Phantom pain

Phobias (could lead to character stumbling and hurting themselves in an attempt to escape their fear)

Photographs/Polaroids ( Especially if they're of the kidnapped whumpee)

Physical Therapy

Piercing ripped out

Pinched nerve

Pinned Down/To The Wall

Plague

PMS

Pneumonia

Pneumothorax

Poisoning

Polio

Possession/possession recovery

Post-exertional malaise

Post-ictal confusion/any other symptoms (after a seizure)

POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome)

Power Fatigue

Praise (especially if it's from the whumper)

Pregnancy (morning sickness, self-conscious, hot flushes, tired and sleepy, general malaise, swollen feet, weird cravings...)

Presumed dead

Prisoner Exchange

Protecting friend from the whumpees own team (bonus points if doing it while injured)

Psychological Torture

Psychological Whump

Psychosis

PTSD

Pulled Muscles

Puncture Wounds

Q

Q-Fever

TAG LIST: Thank you very much to the following people for submitting ideas! (I apologise if some tags did not work, I'm not sure why tumblrs not letting me tag you!)

@I-eat-worlds | @greygullhaven | @letsgowhump | @cyberwhumper @firapolemos05 | @originaldeerhottub | @whumpilicious | @drawing-dinos82 | @carenrose | @stellarinuscronicles | @gottheseasonalblues | @marvelflame2010 | @sowhumpful | @avamcu | @courtneygacha | @lordofthewhumps | @autismmydearwatson | @kuddelmuddell | @the-most-handsome-ginger | @whirls-and-swirls | @painsandconfusion

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 5

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is falling- leaves from the trees, rain from the sky, you for Eddie, and Eddie for you.

Word Count: 10.1 K

A/N: Big thanks to @the-unforgivenn (happy birthday❤️) for all of the help you gave me on this chapter, and honestly this whole fic in general. You've been an invaluable part of the writing process of this story, and the fact that you care so much about Eddie & Ace just makes me feel so loved... you don't even know. Ily wifey✨

Thank you @vintagehellfire for your priceless tattoo knowledge- I hope I did you proud!!

Also thanks to @blueywrites for helping me decide on what Eddie would tattoo on reader back in our Tumblr DMs in June😂 y'all that's how long I've had this scene in my brain. This part of the story has been a long time coming.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 5

Fall, 1983

“Rick, are you serious, man?”

“Dead serious, I’ll sell it to you for twenty.”

You caught the tail end of their conversation as you approached the red plastic picnic table in Forest Hills trailer park. Today was the first day of fall, and while it may not have felt like biting cold and crunchy leaves yet, it did feel like flannels tied around waists and long-dead grass that broke beneath the soles of your shoes. You hopped up onto the surface of the table, swinging your feet around to rest beside Eddie where he sat on the bench. 

“Sell what?” you asked, producing three cans of Coke from your bag that you’d brought from home and handing one to each of the boys. Rick had grown accustomed to your presence since the spring, so he actually cracked a smile when he answered your question and nodded in thanks as he accepted the can.

“Munson wants to buy my old tattoo gun.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?” you asked Eddie.

He didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “And I’m wondering what the catch is if you’re selling it to me for so cheap.” 

You cracked open your can of soda with a hiss, joining Eddie in his Rick stare-down. “Hmm,” you mused, “I bet he forgot to clean it and it’s staph-infested.”

“Nope,” Rick popped the ‘p’ after taking a swig from his shiny red can. “Never been used, so I can guarantee it’s staph-free. Always meant to use it, but after that brush with the cops I had last month, I don’t want to risk having it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie, trying to discern whether or not he’d thought about the fact that if he bought it, then he would be in possession of paraphernalia for illegal Indiana activities. 

Then again, you knew he smoked weed and that was most definitely against the law as well, and he hadn’t been caught yet. You trusted him not to be stupid enough to get arrested.

You turned your line of questioning on Eddie. “Why on earth do you need a tattoo gun anyway?”

“Well you see, Ace-” Eddie lifted one of your feet up from the bench, straightening your leg and presenting your right shoe- your white converse, half covered in mythical creatures and random doodles that Eddie had slowly been adding to with his fine-tipped Sharpie ever since you’d bought them in early August. “-it seems that I need a canvas for my art, and it won’t be long before I run out of shoe.” 

You quirked an eyebrow. “So now people are the canvas?” 

Eddie held up his arms, bare skin nearly translucent in the afternoon sun. His nearly-too-small Iron Maiden tee showcased just how much bare skin he had to spare along the contours of his limbs. “If by people you mean me, then yeah.” 

“You’re going to tattoo yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Without practicing on someone else first?”

Eddie smirked, “You volunteering?”

You rolled your eyes, but for some odd reason the idea stuck. You decided to play along. 

“Let’s say I am, what would the tattoo be?” 

Eddie hadn’t anticipated this answer. He was so surprised, in fact, that he choked on the soda that he’d just sipped into his mouth before your question. In a cacophony of coughs and wheezes, Eddie managed to regain his composure as you smiled wryly, feeling as though you’d bested him somehow in some small way. To fluster him with something as small as this, something he hadn’t expected. 

“You’re serious? You want a tattoo?” Eddie responded skeptically, before turning away from you to fiddle with his soda can still held in his hands. 

You shrugged, as if he were asking if you wanted a pizza, not a permanent brand inked on your skin. “Why not? I think I’d look pretty badass with a tattoo.” 

You weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold today, but you had a feeling it might be related to the thought of Eddie covered in ink that wound up and down his skin that was making you ache to touch it when it was still naked and peach-pale. You scooched a couple inches down the tabletop to the left, placing your seat directly behind Eddie’s neck. 

Then, in a stroke of something between bravery, stupidity, and need, you carefully slung your legs over Eddie’s shoulders so that they sat in the bends of your knees.

It was a simple gesture- familiar, even. You made a point to lean back a little, bracing your hands behind you on the tabletop so that the apex of your thighs stayed a good distance from the back of Eddie’s neck. You felt Eddie’s shoulders stiffen, each muscle under your jeans tensing for a moment before relaxing into the closeness. 

Then Eddie brought his hands to your ankles, his fingertips brushing the spare skin between your high tops and the cuffs of your jeans. The pads of his thumbs barely caressed the skin but they felt like a kiss- a thing coveted and then forbidden, then coveted even more. 

His touch drifted over your legs, warm hands coming to rest over your shins and squeeze, heating the denim that separated his skin from yours. You were holding your breath. You’d been so confident a second ago yet here he was, knocking the very air from your lungs. 

You waited anxiously for him to say something; if he didn’t you were sure you were going to do something stupid. Something that would involve more of his skin on your skin.

“Would you want this tattoo of yours to show?” Eddie asked at last, breaking the silence between the two of you- well, the three of you. Rick was still there, taking in the sight before him with a smirk on his face. 

“Not easily, my parents would kill me.” you said, ensuring that your tone of voice was nonchalant, casual. “But I don’t see the harm in something small that I could hide.” 

Eddie tilted his head back and up, earthen eyes flicking up to yours. “What happened to ‘looking badass’?”

You pursed your lips as you leaned forward, bringing your faces to hover parallel over each other. “You’re saying that taking my pants off to reveal a surprise tatty isn’t badass?”

You watched as Eddie’s eyes flashed darker for a split second- nearly imperceptibly so- before his lips stretched sinfully into a mischievous grin. “Oh, under the pants then, huh?” 

His hands traced higher, ghosting on your knees and burning his fingerprints through your jeans. 

“Easy to hide,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “It’s a practical placement.”

Eddie’s thumbs stroked absentminded circles into the flesh of your lower thighs, tight denim puckering with the motion. “Practical placement…” he murmured, low enough that it sounded like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud. 

“You could put it on your hip.”

Both of your heads whipped around to focus on Rick, who was grinning at both of you like he’d just discovered a fun new game to play. He shrugged, hopping up to sit beside you on the tabletop. “You want it to be hidden all of the time, right?” he leaned to shove you congenially with his shoulder. “When’s a good girl like you gonna be showing off some hip? I bet the only one who’ll see that will already be married to you when he lays eyes on-”

“Hey!” you interjected. “You act like I’m some prude, I’m not a nun.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at Eddie hoping to meet his gaze and laugh together over how ridiculous Rick was being. However, you looked down only to find Eddie’s chocolate browns trained on Rick with wide-eyed warning. A silent message was clearly being exchanged, but it wasn’t for you.

Rick was smiling smugly down at Eddie, unbeknownst to you, and Eddie was getting the message loud and clear:

It’s time to raise the stakes, kid. 

“Perfect!” Rick chirped, smug eyes still trained on Eddie’s. “So you wouldn’t mind letting Eddie use your hip as his, uh… canvas, then?”

If Eddie’s looks could kill, Rick would be a dead man. 

“Yeah.” you choked out, refusing to give yourself time to chicken out of what you’d gotten yourself into. “Yeah, why not?”

***

Rainy days in autumn just felt right.

Sure, you were in Latin class. Sure, you were supposed to be working on a packet the substitute teacher had just passed out. However, it was raining outside. The sub was easygoing enough that she hadn’t made a move to stop Eddie from doodling on your shoe that was perched comfortably on the crook of his hip. 

You sat behind him in every class you had together- there were four of them this year- and Eddie had gotten into the habit of reaching back to tap you on the leg whenever he knew he was losing focus. Every time he tapped, you would carefully stretch your leg forward until his hand caught on your ankle, lifting it up until it rested on his lap. His sharpie would go to work on whatever blank spots he could still find on your white converse, and the mindless activity of his drawing would keep his mind awake enough to listen as teachers droned on and on. 

The change in Eddie wasn’t lost on his teachers- they had all noticed the impact that your company seemed to have on him, and it was the only reason why they hadn’t had any issues with your constant companionship. When you were around, Eddie actually paid attention in his classes and turned in work- that was good enough for them.

The silence of the classroom and the soundtrack of rainfall beating against the roof and windows had created the perfect work zone for you, and your focus on your classwork was only interrupted when you noticed a folded piece of torn notebook paper on the edge of your desk. 

Smirking as you felt Eddie continue doodling on your shoe, you unfolded the paper and read the slanted scrawl that you’d come to recognize instantly as Eddie’s handwriting. 

Were you serious about the tattoo thing? It’s OK if you’re not.

Your cheeks heated, contemplating whether you were still serious about it or not. The only fears you had about it were completely logical- Eddie had literally no clue what he was doing. Yours would only be his second tattoo after his own. Worst case scenario, the tattoo would get infected and you go to the hospital. Eddie gets arrested for tattooing without a medical license. Best case scenario… you get to sit there while he grips your naked thigh for as long as it takes to leave a permanent reminder of him on your hip. 

You blinked a couple of times, letting that mental image wash over you, before confidently penning your answer beneath his message. 

I’m serious. 

Folding the scrap of paper and handing it back to him, you felt his Sharpie leave your shoe as he took the note and read it. You watched him register the two words, glance back at you through the loose strands of hair that hung over his shoulder, then smile softly into a shake of his head. A second later, he was handing the note back to you.

If you say so, Ace. What am I tattooing, and where?

You had to think about it for a moment before passing back your answer

Hip is fine. What are you gonna do? We could match.

Eddie’s reply came faster than you’d ever seen him write any of his notes in class, that’s for damn sure.

You want matching tattoos?? Are you sure?

Your heart began to race. Was that bad? Was he judging you for wanting to match him? Maybe you were being too clingy, trying too hard… you glanced down at his jacket, which was wrapped around you almost every day at this point- it was practically a second skin. His handwriting was all over your shoes. You stared at your fingers, scarlet polish chipping from the tips of your nails, and you remembered that you’d chosen red solely because he’d mentioned it was his favorite color. 

Were you coming across as desperate? Were you weirding him out? Maybe you needed to dial it back-

A new piece of paper slid across your desk, Eddie’s eyes glancing your way with nothing but warmth in his gaze before he returned his attention to your shoe on his lap. 

I’m fine with it if you are. 

Putting bats on my forearm. 

You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, giving ways for butterflies to take flight inside your chest. You grinned, jotting down your reply beneath his writing. 

I’m more than fine with it. 

Could you do just one little bat on my hip?

Eddie took a little longer this time with his response, and you understood why once you saw the adorably small silhouette of a bat penned in black on the paper he’d passed back to you. 

You leaned forward, letting your chin nearly brush the fabric of his denim jacket as you whispered low enough that the substitute teacher wouldn’t hear. 

“It’s perfect.”

A snicker from the other side of the classroom caught your ear. Eddie and you both turned to see a cluster of letter-jacketed assholes staring at the two of you, whispering and laughing with each other. 

You knew deep down that you didn’t care what they thought. You knew that you should just keep your head down. Ignore them. 

But then you caught the tail end of one of their sentences.

“...fucking freaks.”

Two things happened simultaneously: your eyebrows jumped, and Eddie’s stomach dropped.

The ringing of the bell was all you needed to angrily shove your belongings into your backpack and march over to the other side of the classroom, stopping the jocks in their tracks. Eddie was right behind you, tugging you back by the crook of your elbow as you steadily ignored his pleas to sit down and ignore them, they aren’t worth it.

“You want to repeat what you were saying over there, Alan?” You stared up at the freckled boy, his harsh features sneering down at you from where he stood nearly half a foot taller than you. His height did nothing to deter you, however. Neither did Eddie’s death grip on your arm.

Alan snorted, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you before him. His eyes flicked over you, appraising for about two seconds before directing his attention to Eddie behind you. “You letting your girl pick your fights for you now, Munson?” 

Eddie didn’t have a chance to respond; you didn’t give him one. “Don’t look at him.” you stepped forward, bringing you mere inches from the freckled football star. “I asked you a question.”

Alan and his cronies laughed, apparently amused by the show of dominance you were trying to make. You opened your mouth to berate him further, but the sharp tug on your arm from Eddie was strong enough this time to jerk you away from them and toward the door of the classroom. 

“Wh- Eddie, quit it!” you tried to shake off his grip but it wasn’t going to budge; Eddie marched you out the door and down the hallway like a man on a mission. 

“Yeah, Eddie, quit it!” You both could hear Alan’s patronizing whine from the classroom, his voice thrown into a reedy falsetto that made your blood boil. His voice trailed off, melting into the nasal snickers of his friends.

Eddie didn’t let go of your arm until the two of you reached his locker, at which point he finally looked you in the eye- and his stare embodied an intensity that you hadn’t seen from him ever before. You’d seen him intense, of course… just not like this. 

This looked like fear. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Eddie bit out, his teeth clenched and eyes wide. 

You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. Had you messed up, somehow? “I… I mean, they were calling us names, I wasn’t going to just sit there.”

“Alan’s an illiterate asshole, you don’t need to explain yourself to him.”

“I know I don’t need to, but…” You chuckled humorlessly, that familiar vengeful feeling from moments ago beginning to bubble back up. “You know what, no. I do need to. I’m not the kind of person who can just sit there while jerks like him run around slandering good people, it’s wrong!”

Eddie huffed, his hands on his hips as he glanced around and shook his head. “Slandering, huh? That’s a big word, Ace. What’s that, the college word of the day?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him closely and curiously. 

He was fidgeting nonstop, repeatedly picking up his feet and replacing them on the floor only an inch or so away from where they’d been before. His eyes darted in every direction, as if scanning for potential threats so that he could run from them before they decided to pounce. 

“Eddie, why are you so afraid of those guys?” 

Big brown eyes widened to saucers, refocusing on you. “This isn’t fear, Ace, it’s just common sense.” Eddie checked over his shoulder to ensure the jocks were gone, then took a step closer. He leaned his shoulder against the locker, lifting his opposite arm to gently place his hand on your upper arm. You shivered, feeling his thumb trace small circles through his own black leather. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared all of a sudden, you pondered, leaning closer to Eddie. He’s given me his armor. 

You lowered your voice, sympathetic to Eddie’s plight. “You know I wouldn’t let them hurt you, Eds.” Looking up into his eyes, you expected to see them soften, gratitude coating his gaze. Instead, they widened and crinkled slightly at the edges. Eddie huffed out a gaudy laugh, incredulous at your admission.

“Hurt me?” he shook his head, stunned, and began to rifle through his locker for the books he needed for next class. “Ace, I just don’t want them to hurt you!”

You balked. “Me?” an eyebrow raised, you crossed your arms over your chest, defensive once again. “You really think they’d hit a girl? They’re jerks but I don’t think they’d go that far-”

“Nah, they’ll only sick their girlfriends on you.” Eddie punctuated his sentence with a slam of his locker door. “Purebred harpies with matching scrunchies who’ll make your life a living hell and then pretend that you’re the crazy one.”

It was a struggle to keep up with him at the rate he was walking, strides each a yard wide as he tugged you along by your hand. 

Your hand. Eddie Munson was holding your hand. 

“You, uh… you speaking from experience?” You stuttered over your words, cheeks heating at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He had just admitted that he didn’t want to see you get hurt- his blatant protectiveness of you coupled with the way he was decisively dragging you by the hand to your locker right now was nearly too much for you to handle. 

“Trust me,” Eddie sighed, swinging you around as he reached your locker and (to your dismay) letting go of your hand. “You get asked out on a dare enough times, you figure out how their coven operates.” 

Eddie wasn’t meeting your eyes. You had to actually place your hand on his shoulder to capture his gaze. “Eddie,” you said, making a conscious effort to keep your voice steady and be something stable for him to feel at least a little grounded on. “Deep breath.”

Surprisingly, he did as you said. Eddie closed his eyes, inhaling deep and allowing his lungs to fill long enough that his chest expanded before his exhale blew softly on your cheeks. It smelled like the apple you’d brought for him at lunch.

 When you were once again treated to that warm hazelnut gaze, your hand acted without thinking and flew up to gently rest against his jawline. You were crossing some invisible line- you knew that- but the light in the hallway was causing shadows to take up residence in the dusting of whiskers that decorated the sharp incline that led to his chin. Your fingertips brushed his skin reverently, and he seemed frozen. Eddie didn’t dare move; you were like a butterfly that had deigned to land on him of all people, and damn it all if he was going to fuck it up and scare you off. 

“I’ve got you, you’ve got me… right?” Your voice was barely loud enough to be heard through the noise of bustling students. “We look out for each other, Eddie, we’re stronger together.” 

Eddie remained still under your caress, wishing he could focus on your touch. Wishing he could rip his eyes away from where they were trained behind you- held in terrified contact with a sadistic-looking Alan who stood with his cherry-lipsticked girlfriend across the hallway. Alan’s lips were curled into a sneer, watching as the thing that Eddie wanted most became his worst nightmare.

You were openly touching him, while wearing his clothes, standing in shoes covered with his drawings- and Eddie watched in horror as the harpy pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Alan’s ear before both of them refocused not on Eddie, but on you. 

They laughed like fucking heyenas, eyeing their next meal. 

It took every ounce of self control Eddie had, but he gently took your hand in his and lowered it from his cheek. He ignored the way your eyes gazed up at him the same way a scorned puppy begged for some kind of affection, any confirmation that they are, indeed, loved. 

“It’s the together part I’m worried about, Ace.” Eddie whispered, keeping his voice low. 

You were quiet, which Eddie hated because it was his fault.

“Oh, and um-” Eddie raised his shoulders and shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms to warm himself with the friction. “-it’s a little chilly today… you mind if I wear the jacket?” His hand drifted down to the flannel that hung loosely tied around your waist, taking a corner of the material and feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

“This’ll keep you warm, yeah?” 

You stared blankly for a moment, stunned. You had nearly forgotten that the jacket was his to take. You’d assumed he liked that you always wore his jacket, but… perhaps you’d made that up. You were eager for him to want things like that, after all… ‘more than friends’ kinds of things. However, asking for a borrowed item to be returned was completely normal for friends. You chided yourself for reading too much into it and smiled warmly up at him.

“Yeah! Of course!” you sprung into action, setting your backpack down on the floor as you began to shrug off the jacket. “You’re right it’s frigid in here today.” 

You handed the jacket to Eddie, who donned it with a thin-lipped smile. Parting ways for your next class, you departed in opposite directions down the hallway. 

Upon arriving in your calculus class, you glanced out the window eager to zone out as you watched the rain, only to be greeted by a gray sky drained of its water. The rain’s reprieve left nothing in its wake but a tired sun, soft mist that obscured all surety, and packed Indiana dirt softened to mud too loose for one to find their footing. 

The sort of mud that, should you try to walk through it, you’d be destined to slip and fall. 

***

When Eddie thought of Halloween, he thought of blood and sugar. 

It was a strange contradiction, the way that Halloween’s association with horror and gore had balanced itself out with candy corn and fun-sized Snickers bars, and yet the juxtaposition of the two brought a smile to his face. The combination of sweet and terrifying embodied the holiday perfectly. On Halloween, there was no need for any kind of steely exterior that might protect him from judgment. No need to hide the way he really feels behind the scary metalhead armor he’d so carefully curated as a defense mechanism. 

On Halloween, he wasn’t just allowed to be a freak. He was celebrated for it. 

On Halloween, he could just be. 

It was the reason why Halloween just so happened to be the day he’d had enough courage to look through your bedroom window exactly four years ago. It’s the day when Hell meets Heaven to make something sweet, and anything can happen.

Anything- including matching tattoos on the floor of his trailer. 

Everything was ready- Eddie had laid out sheets of newspaper to cover what he’d deemed the tattoo zone, and broken down a cardboard box to act as a stable surface on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie had scrutinized every instruction he’d been able to wrench from Rick for how to work the tattoo machine. Grips, needles, fucking rubber bands that were apparently very necessary… he’d made sure he had it all. He’d even practiced on an orange that he’d swiped from the kitchen counter.

A thick black cable now snaked across his carpeted floor, connecting the machine to a pedal, the pedal to a power supply, and the power supply to the yellowed plastic outlet on his wall. Beside the machine sat a stack of paper towels and all sorts of other shit Rick had advised him to make sure he used. He was lucky that Rick had bought a bottle of black ink- Eddie wouldn’t have known where to seek out medical-grade ink in a state where it was illegal to ink your skin without a license. 

Your knock at his door made Eddie jump; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It would be easy to write his nerves off as adrenaline before his first tattoo, but who was he kidding- it was you. You’d gone from someone who made him nervous to someone who made him nervous for different reasons, and all of this was very inconvenient for Eddie. 

“Trick or Treat,” You’d chirped when he opened the door, and it was at that moment Eddie realized that this night may very well be the death of him.

You wore your favorite baggy sweater over a tight black tank top, which you’d tucked into some high waisted acid washed jeans. Unsurprisingly, the chucks on which he’d scribbled his claim were fastened securely on your feet. In your hands was a variety pack of halloween candies and a shopping bag from the local drugstore. Everything about you radiated warmth, and Eddie had to fight the urge to change tonight’s itinerary to movies and a blanket fort and spend the whole evening on the couch with you, surrounded by candy wrappers and the light of his television set. 

“I brought antibacterial soap,” you said, bringing Eddie back to reality. You rifled through your shopping bag to show him your spoils as you stepped through the threshold and into his trailer. “-large bandages, and a little travel first aid kit just in case. Oh, and I did a little bit of reading at the library and I couldn’t find much on tattoos, but the one commonality between every book and article I could find said to make sure you wash the wound often and disinfect everything-”

“Ace,” Eddie interrupted, taking the bag from you and closing the front door. The corner of his mouth quirked up, keeping an amused chuckle at bay. “You went to the library to read about how to safely care for an illegal tattoo?” Your expression soured, shifting to a half-scowl, half-pout. 

“Well one of us has got to do it,” you huffed, grabbing the bag and marching towards Eddie’s room. “And I know you wouldn’t set foot in the library unless you were forced.” You continued to yell at him from his room, “You’ll thank me when your kitchen-scratched tattoo doesn’t get infected, and you get to grow old with all of your limbs intact!”

Eddie stayed glued to his spot as his smirk grew into a goofy grin. You were fucking adorable. 

You hadn’t argued when Eddie insisted that he start with his own tattoo- before he got started on permanently marking your skin, he wanted to be sure that he at least had gotten the hang of it first. He immediately started getting to work with his trusty fine-tipped Sharpie, sketching out a scattering of bats on his forearm and glancing every once in a while at his notebook for reference. You’d flipped through that notebook on several occasions when the two of you had sat idle during classes or study sessions. The drawings were always sprawling, sharp and gruesome in a way that wasn’t so much scary as it was fascinating to you. 

You laid stomach-down on his mattress, positioned behind where he sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the bed frame and close enough that you could probably reach down and play with his hair if you were bold enough. You didn’t- no matter how tempting it was, you didn’t want to risk anything that might mess up his focus. You settled for watching Eddie’s reflection in the mirror that sat leaned up against the wall in front of him. 

When the Sharpie stencil had dried and Eddie picked up the tattoo machine, you couldn’t deny the nervous uptake in your heart rate. You watched him gingerly begin the process of permanently inking his drawing into his skin, and before the needle touched skin, Eddie looked over his shoulder at you and winked, whispering a surprisingly shaky “Point of no return.” Before you could ask if he was having second thoughts, he was already outlining the first bat, his socked foot pressing decisively on the pedal that whirred his machine to life. 

Minutes ticked by before you uttered a soft “Does it hurt?” to break the awkward silence. Normally, Eddie had some sort of music playing, Metallica or WASP or something along those lines spinning on his cheap old turntable- but tonight there was nothing but the electric buzz that filled the small bedroom, and it was starting to make you antsy. 

Eddie huffed, and it was as much of a laugh as he could afford while holding still. “Well, Ace, it’s a needle sticking in and out of my arm repeatedly, so if I’m being honest it ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.” You watched him wince as he moved on from outlining the first bat and started on the second. 

“Does it at least make you feel a little badass?” You watched his reflection in the mirror glance up through the curtain of his hair and raise an eyebrow at you. 

“That depends,” He said, “do I look badass?” 

“A little.” You teased. “You’ll look more badass when the tattoo is finished.” 

That earned you a snort from him. “What, fifty percent of a tattoo doesn’t cut it?” His reflection flashed you a genuine smile, that lopsided grin affecting you the way it always does, spiking your body temp and rushing the thump of your heart. 

“Nope. Though, if your intention is to tell the world that you have commitment issues-”

“I do not have commitment issues-”

“Then what kind of issues do you have?” 

Eddie parted the needle from his skin, taking a moment to glance wryly over his shoulder in your direction. 

“You.” It was punctuated by a tongue that peeked out from between his lips. You followed suit, shoulders shaking as you chuckled.

Silence threatened to fall for a moment then, but Eddie put a stop to that. “Keep talking.”

“Huh?”

His voice was quiet, muttered like he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. “Hurts less when we’re talking.”

You smiled, watching as he avoided your eye contact in the mirror, focusing on his arm as a subtle blush began to creep onto his cheeks. Tempting as it was to tease, you opted for a more neutral topic.

“Which is better, sour candy or chocolate?”

You could barely see his eyebrows furrow behind his curtain of curls as he considered your question. “Chocolate.”

“You’re crazy.”

He barked out a laugh. “After all the ridiculous shit I’ve said, that’s what crosses the line for you?”

You shook your head, amping up your reaction for his benefit; he was laughing, and it was music to your ears. You were greedy for more of it. 

“Sour candy is a whole experience, chocolate is just sweet! That’s all it has going for it!”

Eddie gawked but kept his eyes trained on his skin. “What do you have against sweets?”

You rolled your eyes, flopping from your stomach to your back and staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling. “I haven’t got anything against sweets… I just like a little tart to go with it. Oh hang on, that reminds me-”

You stuck your hand into the plastic bag you’d brought with you, producing a variety pack of cheap Halloween candies. “Do you normally get trick-or-treaters? I thought we could pour these into a bowl and set it out on the porch- you know, so we don’t have to keep answering the door.”

Eddie Shook his head. “Nah, not a lot of kids who live here. Those who do always high-tail it to the neighborhoods where the good shit is, like-”

“Loch Nora?” you finished, smirking. 

Nodding his approval, Eddie echoed, “Loch Nora.”

“Well in that case,” you yanked open the bag of candy so hard that a few individually wrapped pieces were flung onto the bedspread as well as the floor below. “I guess we’ll have to eat all of this ourselves.”

Eddie paused his tattooing to glance at a fun-sized packet of sour gummy worms that had landed on the carpet beside him. “Gummy worms?” he asked.

You flicked the back of his head while the needle was off his skin. “Uh, yeah, they’re delicious.”

“Did you at least get candy corn?”

You gagged. “Candy corn?!”

The two of you passed the next hour like that, debating about various arbitrary topics and inevitably disagreeing on almost all of them. There were only three things that you both agreed on without any debate whatsoever: Santa Claus was the superior holiday mascot, Joan Jett could easily beat Cyndi Lauper in a fight, and The Empire Strikes Back was way better than A New Hope.

When Eddie was finally finished with his tattoo, you were off the bed in an instant and already reaching for the antibacterial soap. 

“You should wash it under some warm water first before anything gross has a chance to get in there-”

“Hey hey hey, whoa hold on!” Eddie was laughing, eyes wide as he smiled at you. Your hand was already encircled around his wrist, tugging his arm (and the person attached to it) toward the bathroom. “Ace, you haven’t even looked at it yet, c’mon you’re bruising the artist’s ego here.” 

You sighed but couldn’t hide the rueful grin that danced on your pursed lips. Softening your vice like grip on his wrist, you shifted your hands to cradle his forearm and survey the last hour’s work.

“It looks good, Eddie… really good, actually.” You absently swiped a thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. “If you’d told me it was professionally done, I’d totally believe you.”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where your thumb stroked the base of his forearm, eyes shining.

“Yeah,” you smirked. “Of course, I’d tell you to try and get your money back, but-”

“Oh shove it up your ass, Sweet Tart.” The playful shoulder-check had you letting go of his arm, but both of your faces were painted with ear-to-ear smiles. 

Eddie washed his new tattoo in the bathroom sink, admiring the way the bats stretched and shifted with every flex of his forearm. Your mouth hurt, as did the muscles in your cheeks; you couldn’t stop smiling. He was so happy with his work, and you had to admit that he had actually done a really good job with that tattoo machine. 

“We’ve got to get you out of Indiana, Munson,” you murmured to the mirror where he continued to scrutinize his work from every angle. “I think you may have just found your calling.” 

His eyes were wide and shining with pride as they glanced your way. “You think?” 

You nodded, that saccharine smile stubbornly staying put on your lips. To be fair, you didn’t fight it.

“You’re coming with me, then.” Eddie replied, his own smile glowing in the dying light above the bathroom mirror.

There it was- that familiar fire beneath the skin of your cheeks.

“Oh I am, huh?” 

“Hell yeah.” Eddie braced his arm on the doorway, leaning over you until your faces were mere inches apart. “We’re stronger together, remember?”

Breathe. Breathe… Why can’t you breathe?

You’d barely managed a nod before Eddie was ducking around you through the doorway, grabbing your hand, and leading you back to his room. 

“Your turn, Ace.”

Oh yeah, you were also getting a tattoo today. You’d almost forgotten. Were you nervous? You weren’t sure. Actually, yes, you were very nervous- not so much about the tattoo as you were for where the tattoo would be. 

In minutes, you were both sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor- Eddie readying everything he needed for your new ink, and you sitting eerily still as your soul started to feel like it might leave your body.

“Ace,”

Eyes refocusing, you blinked a few times. “Yeah?”

Eddie’s expression was calm, sympathetic to the inward freak-out he had a feeling you were on the verge of. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little more strained than you had intended. “Hah…you saying I have commitment issues?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but Eddie’s eyebrows stayed knitted together above his big brown eyes. “No,” he murmured. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking to a stray animal and trying not to spook it. “I guess I’m just… trying to give you an out, so you don’t feel pressured or anything.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want an out.”

Eddie blinked, “No?”

“No.”

There was a second of silence between the two of you before you both took in a collective breath, exhaling simultaneously and giggling when you both realized that you were breathing in sync. Perfect harmony; sour and sweet, nervous but willing. 

“You, uh…” Eddie stammered, his eyes flicking down to your lap and back up to your face. “...you still want it on your hip?”

Your heart rate doubled. 

“Um, yeah.” you awkwardly shifted your weight onto your knees, grabbing hold of your waistband and unbuttoning your shorts. You shimmied them over your hips, revealing the rest of your leotard- leotard, Eddie realized. Not a tank top. You were wearing a black leotard. It was almost like the kind that he’d seen ballerinas wear, except it cut so high on your hips that he was sure it wouldn’t be allowed in any of the dance studios he could think of, and….yep. YEP, it was practically a thong. Your ass was out. You were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with your ass out. 

Chill out, Munson! He screamed inwardly at himself, Chill the fuck out!

Of course, you couldn’t tell that there was a war going on between Eddie’s ability to function and the short-circuiting that threatened to render him unable to do anything but stare at you. All you could see was the way his jaw had gone slack and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

You smiled shyly, a twinge of something between satisfaction and guilt nudging at your heartstrings. “I figured this thing would be less awkward than if I was sitting here in my underwear,” you laughed nervously as you gestured to your leotard.

Eddie gulped. He couldn’t see much of a difference. “Yeah, totally.” 

A beat passed. You grabbed a bag of gummy worms from the floor, tearing it open with a crinkle of the plastic that would not have been so loud if the two of you weren’t dead silent. You bit into the candy where the color changed from pink to blue, then finally muttered through your chewing, “Ready when you are.” 

Eddie blinked rapidly, taking his Sharpie in his hands. “Uh, yeah… yeah, okay.” 

With your free hand, you pointed to the part of your hip where your flesh naturally creased as your thigh met your pelvis. 

“Is here good?”

Eddie gulped. 

“Yeah, that’s good.” But Eddie was very much not good. He was the opposite of good, he felt like he was malfunctioning. When he placed his free hand on your upper thigh, he almost apologized. Why the hell did he feel like he had to apologize? He had no clue. His palms were sweating- did you feel how sweaty his palms were? Oh god. He forgot what a bat looked like- you were trusting his artistic skills enough for him to permanently ink his drawing into your skin and he couldn’t even remember what a goddamn bat looked li- oh, wait, he had them on his own forearm now. Eddie glanced at his arm, reminding himself what a goddamn bat looked like. 

He’s never felt like more of a nervous idiot than right now. 

Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to explode.

His hand was warm. So warm as he grasped your thigh. Whenever he’d touched you before, there was always a barrier, some form of separation between his skin and yours- jeans, a sweater, a flannel. 

A leather jacket.

That’s right- he had taken his jacket back. Maybe you were reading too deep into things, but you had this unshakable feeling that taking back that jacket had been a message. 

We’re just friends. Nothing more.

But if that was true, then why was he looking at your thighs the way he was? Why had he looked at you the way he did when he said you should go with him when he leaves Hawkins? 

He wasn���t your boyfriend… you knew that.

So why couldn’t you shake this undeniably girlfriendish ache in your chest?

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice jolted you out of your downward spiral into your very inconvenient feelings. “Check that out in the mirror, make sure you like it.”

You straightened up, walking on your knees until you faced the mirror leaning against the wall and inspected the tiny, perfect little bat that he’d drawn on the fullest part of your hip.

It matched the bats that now decorated his arm, now surrounded by an angry red halo that bloomed across his skin. Once that bat was inked, it would be something connecting you and Eddie forever- a shared experience, a secret that the two of you would always be in on. 

Suddenly, you realized that in this moment there wasn’t a single thing you wanted more than a matching tattoo with Eddie Munson.

Well, there was one thing. But you had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight. The tattoo, however…

“I love it.” You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, but his eyes were a little too busy staring at your practically naked behind to meet your gaze. 

“Ahem.”

Breaking free of his trance, Eddie shook his head a tad, which drew a small chuckle from your smirking lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too, albeit more shyly than you.

“Distracted?” You teased, unable to hold back your glee at this kind of attention- any kind of attention- from Eddie. 

He sighed, blinking rapidly while he finally met your eyes. There was something new in the way he was looking at you- if you didn’t know better you might call it frustration, but it was an amused sort of frustration. Almost like his eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” but through sunglasses tinted with desire. 

You wanted to bottle that, stow it away for emergencies. Wanted to preserve the way that gaze made you feel so that you could experience it over and over again. 

“No.” Eddie murmured through a rueful grin. “Lie down, it’ll be easier to ink the skin while it’s flat.” You did as he instructed, feeling the crinkle of newspaper underneath the skin of your rear. Once again, you found yourself staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling until his face came into view, looking down at you as he readied the tattoo machine. 

“Are you?” You heard him ask. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The pads of Eddie’s fingers poked and prodded at the skin around where your tattoo would soon have an indefinite spot on your hip, and you wondered if he could tell that your temperature shot up ten degrees each time you felt his hands on you.

“Are you distracted?” he clarified. “Because it hurts less when you’ve got something else to focus on.” 

“Oh.” Suddenly, your mind went blank. Of course, the moment you wanted something to distract you, all ideas turned tail and ran. “Um…”

Snap!

Your jaw dropped as the elastic of your leotard snapped back to your skin from where Eddie had pulled it away with his pointer finger. “Where’d you even get this thing?” 

Now it was your turn to short-circuit.

“Uh-” You stammered, interrupted by the machine beginning to buzz. 

Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish your thought before reminding you what he’d asked. “C’mon, Sweet Tart, where’d you get the leotard?”

You knew he was trying to distract you so you didn’t feel the pain, but you couldn’t help the tensing of your muscles as the needle pierced your skin. You winced, staring at the water stain with a newfound intensity. “Dance store.” you gritted through lips that formed a tight line. 

“Dance store, huh?” You could hear the smile through Eddie’s words. “And why were you in a dance store?”

You huffed out a short, breathy laugh, careful to keep your hip still as Eddie’s needle continued to do its work. “I was making a Flashdance costume. Heard about this Halloween party a few weeks ago, but then we made the tattoo plans… and I had already bought the leotard, so…”

It was disconcerting to speak with Eddie without looking at him; he was a very expressive person, always talking with his hands, always making sure that he looked you in the eyes when you spoke to him. But now he was focused on his work on your hip, leaving your eyes to shift between staring at his ceiling and fluttering closed.

“You were going to wear this thing to a party?” he asked, incredulous. 

Your eyebrows wrinkled over your closed eyes. “I would’ve worn tights under it…” 

He snorted. “That wouldn’t have made a difference.”

You winced, groaning as the needle hit a nerve that particularly stung. “What- ah, shit- what are you trying to say?” 

The buzzing stopped for a moment. “Fuck, you okay?” Eddie’s face leaned into your field of vision, his frizzy brown hair backlit into a halo by the light from the lamp behind him. “You want to take a break?”

You shook your head, taking a mental snapshot of how ethereal he looked like this. “No, you can keep going, I’m fine.” 

Cautiously, Eddie got back to work. A few wordless seconds ticked by before you spoke. 

“What did you mean, ‘that wouldn’t have made a difference’?”

Eddie’s reply was matter-of-fact, but you could have sworn that you heard a hint of protectiveness in his voice when he said, “Tights or no tights, the whole party would have been staring at your ass, Sweet Tart.”

The “T” sound in “Tart” was soft this time. So soft, it was barely there at all, and it almost sounded like he’d just called you sweetheart. If only. You’d give anything to be Eddie’s sweetheart.

Whether he’d meant to blend that consonant or not, it made you brave. “Is that a bad thing?”

A pause. Then, “Is this a trap?”

“Answer the question, would a bunch of people staring at my ass be a bad thing?”

Eddie sighed. “This is definitely a trap,” he muttered, before replying “No, Ace, objectively it would not be a bad thing. But sometimes people view girls differently when they walk around with their asses out.”

“Do you look at me differently when my ass is out?” You were being cheeky, you knew it. 

“No, I don’t look at you differently.” came his instant response, muttered through nearly-closed lips. “I just look at you.”

Nothing could stand against your smile, not even you. “Yeah, that much I could see in the mirror.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that.”

This was different from the flirting you were used to with Eddie. Your regular flavor of flirtation had always been surface-level banter; nothing past a jab here and there, a joke at his expense or a nickname thrown your way. 

Now? You were talking about the way he looked at your body, and the fact that he could tell that you liked when he looked. The two of you were in uncharted territory, and you buzzed under his touch in time with the inky needle at the beautiful unknown of it all. 

“Okay, the outline is done but I’m about to start filling it in.” Eddie warned. “This part hurts a little more. You wanna take a break?”

You nodded. While Eddie jumped up to get you both a glass of water, you sat up on your elbows and peered over at your hip to get a look at your new ink. When you saw it, you gasped so fervently that you startled yourself.

It was perfect. The perfect little bat. 

It wasn’t completely symmetrical. The outline was a tad thicker in certain places than others. But those imperfections made it his. And the fact that it was on your skin made it yours. 

You couldn’t wait to wake up and stare at it like this every single day. 

Eddie returned a moment later with two mismatched cups of tap water. Once you’d both rehydrated, he got to work replacing the needle at the end of the machine with a new one, as well as changing out various attachments and fiddling with a knobby-looking piece until he seemed satisfied with what he’d changed.

 You were impressed with how intensely focused Eddie was on this sort of work; it didn’t seem to be taking him long to get the hang of this. It also didn’t take him long to come up with another topic of conversation that teetered on the line between friendly and flirty.

“Ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

You had not, but the title of the game brought an unexpected chuckle out of you. “Edward Munson, I am a lady! At least take me out to dinner first-”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Eddie chuckled, and you could hear his deadpan in the tone of his voice. “I say three people’s names and you have to tell me which you’d fuck, which you’d marry, and which you’d kill. Comprende?”

“Uhh-” whatever you’d been about to say was cut short by a harsher buzz than before, accompanied by the aggressive sting of needles on your skin. “Mmh, shit, okay yeah sure let’s play.”

Eddie smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure why he loved the little noises and whispered curses that spilled from your mouth while he tattooed you, but he honestly thought they might be the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. You were taking the pain like a champ- he was actually pretty proud of you in this moment as you remained still through the sting.

“Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, and Kirk Hammett”

You rolled your eyes. Eddie had ensured over your many rides in his van this summer that every Metallica song he’d played had been an educational experience. Eddie had picked up a cassette of their debut album in July, and ever since he’d become obsessed. Already, he was trying to persuade the other members of his band to figure out how to play The Four Horsemen by ear. 

Needless to say, you knew enough about the band to at least answer the question. 

“Well I’m killing Lars for sure.”

“Poor Lars never stood a chance.”

You grinned, willing the distraction into something great enough to numb the pain. “And I think I’m gonna have to fuck Hetfield.”

“‘Have to fuck Hetfield,’ such a sacrifice.” 

You carefully stretched your arms up to rest above your shoulders, cradling your head on your hands like a pillow. “Hey, if someone’s got to do it, I’ll take one for the team.”

You heard him snort, then after a moment’s quiet he added, “So you’re marrying Kirk Hammett, then?”

“I guess so.”

“What makes Kirk marriage material? Over the other two, I mean.”

You thought about Kirk Hammett’s wild, dark curls. His build. His brown button eyes. The way he looked holding a guitar.

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”

Eddie thought about the way he’d been trying to make himself look more like a rockstar ever since he’d first seen the tiny, grainy picture of the Metallica members in the corner of a page of Rolling Stone; he’d been bumming copies off Jeff’s subscription since the seventh grade. How he’d started growing out his hair after seeing Kirk’s long, black mane. He smiled. 

He must be doing something right.

“Alright, Mrs. Hammett,” He quipped, “My turn, hit me with bachelorettes one through three, please.”

You thought over your options, trying to think of women you’d heard him mention before. Wondering if he thought any of them had something in common with you, and praying to God he didn’t kill them.

“Olivia Newton-John,”

Already, Eddie was descending into a fit of giggles. 

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty!”

Eddie launched into a falsetto rendition of the chorus from Grease’s Hopelessly Devoted to You, and you were instantly fighting the giggles too. 

“Shut up! I’m not done yet. Olivia Newton-John… have you seen Fast Times?”

His response came in a tone of voice that was the vocal equivalent of a side-eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t know if you know who Phoebe Cates is.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dreamily, “I know who Phoebe Cates is.” 

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled nonetheless. “Okay then- Olivia Newton-John, Phoebe Cates, and Carrie Fisher.”

Eddie barked out a joyous “Ah!” before answering, “Well this is easy, Ace, say goodbye to Newton-John!”

You mock-gasped. “You’re killing Sandy?”

“I’m killing Sandy.”

“That is brutal. She was so innocent, too.”

Eddie squinted at the half-filled tattoo, smirking into his explanation. “Okay, I see the appeal, Ace, I truly do. That outfit at the end is killer.” He paused. Should he say it? Would he be too obvious if he did? 

Ah, fuck it. 

“I’m a sucker for a woman in red shoes, let me tell ya. However-” Eddie quickly glazed over that last sentence, as well as any opening you might have gotten to think about how that might relate to you. “-I’ve gotta fuck Phoebe Cates. Because… y’know-”

“Boobies?” you beat him to the punch.

Eddie confirmed with a matter-of-fact “Boobies.” He glanced up at your face for a moment, curious to see if he could read what you thought of his answers, but you were staring pensively at his ceiling, expression unreadable. “And you have to have known I was marrying Leia the moment she was an option.” 

“You have a thing for Princess Leia?”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asked, incredulously. “How could I not? The woman’s the definition of a spitfire, she kicks ass and takes names. Not to mention, she’s got a thing for scoundrels.” 

You hummed. “Do you think you’re a scoundrel, Eddie?” 

“Well I’m certainly not a scruffy-looking nerf herder, I’ll tell you that much.”

You winced playfully, “A nerf herder you are not… but you are a bit scruffy.”

“You’ve got me there, princess.”

Eddie went silent. The nickname had just slipped out- all this talk of scoundrels and princesses and strong women who weren’t afraid of a fight and before he knew it, he was seeing more similarities between you and Leia than he’d realized were there before. 

Princess had just seemed right. It just slipped out. 

The line between friendship and dangerous territory had been so clearly drawn in Eddie’s mind before tonight. Where had he gone wrong? That once clear line was getting blurry.

Eddie was absolutely convinced that he would probably find a way to single handedly ruin your friendship before he was finished filling in your tattoo- which you would inevitably hate, because it would remind you of the asshole who you used to be friends with before he made things weird between you.

“My turn,” your voice cut through Eddie’s downward spiral, drawing a relieved sigh from him that tickled the skin of your thigh. “Let’s make this round more interesting. Only names of people from Hawkins.”

“Hm, that is interesting.” he mused, the needle inching its way toward the last remaining centimeter of bare skin left within the outline. “Let me think… Chief Hopper-”

You barked out a laugh, “Oh great start, Eds.”

“Chief’s a good looking guy! I don’t know why you’re laughing!” but Eddie was smiling ear to ear, delighted that his awkward apprehension had already begun to dissipate. “Principal Higgins-”

“Are you only going to give me old men as options?”

Eddie was going to do exactly that, because he didn’t want to picture you marrying or- God forbid- fucking any men in Hawkins that you might actually enjoy doing either of those things with. He wasn’t jealous, per se… but none of the shitheads in Hawkins were good enough for you. Eddie wasn’t even good enough for you; not yet, at least. He could picture a future version of himself one day taking his chances with you, once you’d both skipped town and found your way in some thriving city somewhere. 

You were both too good for this place- you were the first person to make him think that about himself.

“What was that security guard’s name at the mall? Average joe looking guy? Quentin? Quincey?”

“Oh, you mean Quinn?”

“Knew his name started with a Q.” Eddie softly bit his bottom lip as he finished the last bit of your bat’s wing. “Hopper, Higgins, and Quinn. Those are your options.”

You groaned. “These choices suck, can I just kill them all?”

“I kinda like it when you go all bloodthirsty, Ace.”

You rolled your eyes before letting them flutter closed. “Ugh, well I’m obviously killing Higgins… he’s never been nice to you and all he cares about are school sports. I guess… I mean if I have to, I’ll fuck Hopper.”

Eddie was beside himself with giggles, “I mean, that’s one way to get out of a speeding ticket.”

“You’re lucky I can’t smack you right now.” You ignored Eddie’s snickering and continued. “And I don’t think I’d mind being married to Quinn, he always smiles at me and asks how my day was. Plus he’s kind of cute, he’s got nice hair.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see it.”

You laughed, and the jingling tone of your voice suddenly sounded too loud as the buzzing of Eddie’s machine stopped. 

“Alright, Ace,” Eddie announced, leaning back to survey his work. “Check out your new ink.”

You didn’t need to look at it again to know it would be perfect, but you looked anyway. You stood on your sleeping legs and gazed at the little black bat on your hip- it sat beautifully balanced on the skin framed by your high cut leotard, and you knew at once that you’d think of Eddie each time you saw it. This was exactly what you wanted- a daily reminder of exactly how he made you feel, of who he was to you. 

At this moment, it dawned on you exactly what it was that Eddie made you feel. The way you always wanted to be around him, and the way he had become a balloon that inflated your chest every time he made you laugh, and how you knew- just knew- that you’d follow him anywhere if he asked. 

You loved Eddie Munson. You were in love with him. 

And you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot at that little asymmetrical bat.

Taglist: @emma77645 , @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92

[satoruzlove]

mornings with boyfriend hajime💗

in your shared apartment with lots of windows, you both find yourself off for the day and sleep in- or at least it was your intention to. you spent all of the prior night watching horror movies in bed, holding hands and eventually falling asleep on eachother. it was a blissful sleep , but hajime always found it that way when he slept with you. it was like your presence just served to release stress from his body, and he always felt like a new man when he woke.

this sun kissed morning was no different, as he rose with the sun to see your peaceful face against a pillow. a shirt, his shirt, had ridden up your thighs slightly and it only added to how sweet you looked. a calloused hand came up to brush some hair from your face, and your boyfriend couldn’t help but smile into the morning air at how perfect you could possibly be. the birds outside and the warm sunlight encasing you both gave him a true feeling of peace.

hajime wastes almost no time in putting on some proper pants and getting out of bed silently, cautious of your precious, sleeping form in the bed. he cleans up, never tiring of seeing your toothbrush in the same cup as his, your skincare next to his lotions and every other piece of proof that you were in his space- infesting and growing into every aspect of his life. the brunette thought he would start up breakfast, opening the curtains in the kitchen and relishing in the light once more before tying up an apron.

he did his best to be quiet as before, but of course the pots and pans had minds of their own. shortly, you stirred and groaned at the loss of your lover next to you. you stretched a bit, a sigh falling from your lips as you made your way to the source of noise, your very own dennis the menace, in your kitchen. you nearly passed a comment, but the sight before you was far too hypnotic.

hajime’s built, tanned back caught the sunlight perfectly. his freckled skin nearly glistened, muscles beneath it flexing as he moved his arms. his hair was absolutely ruffled, sticking up in different directions and almost seeming golden in the morning light that so graciously beamed through your windows. the plaid pants he wore hung lowly on his hips, holding him the same way you do as you sleep- and to say he looked perfect standing behind the stove was an atrocious understatement.

you snuck up behind him, careful to make no sound. you wound your arms around his waist, and as you placed a kiss on his spine he smiled into the pan. turning off the stove, his larger hands encased yours to place a firm kiss on your knuckles. those same hands make quick, easy work of picking you up, locking your legs around him as he held you up by your thighs. hajime took note of the softness of your lips, the sparkle in your eyes and god , your smile. your smile made it hard for him to breathe.

“morning, troublemaker,” he hums into your forehead, gifting you another kiss. you giggle, eyelashes tickling his chin as you hum back affectionately. he sets you down on the counter, the cold marble making you yelp but swiftly fading away as your boyfriend rubbed loving circles on your thighs with his thumb. his green eyes caught the sun, shining and making the inhuman blowing of his pupils obvious. “you could’ve stayed with me , in bed,haji.” you hum, your hands around his neck now as you rub the back of it- where a small tattoo of your birth flower resided.

he kisses your jaw, “i know, sweetheart,’m sorry. you know i can’t be still for that long, would’a woken you,” he mumbles, pressing many, many more kisses to your neck and jaw. truthfully. you could tell he was paying no attention to what you were saying. you hold his face in your hands, bumping his nose with yours, “hey,” he whispers, eyes searching yours. his hands caged your hips as he leaned against the counter, you could feel his body heat nearly creeping onto your own skin. everything about hajime was absolutely intoxicating.

“baby,” he breathes. it’s almost a sigh, nearing a whine and if you squinted- a dreamy whisper. you know what he wants, hajime is far too greedy in that regard. so you kiss him, lips meshing with his as his hands hold your hips as if he wanted to make hand prints into your skin.

mornings with you felt like the beginning of a fairytale to iwaizumi hajime.

[pervertedreams]

thinking about eddie going too prom, of course he didn’t plan on it. tells everyone he thinks it’s lame and another reason to get people to waste their money and time. secretly he does wanna go, but he knows he’d be so out of place, that is until you start dating him. at first he’s hesitant with saying yes, doesn’t wanna bruise his “i don’t care” persona. but to see the small smile that creeps on your face, and the way your eyes gleam with hopes he’ll say yes.. he can’t ignore it. can’t just turn you down.

now it’s the night of, twenty minutes before the big day. he didn’t ever find the time to get an outfit, so his uncle lends him a random blazer. eddie panics as he scuffles through his closet for the black button up he wore to his great-grandfathers funeral a few years back. he can’t help but think how embarrassing that it, but instantly soothes himself with the thought of you not knowing or caring. he’s also lucky enough to find a pair of black jeans that aren’t ripped. he’s standing in front on his bathroom mirror, cheeks flushed and brows furrowed with excitement and worry. what if you change your mind last minute, someone finally gained the courage to ask last minute? or what if he looks like a goofball standing next to you, i mean that was already the case in his mind but it’s prom so what if it’s worse? what if you think his prom outfit looks trashy and put-together? what if he chickens out and just stays home? what if? what if? what if?

the sudden sound of a piercing knock on the door snaps himself out of his doubting thoughts, the sound of his uncles gravely voice calms his nerves. “you alright in there son? y/n’s already on her way.” he informs. at first eddie nods but realizes he can’t seem him beyond the door, “yeah, just freshening up. i’ll be out in a bit!” he shouts back, for some reason he waits until the heavy thud of his uncles boots fade off into another part of the trailer.

his eyes are now fixed back on him through the mirror, he’s on his last button. cocking his head to the side, somethings not right? he looks too neat he thinks. he rolls his sleeves up and down debating on what looks better. but then he remembers that time you said you like when his tattoos are noticeable.

you’re tracing the inked lines that infest his pale skin, admiring each one carefully as his chest falls and rises. he’s looking down at you with awe, the relationship is still fresh and he’s still in shock that you’re dating him. he grins when you kiss over ones of his chest tattoos, he doesn’t wear them often but every once in a while he wear a v-neck and it makes you feral every time. he’s taken notice to it too.

“you enjoying yourself?” he’s being smug as always, you share the same grin he had on his face earlier, nodding in response. “i like it when i can see your tattoos.” you admit.

he hums before yelping when you bit at his scattered bat tattoo. “what was that for?”

“you bit my ass earlier this morning.” you roll your eyes as you reposition yourself to straddle his thighs. he claims that the situation was different and you can’t help but giggle at his insanity.

so he decides to keep them rolled up, he mentally admits that he looks cooler with them rolled anyways. he’s finally throwing the blazer on over his shoulders, arms threading through the holes of the jacket. he’s nervously fiddling with himself, feels like he’s picking apart everything wrong. he’s flicking the blazer on and off until he finally decides to keep it on. he’s fluffing his hair out, always thought the messier hair looked better on him. he’s readjusting his rings, and flattening the wrinkles in his pants with the palms out his now clammy hands. his ears perk when he hears the door slam and your dainty voice converting with his uncle.

his nerve levels kick in by one hundred was he checks himself again and again in the mirror, hoping you think he looks good. he’s so nervous and scatter brain he bumps into the bathroom door, completely forgetting to open it like a ditz.

but when he finally opens the door and lays his eyes on you, they instantly sparkle and gleam with love. you look like an angel, hair, makeup, dress all perfectly crafted. you picked the perfect color, it’s in the perfect shade. the way it bounces off your complexion, the way it matches with your makeup. he knows it’s not the time but he’s instantly bricked up LMAO.

the both of you are slowly making your way too each other, both in shock of one another.

“baby you look— i mean this is.. i don’t know you look—“

“my nephew is tryna say you look beautiful.” uncle wayne’s heavy accent interrupts his nephews stammering.

you grin wide, sharing a lovely compliment back. “you clean up quite nice, eddie.” he cockily yet playfully shrugs, when he agrees with your statement. you share a hug and a kiss before uncle wayne transforms into a full blown mom and bombards the two of you with photo taking.

and yes when you get there steve is doing the EXACT SAME. telling all of you to squeeze in for a photo, forcing jason to take a photo of you all just to irritate him cause he knows he won’t fuck with him.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Some random notes on Joshi's design because I can.

Or I talk about accent colours on discord and paste it here. This is a long post that contains nudes, however it is placed under a cut with a disclaimer.

Joshi's main colours are black, beige and vermillion. I tend to describe his magicka aura as also being an orangy-red as well. Vermillion is his accent colour design wise.

The vast majority of his clothing is either black or neutral-toned, so that makes the accent colour pop.

So whilst that second one is an outdated design, it's using the same basic idea. Vermillion accents on neutral coloured clothing.

He adds elements of chitin plate as parts break or become extinct. So the armour has a large beige component by 4E199. But I haven't done a fully finished version of him in full armour just yet. It's essentially this Netch leather set that I've modified.

I use a lot of steppe cultural influences in his costumes, there's fun flippy toes from his gutals.

One day I'll finish the flats on these but this is his mid-game Morrowind armour, has a lot of ashlander elements to it for wandering through the blight infested areas.

It's mostly dark chitin plate and boiled netch leather. He's technically wearing a chitin helmet but it's wrapped in a plain linen wrap with a vermillion accent.

Both line arts are the same armour set in various stages of disrepair as he fights his way through Kogoruhn. Pants are a faded olive green, shirt is the same plain linen that wraps his helmet and the netch leather is a darkish grey purple. Salk chitin is used for his plate. Scarf and sash are vermillion.

Now for some talk on the secondary colour that I use for his nudes, under the cut due to blatant nudity.

Josh does have a secondary accent colour, which is violet. Mostly it's emphasised when I'm painting him without clothes, but his face tats dictate the colour of his Morag Tong tat (violet) and his prisoner serial number dictates the colour of his marriage tattoo (black).

So whilst his main accent colour is still surrounding him, and I've used it again in his lounge robe in the sfw piece. The nude shows the secondary colour is a dusty violet.

The purple I've chosen below is because it ties him to the Blighted hive mind, which is always presented as ash skin and darkness until one reaches Aetherius. (or becoming an Ascended).

Below I'm pulling magenta for an accent since it's a medium between the two main colours (as suggested by @naturalbornlosers who hit the nail on the head). I use the colour as his ash goggle lens tint too.

[theladyregret]

Drow Name Tables

Something I did as a special favor to @kimmurielsscryingmirror (@eldritchmist ) who showed interest. Because it’s...pretty big I decided to make it into it’s own post.

These are a few Drow naming tables that were originally found in an issue of Dragon Magazine. It’s two d100 tables of prefixes and suffixes commonly used in first names. The second couple of tables is a list of common house name prefixes and suffixes.

EDIT: Just a little something for those who care which I didn’t add before because it took me so long to finish the transcription I just wanted to post it lol. The gender difference is noted in the related Dragon Magazine article as being significant. Non Drow may not notice but a Drow will notice the difference. Female names sometimes borrow parts that are normally only considered male and this is considered fine...but a male with a name that borrows a typically only female part would be seen as extremely taboo.

Prefix (Female/Male) - Meaning

Akor/Alak                 beloved, best, first

Alaun/Alton             lightning, powerful

Aly/Kel                     legendary, singing, song

Ang/Adin                  beast, monstrous, savage

Ardul/Amal               blessed, divine, godly

Aun/Ant                   crypt, dead, deadly, death

Bae/Bar                      fate, fated, luck, lucky

Bal/Bel                       burned, burning, fire, flame

Belar/Bruh                 arrow, lance, piercing

Briz/Berg                    graceful, fluid, like water

Bur/Bhin                     craft, crafty, sly

Chal/Chasz                earth, stable

Char/Kron                  sick, venom, venomed

Chess/Cal                  noble, lady/lord

Dhaun                          infested, plague

Dil/Dur                         cold, ice, still

Dirz/Div                       dream, dreaming, fantasy

Dris/Riz                        ash, dawn, east, eastern

Eclav/Elk                      chaos, mad, madness

Elvan/Kalan                 elf, elven, far, lost

Elv/Elaug                     drow, mage, power

Erel/Rhyl                      eye, moon, spy

Ethe/Erth                    mithril, resolute

Faer/Selds                   oath, sworn, vow

Felyn/Fil                       pale, thin, weak, white

Filf/Phar                     dwarf, dwarven, treacherous

Gauss/Orgoll              dread, fear, feared, vile

G'eld                              friend, spider  

Ghuan                           accursed, curse, unlucky

Gin/Din                         berserk, berserker, orc, wild

Grey/Gul                       ghost, pale, unliving

Hael/Hatch                   marked, trail, way

Hal/Sol                           deft, nimble, spider-like  

Houn/Rik                       magic, ring, staff

Iiv/Dip                             liege, war, warrior

Iim                                   life, living, spirit, soul

Illiam/Im                         devoted, heart, love

In/Sorn                           enchanted, spell

Ilph                                  emerald, green, lush, tree

Irae/Ilzt                           arcane, mystic, wizard

Irr/Izz                               hidden, mask, masked

Iym/Ist                            endless, immortal  

Jan/Duag                       shield, warded

Jhael/Gel                       ambitious, clan, kin, family

Jhul/Jar                         charmed, rune, symbol

Jys/Driz                         hard, steel, unyielding

Lael/Llt                           iron, west, western

Lar/Les                          binding, bound, law, lawful

LiNeer/Mourn            legend, legendary, mythical  

Lird/Ryld                   brand, branded, owned, slave

Lua/Lyme                       bright, crystal, light

Mal/Malag                     mystery, secret

May/Mas                         beautiful, beauty, silver

Micar                                lost, poison, widow

Min/Ran                           lesser, minor, second

Mol/Go                            blue, storm, thunder, wind

Myr/Nym                       lost, skeleton, skull

Nath/Mer                        doom, doomed, fate

Ned/Nad               cunning, genius, mind, thought

Nhil/Nal                 fear, gorrible, horror, outraged

Neer                                  core, root, strong

Null/Nil                             sad, tear, weeping

Olor/Omar                       skin, tattoo, tattooed

Pellan/Relon                    north, platiunum, wind

Phaer/Vorn                      honor, honored

Phyr/Phyx                        bless, blessed, blessing

Qualn/Quil                        mighty, ocean, sea

Quar                                   aged, eternal, time

Quav/Quev                        charmed, docile, friend

Qil/Quil                               foe, goblin, slave

Rauv/Welv                         cave, rock, stone

Ril/Ryl                                 foretold, omen

Sbat/Szor                           amber, yellow

Sab/Tsab                            abyss, empty, void  

Shi'n/Kren                          fool, foolish, young

Shri/Ssz                             silk, silent  

Shur/Shar                          dagger, edge, stiletto

Shynt                                 invisible, skilled, unseen

Sin/Szin                              festival, joy, pleasure

Ssap/Tath                          blue, midnight, night

Susp/Spir                           learned, skilled, wise

Talab/Tluth                        burn, burning, fire

Tal/Tar                         love, pain, wound, wounded

Triel/Taz                           bat, winged

T'riss/Teb                           blade, sharp, sword  

Ulvir/Uhls                           gold, golden, treasure

Umrae/Hurz                       faith, faithful, true

Vas/Vesz                            blood, bloody, flesh

Vic                                       abyss, deep, profound

Vier/Val                               black, dark, darkness

Vlon/Wod                           bold, hero, heroic

Waer/Wehl             deep, hidden, south, southern  

Wuyon/Wruz                      humble, third, trivial

Xull/Url                                 blooded, crimson, ruby

Xun                                       demon, fiend, fiendish

Yas/Yaz                       riddle, spinning, thread, web

Zar/Zakn                             dusk, haunted, shadow

Zebey/Zek                        dragon, lithe, rage, wyrm

Zes/Zsz                              ancient, elder, respected

Zilv/Vuz                             forgotten, old, unknown

Suffixes (Female/Male) - Meaning

a/agh                  breaker, destruction, end, omega

ace/as                                savant, scholar, wizard

ae/aun                             dance, dancer, life, player

aer/d                                    blood, blood of, heir

afae/afein                         bane, executioner, slayer

afay/aufein                        eyes, eyes of, seer

ala/launim                          healer, cleric

anna/erin                            advisor, counselor to

arra/atar                             queen/prince

aste                                      bearer, keeper, slaver

avin/aonar                           guardian, guard, shield

ayne/al                       lunatic, maniac, manic, rage

baste/gloth                         path, walker

breena/antar                   matriach/patriarch, ruler

bryn/lyn                               agent, assassin, killer

cice/roos                             born of, child, young  

cyrl/axle                               ally, companion, friend

da/daer                                illusionist, trickster

dia/drin                                rogue, stealer

diira/diirn                             initiate, sister/brother

dra/zar                                  lover, match, mate  

driira/driirn                         mother/father, teacher  

dril/dorl                                 knight, sword, warrior

e                                           servant, slave, vessel

eari/erd                                 giver, god, patron

eyl                                       archer, arrow, flight, flyer

ffyn/fein                               minstrel, singer, song

fryn              champion, victor, weapon, weapon of

iara/ica                                 baron, duke, lady/lord  

ice/eth                                 obsession, taker, taken  

idil/imar           alpha, beginning, creator of, maker

iira/inid                                 harbinger, herald

inidia                                     secret, wall, warder

inil/in                                     lady/lord, rider, steed

intra                               envoy, messenger, prophet

isstra/atlab               acolyte, apprentice, student

ithra/irahc                         dragon, serpent, wyrm

jra/gos                                 beast, biter, stinger

jss                                          scout, stalker

kacha/kah                            beauty, hair, style

kiira/raen                              apostle, disciple

lay/dyn                               flight, flyer, wing, wings

lara/aghar                         cynic, death, end, victim

lin                                         arm, armor, commander

lochar                                   messenger, spider

mice/myr           bone, bones, necromancer, witch  

mur'ss                                   shadow, spy, witness

na/nar                                 adept, ghost, spirit

nilee/olil                             corpse, disease, ravager

niss/nozz                           chance, gambler, game

nitra/net                              kicker, returned, risen

nolu                                 art, artist, expert, treasure

olin                                   ascension, love, lover, lust

onia/onim                           rod, staff, token, wand

oyss/omph                       binder, judge, law, prison

qualyn                                 ally, caller, kin

quarra/net                           horde, host, legion

quiri/oj                                  aura, cloak, hide, skin

ra/or                                     fool, game, prey, quarry

rae/rar                                   secret, seeker, quest

raema/orvir                         crafter, fist, hand

raena/olvir                            center, haven, home

riia/rak                       enchanter, mage, spellcaster

ril                                 bandit, enemy, raider, outlaw

riina/ree                     enchanter, mage, spellcaster

ryna/oyn                         follower, hired, mercenary

ryne/ryn                      blooded, elder, experienced

shalee/ral                 abjurer, gaze, watch, watcher

ssysn/rysn          artifact, dweomer, sorcerer, spell

stin/trin         clan, house, merchant, of the house

stra/tran                             spider, spinner, weaver

tana/ton                           darkness, lurker, prowler

thara/tar                             glyph, marker, rune

thrae/olg                          charmer, leader, seducer

tree/tel                         exile, loner, outcast, pariah

tyrr                    dagger, poison, poisoner, scorpion

ual/dan                                speed, strider

ue/dor                                  arm, artisan, fingers

uit/dar                                  breath, voice, word

une/diin                         diviner, fate, future, oracle

uque                              cavern, digger, mole, tunnel  

urra/dax                       nomad, renegade, wanderer

va/ven                             comrade, honor, honored

vayas                         forge, forger, hammer, smith

vyll punishment, scourge, whip, zealot  

vyrae/vyr                     mistress/master, overseer

wae/hrae                           heir, inheritor, princess

wiira/hriir                           seneschal of, steward

wyss/hrys                          best, creator, starter

xae/zaer                             orb, rank, ruler, sceptor

xena/zen                         cutter, gem, jewel, jeweler

xyra/zyr                             sage, teller

yl                                          drow, woman/man

ylene/yln         handmaiden/squire, maiden/youth

ymma/inyon                      drider, feet, foot, runner

ynda/yrd        captain, custodian, marshal, ranger  

ynrae/yraen                       heretic, rebel, riot, void

vrae                                   architect, founder, mason  

yrr                                         protector, rival, wielder

zyne/zt                                finder, hunter

House Name Prefixes - Meaning

Alean                        the noble line of

Ale                             traders in

Arab                          daughters of

Arken                        mages of

Auvry                        blood of the  

Baen                          blessed by

Barri                           spawn of

Cladd                         warriors from

Desp                          victors of

De                               champions of

Do'                              walkers in

Eils                              lands of

Everh                         the caverns of

Fre                              friends of

Gode                          clan of  

Helvi                          those above

Hla                              seers of

Hun'                           the sisterhood of

Ken                            sworn to

Kil                               people of

Mae                           raiders from  

Mel                            mothers of

My                              honored of

Noqu                         sacred to

Orly                            guild of

Ouss                           heirs to

Rilyn                           house of  

Teken'                        delvers in  

Tor                               mistresses of

Zau                              children of

House Name Suffixes - Meaning

afin                              the web

ana                               the night

ani                                the widow

ar                                   poison

arn                                fire

ate                                the way

ath                                the dragons

duis                              the whip

ervs                              the depths

ep                                  the underdark

ett                                 magic

ghym                            the forgotten ways

iryn                               history

lyl                                  the blade

mtor                             the abyss

ndar                              black hearts

neld                              the arcane

rae                                 fell powers

rahel                             the gods

rret                                the void

sek                                 adamantite

th                                    challenges

tlar                                 mysteries

t'tar                                victory

tyl                                   the pits

und                                 the spider's kiss

urden                             the darkness

val                                   silken weaver

viir                                  dominance

zynge                             the ruins

[alcestas-sloboda]

Curse the Ukrainian nazis and their *checks notes* Jewish President and Muslim Minister of Defense

Compare that to fine upstanding groups that russia has, like wagner and their now dead commander with the ss tattoos. No nazis there. I mean would putin lie about there being nazis in Ukraine while they're infesting the russian military?

That anon truly is a free thinker, you can tell, all the best free thinkers parrot kremlin propaganda, no matter how stupid the claim is

I mean it's just terrible how Ukraine has totally wiped out russia using their super soldier mosquitoes full of viruses that target specifically russian DNA, not to mention those dirty bombs we were told Ukraine was building... they kind of seem to just forget about and drop those stories, huh?

Forget the last crazy thing they said, it's time for a new crazy conspiracy, but the one thing that will stay is calling Ukrainians nazis, that's one idiot piece of propaganda they'll never get bored of I guess

it would be genuinely funny if this narrative of theirs wasn’t so harmful for Ukrainian image in the world. like yeah not a single one of us here takes it serious anymore because you can’t seriously call me a nazi in any shape or form but this propaganda story negatively affects decision making on military aid that we receive from other countries.

[rottenpumpkin13]

SOLDIER Fanclubs Conspiracy Theories

A compilation of speculation and murmur amongst the Silver Elite, Keepers of Honor and Red Leather.

Sephiroth wears a wig

Genesis can't read and has just memorized LOVELESS to make people think he can

Angeal has been arrested twice before

Sephiroth is an android

Genesis has gotten three separate women pregnant, one of which was Sephiroth

Angeal can't actually lift his buster sword

Genesis definitely does drag in his off time

Sephiroth and Genesis are secretly married

Zack Fair is Angeal's child

Sephiroth can barely read too. That's why he points and mouths at whatever he's reading

Genesis is deathly afraid of squirrels

Angeal and Sephiroth accidentally burned Genesis's first copy of LOVELESS and replaced it

Sephiroth doesn't exist

Genesis is secretly plotting to place hair-removal in Sephiroth's shampoo

Angeal has had penis reduction surgery

Sephiroth is addicted to spaghetti and meatballs

Genesis isn't a natural redhead

Angeal's facial hair is sprayed on

Genesis has been to therapy for his LOVELESS addiction

Sephiroth is part cat and turns into a cat every full moon

Angeal swears A LOT

Genesis puts dumbapples in everything literally EVERYTHING

Sephiroth's breath smells like disinfectant

Genesis is colorblind and can only see red, that's why it's the only color he wears

Angeal has caused multiple insect infestations in the ShinRa tower due to his plants

Angeal has a pet snake named Genesisssss

"Sephiroth" is an alias and his real name is Anthony

Angeal has multiple secret tattoos, one of which is "certified DILF" on his back

Genesis lies about his age and he's actually younger than the other two

Genesis has an evil twin named Revelation

Angeal gets paid by ShinRa to put up with Sephiroth and Genesis

Angeal, Genesis and Sephiroth are actually married and have adopted Zack and Cloud as their kids

Genesis plans on sacrificing his friends to the goddess to obtain the gift

Sephiroth will eventually turn evil

Cloud Strife is from the future

Sephiroth can't swim

[crvwly]

because we’re carrying the fire ˚🕯️♱‧₊˚.

a good omens human-au horror fic by gaytectives

rating: explicit

(2/6+) ii. INFESTATION

When a tall, disinterested redhead with sunglasses and a face tattoo walks into Tadfield Drip, Aziraphale's stomach bottoms out.

Oh, good Lord, he thinks, cheeks warming. Well, if that's not him, Aziraphale will eat his tie.

listen to the companion playlist while you read! (x)

another avalanche of thank-yous to @disastroboy for the unbelievably helpful editing and @sorryisuckbutatleastiknow for beta-reading, editing, and hyping me up along the way! chapter two here we GO!

[mlmxreader]

Death Do Us Part | Alfie Solomons x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ "I just... I thought that you would always be mine" + "You will never not be a part of me"

[I don't have specifics but could you make this one angst? Heavy angst is totally fine btw] ❞

: ̗̀➛ The trenches are not somewhere that anyone wants to be, and what happens at night is worse than what happens during the day.

: ̗̀➛ graphic depictions of death & injury, swearing, eaten alive, rats, eye gore

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The sounds coming from No Man's Land would forever echo against the tall wooden graves; burial sites of a land once flourishing and blooming with life, now scarred and wounded with such great cuts that could never heal.

Trees that were once beautiful dark greens in summer and would happily rest with nests on their powerful arms, were now barren and black and smelled of rot and decay. Nothing lived anymore.

Bushes did not grow fruit, spiders did not spin webs, birds did not sing. Nothing lived anymore. The sounds were made up of loud groaning mixed with screeching; sometimes the squeak of rats could be heard as they bit down on achy eyeballs and chewed through the soft, popping flesh.

Hoards of them would gather at night, feasting upon the soldiers who were injured and left on the battlefield; their deaths would be slow, eaten alive from the stomach and out of their backs and through their spines until their bodies gave up. It was a slow, terrible way to go.

Amongst the trenches, it wasn't much easier. Ticks and lice infested every man, regardless of if they were alice or dead, and food was constantly in short supply; the soldiers took to frying their parasites over small fires, and still found their stomachs gurgling and gargling.

Many of them were malnourished, their faces sunken, and their eyes slowly being sucked into their skulls. Disease was rife and rampant.

The mud and the dirt and the clay managed to sneak in through clothes and boots with ease, and if a man fell into the designated shit pits... he would have to stay in his dirty, disgusting uniform. Nobody was having a pleasant time.

Alfie sat by the edge of the trench the entire night, weeping with his face buried in his hands; the hot tears cascading through his fingertips as his body trembled and shook. It was the closest he could get, his fingers and knuckles stinging and raw and red.

His head was pounding, and the snot trickling down his face was sticking to his beard. He could still hear you struggling. The wet slap of the mud as you tried to drag yourself closer to the edge of the trench, leaving behind a slick and sticky trail as your lungs started to get smaller and smaller.

Alfie knew it was his own fault. He had tried too hard and too much to protect you, and he had killed you. He knew that his hands would forever be coated in blood, smeared all over his tattoos and stained on his pale palms for the whole world to see and then some.

He had tried to protect you. He had failed.

He could still picture it as he wept, rocking back and forth without even realising it.

You were wearing his gas mask, as yours had been damaged by enemy fire and there were no spares; he had pissed on a cloth and held it to his face in hopes that it would prevent the gas from getting to him. It didn't.

His eyes still burned, and he still let a string of greenish yellow foam spill from his throat as he tried to seek relief. You struggled to secure the gas mask, and he was too late to reach you; he watched with wide eyes when the bullet tore through your neck.

The sound of your gargling as you hit the ground and struggled, and although Alfie did his best to find his way to you, he was ripped away by the commanding officer; Jamie was the Colonel, and had wasted no time and grabbing Alfie by the shoulder and dragging him away from you.

And now Alfie was here; listening to you die slowly as he wept and wished that he had never tried to protect you.

Maybe if he hadn't tried, it would have saved you and maybe it would have allowed you to live another day. It was all his fault, and he knew it all too well. It was his fault.

He would have to tell his mother; she would be devastated to hear that he had killed his husband. She would hate him and scorn him for it, and he knew it. Everybody back home would detest him for it, and he couldn't even bring himself to try and absolve himself; he knew that they would be right.

He had killed you.

"Stay down, Solomons!" Jamie called when he noticed Alfie tear his hands away from his face and shakily grasp the ladder. "He's a dead man, now."

Alfie glared at him, clenching his jaw tightly. "So bloody what?"

"So," Jamie sighed as he took a few steps forward. Missing a hand, his blue eyes were full of sorrow as he swallowed thickly and shook his head. Golden hair cut short. "There's no use in trying to get him back. He's a dead man, Solomons. We don't fight for dead men."

Alfie shook his head. "That dead man saved your life. He saved mine! He was mine!"

"I know," Jamie whispered. "Just let him be, aye? He won't last til morning - rats are gonna get him."

"Just let me bring back his body," Alfie whispered. "Just his fuckin' body. Let me at least say goodbye to him, for fuck's sake."

Jamie checked his watch, then listened closely for a moment before nodding curtly. "Five minutes. If Jerry starts the blitz again, you get your arse back in this trench, aye?"

"Yes," Alfie agreed with gritted teeth before hoisting himself over the ladder and slamming into the mud and onto his stomach.

With a groan, he picked himself up, and collapsed by your side; on his back, he pulled your hand to his chest, flipping you over and pressing his temple to yours as he sniffled. You were weak, hardly responsive and only able to groan.

"I just... I thought you would always be mine until we died," Alfie grumbled. "I thought we'd grow old, together... it was always fuckin' meant to be us against all the other cunts in the world..."

Your breathing got shallower, and when he slipped his finger down to your wrist, he wept softly.

"Know I fuckin' loved you," he continued with a trembling voice, "know that you will never not be a part of me... I will never fuckin' let you go, alright? You're always gonna fuckin' be with me."

You spasmed, and he frowned as he turned onto his side and kissed your temple gently; his hot tears against your slowly cooling skin.