#but id be interested in seeing that nonetheless

[reblog-house]

Convex but in Evo. No, I don't have any ideas beyond that, and I have no clue how that would work since Evo started on October 2017 aka in the middle of hermitcraft season 5 aka a few days before convex's 7th prank. I thought maybe it could be after s5 and before s6 but realized that both seasons are just a few days apart and by that point Evo had slowed down significantly. But imagine that at some point, back when the server was more active, they showed up. Could you imagine.

I have no idea how convex would go from Hermitcraft to Evo, but please. It would be so funny. I know vexes weren't a thing back in Evo versions so they wouldn't be able to wear their vex masks but. Pretend for a second. Pretend for a second that that doesn't matter and yes I know they wouldn't be able to fly either (not much of a change, considering Scar's horrible ping for flying- headcanon he's got. Some wing disability. Not sure what yet) but please. Consider the pranks. I know they'd have less materials to work with but please. I can't be the only one with this vision. I feel cursed. This is what watching Scar's S5 does to a person.

Also, the evolutioners needed someone else to keep them on their toes besides the Watchers. The Watchers liked to, well, watch and judge their actions, maybe a prank here and there if they deemed it necessary, but Convex? That's not how convex works. I mean yeah if you wrong them, you immediately go to their pranks book, but they don't need a reason to strike. Or they make up a reason altogether. That would've brought some much-needed chaos into the evolutioners' lives.

Also I have no idea how the Watchers would feel about them lmao. A part of me thinks they'd be a bit antagonistic towards them (like they were to Grian) but maybe they'd grow fond of them because they're really not bad people outside of their masks. Idk. I just think that there's so much to be explored with this concept.

Also, I'd love to see them interact with the people there. I have a feeling they'd develop a friendly rivalry with the Property Police. I think the PP would start it, but now Convex is Definitely not backing down.

Imagine Pearl appears later and finds a world with a bunch of untouchable pranks around (oh, convex would retaliate against Grian everytime he takes down their pranks) and some shoddy attempts at mimicking vex banners back when such a thing didn't exist yet. She'd be confused, but I can't help but feel she'd become quick allies with them. She'd still join Grian's Empire, but she'd help with the pranks on G. An honorary vex.

[katanayume]

this is how i feel fr

[lustlovehart]

scara has been the boy of the month for so long now i am just so desperate for sfw scara content id kill for any crumbs

A/n: Wasnt sure if you meant Wanderer or Scaramouche, so I sorta assumed you meant Scaramouche.

Summary: The ballader has quite the habit, and you're curious as to how deep into it he is, so you take it upon yourself to find out.

Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything?

Scaramouche has always had this odd habit of... Staring at you. At the begining you found it quite odd, but as time went on you didn't seem to be bothered too much by it, in fact, it'd be unnerving if he wasn't staring at you for once.

When you're not around for him to look at, his eyes will always fall on to something that reminds him of you, whether it be a book you had an acute interest in, or a mess you had left in his room because you had went out in a hurry. To him, if you're not there by his side, perhaps the next big thing is to cling onto whatever remnants you had left behind for him.

Whenever you walked through the streets of Snezhnaya, you ears can't help but pick up on his subordinates whispers, the cold wind carrying them through to you.

"Are you sure Lord Scaramouche and [Name] aren’t... You know... Seeing eachother...?"

"Whenever they're together, his eyes never leave them! It's like his pupils are physically attached to them!"

"The Lord even has a picture of [Name] in his pocket, though it changes everyday… I can't tell if he switches the photo out or if he just has multiple photos of them on hand..."

“Lord Scaramouche will surely kill us if he hears what we’re saying of him! Quiet down!”

Their discussions make you pause, you’re sure most of them are just exaggerations, but nonetheless you continue with your day, it's not like you could confirm or deny these accusations, considering you yourself dont even know that status between you two.

Though, you are quite curious as to what these photos he has of you are... Perhaps you can find out, a rare harbinger meeting had been issued as of today, so maybe now is your chance.

Your shoes click against his office, the cold from outside still being felt but not too much.

Your fingers slide open the drawer of Scaras desk, while not too neat, it’s not horrendous either. Your eyes immediately catch on to a little picture book, one he had always held on to but has never let you seen through, well almost always, he never trusted bringing any valuables to meetings, lest they be discreetly taken from him by a certain banker.

When opened it seemed to be photos of you, and some trinkets and hobbies you had mentioned to him about enjoying. Coincidentally enough, they were all photos you took awhile back with a kamera you had in possession before it had broken down. Each photo has a tiny date written in the corner, as well as a little descriptions of the events that had happened.

“[Name] and me walking through Snezhnya”

“[Name] looking at flowers”

“A butterfly [Name] took a picture of, it reminds me of them”

They all weren’t too descriptive, but they warmed your heart to see anyway. Your fingers flipped one more time before you were greeted by a photo you didn’t take yourself.

“Everything I want to give [Name]”

In the photo, several items you had expressed a liking towards were in frame, some expensive and others cheaper. This time, the description had been on the back of the film, neat handwriting engraved into the back.

“If I look at them long enough, they’ll be engraved into my memory, and I won’t have to be left with nothing again.”

You’re not too sure on what he meant by it, sometimes he seems to say something cryptic to you and then never explain it ever after that.

The more you think about it, that seemed too short to be something of his that he wrote. You put the photo book back into the drawer, moving your hand to open the next one before the door swings open at an immaculate speed.

“What do you think you’re doing [Name]”

“Uhm… Waiting, for you…?” The expression his face shifts into obviously tells you he doesn’t believe it, but all he can really do is walk towards you and grab your wrist, swiftly pulling you away from his desk. “Where are we going Kuni?” The both of you quickly dash out the door, a loud thud echoing through the halls with how hard the man closed it.

“We’re getting dinner of course, having to meet with those bastards has given me a headache.”

“I don’t have money on me right now…”

“What? I’m paying for you obviously, now hurry up.”

He doesn’t need to tell you about how he knew you were looking at his belongings of you, he just thinks of how lucky he made it before you could find the drawers, filled to the brim with letters he wants to give you, all of them in which, if someone else had laid eyes upon them, would have no doubt every single page is a love letter.

You don’t need to know how weak for you he truly is, and he’d like to keep it that way.

“So, do you really keep photos of me with you all the time-“

“Stop speaking.”

———-

Scara who is super in love with reader but never wants them to know that>>

[explosionkatsu]

“Age doesn’t matter” 7

Dad!Bakugo x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

The next day arrived and Katsuki behaved toward Y/n as if nothing occurred in her apartment.

After what he witnessed yesterday, Katsuki decided to entrust Y/n. He decided to rely on her concerning Kazui. He wouldn't acknowledge it of course but she's a huge benefit to him. The only thing he should do is to make Y/n officially Kazui's babysitter. He didn't mind her tutoring him as well. But he's confident Kazui didn't need tutoring knowing how intelligent his son is.

Y/n on the other hand was feeling frightened when she hasn't seen Katsuki drop Kazui. He probably took him away from her. But when she caught the same car Katsuki used, her heart pounded happily.

"Ms. Y/n! Ms. Y/n!"

Y/n beamed and rushed to Kazui providing him with a tight embrace. She thought she won't be able to see him again.

"Too tight, dumbass."

She heard Katsuki say.

She looked up at him happily causing Katsuki to be surprised. He has never seen that look from her before so it took him off guard but maintained his composure.

"Thank you." Y/n mouthed wiping a small tear from her eyes.

"Ms/ Y/n? Are you okay?" Kazui asked confusedly once Y/n let him go.

"I am, sweetie." Y/n smiled softly at him. "Now go inside, you want to have your first late attendance, right? It'll ruin your record."

Kazui looked at her terrified. "Nooo!!" He yelled dashing towards the school entry.

Both adults watched him make his way inside without stumbling or tripping.

When Kazui faded from their view, Y/n turn in Katsuki's direction.

Katsuki on the other hand was bewildered. Why wasn't he leaving? Was he waiting for Y/n to say something to him?

"Thank you for bringing him today, Katsuki," Y/n said softly as she shift her gaze to her feet.

"The hell are you saying? It's his school. Fuck off." Katsuki reacted looking away.

Y/n chuckled before responding, "W-well, after what occurred yesterday. I-

"What?" Katsuki questioned shifting his gaze towards her. "What happened yesterday was my fault. I should've known your side before jumping to conclusions." Katsuki confessed. What the hell was happening to him?

Y/n just smiled. "W-well then. If you're going to pick him up. You know where to go."

"Tch. You don't have to tell me!"

And with that, Katsuki left the smiling Y/n behind.

They both didn't notice the camera concealing from the trees around the school.

..

The night began to fall bringing Y/n’s shift to an end.

Like how she usually does, she would pack up the things she needed to do at home with Kazui’s belongings as well and flee the school before the sky dimmed.

It was a normal day and nothing interesting happened. And boy she was glad she’ll get her work ID anytime now since she’s a new employee and all.

Well like I said before, she was a babysitter, right?

Nonetheless, as they both reached her apartment, Kazui zoomed in instantly to turn the tv on while Y/n just put his stuff in her bedroom, along with hers.

When she came back dressed in comfortable clothes, she watches Kazui's eyes fixed on the tv. What was so interesting?

Out of curiosity, you take a glimpse at what he was watching.

There was his papa being interviewed. All bruised up. Catching this caused your eyes to widen.

Katsuki will pick Kazui soon, so that means he’ll be here at any moment now.

So what did you do? You headed to the bathroom and collected your aid kit.

Well, why do you need this when your quirk is healing?

Lemme tell you.

Y/n’s quirk is like any ordinary healing quirk. Broken bone? No problem. Destroyed muscle tissue? You got it. But the only drawback in her quirk is that whatever injury she heals, she’ll be the one suffering. If her body doesn't seize the pain, wounds, and scratches would appear everywhere on her body.

As much as possible, she tried and use it less due to the actuality that she knows it’ll come in handy. Just like today.

As soon as Katsuki messages her he’ll come over, she’s unpacking the contents from her kit.

She waited for him to come while preparing dinner and just to be sure, she prepared a meal good for 3 people because she kinda felt like he’ll be starving.

Then she heard a knock. Almost immediately, she patted her hands on the apron she was wearing and scurried to the front door. She even saw Kazui from her peripheral vision getting up from being seated comfortably and peering from the sofa, displaying only his eyes gazing curiously at the entrance.

When you unlock the door, reveals a Katsuki being held by a nervously grinning Eijiro.

“Hey.” Eijiro greeted. “Bakubro here said I should bring him here. Sorry about this though.”

“Uncle Kiri!” Kazui beamed, running towards him and giving him a big from his legs.

“Hey, there kiddo. I didn't know you’d be here.” Eijiro smiled.

“Red riot!” You exclaimed covering your mouth.

“Kirishima is fine. Hehe.” Eijiro said. “So uh, may we can in?”

“Oh my, please do!” You stepped aside letting Eijiro get in with Katsuki, almost dragging him to the sofa.

“Uncle, what happened to Papa?” Kazui instantly sat beside his unconscious father.

“Don’t worry kiddo. He’s just resting.” Eijirou assured before turning his gaze to you. “Do you have any med kit we can use?”

Y/n just smiled. Before she moves a chair near them, she first switched the fire from her stove and went back to them holding a chair.

“Let me help-

“No, please. You are injured as well. Just rest, okay?” Y/n smiled and place the chair in front of them and then went back to the kitchen to grab the med kit from the counter.

Once she got everything, Eijiro was about to thank her for bringing the kit they both needed, but Y/n halted him causing Red Riot to look at her confused.

“I have a healing quirk.” Y/n smiled softly at Eijiro.

“Really!?” Eijiro smiled feeling a bit better.

You nodded in response. “May I tend him first, Red Riot?”

“Please. Just Kirishima.” Eijiro sweatdropped making him scratch the back of his head.

“O-oh! Apology! Kirishima.” You said a little embarrassed.

Eijiro grinned saying it's not to worry about. He watches how Y/n’s demeanor turned serious.

He gazes at her intently seeing her closing her eyes as if focusing on her surrounding. Minutes now, Eijiro saw Y/n take a deep breath before slowly opening her eyes revealing a bright blue color.

Kazui, seeing this hid behind his father’s limp arm, as if scared.

Y/n saw this. She gave Kazui a closed eye smile. “Don’t be afraid sweetie. This is still me.”

Her focus went back to Katsuki. She held his hand gently and a small circle of light came out of her hand and visibly ran under Katsuki’s skin.

Eijiro and Kazui watched in amazement.

Once the light found where Katsuki was wounded, it slowly disappears.

Y/n though closed her eyes, slightly wincing.

The same scenario happened, the comforting light passing through Katsuki’s body, slowly healing him.

The scrapes, wounds, and bruises had been lost to sight from Katsuki’s skin. No scars or marks were left.

Eijiro’s eyes were wide. “That was. Awesome!”

Y/n chuckled at his childish reaction.

“You’re so cool- uh. What’s your name?”

“(First Name) (Last Name)” You smiled at him. “You can call me Y/n.”

“You’re so cool, Y/n!” Eijiro beamed at her.

“Thank you, Red- Kirishima.” You chuckled. “May I hold your hand?”

Eijiro blinked but nodded right away. He slightly reached his hand out to Y/n who held it.

She’s so gentle. What Eijiro thought. He watches her do what she did to Katsuki, only this time, it's his turn.

The light coming from her was comforting, almost like it was lulling him to sleep. He can even feel the pain from his injuries vanishes.

Minutes passed after Y/n finished healing both heroes.

Eijiro excitedly stood up and stretched. “Wow. Not even the Medic from our agency can do this. Thank you so much, Y/n! It really helps! If you need anything, you can just message me!” Eijiro said showing Y/n the result of her quirk. Although, his eyes turn to worry when he saw Y/n rubbing her arms as if wincing. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly and slowly approach her.

Y/n’s iris went back to its original form. She gave Eijiro a strained smile before responding. “Don’t worry. It's just the drawbacks of using my quirk.” You assured.

“Ms. Y/n! You have bruises!” Kazui got up beside his father who was stirring slightly as if waking up and rushes to his teacher’s side.

“What do you mean?” Eijiro asked worriedly, sitting back to where he was seated before.

Y/n was hesitant at first. But she knows sooner or later, they’ll know. So it's best if she just informs them. “Well, every time I use my quirk on someone, the pain taken out from them will be transferred to me. If my body couldn't deal with the pain, bruises would usually emerge,” she said smiling at Eijiro before showing the big purple bruise on her arm.

Eijiro’s eyes once again widen. “W-what!? Why would you use it on us t-then?!”

“Because you’re heroes,” Y/n said making Eijiro silent. “People need heroes. So you should be at your best.”

“The fuck is going on.”

“Papa!”

Y/n and Eijiro stopped conversing once they heard the familiar voice and shift both their faces to him.

Kazui tackled his father who was slowly sitting up. “Euf.”

“Papa! I’m glad you’re awake!” Kazui said embracing his father.

Katsuki let the sofa take all of his body weight. He raised a hand and placed it on Kazui’s head, patting it. “Tch. As if something like that could kill me.”

Y/n turns her gaze back to Eijiro looking at him worried. “Please don't tell him.” You mumbled.

Eijiro blinked. Why wouldn't you want Katsuki to know this?

Eijiro’s shoulder suddenly slumped making him sigh quietly. He then looked back at Y/n and just smiled before nodding his head.

..

Heroes' job was the hardest. That's what most all people would say. They would even sacrifice their lives just to maintain peace.

For Y/n, being a hero was the most common dream every student she has. She would watch them play, even argue because they don't want to play be the villain. She would only giggle every time one of her students ended up going to her just because they don't want the role their playmates assigned them.

But sometimes, Y/n would question herself.

Was it worth it?

Was it worth it seeing the people smile once they knew they were finally safe?

Was it worth it seeing the people rely on you for peace?

Was it even worth it?

No, she's not a villain. But sometimes these questions would cross her mind. Why now though?

Because of the scene in front of her.

Bakugo resting on the sofa watching Kirishima and Kazui interact. She would see Kirishima and Kazui laugh while Bakugo would smirk. Even hide a smile.

The scene in front of her was heart melting. Like normal family time.

..

"Now for our latest news. It seems that our no. 2 was now involved in a romantic relationship."

This statement made Katsuki and Kirishima flinched causing their attention to shift to the news.

"What?" Katsuki growled.

"Around 7 am this morning, Dynamight was found with a lady near the kindergarten school."

"It is said that Dynamight has been acting rather close to this kindergarten teacher."

"Based on the images we gathered. It shows Dynamight in his usual work outfit and the teacher having a conversation."

"Don't you think we're looking too deep into this, partner?"

"Well, they do seem like just having a normal conversation me." The newscaster laughed.

Pissed off, Katsuki flipped through the channel while glaring at the tv.

Eijiro was quiet though. He knows not to bother Katsuki when pissed. But the news surprised him causing him to divert his attention to his friend.

The media does this to spread false humor which Katsuki hated the most. Why can't they just mind their own business?

Although, his gaze shifted to Y/n who was taking her time preparing dinner for them.

Wait.

Since when did he let her prepare their meal?

And the fuck happened to his wounds?

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

WC: 1.6k

SYNOPSIS: ghostface ! Bakugou harassing and kidnapping darling

TW: yandere, prank calling, breaking and entering, threats

STRANGER

The time was a little after midnight. And you, despite being heavy-eyed and blinking, were still lying stomach-down, sprawled out on the couch.

Some dumb show about some dumb dysfunctional family was playing low on the TV in front of you – not much to your interest, it appeared, or at least not enough to cop your full attention – but enough to act as somewhat pleasing white noise, you didn’t mind letting lull you to sleep.

You were beginning to drool on the pillow your head lay resting on and looked to be struggling between the indecision of getting up to brush your teeth and the more tempting pleasant thought of simply sleeping right there, without the chores of getting ready for bed.

Your arm was mindlessly dangling towards the ground where the remote had slipped to some time ago, along with your phone that suddenly – just when it looked like you were about to fully nod off – started to ring.

Startled, you flinched at the sheer chimes buzzing loud beneath you. Waking by it as though it were the sound of an alarm going off, only it visibly wasn’t yet morning from the looks of the dark outside.

You groaned then, both out of ire and relief – happy it was still nighttime as you were still tired, yet reluctant to have to speak to someone for much of the same reason. 

Hesitating for a small moment, thinking it was just a friend with some silly emergency – you were tempted to ignore it before guilt got in the way – where with a pinch between your brows and a big yawn, you swiped to answer it nonetheless.

Clicking speakerphone, you had your eyes still fully closed while croaking out a groggy and slightly bothered, “Hello?”

You expected to hear drunken cries and the muted thumps of base and beat and club chatter or something like it – all in all, at least a whiney girlish voice belonging to a friend – but none of the sorts was at the other end of the line.

“Hello.” It said, much awake compared to you in a voice dark and raspy – audibly altered by some type of scrambler, yet still clearly male.

Still, you didn’t really have the sensibility to think much of it just yet. 

“Who’s this?” You asked.

“Who’s this?” He asked back, making your brows further scrunch. 

“You’re the one calling?” You replied in askance, dragging your head from the pillow to peek down at the phone on the floor, viewing the caller ID – which gave you next to nothing aside from letting you know that your caller was unknown.

“You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine~” He offered then, and your suspicions of it being a prank call only solidified.

And although the corner of your mouth quirked upward by the sentiment, it was unfortunately just a bit late for you to be bothering with. “I’m a little too sleepy to humor pranks right now- I’m sorry. Try again later- bye~” You managed to muster through a yawn, hanging up and thinking that was the end of it.

Only, it didn’t take long for the phone to ring again.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” The same voice asked through the phone.

The thought of simply hanging up again crossed your mind, but at the same time, you didn’t really see the harm in talking with the man. After all, you were awake now anyway – and besides, given he was using a voice-scrambler, it wasn’t so unlikely that it was someone you knew.

And with that, you figured you’d humor them, if only for a little while before brushing your teeth. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”

“No~” It answered – still in that very altered voice that made it impossible to place.

“Well, my mother taught me better~” You joked with a tiny laugh, thinking the entire thing was kind of exciting now that you were sobering up – your mind slowly waking up and starting to spin. Not knowing exactly who was on the other end – whether it was a coworker or friend, or someone else entirely. You couldn't quite figure out who would bother to do such a thing in the dead of night – to you, of all people.

“Oh, come on~ aren’t you tired of being a goody-two-shoes?” He flirted back, and you giggled a little louder while picking the phone up from the floor.

“Fine then, Mr. Stranger~” You whispered slowly and coyly, rolling over to lay on your back instead before continuing. “What did you wanna talk to me about?” 

A dark chuckle came back through the phone, making your stomach purr in turn before he spoke again. “What are you wearing?”

You paused at that – cheeks heating with teeth sinking deep into your lip. “Hm…” Looking down at your drab pajama, you didn’t exactly feel inclined to be truthful. “Sexy lingerie~” You tried instead, trying to keep from laughing while putting on your best mock-sultry voice.

“I don’t like liars.” The man answered. “I know you’re wearing pajamas.”

You pouted. “Okay, fine- you caught me.” 

“Still sexy, though.” He added, making you giggle again.

“And you’re a little creepy, Mr. Stranger.” You stated with a tease, biting your lip with a smile while looking at the phone for his reply.

Only his answer wasn’t very nice. “You’re the one whoring around with an unknown man on the phone, slut.”

Your eyes widened before abruptly hanging up.

His voice had changed, and immediately the whole conversation didn’t feel very fun anymore. Suddenly mean-spirited, it soured into something that made you feel all in all rather stupid for even amusing in the first place.

But again… it only took a few seconds for the phone to ring a third time. 

“Don’t hang up on me.” The same voice demanded.

And while feeling bored of the game, you sighed with a huff and asked him nonetheless, “What do you want?”

“I told you already, I want to know your name~” He said, his playful tone of voice back again – only this time, you weren’t at all charmed by it anymore.

“Why do you want to know my name?” You bit out sourly. Unsure why you were still on the phone and even more unsure why you even bothered picking up yet again at all.

“Well… ‘cause…” He began slowly with a pause, and your brows only sunk lower with his antics, finding yourself properly pissed until he uttered the next line – only now in a deeply unsettling whisper. “I want to know who I’m looking at.”

You went cold, with a chill running sharply down your spine. 

Sitting up slowly, you held the phone tightly in your grip while looking at all the windows viewing the darkness outside.

“Oh~ you look cute when you’re scared~” He continued, and you jumped to your feet and stomped to the first window, drawing the curtains one after the other one until none remained.

“Quit calling.” You finished, hanging up for what you really wished would be the last time.

Seconds later, the phone rang again despite your wish. Only this time, you let it ring – deliberating whether you ought to call the police or simply ignore it until it stopped. 

You went to check if the outer door was locked before padding back to the couch, listening to the phone finish ringing before beginning anew.

You figured he’d stop after a while, but minutes passed without a break until you finally picked up – not out of fear, but anger.

“I told you not to hang up on me!” He yelled, and you sneered.

“Listen, asshole-”

“No, you listen, you stupid bitch-” He interrupted. “If you hang up on me again, I’ll wring your little neck ‘til your eyes pop-”

You gaped at his threats but weren’t about to let yourself be bullied either. “If you don’t stop calling, the next call will be to the police!”

“Tch-” He scoffed before laughter spilled through the speaker. Louder and louder until it stopped with the next utterance. “Stupid pigs won’t make it in time.”

There was a crash of glass somewhere in the house, and you flinched while withholding a scream. 

Fear hit you like a flash, robbing you of breath before your instinct took you towards the door. 

Rushing, wide-eyed and goosefleshed, you swallowed thickly while trying to think. With your phone gripped tight in one hand, you tried pushing in the numbers to the police – while at the same time struggling with the lock to the door, shaking the knob with no fruition until finally pushing it open.

You cast a glance over your shoulder, viewing the empty house that now suddenly seemed much darker than before – ears going deaf with the rush of blood in your head, pumping thick from the panicked beating of your heart. 

Taking a rushed springy step without yet facing forward, you had your mind set on running to the neighbors, only – instead of bursting out into the open street, you were sent back into the house – stumbling until you hit the floor with a wince. 

Your phone slipped from your hand – not only crashing to the ground as hard as you did but smashing into a broken mess as well – now utterly useless.

A dark-cloaked figure stood at the threshold, taking up the entire frame.

“Silly bitch.” He said nonchalantly, stepping inside – shoulders broad and boots heavy with his face covered by a white mask. Then he laughed, raising a large knife that made you scurry back. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to let strangers inside the house?”

tip-jar: Kofi

[forever-once-gone]

Day 3: Yoongi - You Meet Your Fated at a Coffee Shop <3

Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February! (lol)

Word count: 3.7k (can't keep them short for the life of me)

Content and Warnings: soulmate au, coffee shop au, gn!reader, sharing preferences, arguing, frustration, they're both a bit dense lol, but other than that nothing too terrible in this, just sweet honestly, almost throwing up, coffee snob!Yoongi, barista!Yoongi, mocha slander, terms of endearment: baby, dear, Y/n is ready to FIGHT

Author's Note: Hey! So like I know it is well past Feb, but tbh it was crazy of me to even think id have time to publish these things during midterms season. Even though I had reading week, it was just not going to happen. Even though I did manage to write some of the days, I obviously couldn't every day. And posting? Forget about it. Anyway, even if it's past Feb, would you want me to post the ones I did write? It won't be instantaneous, but I would like to share what I did write, and maybe even finish all the other days as I had already planned out what I wanted to write each day. Let me know if you're interested! Anyways, as always, enjoy! <3

Another mocha, just another mocha to fill up in the takeaway cup for another person who is trying to get through the February cold. Yoongi gets a lot of mocha requests before the winter holidays season. When so many are hyped up with Christmas cheer. Even people who do not celebrate Christmas tend to indulge in peppermint mochas when the snow hits the ground. And the trend trickled into the post holiday months every winter season. To the point when people ordered mochas even into early spring.

Yoongi, ever the coffee enthusiast, hated having to make so many mochas.

Frankly, he considered mochas just snobby chocolate milk with the smallest hint of caffeine. Like do mochas even deserve to be considered coffee-based beverages? He thought not. You could barely even taste the coffee in between the thick, tongue-coating taste of chocolate and the heaviness of way too much milk.

Everytime he had to make mochas, every single time, he’d be cursing in his head about how he would rather just be able to make his espressos, black coffees, and iced americanos. Iced americanos are the most he’d be willing to go when it comes to diffusing the taste of coffee.

Adding milk? Forget it.

Adding sugar? He’d rather just pour it down the drain than drink it.

Alas, when it comes to his job, he has to fulfill the customer’s wishes. No matter how much he hated the sugary, barely-even-coffee, more-like-milkshakes drinks, he would make the drink for them. A waste of good coffee in his books, but he needed the money that came from his overpriced caffeinated chocolate milk 

So, when it came to a coffee-novice coming into his coffee shop asking for a mocha, he would grit his teeth but make the drink nonetheless, the underline he requires to be able to pay his shop’s mortgage and keep all of his employees.

It was another one of these spring days when he’d unlocked the front doors of the café only to see someone new. Normally, only a few select people would come to his café so early in the morning, after all, most people started work at 9 or later. Only a few people would come at 5:30 when he opened. But today, there was someone new.

There was you, a person he’d never seen before standing behind his regulars. A cheery looking person, giving him a smile when he unlocked the door and opened it for the small group of people to trickle in.

He made his way behind the counter as he began his small routine with his regulars, smiling at each one of them as they gave him their orders, even though there really was no need as he had gotten each one of them memorized ages ago.

He took and prepared each order with practiced ease, until he got to the last person in line. The one who had spent the last ten minutes scanning the chalkboard menu with an analytical look.

You.

“Good morning,” you said to him with a kind smile.

“Good morning,” he replied. “What can I get started for you today?”

You wrung your hands, scanning the menu again, before looking back at him. “Can I get a large mocha?”

He scoffed. Seriously, chocolate this early in the morning? Typical from a cheery-looking person like yourself.

“What?” you asked, wondering if you’d broken some unspoken social cue. You’d seen the way he’d kindly spoken to the customers before you, making small talk, so what happened when it came to you?

“Nothing, nothing,” he waved you off, before pressing some buttons on his cash register’s screen. “That’ll be 5000 won.”

“No, no. That definitely was something. Did I say anything wrong?” You insisted, brows furrowed together in a mix of worry and a bit of indignation.

“No, not at all. It’ll be 5000 won.” He tried to force a smile, but your eyes were squinted together just as you did before when you were scanning the menu, but this time your object of interest was him.

“What? You just don’t like me or something?” You felt a bit uncomfortable, out of place in this cafe with a barista who seemed to hold a certain disdain for you from the moment you opened your mouth. But that didn’t mean you were going to back down from this entitled man. You eyed him up and down, letting him know the contempt was mutual.

He let out a small scoff, before seeming to recompose himself with customer service professionalism. “Of course not. I’m sorry if it seemed that way. Your total is 5000 won.”

You could see through his poorly reconstructed composure, but nonetheless gave him the requested money. You were already running late to your job interview, and you needed this job if you hoped to actually be able to rent a place in this city. You had already spent three weeks staying with your friend after moving here from your old city. You couldn’t stay with her forever, even if she was willing to keep you for forever if you needed it.

You stepped away from the register after he had given you your change and moved away to make your drink. You took the time to continue admiring the interior of the cafe as the barista flew around his counter space. You took in the worn furniture resembling something half between industrial and contemporary. The hanging lights and the various maps lining the walls of the place. Very hipster. Fitting for a coffee shop.

The call of: “One large mocha?” brought you back from your inspection. With a hum, you took your drink from him, feeling the drink warm your gloved hands.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, have a nice day.” And with that he was moving back to his dishes to clean up the dishes he’d used before the next customers wandered in.

You turned away from him, moving towards the door. Before you pushed open the door to brave into the cold, you flipped open the flap on the top of the to-go cup. You took a quick sip, ready for the delicious drink to coat your tongue, but instead your tastebuds were assaulted with a heinous amount of sugar. It tasted like you’d boiled a pool full of chocolate and dumped a truck full of sugar and then reduced the entire pool full over a roaring fire until only a cup of the concentrated mixture remained full of pure chocolate and sugar.

You immediately turned back on your heel. Pressing your tongue against the tip of your mouth, trying to rid it of the sweet assault. “You messed up,” you slammed the cup on the counter, seeing the barista’s shoulders jump at the loud thump.

“What’s the issue?” he asked, as he wiped off his hands on a hand towel before flipping it onto his shoulder. He leaned onto the counter with the palms of his hands, not even trying to hide his annoyance with you anymore considering the frown he sent your way.

“This is way too sweet. Like what, did you dump a whole bag of sugar into this thing?” You nudged the cup towards him. “If you didn’t like me, you could have just refused to take my order, you didn’t have to do all this!” You gestured to the cup.

“Please, I need you to calm down. I didn’t do anything to your drink. It’s just a regular mocha. Mochas are sweet, you should have known that before you ordered it for the first time.” He rolled his eyes slightly.

“First time? Oh, honey, no—I know what mochas are meant to taste like and this is not it. It’s practically the only thing I ever get!”

He scoffed yet again. Typical, he thought to himself. Never would've guessed. “Just take your drink and go, I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t believe me do you?” You said in disbelief. You never would dare fight with someone like this, but for some reason, this one guy was just getting on your nerves. Typically, even if your order had gotten mixed up you would just swallow your disappointment and try to enjoy the drink anyway. Even if it was something bitter and boring like a plain black coffee. But the way this man had been acting from the moment you ordered has been rude and completely ruined your confidence. Not what you needed at all before trying to get this job. And for some reason, it felt like all your senses and emotions had been turned up to 100, so controlling your anger was a lot harder.

“Drink it,” you told him, holding his eye contact. “Yeah, drink it. If you can drink even one gulp without making a face, I’ll admit I was wrong and leave.”

The barista tongued his cheek for a moment, contemplating what you said. “I don’t want to. I don’t like mochas, besides, I can’t drink a customer’s drink anyway.”

“I’m just gonna take your refusal as you admitting that you fucked with my drink.”

By this point the two people left in the shop were watching the two of you fighting at the counter. A middle aged man walked up to the counter, stepping in to try and defuse the situation. “Why don't you just take a sip of it, Yoongi? Just to prove them wrong?”

“I refuse,” the barista, Yoongi, said to the man. “It’s a matter of principle at this point. I’m not drinking it. I know my abilities, and I know that that mocha would be as good as mochas get. I’m not gonna take a sip of a nasty ass mocha just cause this person wants to throw a fuss at five in the morning.”

“So you admit you fucked with it?! You admitted it’s nasty!”

“No,” he rolled his eyes at you for the umpteenth time this morning. “I just hate mochas, they taste like shit. But anyone who likes those chocolatey messes will admit mine are as good as they get. I might not like them, but I still put all my effort into making sure they taste good.”

“Just fucking drink it then! I’m not joking, this tastes like shit. Maybe something is wrong with your milk steaming machine or something—this just isn’t right!”

The middle-aged man decided to try and put the fight to an end. “Why don’t I just give it a try, huh?”

“No!” But Yoongi and you said at the same time, before turning back to each other again.

“He refuses to admit it, and he has to be the one to try it!” You crossed your arms.

“And they’re the one who is making a big situation over nothing, you should never give in to people like them.” He glared at you. Now that his patrons were getting involved, he wanted to get you out as soon as possible.

“Just try it! I swear it’s unbelievable. Just give it one sip!” You threw up your arms in frustration. “Come on, I’m not even asking for a refund or anything, I just want you to admit that you took your anger out on me for no reason. That’s all, I don’t even want an apology!”

“I don’t need to apologize! I didn’t do anything wrong! That mocha is PERFECT! I’d bet my life on it.” Yoongi was fuming now, chest heaving with frustration and annoyance. He was this close to calling the cops on you and calling it a day.

“Oh shut up with the ‘perfect’ nonsense! It’s not perfect! Just try it! This whole thing would have been over ages ago if you just gave it a try!” You pulled the cap off of the cup. “If you’re afraid it’s poisoned, I’ll take a sip of it before you drink it. See look.” 

You took a swig of the drink, nearly choking on the sugary beverage as you tried to keep the concoction from coming right back up. You gagged for a second or two, before finally straightening back up, wiping your mouth with the back of your gloved hand.

The two men around you exchanged expressions, their anger turning more to disbelief. Either you were a great actor or that drink really, really sucked.

“There, see. I didn’t tamper with it. Now, please, please just try it. Please. Don’t make me look insane. Just try it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Fine. Fucking fine. I’ll try it. But if it tastes fine, you need to leave my shop and never come back, you hear me?”

“I swear. I won’t come back, don’t plan to anyway.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at that, before grabbing the lidless cup from the counter. He held it up, hesitated, and then said, “I really don’t like mochas,” with a scrunch of his nose. He took a breath and then took the smallest sip you’ve ever seen a human being take before slamming the cup down. His hand immediately came up to cover his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed.

You couldn’t bear to hide your smug look. How was he gonna hide how terrible the drink was now? He looked like he was going to throw up. Ha! That will show him!

But then he did the weirdest thing. He took another sip. A long sip this time. Other than his furrowed brows, he didn’t choke, gag, or even dry heave for a millisecond. Just watching him drink was making you nauseous.

“Oh my god!” you yelled, snatching the cup from his hands before he could take another sip, holding it up behind you, away from him. “You’re going to give yourself diabetes if you drink that whole thing!”

Immediately he tried to reach across the counter and get it back from you. “Hey! Give that back! This makes no sense!”

“Yoongi, calm down!” The man said, pushing the barista back off of the counter that he was practically leaning his whole body onto at this point.

“Why does it taste good?!” The distress that the barista was under put even you on pause. You watched the barista scramble around, rubbing at his head as if it was aching him. Was this the effect of all the sugar?

“Hey, man, you doing alright?” You placed the cup back down on the counter, holding a hand out to him to show you meant no harm.

He just shook his head, picking up a half empty mug from behind the counter that you had seen him periodically sipping from between the preparation of yours and the others’ drinks. He took a large gulp only to immediately run to the sink, spitting the drink right into the drain.

“Why does my coffee taste so heinous?! Why does it taste like fucking bitter gasoline? Why does the mocha taste so fucking good?!” He was still hunched over the sink, the only thing you could see of him was his back a bit of his lowered head. His arm reached to grab the hand towel on his shoulder to throw it to the side.

You had no answer for him. This was all so bizarre.

“This—” the middle aged man brought both your and Yoongi’s attention to him, as he brought the cup back to his lips for another sip. When had he taken your mocha from you? Was it when Yoongi was losing his mind? 

“This tastes…” He took another sip. His brows furrowed in concentration. 

“This tastes like a regular mocha.” He put the cup back down. “I think you guys need to calm down for a moment and think about what this means.”

“What do you mean?” you asked him.

“I think you know what I mean, dear.” The man had a kind-hearted look on his face as his eyes flitted between both you and Yoongi.

“OH MY GOD.” Yoongi grabbed the edge of the counter, seeming to understand the man’s insinuation. “There is no way.”

“What? What am I missing?” The man only shook his head as Yoongi raised his head to meet your gaze. He just pushed his half empty mug to you. Inside was black coffee.

“Try it. I need to see if it’s true.”

“Um, no. I don’t like black coffee. Yuck.” You nudged the mug right back to him only for him to stop the movement halfway. 

“That’s exactly why you have to try this,” Yoongi said as calmly as he could, though you could swear he looked almost like he could faint right then and there.

“Fine,” you took the mug from him. “Just cause you did drink the mocha.”

You swirled the dark liquid in the mug, debating whether it was worth it to drink the bitter liquid. But when you looked up to see that both the man and Yoongi were watching you like scientists inspecting their latest mutant rats for their observational notes, you just took a sip only to get them to stop staring at you.

Instantly your throat was soothed as the smooth taste of the perfectly roasted coffee made its way through your mouth. You’d never drunk anything so refreshing, so calming as it warmed you up from the inside out. Even though there was no sugar or cream, you surprisingly didn’t mind it as it allowed the rich flavour of the black coffee to shine through strongly. It tasted so good.

You didn’t put down the mug until you’d finished the whole thing.

The middle aged man had a small smile on his face, while Yoongi seemed to be still in his inspector mode.

“So,” the man began. “How was it?”

You thought about it for a second. “Good. Like really good. Like surprisingly good.”

The man clapped his hands. “Well there you have it. Congrats you two.”

You shook your head for a second, scrunching your face in annoyance. “What are you talking about?”

Yoongi came around the counter, finally coming to stand beside you without anything between you two. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Easy, Yoongi. Don’t want to scare them off now do you?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the man but then nodded his head in understanding. “You don’t like black coffee right? Too bitter or something?”

You nodded. “Yeah, too bitter. I need more sugar or else I just can’t get it down.”

“And I hate mochas. They’re too sweet and you can’t even tell there is coffee in it since it's so overpowered by the sugar, chocolate, and milk.”

“Okay… What does that have to do with me though?”

“But I just liked the mocha. Not just liked, I loved the mocha. And you loved the black coffee.”

“Yeah…” You waited for him to clarify further.

He waved his arm as if urging you to think further, but when you just cocked your head to the side in confusion, he dropped his arm back down to his side. “Seriously?” he asked, exasperated. “I hated my usual coffee and loved your mocha. And you hated your usual mocha and loved my coffee.”

You nodded your head, trying to understand what he was trying to get at. Until it just clicked, your eyes widening instantly, reaching to grab his elbows. “OH MY GOD! We’re soulmates! Oh my god! We switched preferences! We’re soulmates!” You threw your arms around him, pulling him as close to you as you could through your thick winter jacket.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed, his arms reciprocating your grasp.

“Oh my god! I knew I was meant to move here! I have to tell my roommate! But wait—” you pushed him out of your hold.

Yoongi let out a light groan, as he caught himself from stumbling.

You pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You hate mochas, you black coffee supremacist!”

“Seriously?” Yoongi asked you. “That’s your biggest concern now?”

“Well yeah! I mean, I don’t know if my preferences will change back, but if they do, I can’t stay with a soulmate that thinks he’s superior to me because of his coffee preferences!”

Yoongi let out a small laugh, his lips tugging into a smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I think I will never be able to hate mochas after today.”

Even with your finger still pointed at him, you felt your lips pull into a wide smile at the hidden meaning behind his words.

You both jumped at the clearing of a throat behind the two of you. The man had made his way to the front door of the coffee shop with his order in his hand. “Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to let you know that my wife, Maria, had been recording the entire thing in case you needed to call the police.” He nodded towards the other patron who had been at the shop when you and Yoongi had started fighting who was now standing holding the door open as she waited for her husband. “Let me know if you want the video of your first meeting, I’m sure your friends and family would love to see it,” he said between kind-hearted soft laughs, before leaving hand-in-hand with Maria.

“Maybe even our future grandkids,” you teased him happily, taking a step back towards him.

Yoongi just smiled in reply, showing off his perfect teeth to you.

You felt your heart swell.

He took another step towards you, grabbing a hold of your hands by your side. “I would like that.”

You heard the door chime as a customer walked into the coffee shop before their steps halted somewhere behind you.

“Uh, is this a bad time?” The customer asked from behind you.

“Give me a second,” Yoongi replied.

“Alright,” the person cleared their throat. “Just don’t want to be late for work.”

That seemed to jolt you out of your Yoongi admiring stupor. “Shit! I have an interview!” You tightened your hold on his hands before letting go.

By the time Yoongi realized what was going on, you were already halfway out the door.

“I’m going to be so late! I’ll be back later, okay, baby?” You had pushed the door open taking a step out before turning back to him. “I am allowed to come back right? Or am I still exiled from your shop?” You asked with a smile.

“Seriously?” He laughed, shaking his head as he made his way back behind the service counter. “Maybe you’ll just have to try your luck.”

“You’re impossible.” You laughed into your hand, waving your hand at him. “When I come back, if you don’t let me in, I’ll tell all your customers that I almost threw up after drinking your mocha.” You stuck out your tongue at him as he fake gasped, before finally actually leaving the shop.

Well, there's that.

So if you didn't get it, in this case, soulmates have different ways of finding out if they're meant to be in this universe. For Yoongi and Y/n, they met and ended up switching coffee preferences (or maybe even more preferences but the only thing they noticed so far is the coffee). Even though their reactions may seem extra, when you meet your soulmate all your emotions/feelings/everything is meant to be heightened. So they had each other's preferences, but n times stronger. So that's why they loved the other's preference like it was ambrosia, but their own preferences tasted like so bad to them. Y/n found the mocha wayyyy to sweet like Yoongi would usually, and Yoongi found the black coffee wayyyyy too bitter cause Y/n likes her coffee well sweetened and with a lot of stuff to mellow the coffee flavour.

But anyway, yes they're in love.

So yeah, do let me know if you want me to post the rest of these. It will be a slow process, but I would like to do so.

Take care!!

[ilynpilled]

re “most popular lannister in fandom” discussion lol i love cersei obv but im not particularly shocked at her not being as immensely popular as her brothers in book circles. not even just because of misogyny but the type of character that she is and her “likability”. nonetheless, there is a lot to say and discuss about her and her complexity anyway and id love to see that more over “girlboss delulu queen x100”. idrgaf about what others think but the only thing that kinda bugs me is when i see multiple ppl complain about tyrion specifically lacking the intrigue and discussion that sorrounds jaime sometimes (which is a gripe i entirely understand and resonate with, especially bc we can guess the types of things it could be rooted in; and there is a lot of material to discuss with him ofc) and then never discussing him or really mentioning him themselves either, especially centering him. like ye i write like 800 pages on jaime or whatever and not as much about the other two bc i find him the most compelling personally for whatever reason but lol thats just me. be the change u want to see, especially if u find him the most interesting personally

[enlitment]

Some Julius Caesar x The Danton Case Parallels to Celebrate the Ides of March, Frev Style 🔪🥳

Firstly, both Przybyszewska’s Danton Case and Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar are obviously (excellent!) tragedies that are set in a dying republic on the brink of collapse.

Here are some other interesting parallels I was able to trace:

1. Brutus and Robespierre:

Both of them are driven to execute an important figure even though they initially do not want to do it. They are both conflicted but feel like they have no other choice and have to commit the violent act for the good of the republic.

They are also arguably quite alike in terms of character: you have the „noble Brutus“ and then Robespierre, who is consistently referred to as „the Incorruptible“. Both are seen by others as selfless and committed to the good of the state (the people in the crowd very much emphasise this fact in both of the plays, I do have the receipts)

There is even the scene in which Brutus chastises Cassius for taking bribes, which plays into the idea of him as being (literally) “incorruptible” as well. And vice versa, traces of Brutus’ famed stoicism can then certainly be found in Maximilien.

2. Cassius and Saint-Just:

Both are characters who convince the protagonists (Brutus/Robespierre) to go along the violent act while not necessarily being portrayed as antagonists (at least Saint-Just definitely can't be seen as one in Przybyszewska’s play).

There are also parallels in the close relationship between Brutus and Cassius and Robespierre and Saint-Just, where they are very much portrayed as each other’s closest confidants. Of course, this idea can easily be pushed even further if one wishes to read between the lines. (There is no Camille Desmoulins in Shakespeare though)

3. Manipulating the Crowd:

I'm perhaps the most fascinated by how both Brutus and Mark Antony as well as Robespierre and Danton have the necessary rhetorical skills to manipulate the crowd of commoners (Robespierre being able to “play the crowd like an organ” very much came to my mind when I was reading Act 3 Scene 2 of the Shakespeare’s play).

Both Shakespeare and Przybyszewska portray “the court of public opinion” and how it can easily be manipulated - how opinions can be changed in the matter of minutes - in a way that is genuinely fascinating.

Specifically, the similarity between A3S2 in which people first listen to Brutus only to be immediately swayed by Mark Antony’s speech shortly after and the scene in the court in which Danton manipulates the crowd were in fact so similar in some respects that it was borderline uncanny.

The problem arises when looking for a mirror to Danton’s character in Shakespeare’s play.

4. The Case for Danton x Caesar:

It is Caesar who gets killed for being perceived as a danger to the republic

Both Caesar and Danton are portrayed as being very much beloved by the common people

Also, the idea of Danton being immortal is expressed at the end of Przybyszewka’s play, and while he does not come back literally as a ghost like Ceasar does, Robespierre nonetheless explains to Saint-Just that Danton’s spirit never truly dies.

5. The Case for Danton x Mark Antony:

If we see Danton and Robespierre as foils, Mark Antony makes more sense as a parallel to Danton (even though he does not die), since both Robespierre and Brutus as the classic ascetic/stoic archetype while Danton and Mark Antony’s are well-known for their appetite for drinking, women (or, you know, people, in the case of Mark Antony) , and the pleasures of life overall.

Both are also severely underestimated by their enemies at first, yet they prove to be quite cunning and are able to use their words skilfully to win over the public

Overall, reading both of the plays – especially the parts about manipulating the Roman public and the citizens of Paris just with the power of words – really makes me wonder if Przybyszewska read Shakespeare’s play and used it as a source of inspiration. It would make sense, especially given how the parallel between the French Republic and the Roman Republic was well-established long before her time (even, somewhat tragically, by the revolutionaries themselves).

I promise I think about Przybyszewska's and Shakespeare’s play and the Roman Republic along with the French Revolution a totally normal amount of time & that it definitely does not consume my every waking thought that should be very much going towards the exam preparation.

[mchlgayser]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 [isagi yoichi]

You check your phone to see the time and it's appears to be almost 20:25 soon. You had just finished your night shift working as a waitress at a local cafe. It's the usual Monday, the street is bustling with people. A few in suits, maybe they just got back from work, and a few in normal clothing with grocery bags in hands or either just their phones. You waited for the bus, a few people is with you but no one is standing since there's a bench. You stand up, look to your right and left for the bus to arrive when suddenly a man come stepping in beside you. He had a mask on, though "You're waiting for the bus?" You almost jump in surprise but nodded your head nonetheless.

The bus screech at the stop and people got in, paying for their tickets. You thought you could finally get yourself a seat but the bus is already too full for any vacant seats. You decided to stand at the very front though, deciding it'd be better if you can get in and get out fast. The same man was just behind you, giving you a shrug of acknowledgement when you both make an eye contact. You didn't say anything, simply looking out front.

A few minutes past and the bus stopped at your stop, pulling the automatic door open and you got out in a hurry, a few people following suit. The bus closes its door and drive away.

Isagi watch as you left, disappointed that he didn't get to ask for your numbers. Well he had lots of times but he's too scared, couldn't blame him you look too imperturbable. When the bus reaches his stop, he knock over an object on the floor and it's a wallet. He picked it, curious and open it curiously to see your id picture pop on the photo insert.

You just got out of the shower, drying your hair off with a towel when your phone notification sound play on your vanity desk. You look up, unlocking your phone to check your messages. It's from an unknown number; "Hey I found your wallet!" Your eyes widen, rushing to get your jacket and check the pockets and no, you did not find your wallet.

You hit him up back, nose scrunching together. You just clocked that you didn't know how to reply. What would a sane person reply to if they got sent a message like this? It's a bothersome to check the Google or the Safari, so you just reply back; "Cool."

The person sent in; "So when can I send this back to you?" Another message came in "I'm the guy at the bus stop, btw." You hit the keyboard, typing in "Tomorrow, at the same bus stop." He sent back an OK and you reacted with a thumb up emoji.

The next morning, you hurried your way out of your house, grabbing a pair of shoes to match and went straight to the bus stop where you met him last night. Oh yeah, you totally didn't use the bus because you didn't have your wallet. You check your phone, open his text but stopped - What should you say? Should you just "Yo, I'm at the bus stop-" You deleted the text, purse your lips and sent in; "Hello stranger."

Isagi got out of the bus, look around and find you right on the bench, sitting down with your head hung low. It looks like nothing interest you anymore. Not the warmth of the sun, or the cooling wind or the green trees and the aromatic smell of fresh brewed coffees "Hello stranger," You look up, eyes widen seeing him here, well it's not like you didn't expect him.

"Here," He handed you your wallet and you check everything inside making sure nothing is stolen. You thanked him and he nod to you. An awful, most unexpected awkward silence fell upon you two despite the loud chatting amongst the passers-by "Should I treat you with a coffee? You found my wallet and I want to thank you," Isagi wanted to reject, not because he didn't want to but because he feel like there's no need to.

"I insist," And how can he say no to that. You two walk alongside to a nearby coffee shop, order yourself two cup of coffees and pastries to eat "What's your name?" He is the first to ask when you both sat down "It's Y/n." He hums, nodding his head in acknowledgement "I'm Isagi!" Wow, he's very full of energy, unlike you, especially during morning and weekdays. Your orders arrived and you two eat whilst chatting. You told him a little bit about yourself and he told you a variety of what he likes and dislikes. You may not seem like it but you are very attentive. He like cats by the way and he hate vegetables.

"I have a cat at home, his name is Simba because he look like Simba from The Lion King!" He told, sipping on his drink. You manage to crack a small smile when he showed you his lockscreen picture. It's a picture of his cat, yawning. You also asked him how did he get your number and he said he found a piece of paper you folded in a half and there's your number inside that you wrote down "Contact me if I ever lost my wallet" You had totally forget about that! You wrote that like years ago.

The two of you had a wonderful time, chatting for hours and Isagi got to know about you. You didn't seem nonchalant as you look, in fact he need to scratch the fact that he said you may seem like you didn't have any interest in things. In fact, you like so many things! You like to read or writes sometimes, gaming, watching Netflix or YouTube, listening to music, drawing or painting or doing pottery, enjoying nature or just sleep and eat. You are such a bright person inside, he just got to be on the good side of you to see how much of a fun person you are.

Isagi and you parted ways when he need to be somewhere and you had to go to work. You two separate ways after bidding goodbyes.

That night, a notification popped from messages and you open it "Hello used-to-be stranger. Isagi said he'd like to ask you out this weekend."

Another message came in, "This is Simba, btw."

[wyrmswears]

"Generator"; 1569 words.

The Administrator has something to show Agent Walker.

...

Sure, he knew it wasn’t the first time he had been called to a one-on-one meeting with The Administrator, but it may as well have been. It wasn’t like he remembered any of their previous interactions; he was going in blind all the same.

When his fax machine first spat out the offending paper, he believed it had been sent to the wrong agent. But there was his name at the top, ‘Agent Walker’. There was the possibility that someone else shared his surname, but as far as he was aware he was the only agent without a first name.

The listed meeting room wasn’t her office, nor was it one of the Administration’s more conventional meeting rooms, complete with tables 30 people long but only one person wide and more fake potted plants than you could ever imagine. No, today he had been called down to the lowest floor of the Administration: the server room. The part of his brain that understood technology bristled at that; it would be much more effective to place the server room on a higher floor. Nonetheless, he wouldn’t say anything about that to The Administrator when he faced her - he would stick to his department, as all good employees did. The networks and communications department could handle that one.

The elevator down required two separate keycards: one was his standard agent ID, and the other digitally recognised him as a department manager. The former granted him permission to move between floors, yes, but only the latter allowed him access to the basement.

The ride down took 2 minutes and 43 seconds. He counted. No one else entered the elevator the entire journey.

When the elevator reached the basement and the doors slid open, The Administrator was standing on the other side of them. He hoped he would forget this meeting like the others, if just so he could become ignorant to the way he jumped at her sudden appearance.

“Agent Walker.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Administrator, ma’am.”

She smiled. This did nothing to soothe his racing heart. “Come, let’s talk.” She beckoned and he followed her into the dark room.

It was large, but so were most rooms in the Administration. The realm reassignment department was tiny relative to the office rooms that the majority of their employees were stationed in. This room was about half the size of block 8E sub-block 185A A3/11√5. He could see three of the walls, dark stretches of concrete, sealing them in. The fourth that should’ve sat opposite to the elevator was obscured by rows upon rows upon rows of computer servers. A blue glow emanated from them and he grimaced at the thought of the voltage it would take to create a light that strong.

As he struggled to keep pace, The Administrator barely spared him a glance. “This may seem beyond your department, but trust me, your role will become clear soon.” She forewarned. She would never have him leave his department, he knew. That was the first rule of the Administration: Stay in your place. “What do you know of Lord Ras of the Wyldness?”

Lord Ras. He had heard that name. Some of the employees that hailed from Imperium had mentioned it in conversations coated with nothing short of hatred. The ‘outlander’ who had gained a position of such power in their otherwise closed society. That sort of talk only ever continued for a couple days before their new job turned their interest towards paperwork and mild office drama.

“Isn’t he the one trying to awaken ancient evils without a permit?”

The Administrator shot him a look, slow and venomous. “He is”, she nodded, “but that’s not important to us right now.” She walked towards him. He averted his gaze to the floor with stiffened shoulders but found that she only continued past him, down the alley of servers. She didn’t need to beckon him this time, he knew what he was meant to do. He followed.

There was little light between the pillars of computers. They were only between two rows of the many, but what he could see was endless. The towers sparked a theory in his mind about why she was mentioning the rogue lord. “We use a lot of power.” He started, testing the waters. The Administrator stopped walking and turned to face him, her silence commanding him to finish his speculation. “Lord Ras allied with Imperium by promising them power; do we need to ally with him too? To have enough power?”

The Administrator smiled and shook her head. Count two for smiles, and a contradiction - she must have expected him to guess wrong. “You’re right that we do plan to ally with him, but it is not out of need for power. We have all the power we could need.” She turned again and continued to weave her way through the computerised nest which was now composed of more than just server towers. Thick cables ran both overhead and underfoot, LEDs glowed from no visible circuitry, and the drone of electric humming and cooling fans only ever got louder the further they went.

Finally, they breached the sea of servers.

Now that he could see the wall they had been trekking towards all this time, he realised that it wasn’t made out of concrete the same as the other three walls. No, this one was glass. Despite this, nothing was visible from the other side. There was no depth at all, only pure light glowing an almost-white with its brightness (though when Walker inspected the way it lit up its surroundings, he realised it to be tinted pale blue).

In front of the glass wall, the cables reached their largest size before slipping underneath panels in the floor. The servers did not get within 10 metres of the wall. Instead, they stood guard in their rows, watching the tiny humans approach the divine light.

The Administrator hummed, snapping Walker’s attention back to her. She gestured towards the glass. “This is our power source. You can look, if you would like.”

He didn’t know if that was a good idea. Just looking at the glass from this distance was already beginning to hurt his eyes. Nonetheless, unsure if it was because The Administrator had told him to or because he chose to, he stepped forwards.

As he approached, he could feel the electricity in the air. It combed through his hair and bounced around a pit in his chest, dangerously close to the one that ached whenever he thought about the family he might’ve once had, before he forgot everything. He didn’t realise he was shaking with a strange sense of excitement until he was close enough to touch the glass and found himself unable to hold his hand still. He almost did touch the glass, but held back just before his fingers made contact. He still couldn’t see anything on the other side. Pale blue swallowed his vision.

He looked over his shoulder to The Administrator. She raised an eyebrow and jerked her head towards the glass again. He turned back. A bright light stared back at him.

He didn’t scream. This was unusual - Walker knew he was cowardly and anxious and that in any other scenario he would’ve jumped or fallen back or swung a punch - but something was different this time.

If anything, he stood closer than he did originally, watching the sparking lights with complete fascination. His breath fogged the glass.

“What is it?” He asked after what could’ve been anything between a second and a day, even though he couldn’t hear what he was saying over the pounding of his own heart.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The Administrator was at his side now. When had she moved? “It’s lightning.”

Like realising one’s hunger upon taking a bite of food, the word sparked an ache in the back of his head. “Lightning…” He knew what that was, of course, as well as where it came from. They must have captured it live from a storm. He had never seen a storm before, but he had heard anecdotes of them from newly recruited employees and field agents alike. He was jealous. Did all lightning look like this? Freckles and curls?

She watched as he pressed a hand to the glass. The lightning responded in kind, pressing the palm of its hand opposite to his. “We could let it go of course, but it would run away. Far from here.”

Far from here… No. They couldn’t let it free. Now that he had seen it, felt it, he knew he couldn’t bear to part with it. They had to keep it contained. He told The Administrator such.

She nodded and smiled again. “I knew you’d understand.”

He dropped his gaze to study the hand that would’ve held his if it could.

It was almost the same pale blue that shone through the rest of the glass, but somehow brighter. The similarity in colours made it hard to tell the form of the figure apart from its glow, but blue and yellow markings fanned out across its form like the branches of a pine tree. Lichtenberg figures, his mind supplied.

He looked up at its face, admiring its curls and running a hand through his own. He wondered if he’d at all resemble the figure before him if he looked in a mirror.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

i think cross and killer's state of relationship depends a few factors: is this x-event cross stuck with xchara? or is this cross after the x-event? because i do think killer would feel a mix of interest and wariness with x-event cross, who can switch to xchara at times if not being constrained by nightmare. in underverse, killer does seem to despise xchara and by extension cross (not sure about the canon-icity of underverse to something new au though). imagine seeing sans with some chara behaviors elements - that would be killer's worst nightmare (which i headcanon is the purpose/goal of stage 4).

however, cross has an interesting soul, which killer would love to dissect. cross and xchara have a semi-antagonistic with each other, but they do share the same goal. cross' dislike of being in the same body of xchara and being pestered all the time might make him more... sympathetic(?) (i'm not sure if that's the correct word lol) to killer. their situations are similar on the surface, but not deep down. i do wonder when xchara momentarily takes over cross, what would killer's reaction be like, if he's anywhere near cross/xchara at the time?

~ crowshipping anon

I can definitely see that being the purpose/goal of Stage 4, given it was described as “chara wins” when describing the difference between killer and murder sans, although id definitely love to hear more about your headcanon/ interpretation of that.

And it probably depends on what exactly xchara is doing in that moment and why he’s in control of the body, cause if it has anything to do with trying to leave nightmare, killer might have to interfere—and probably brutally. Gleefully even. Im assuming that nightmare wouldnt want to lose a valuable tool, so killing xchara would probably be off the menu, but psychological torment isn’t.

And given his interest in Cross’ soul, finding out XChara can control the body might get both that experimental mind and sadistic revenge fantasies going. What if he can experiment on a soul, and torture a chara at the same time. it’s probably his equivalent of a dream come true lmao. perhaps he even attempts to manipulate cross into it by framing the experiments as finding a way to “free” cross of his “burden” and give him back his body and soul.

of course, if cross and xchara are too valuable for nightmare to lose, too valuable for killer to break or kill, most of that might just have to remain in his head—although im certain he could use his observation skills and whatever he’s learned from cross to fuck with xchara still.

bringing up xgaster and xfrisk, even if unknowingly but nonetheless intentionally. other than that, there’s his usual avoidance tactics—which im sure he’ll make use of heavily, although in ways that don’t make it obvious that’s what he’s doing.

im sure he’ll gleefully get rid of xchara if nightmare doesn’t have anymore use of him though.

[tisajest]

Reverse Robins AU but the adoption order stays the same

Bruce had been Batman for around 2 decades when he witnessed the Graysons fall. He takes in little 8-year-old Dick Grayson and they become Batman & Robin a couple of months later.

Jason still tried to steal the Batmobile’s tires, but this time Dick is there with Bruce. And Dick immediately goes: friend?! Because who’s cooler than an older boy who has the audacity to steal your dad’s crime-fighting tires? Bruce doesn’t immediately take him in but he does adopt him soon after nonetheless. A year later, Batman gains a new sidekick partner.

Tim still puts together the Bats’ IDs by recognizing Robin’s quadruple somersault. He keeps this info to himself but his father’s death breaks something in him and he becomes reckless and directionless. He’s saved by one of the Bats, maybe little 11 year old Robin, and he just blurts out his name. He tells him how he was at the Graysons’ last show, how he and his parents were such huge fans. Bruce shows up but it’s too late, Dick’s already attached to his new big brother.

This teenager is obviously a threat, he knows their secret identities, but Bruce can see a bit of himself in the lost young man in front of him. He’s around the same age he was when he made the choice that changed his life forever. And having two young boys in his life, two young heroes, he can’t help but want to help Tim. It doesn’t hurt that the kid’s obviously smart and in good shape. A year later, Batman gains another partner.

Damian was never sent to Bruce, he stayed with the League. Eventually, he and Talia killed Ra’s. He becomes Talia’s right-hand but he doesn’t want it. He’s so disinterested in his own life and Talia, for all her flaws, loves her son. She tells him to leave, to “find himself or whatever it is young people do” and so Damian does. He leaves Nanda Parbat at ~18 and travels.

Damian has many skills, but he feels he’s best at killing people, so it doesn’t take long for him to take up contracts. Traveling’s fun and all but he grew restless. He does this for years, he makes a name for himself outside of being an Al’Ghul. And he’s visited Gotham, of course he has, but he doesn’t long for Bruce’s approval. He isn’t a child, he isn’t good person, and he isn’t a Wayne. Bruce means nothing to him, not really he doesn’t think Bruce would ever want him.

So, he keeps an ear out for news regarding the Bats. He visits Gotham every time he learns of a new child but he never allows himself to be noticed. One day, he hears whispers of the Wayne children being in Ethiopia of all places and he can’t help but seek them out. He gets there in time to put the Joker down permanently and prevent any lasting damage to any of them. They’re all taken by this mysterious savior to varying degrees (Tim’s the most cautious), but Dick is especially enthusiastic.

They manage to distract Damian long time enough for Bruce to get there. The long await meeting occurs and Damian decides fuck it, might as well let his father know about him. Bruce has more than enough children to fuss over and he’s an adult with his own life completely separate from Bruce, no need to make a big deal out of it. It is a big deal and Bruce is in shock and infuriated and heartbroken about his very much adult son being kept from him all this time.

As much as Bruce begs, Damian doesn’t go back to Gotham with them. Regardless, he keeps up his occasional visits and stays out of sight. Surprisingly, or maybe not, Dick is the first to find him out. And Dick, amazing human bean that he is, grows on Damian with time and interactions. He’s impressed by this child his father took in and he can’t help but want to teach him a few moves. Bruce wasn’t as oblivious to these meetings as he made himself seem, but he knows Damian isn’t interested in Bruce being his father. He’s hoping he can bridge this gap between them with Dick.

It works.

[alittlefanatic]

hello! would it be alright to request something for a reader who really looks up to howdt as a sort of father figure?

idk man, i collect fictional parental figures like pokemon, welcome home happens to be my latest obsession, and YOU happen to be my favorite fan writer for said obsession, so i figured id ask- no pressure though! college is rough, and i want you to take care of yourself!

I'm going to cry qwq THANK YOU SO MUCH! That means the world to me that I'm your favorite! I never thought that I'd be someone's favorite writer awawawaw.

🐛 Howdy Father Figure Headcanons! 🐛

Child Version

🐛 Howdy LOVES to hold you and pick you up! You are just so tiny and small!

🐛 He would love to give you head pats and even ruffle your hair! (If you are ok with it of course)

🐛 Got a boo boo? He will be right there by your side like a frantic parent! "Are you hurt? I have cute little butterfly bandages! Let's get you cleaned up!"

🐛 He will hang all of your crayon drawings throughout his Bugdega! He wants to show off how creative and how proud he is of you!

🐛 If you knock over a stand at his Bugdega: "It's alright bug! Are you hurt? No? Ok good.. mistakes happen, don't be upset! What do we do when we make a mistake? We clean it up! See? It's better! Mistakes make us feel bad but they don't define us!"

Teenage Version

🐛 He would have you work in his store! "It helps build character and understand responsibility better!"

🐛 With that being said though, he also helps you define your boundaries!

🐛 "You don't want to work on Saturdays and Sundays? Do you need the day off to rest and work on things? That's ok! Thank you for telling me! Let's work things out if we need to~"

🐛 If you are wanting to sell anything, he will help you put up a little stand in his store! He's your biggest supporter and will personally send out your work to other neighbors to get them interested to buy!

🐛 This man has absolutely no idea how to drive a car (mainly because he cannot fit in many, nonetheless drive) but he will try and guide you nonetheless! That is until he gets one of the other neighbors to help. He would get you a little 'beetle' car purely for the name.

Adult Version

🐛 He would absolutely cry at the thought of you moving out but he would help you 'spread your wings' if you did want to move, or at least have a place of your own nearby!

🐛 "My little bug is all grown up! I can't believe how fast it flew by...I'm so proud of you! Know you can always come back to your ol' pops ok? I may be getting older but I still have all these arms to hug you!"

🐛 He would let you take over the Bugdega if you wanted it! He would feel like you would do a phenomenal job.

🐛 If you don't though, he will be your number one supporter and will send you baked goods in the morning for your work as a courtesy gift!

🐛 If you move away, he would send you letters every week updating you about what's going on in the neighborhood and how he misses you and loves you, and that he's proud of you every day!

🐛 He is a very sentimental man, keeping every letter you write to him, or anything you've ever given him. Don't you ever think it wasn't appreciated, because he has a little area in his room dedicated to things from you.

I felt so bad that I haven't been able to write, I got a few more personal things to do then I'm completely free so expect more soon I promise! I'm so happy to finally be able to write more content for this fandom soon it brings me joy Be sure to get some water and a snack neighbor! Howdy would like you to take care of yourself 🐛

[valrnyx]

Forever Discourse: Link to Original Thread + More

This post contains links to the original Twitter thread as well as other posts that provide evidence or context to the situation. (This post will continually update with anymore information that is found)

January 10th Update: Forever has been kicked from QSMP. He has made a third and final? video in response? to the situation. There are English subtitles. (I have not watched the video yet beyond the first minute)

https://x.com/forevitao/status/1745104252672856501?s=46

With this post, I'm gathering evidence both for myself and others. In my opinion it's best to gather as much evidence and context as you can and form your own opinion rather than just listening to what others say. Get as many sides as possible.

TW: Pe*ophilia (it truly varies between posts but most have their own tw’s)

To start, here is a post that I think sums up what’s happening (from what I can see and what I’ve read so far): https://www.tumblr.com/anachronistic-falsehood/738711971942334464/hi-sorry-i-dont-have-twitter-but-do-you-know-why

I think I managed to stumble my way into the original Twitter thread. For any interested, here’s the link… (it’s all in Portuguese obviously) (if this is not the original thread, let me know): https://x.com/diaboier/status/1743153136523472904?s=46

I also found another thread that seems to add more evidence or summarizes the thread? Yet again, I don’t speak Portuguese so I’m not entirely sure: https://x.com/morningcriw/status/1743164198928978127?s=46

Someone sent in a Google doc with a lot of Forever’s old tweets translated (this seems to be accurate. I started Google translating some of the screenshots from the original accusation post and they match up with the translations in the doc): https://docs.google.com/file/d/16RKc9968cA8Ybc8Hw7Dl2cevO3w52mZx/edit?usp=docslist_api&filetype=msword

I also just saw this pop up. It’s discord screenshots translating a tweet of the supposed victim. I say supposed as there’s no real evidence to show that it’s really the victim (All the twt screenshots have the usernames and pfp’s blacked out, for good reason): https://www.tumblr.com/magicalmanhattanproject/738731128507285504/id-discord-screenshot-the-first-messages-from

Here are two tumblr posts translating what Forever said in response: https://www.tumblr.com/imnotasweetie/738727736369102848/a-friend-of-mine-who-is-a-portuguese-speaker-did

https://www.tumblr.com/pamela-lntt/738713715054116864/translated-statement

I originally took these off as an anon said that it’s not great and that cultural context doesn’t apply to these kinds of things but after looking around a little more I think it is. Cultural difference is not an excuse, but nonetheless it’s an explanation. It still absolutely does not excuse his actions though. I have no way to verify if any of these are true though. Please keep that in mind: https://www.tumblr.com/thesmpisonfire/738775397927469056/that-one-brazilian-person-in-the-tag-with-the-very

https://www.tumblr.com/anachronistic-falsehood/738780432119808000/the-forever-situation-is-lacking-a-lot-of-context

https://www.tumblr.com/lonelyspacedragon/738779192959844352/the-one-and-olny-thing-i-will-say-about-this-as-a

https://www.tumblr.com/valrnyx/738784381189144576/cultural-differences-are-absolutely-not-an-excuse

As of January 6th, Forever has gone live to address the allegations again. Here is a a overview of what he said (I have no way to verify if what is written here is true): https://www.tumblr.com/dumblemonade1/738790758479527936/so-he-hadnt-seen-all-the-tweets-about-the

https://www.tumblr.com/imnotasweetie/738807755379474432/alright-fellas-here-is-the-full-translation-of

Please give Quackity and his team time to decide how they’re going to handle this. They’re human too. This post says it better than I can: https://www.tumblr.com/trashfangirlsworld/738796977181032448/i-dont-have-much-to-say-about-the-situation-with

https://www.tumblr.com/54625/738805511556939776/im-not-gonna-talk-about-the-whole-foreve

Apparently a host of CC’s have unfollowed Forever on Twitter: https://www.tumblr.com/magicalmanhattanproject/738802843036844032/more-developments-on-the-forever-situation

https://www.tumblr.com/weallpartyatybcpatricksfuneral/738805954396798976/hi-i-bring-you-context-some-people-on-twitter-dug

A post that’s close to my own thoughts about the after effects of what’s happening: https://www.tumblr.com/murky-tannin/738809119351390208/there-are-a-lot-of-bad-things-about-this-situation

If your are an English speaker, take a step back as well as a deep breath. Let’s not jump to any conclusions or huge actions. If you are able and willing, take your time and do your own research. Don’t believe the first thing that’s said. Misinformation spreads like wildfire. Especially when the discourse isn’t in your native language and are relying on others and Google translate.

Be mindful of your words and support victims. Words can have a huge impact on someone even though you can’t see it. This post says it better than I can: https://www.tumblr.com/cupsmp/738692732272394240/also-once-again-in-any-situation-please-support

Everyone please be careful with your mental health. Take a break from social media if needed, get some water, something to eat, and take a deep breath. Go outside or talk with your friends. We will make it through this.

[ratskcoreddie]

‘a lesson in romantics’ (rockstar!eddie x shy!fem!reader) part one, chapter one ★— ‘teenage dirtbag’ ♡

introduction: after being invited out by a few of your friends your nerves hit you hard, a night out at the movies would've been fine. instead you found yourself at the hideout. as the evening progresses you're glad the universe had other plans. the cute guitarist on stage was better than any movie you had ever seen, and did he just look at you? [WC: 13k] rockstar!eddie au.

tropes this chapter: stranger to friends to lovers. slow burn. soulmates. oblivious to love.

warnings & tags this chapter: 18+, rockstar!eddie, shy!rfem!reader, slight angst, self doubt, strong language, suggestive language, swearing, drinking, smoking, sexual tension, casual dominance, sub / dom dynamics, eddie is a sweetheart, nicknames, steve and eddie being bros, series.

parings: rockstar!eddie x shy!fem!reader.

the progression of the night so far made you on edge for the events to follow. you had been rushed into the small dimly lit bar by the ushers. herding the line outside like sheep was their job, but it made you quite nervous. they had taken your ticket, ripped off the edge, and checked your id with a haste you weren’t expecting. 

when you made it inside you could tell there weren't many people in the line to see the band that was on the marquee. these people were really just crowding to the bar on a tuesday night because it was the only bar in hawkins that wasn’t packed. you and your group among the few that came to see the act. finding a seat at the small bar, you sat down and turned to face the stage. it wasn’t really much of a stage, nonetheless it was high enough to raise the performers off the floor and keep the fans at bay. 

centering your eyes on the platform from your seat, your vision tried adjusting to the dark behind it. hoping to catch a glance at the people moving around in the back. it felt wrong to be watching them move like a unit before the show. the crew of the tiny venue must’ve worked hard together behind the scenes. their efforts were sure to be paid off when you saw the lights and heard the acoustics. 

the figures were working the equipment inside. you were a curious individual so your eyes lingered. just couldn’t help yourself. having a good view of all of the staging and the things out of public view felt secretive. it helped you grasp that where you sat was a great spot, the band was set to perform only a few feet from you. the stage was small and cramped so everyone would have a good view, but your view came with a seat, some backstage access, and drinks. 

it was still early in the night so you had beat most of the crowd to the comfortable stool. secretly grateful that you got to the hideout early to have the opportunity. majority of the people here for the band made it to the front of the stage anyways. you didn’t feel too bad for crowding the bar with your space.

your view also granted a favorable view of the sound box. someone you couldn’t make out with curly hair held a guitar, strumming mindlessly. after he finished playing a few chords he threw up his hands to another shadow and gave a thumbs up. the mysterious person sat the instrument down and faded back into the darkness. you averted your eyes back to watch the entrance doors, not allowing the interest of what the band was doing backstage spoil any part of the show coming up.

without something to observe you picked at your nails while you listened to the crowd funneling through the doors. you pulled the skin from your thumb to numb your busy brain. even when you tried relaxing and having a night by yourself, or with you and your friends it was hard. this was hard.

you were still slightly unsure on why you had told your friends you wanted to go out and do something tonight. it had been awhile for you and you were still undecided, but before you had an opportunity to bite your tongue. it just happened. one of your friends mentioned they had plans for the night already. when they extended an invite to you it was hard to say no. 

they each talked about how they had to check out this small band playing at a chummy bar. wanting to see them perform because they had somewhat of a small following. going on and on till you finally showed interest in their idea. it seemed like they could be promising entertainment for an indie metal band. a good soundtrack for a spontaneous night.

behind you, a few of your friends had already started with drinks but you decided to hold off for longer. not yet wanting to order something with the servers. you sat on the barstool still speculating that the people behind the curtain were part of the band you had come to see. you turned to your girlfriends that had invited you out. sadly, they were already chatting with the bartender. not paying any mind for you to sneak in a question about the performers tonight. ‘corroded coffin’ was what you had read on the marquee. that was really the only information you had to go off of. well, that and overhearing that they played a couple covers from metallica and iron maiden. you weren’t really into the genre, but you thought of it as an excuse to get outside of your box.

the issue was, being outside of the box made you uncomfortable. it had to be the atmosphere you were in… or your clothes. you were told the show had a dress code. your friends had basically demanded that you wore all black. something real tight and provocative. leather if you had it. you hesitantly followed the attire rules. digging through your closet for a few hours to put together a risky outfit. something dark, restricting, and chic. sure the look suited the activities of the evening but now you were regretting the choice. black jeans and an old tee-shirt would’ve been fine. 

while overthinking the past half hour the time seemed to fly. you gave into the activities previously postponed by your own anxieties and loosened up. you eventually shared drinks and jokes with your friends in the cozy space. a few kind strangers had tried approaching you throughout the evening but you had declined the drinks they wanted to buy you and passes they had made. one too many times had you already heard the phrases –”are you seeing anybody?” or worse, “so where did your boyfriend run off to?”.

it had been a long time since you had a partner, you’d been out of the game. therefore dulling your senses of being able to catch when someone was being friendly or actually flirting with you. not to mention the insecurities you held dear to your chest because of the times you had gotten hurt. nowadays it’s harder to fall for someone, hookups were out of the question. it was degrading to think the only thing people wanted with you was a quick round of intimacy and then a swift goodbye. absolutely soul numbing to go through that over and over. 

that fact didn’t matter though, because no one in the bar stood out to you.  you weren’t shy to offer to meet someone or accept a drink, it wasn’t like you to decline a free shot from a cute stranger. issue was there hadn’t been any cute strangers offering yet. 

you were twisting in your chair to face the bar after you had been approached again. deciding you would rather talk with the nice bartender than fake small talk. you ordered another drink with him and then introduced yourself when he served you something sweet you just pointed out on the menu. he told you his name was josh, his smile was bright and you greeted him with the same affection.

after having a conversation about how he really liked his job, he brought you another drink. “this ones on me”, he politely smiled. you threw your hands up, “no! no! i can’t accept this! all i did was have a nice talk with you!” you joked. he laughed at the quip, “you’d be surprised at the number of people that spare me some time.. seriously, it’s on me!” he pushed the new glass closer to you. you were reluctant but accepted after giving him a glare.

you twisted back around. “the show's about to start, by the way” he whispered to your back. that had caught your attention. when you looked back at him, the bartender pointed to the clock that hung on the liquor cabinet, “we’ve got about three minutes”. like clockwork the stage lights dimmed. “told you so”, he laughed. you waved him off, “i didn’t say that you were lying!“ he leaned over the bar and whispered as the stage rumbled, “flagged me down if you need something, kay?”

while your new friend darted down the aisle of his makeshift kitchen island you watched the guitarist step onto the stage. his dramatic curls were cascading down to just below his shoulders in a messy halo. his hair bounced a bit with his movements. this was definitely the man you saw in the shadows earlier. the silhouette was uncanny.

his brown, dark chocolate eyes glistened in the sparse lighting as he turned to the crowd. in his heavily inked arms was a black and red cracked electric guitar. the stage lights made it sparkle. you watched the musician still for a bit, it must’ve been his nerves. you turned to one of your girlfriends that had dragged you out of the house. she was talking with a cute boy with a nice brunette haircut and sharing drinks. 

‘’who’s that one again?’’ you whispered to her, trying not to bring attention that you weren’t sure who the band was. the mystery boy with the pretty hair overheard you. for some reason he answered you, rather than flirting with your friend, “that’s eddie munson. he’s the front man, not the singer though. the dynamic is kinda weird’’ he paused. ‘’can’t blame you for asking. the guy looks so good when he’s in his element, doesn’t he?’’ he smiled sweetly. 

your cheeks grew red, you weren’t sure how to answer the stranger so you just nodded. secretly thankful that he had answered your question with kindness. giggling at your coyness, he moved on and continued talking with your friend. you could admit, he was right. the man on stage looked like a real rockstar. a big tough man holding a scary demeanor. 

but something about him held that sweet boyish charm you loved so much. like his childlike attitude hadn’t vanished with the prospects of growing older. how the man next to you spoke of him seemed sincere too. seeing him made you increasingly excited for the performance now that he was on stage.

you watched the newly named eddie shake out his nerves. he sighed and puffed out his chest. the crowd was still talking over him, almost ignoring his strong presence. you wished he knew that he had your undivided attention. stuck in a trance as he played with his curls to make them more wild when the rest of the lights flashed on. the spotlights exposing the band in their dedicated place on stage. with the reveal the boy you had just spoke to and your friends started loudly cheering from the bar. two girls next to the tall brunette joined in on the cadences. their shouting snapped you out of your daze. 

cheering along with them, the lights then turned a bright orange. you watched as the crazed metalhead started shredding a rift in the lights. his fingers moved rapidly up and down the neck. pushing the cords perfectly with his strong fingers. the single rip he played got the crowd to pay attention to the band. the audience turned to find the culprit of the pointed sound, eddie was wearing a sadistic expression. 

grin toothy and demanding he stepped to the microphone, “we’re ‘corroded coffin’! thanks for coming out!” his tone was more confident than he seemed.

next the lead singer stepped to the mic. not stuttering once as he announced the name of their first song. his excitement seeping into his tone of voice at the introduction. it was an original. had to be, the name or the track you hadn’t recognized. you could tell each of the guys on stage were grateful for the opportunity to play live music. it made you anticipate the rest of their set and how their energy would translate while playing into the night. your eyes moved to watch eddie fidget with the spine of the guitar. the band rushed into the first few songs and fuck, they were good. 

like you had overheard, their discography was mostly covers with a sprinkle of original material but it was fun. you weren’t a huge fan of metal music, you really only indulged in rock but their sound made you want to dive into all of the classics. the sound engulfed the small bar and the shells of your ears. they’d ring slightly when the drummer would hit his snare a little harder than the last time. 

happy you came out tonight you cheered obnoxiously with your friends when another song ended. three songs into the set and you were feeling electric. an invisible rope pulling you into them. into eddies stage presence. you remembered how the bartender mentioned that this was a weekly thing. –“it wasn’t anything special”, he said “not yet anyways”. you recalled the talk from earlier. 

the hideout was just a local dive bar a few guys from around town hung out at, but he told you that because you specified that you were there for the music. apparently the band was bringing in customers more frequently. he mentioned how eddie had scored a live music gig by flirting with one of his coworkers… or two. even he could admit their act wasn’t half bad. it was polished and well worked for being their first real performance and he hadn’t got bored of it yet. even after seeing it six times now. 

the first part of the set passed. the band grew relentless. they were huffing after playing for sixty minutes straight. the group of three that was next to you started cheering even louder, encouraging the band to keep going. their drinks had loosened them up and caused them to be a little careless to those around them. the tall brunette seemed to cut himself off after two drinks. he was sipping on waters now. he must’ve been the designated driver and they must’ve been his friends, you had concluded. you remained too shy to ask. lingering on the thought, wishing you could start up a conversation with them during the show to confirm your suspension.

the song that had just been playing came to a swift end. the lights flashed a new color and the last half of the set started. the new lights illuminated eddie perfectly, it forced you to keep your eyes glued to him. he was in the music, noticing how he had really played with ease and confidence. his movements were provocative and his rifts sounded sultry. 

you held your third drink in your hand, you had been babysitting the liquor because you didn’t wanna turn around to order again. shamelessly, you couldn’t take your eyes off of eddie. even when you moved the straw to sip directly from the glass, you were looking over the lip to watch him as you drank. you thought you had caught him making eyes at you a couple of times and blushed at the idea. sparing another look at his brow bone to see if you could maybe catch him in the act of paying you a glance.

the bartender had walked back around to your side to check in with you when the band had started playing a slower song. you didn’t pay much attention to your new friend when he asked if he could top you off. turning to wave him away respectfully, you closed your tab. only a second passed before your eyes were back on the gutairst. dancing up and down the rockstar’s body until you met his eyes this time. 

you finally caught him. 

you were in eddie’s eyeline and he was watching you. watching you with a real glint of something you couldn’t make out in his gaze. your stomach jumped, without a beat passing, he winked at you. you nearly choked on your drink.

eddie’s heart jumped at the sight of you being bashful for him. he watched you hide your face with your drinking glass subtly. your eyes had widened over the lip before you were rubbing the liquid spilling from your lips with the pad of your thumb. the sudden attention he gave you must’ve made you a little brave because you held his eye contact. time seemed to slow as you both stared, but he was the first to break the tension. eddie couldn’t lose his focus this far into the set, and he was making you hot. he could tell. in turn, it was lighting his body on fire. 

throughout the rest of his performance he had been ecstatic that he made an attractive woman like you so flustered. pouring that extra confidence you gave him into his craft. shredding his guitar with a new passion to receive more of your attraction. fighting his own urges to bore his wandering stare back into yours. 

the stranger that was flirting with your friend from earlier must’ve been watching you fidget in your seat. you were oblivious of his presence while you made heart eyes at the band member, because suddenly he was leaning onto the bar to crook his neck at you. he started chatting with you in an awkward position. his neck was strained and his body was turned comically so he could get in even a few words with you. 

“hi again!!!” he was loud, with his sudden tone he stilled to gauge your reaction. then continued, “im steve by the way!” he yelled over the sound of the music. he threw his shoulder back in the direction of the band, “you like them huh!?’’ after his sentence, he was reaching out his hand around your friend's back to shake your delicate hand. “yeah, yes.” you were quieter and hesitated before meeting his hand. “they’re doing great aren’t they?” you answered, letting your excitement slip but not yelling like he was. “yeah, they sure are something!!”, he responded. 

you friend still stood between the both of you and you could tell the guy was getting frustrated with the loud music while trying to talk with you. he leaned over to your friend and whispered something in her ear, she nodded promptly before switching seats with him. he sighed as he situated himself in the new spot. 

you quickly sat down your drink on a napkin to give him your attention and told him your name to be courteous. you explained how you had been dragged out of the house by the group you were with, but you were glad that you ended up in the right place to see eddie’s band play. continuing the conversation when steve mentioned he didn’t recognize you from around town. hawkins was small, and steve was observant. 

steve leaned into your space so he could talk without the music intruding. “you’re from the next town over then?” steve questioned. “i mean of course you don’t have to go telling me your life story but i'm sure i would remember seeing a pretty girl like you in a shitty bar like this”. josh, the bartender you had made friends with, sent steve a glare. you giggled shyly, “be nice! i’ve already got to know the staff here, you can’t ruin my reputation”. steve could tell you were more reserved so he was careful with his words. you appreciated the gesture. “but, yeah, i’m from the city. the scene up there isn’t really my favorite though, i like coming to cozier places like this”, you answered. “well.. sometimes, i don’t really get out much”. 

steve had been silently watching you and eddie steal glances at each other when one of you weren’t paying attention. as eddie’s best friend (and wingman) he couldn’t just let this opportunity pass up. he thought you were gorgeous and he had noticed you sitting at the bar as soon as he walked in. you were sitting in his usual spot. most of the time, eddie let steve in through the backdoor so he would be early and have his spot. buying him a beer to thank him for helping with all of his gear. tonight he had been late, guess the universe had other plans.

after the earlier conversation seemed to slow, you turned your concentration back to eddie. you both listened to the next song kickstart. it was a little faster than the previous one. it made your blood rush but for steve he relaxed. he could tell the band was approaching their encore from having the set memorized. ‘corroded coffin’ would walk off stage dramatically and then come back with a closer. 

“im glad you like him so much’’, steve leaned closer to make sure you hear him over the noise. you couldn’t tell why he had said ‘him’ and not ‘the band’. it struck you as kind of awkward. “him?” you probed raising an eyebrow at steve. “yeah, eddie. you can’t really take your eyes off him, no?” a pink blush washed over you. you hadn’t noticed how obvious your stares had been. “is it that bad?” you uttered. steve laughed, “course not. eddie hasn’t really gotten attention from anyone in a while honestly”, he teased. you raised your eyebrow, not fully understanding what he was getting at. “well–, you would be stupid to think he’s not handsome… he is pretty”, you paused. “...i mean his look is pretty. like what he’s wearing? yeah. i like it.” you said diffidently. 

even at your new feeling of embarrassment steve revealed, you didn’t dare take your attention away from eddie. the performance was nearing an end and you didn’t wanna miss a second. his arms were flexing as he worked his instrument lovingly in his hands. the dark ink of his tattoos highlighting the tensions in his muscles. you were overly thankful that you could see the exposed limbs because of the cut up shirt he was sporting. he must have done it himself, the sleeves were choppy. each little detail sucked you further into a dizzy, tipsy, headspace. studying him like an old school book was easy. you hoped you could catch his glance again before they were set to get off stage. 

then the boy next to you was back to stealing the limelight. his presence was starting to be more of a distraction than an addition. ignoring him for a second longer was impossible because he started brushing your shoulder gently with his. letting out a sigh, and turning away from eddie was hard for you. steve slightly chuckled at your attitude.

unable to get pulled back into the motions of the music. you didn’t notice when the band played their last not of the final song before their encore. steve had stole the show.

it was quiet and dark now, but steve still conversed, “yeah, eddie had come up with the idea to form a band in middle school. ‘corroded coffin’ is the coolest band name i’ve ever heard a middle schooler come up with. gotta give it to him’’, steve joked. you were curiously annoyed as to how he knew so much about the guitarist, “oh, yeah?” you teased. you grinned at each other's banter. the conversation flowed nicely. you could both smell the liquor on each other's breath in the close proximity. 

over steve’s shoulder you could see your friends striking up a conversation with the two girls steve was with and the servers. you felt less guilty of indulging in a bit of small talk with steve because your group was occupied themselves. you hated missing the show, but it wasn’t like you to really indulge in conversations with strangers. this was something new and rewarding for your spontaneous night out. the drinks from earlier had you feeling liberated too. 

“seems that you know a lot about this guy..” you paused, steve waited to hear your every word. “so what are you then, steve? some kind of super fan? i wouldn't really pin you to be into this kind of music”. “what’s that supposed to mean?”, he lifted his brow at you. “maybe abba?’’ you giggled. steve threw his hands up in defense, ‘’ouch, you reading a book by his cover?’’ he paused. ‘’i love me some abba, though. not far off’’, he raised his glass to you. 

you noticed in the dark light that steve was dressed in a light blue wash jean with a tight fitting short sleeve polo. the hem tucked into the waistband of his jeans and over his belt. he had on a plain colored tee-shirt underneath that you could see poking through his collar. a nice jean jacket sat on his shoulders. an expensive watch on his wrist. his hair was soaked in product and he smelled like a cologne you could get at a department store. you’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t admit that he was charming and smooth with his words. he had to be popular with the girls around town. 

neither of you could see eddie watching the back of your heads from the side stage. he watched you chatting in the dark light. the lights from the bar slightly illuminating those standing around it. he was staring intently, but you both were ignorantly carrying on in your conversation. he saw you both laugh at a joke steve told. completely clueless to the glances eddie was dancing up and down your frame now that you were turned around and he was off stage. 

eddie felt an envy bubble in his chest. he wanted to be the one talking to you, telling you jokes, making you laugh, learning about your interests and dislikes. steve had been pulling your concentration away from him as soon as he started conversing with you. he was growing to be overzealous. 

the crowd chanted for one more song. he hesitated, suddenly nervous to go back out knowing you were anticipating him. earlier no matter how hard he had tried to focus on what was in front of him he would spot you over and over. between song transitions and rifts was the highest endeavor. eddie was glad the bar was near enough to the stage so he could observe you in his down time, but staying focused on the set was hard. soaking in your looks was easy.

when your back wasn’t turned to him he was careful with his glances, now he was greedy. eddie’s eyes drifted up and down your body immodestly. there was no harm if he looked when you weren’t paying attention. if you caught him, surely you would think he was a weirdo. wouldn’t you?

then eddie grabbed his guitar, walked onto the dark stage and started strumming a steady rhythm. he saw how steve was so close he could probably see each of your delicate features. eddie pulled his guitar tighter to his chest so he could play a heavy cadence. he couldn’t help himself when he hoped that you were impressed with him. feeling your eyes on him throughout the night made him more nervous than what he experienced backstage earlier. the lights flashed on. he felt your eyes on him again. 

part of him thought you were just judging him throughout the night, but when he had winked at you and got your reaction his worries had been diminished. eddie wasn’t one to care about what people thought of him but your attention was burning. and god, was he deprived of attention for so long. 

as soon as he saw you after the first song eddie wanted to put his moves on you. unsure if they would even work, but not stupid enough to let the chance pass him up. his brain was trying to rack ideas on how he would get off stage as fast as possible after the last song. just having a chance to talk to you was enough. hopefully steve would stall for him. or he could help him move his gear as fast as possible to his van, then he’d rush back inside and find you.

strumming his strings he kept his eyes on you and steve. curious of what you two were joking about or even had in common. he had faith that his best friend was putting a good word in with you. if he wasn’t they were surely going to be having a talk as soon as he got off stage. steve and eddie had been friends for long enough for him to know that you were a dream to him. 

you were wearing a normal pair of black denim jeans, noticing that they had rips in them like his favorite pair of black jeans too. they hugged your thighs in all the right places. you looked comfortable sitting at the bar in your outfit, he liked that, but it probably wasn’t true. eddie knew from experience how sweaty leather could get. steve’s frame next to you made you look small. they were in the middle of the band’s encore. just two more minutes and he could at least say hello. you had shiny hair. when the fluorescent stage lights illuminated you, the shine gave you a halo. 

eddie wasn’t one to pay attention to fashion, he just wore anything that looked cool and tough. he gathered that you were wearing black leather boots, they probably added a few inches to your height, he guessed. your jeans were cuffed and the shoe’s laces were tied in adorable loops. he continued admiring you from the stage as he worked his fingers to the rhythm. 

wearing a low cut tight black long sleeve made your neck and collarbones shine. a leather black corset wrapped around your middle. matching your boots. the strings of the back of the garment were tied in a cute bow. the entire outfit was calculated, moody, and elegant. much too special for just a normal night out. 

it was towards the end of november. the late fall season brought on a harsh winter. he thought your skimpy look was perfect for the evening but he couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be cold after you and your friends eventually left. you must’ve planned your wardrobe to match the aesthetic of the night's adventures instead of the practicality.

with the new information he conjured up in his head, eddie considered for a second that you had come to the hideout to see him and the guys play. why else would you have worn something so sinful to a place like this. to keep him from getting his hopes up he shook the thought out of his skull. throwing his head forwards and headbanging instead. with the motion he was quickly slipping on a chord that was always a little harder for him to play. bad timing. both you and steve tensed your shoulders at him. 

when he caught your nervous eyes he played his next chord progression perfectly. you were smiling wildly at him. he smiled back at you with a toothy grin. flicking his tongue out of his mouth before curling it to touch his cupid's bow in focus. you stared in awe, still impressed regardless of his previous slip up. steve watched the rest of the finale with you. it was somewhat funny that steve believed he had gathered your attention in a such a short amount of time, but lost it just as quickly to the cute guitar-player.

as the song came to an end you watched each of the band members march off stage. now through with the performance. the drummer raised off of his seat and threw a drumstick into the front row where only a handful of fans had been standing. cheering from your seat, you watched eddie pass a wave to steve. then eddie paid a greeting to the two girls that were next to steve earlier, just now noticing that they had made their way closer to the stage for the last song. 

steve jumped up and down hooping and hollering at eddie like he was an animal. eddie was dripping with sweat and his skin glistened in the spotlight. he laughed, throwing his head back while listening to steve be dramatic. when eddie looked back to his best friend he was childishly blowing steve a fake kiss before hastily walking backstage. steve snatched it out of the air and held it to his heart. 

you laughed at the boy's antics, he had been throwing his hands up crazily. it made him looked even taller. when eddie was absent from your point of view steve spoke up. ‘’im his best friend actually. i'm here for support, if you couldn’t tell already.” steve smiled. “you’re his…? so, you know him.’’ your eyes grew wide, saying your last sentence as a statement instead of a question. “mhm, sure do. he’s a pain in my ass’’, he joked while taking another sip of his drink. giving you a knowing look when you turned away to blush. 

you missed how steve scrutinized you with a suggestive gaze. you were too busy trying to get a hold of yourself. turning a bright red due to the self-consciousness of how you had been thirsting over eddie the entire night and spilling your confessions like a cold beverage to his best friend. sounds of the singer stepping to the microphone diverted your sudden panic. he announced that they were thankful for the crowd and people that came out tonight. his tone pouring over with happiness.

after his last few words, he too walked towards the back of the stage. following the previous movements of his bandmates. when the stage crew marched out to start taking gear apart you knew the show was really over. 

you caught a glimpse of eddie rushing somewhere off stage. moving heavy boxes of what you suspected to be equipment with a real vigor. you wondered where he had to run off to so quickly, but you had only seen him perform. you knew nothing about eddie except what steve had told you. the only additional information you had gathered was by yourself. eddie was handsome, a hell of a performer, and he was extremely good with his hands. you turned to josh, your favorite bartender in the world, and asked to open another tab just to order one more drink. 

he obliged though it was late into the night. you definitely needed the help from a fourth drink if you were gonna attempt talking to eddie. it was a desperate attempt considering you were unsure that eddie would even come out from backstage. the small crowd dissipated. you were tired but hoped that waiting just a second longer would grant the possibility of meeting the metalhead true. steve was still around somewhere. they probably waited around to say hi to each other after his shows. it wasn’t really jumping to conclusions. they were best friends after all. that was the kind of thing best friends did. 

the night was approaching close to midnight. it had been a long day for you. your week had just started, and you were feeling pretty intoxicated. the few drinks in your system giving you a nice buzz. out of the corner of your eye you watched steve wrap up the last swig of his drink and place the empty glass on a soiled napkin. he turned his back to you, gave your friend his number, and started to say his goodbyes. as he was walking away from the bar you heard someone whisper loudly from the darkness of the curtains.

“psst! harrington! hey man!’’ the voice said. steve tensed up, ‘’yah, im coming, im coming…’’, that must’ve been a recurring thing for steve if he was so familiar with the voice.

steve marched back behind the stage. when he arrived in the darkness you could see him lean down and grab a few cases of equipment and move them to the backdoor with the rest of the stage crew and eddie. they worked quickly, lifting the heavy boxes with an easy haste. they must’ve had somewhere to be. turning your back to them and the stage, you decided you would have just this last drink and then head home with your group. there was no point to waiting around, if you were that desperate for his attention you could come back next week.

you heard the two voices start to argue back and forth. you couldn’t tell what the context of their conversation was but it was clear they were getting into it about something. the two girls next to you that were with steve earlier giggled as if the little argument the three of you were eavesdropping on was normal for them too. they seemed like they were best friends, you had overheard steve call one of the girls robin. 

‘’just please, c’mon do this one thing for me”, the first voice whispered. the second voice grunted, ‘’i’ve already moved your shit into the alley man! you’re not gonna always have me around to just move stuff! couldn’t you hire someone for this?’’ that voice was more familiar, it was steve’s. the other voice laughed, “yeah, but i have you! why would i pay someone for this?!”

after the argument, a beat passed, the voices grew quieter. turning into hushed whispers. you closed out your tab and turned to your friends, letting them know that you would be taking a cab back home. you didn’t wanna burden one of them with the drive when they were still spending their night out. collecting your things, you talked to josh for the last time while he cleaned a few glasses at the counter. you made sure to mention that he would see you around. 

“i’ll come back sometime, i promise”, you said. “really? was the service just that good?” he joked. you smiled at him. “suuure was..” you trailed off. you laid your palms flat on the top of the bar and pushed yourself backwards. leaning on your heels to keep your balance while you were procrastinating your absence. not really wanting to leave just yet. 

you could at least catch steve, you thought, and say goodbye to him. the reality of that happening had already disappeared though, the girls he was with had already vanished. he was missing in action too. you sighed and spun around. 

suddenly you got really hot, really fast. your space was invaded by a large man. your hands laid flat on the chest of the culprit to catch yourself. the stranger jumped back, your simple touch scorching him. there he stood, stuttering on his words. face red and burning. 

eddie fucking munson. 

the boy you once saw on stage was shoved into you. steve was behind him giggling. you watched eddie fumble his speach. apologizing over and over. his right hand had grabbed the small of your back to keep you upright so you wouldn’t fall. letting you go, you both stared at each other awkwardly. eddie was hesitant, making sure you were balanced before he gently gripped your hip to shift his own touch. it lingered under your clothed skin. you looked to him shyly, watching him wipe his sweaty palms on his jean clad thighs.

“im- im so sorry. i.. i didn’t mean to step on you”, eddie mumbled. you quickly replied, “no, im sorry. i should’ve been paying attention, really i’m sorry”. your statement was catering to his sudden fearful attitude with lots of reassurance. eddie apologized again before throwing his head back and letting out a gruff laugh, “i’m better with my hands than my feet, i swear”, he teased. 

the two girls steve was with from earlier were in your bubble again. the slightly taller one almost spit out her drink. “steve! you totally shoved him into her, dingus!” she yelled while rubbing her chin free of her drink spilling down it. “im sorry! how was i supposed to know she was going to turn around!” steve cried. they bickered back and forth to each other while you watched. they seemed like an old married couple. both you and eddie observed them.

eddie spoke first, “that’s robin, i call her rob. her and steve constantly buck heads”. while he was discussing it steve and robin seemed to heat up in their fit. pointing at the other girl that was trying to break up the fight, he said, “that’s nancy.” he paused, laughing at how they argued with each other and nancy tried being their middle man. “aren’t they just the best?” eddie smiled while steve and robin grunted about an entirely new subject. nancy was begging them to cut it out. you could hear robin nagging him about how it’s rude to push people. “i wouldn’t trade them for the world”, eddie declared.

you turned your head to the man speaking with you. eyes widening at the appearance of seeing him so closely. he had yet to turn his body towards you but it didn’t matter, his side profile was gorgeous. once so confident on stage but now seemingly nervous to face you and talk. you listened to him take a deep breath. slow and calculated. though he couldn’t find it in himself to find the right words his body stayed close. almost as close as he had been when accidentally bumping you. 

remaining at your side he only turned to bend over the bar, not sit. the gesture was smooth. he was more relaxed when he settled down, like the presence of you being close made him feel less isolated.

waiting for you to continue the conversation, he watched your eyes study him out of the corner of his. this was the first time you had really seen him. your throat closed up. you wanted to be classy. say something flirty and sweet. just to let him know you were interested, but it slipped away you didn’t know how to converse. compared to your meek voice his tone was a deep timbre and soft. chills ran up your spine. goosebumps littered your arms. 

he was a teenage girl's wet dream. 

you shamelessly watched him.. your sights staring at his sharp brow bone first, working down to his boots, and back up. he had star power. could easily be placed in the background of the cover of rolling stone magazine. 

his hair was teased and wild in all the right ways. his expressions very telling while his eyes held secrets. his stupid sleeveless band shirt was almost too tight for his figure.

you would never admit it because of your coyness but he was divine. so easy on the eyes that you could look at him for hours, memorizing every layer of his physical appearance over and over, and over… and…  over.. an–

completely unaware you were spacing out, your eyes were stuck on the waistline of his low cut jeans. he stood up straight to face you. he was tall, and lanky. his waist was small and feminine, gentle with his sways as he moved. his chest was a polarizing opposite. holding his strong arms against it in a cross, he was guarding his ribs where his rough exterior rested but more importantly his heart. 

eddie cleared his throat when your eyes soaked in the bulge hugging jeans for a little longer than he was comfortable with. he put his hands on his hips, pulling back his jacket backwards so you could see his belt line with the motion. he stared dancing one of his fingers below his waistband. eddie huffed a choked breath. the slight movements of his large hands brought a little consciousness back to you. 

“not nice to stare”, he croaked in dominance. a devilish look dancing all over his face. “like something you see?” he said with not a hint of confidence. terrified he was pushing to harshly. your jaw opened, rushing to say anything of importance. eddie let out a deep chuckle, he was laughing at you. “no.. i wasn’t– i.. im sorry”, you admitted in shame. “i just really like the look.. that’s all”, you whispered. 

your words flattered him. his smirk was kind but his eyelids were heavy. tired from this performance definitely. his lashes were sheltering all of the confessions his irises held and hiding his blushing cheeks just as easy under his curls. with the development in conversation, you realized he was almost as nervous as you. you spoke next, 

“so those are your friends… and you’re eddie?” you questioned him while sitting back in your seat,  silently inviting him to sit with you.  already comfortably close to him, you wanted to build this bridge. you followed his lead and leaned closer into his space. making the distance between your breaths hollow. his eyes met yours, he was grateful you were so inviting, the closeness made his heart speed up. livewire. he had just been revived with a jolt of electricity. “yeah.. yea that’s me.. where are my manners?’’ he paused like he was questioning himself with what to say next. he cleared his throat, ‘im eddie”, he whispered. “it’s nice to meet you”.

you looked at him with curiosity, wondering why he had such a hard time answering the question as if he could’ve forgotten his name. he put his elbows on the bar and leaned down to smile at you. his jaw was sharp and pointed, but seemed gentle enough. he had pretty features. 

you studied him closely and unashamedly in the dark bar lighting. you watched eddie redden before he was looking away from you and to the bartender. he threw up a number two, asking for his regular, you supposed. josh passed him two beers. one with the cap popped and the other still sealed. it was cool that he had a usual at a bar, that was something you had only seen in the movies. 

fuck, even him asking for a beer was hot as shit. he was effortlessly good-looking when doing normal things. his face returned back to his gentle resting expression you saw on stage after he got his drinks. it was a welcomed substitution for his previously nervous look. you smiled sweetly at him and asked josh for an ice water to cool you down. he rolled his eyes at you playfully, you shrugged him off. ignoring the fact that you just told him you’d be leaving.

eddie was still upset steve took a rude tone with him backstage, bitching about how he didn’t want to always be the one moving his heavy gear. so the beers were a good way to take the edge off. 

when steve threw eddie into you, eddie thought steve had really fucked everything up for him. he was supposed to help him win you over not make a bad first impression. it wasn’t a good excuse for him just to tell you he was bad on his feet, he should’ve been more apologetic before. for some reason, looking at you now melted his anxieties away. this could work. he could work with this. 

the forceful greeting wasn’t really what eddie had in mind when he asked steve to wingman for him but somehow that bastard did a good job. he was truly indebted to his best friend. 

still eddie couldn’t help it when he found himself over analyzing your body language. worried that you were disheveled by the accident. he couldn't let that slip up stop him from working his charm. his pupils dilated in the soft light trying to read you. you were both leaned on your elbows now. you held your chin in your palms, eddie had his arms crossed and low on the counter. his angle allowed him to look slightly up at you. 

in the unspoken tension of new introductions. you let your guard down, the walls softening. he lifted his beer and silently asked to cheer. you obliged. 

after a few breaths passed, you told him your name. eddie smiled, “well geez. of course a cute thing like you has a darling name”. he repeated it back to you, the syllables rolling off his tongue smoothly. ‘’thank you, haha, i got it for my birthday.’’ you joked. eddie smiled stupidly. 

his laugh was a melody of sweet vibrations. the sound rumbling inside of his chest before it escaped his soft lips. you loved the ring it had, the reverberations almost as sweet as his performance had been. you were rushing to say something to make him produce the sound again. eddie took a swig of his beer, and you followed his movements.

taking a drink of your own. eddie watched your tongue play with the thin black straw of your water. he let himself stare at your provocative move, and you did the same when you saw his hand tense around his beer bottle. silently observing his large fingers that gripped the bottle tightly. the tendons in his wrist underneath a chain bracelet flexing hard. 

the digits were dressed in shiny, silver biker rings. some of them were more worn than others. in the moody lighting you thought you saw dry blood on one of them. you wondered, this guy hurting someone? he looked tough but there was absolutely no way. especially with how he was respecting your space at the tiny bar. 

eddie was close enough to give you goosebumps but he left a good foot between the two of you just in case you weren’t interested in him. god, how you hoped he’d be interested in you after tonight. 

“i take it that you liked the show?” eddie checked with you to make sure his suspicions were correct. “mhmm it was.. something.. you put on a great performance..” you confessed. he fully beamed at you, “you really think so?” he questioned, nervous that you weren't being fully honest. “yea.. it was fun, really. i can tell you liked being up there”, you smiled. 

then the bartender was walking over to the two of you to check in, eddie waved him off after sharing some short words. the extra seconds he was occupied granted you the time to get distracted by him all over again. when you smelled his body spray you were helpless. he smelled like old smokes and sweet vanilla. the black jacket he wasn’t wearing before held his musky scent. it was slightly earthy. the garment sat on his big shoulders over his old, tight, band tee. 

it was made from nice leather and must’ve been expensive. his hair was a mess, curls pointing out every which way and slightly sweaty from the stage lights. with his hips leaned into the bar and him bent at the waist like that you could tell he was taller than you. it seemed like there was cotton between your ears, when he spoke again. 

‘’so, what brings you to this small little bar in this beat down town?’’ his tone was genuine. you could tell he was excited to hear your answer. “my friends dragged me out tonight, i'm quite happy they did honestly”, you teased.

this was different from when you both had been watching eachother from the stage. eddie leaned closer, testing that you wouldn’t run away from him. you stayed put, not sacred of his forwardness. as he leaned in he caught wind of your perfume. it must’ve been much more expensive than anything he owned. he really liked the floral scent. inching closer he noticed you wore light makeup, but he couldn’t tell if the blush that danced on your cheeks was faux or his doing. he prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that he was to blame for the pink color on your cheekbones and he wasn’t just imagining this.

“is that so?” you watched as his eyes briefly glanced down with his words. the neckline of your low cut shirt was seriously taunting him. staring for a little to long. he gulped. 

catching his eyes wandering, you crossed your forearms over your chest in teasing defense. he couldn’t help himself. eddie was a hormonal male after all, no better than the next guy, and you were a damn vixen. he stiffened after you caught him, nervous that he was overstepping. standing up straighter eddie cleared his throat and went to speak again. 

“i uhm.. like your necklace.” he tried playing off his stares. you raised your brow at him then looked down. “pretty sure im not wearing any jewelry”, you both laughed at the sudden tension, cutting through it with your humor. eddie was relieved. ”uh. yeah.. so you liked it then?” forgetting that he had already asked you what you thought of his show. you smiled sweetly while his expression grew to be jittery again. he was looking for any sort of exit out of this situation now. 

“muson!” a voice yelled from the front of the bar. that was his cue. steve had a rope wrapped around eddie and was pulling him out of the situation he was currently in. steve was at the entrance of the bar, yelling to get his best friend's attention. “are you staying or are we headed to mine!?” you heard him shout. “give me a second man!” eddie’s voice boomed throughout the bar, his volume scared you. 

eddie threw a hand into the air, slightly dismissing his buddy. he was only trying to play the demand as nonchalant. hopefully you thought that attitude was cool. “alright man! meet me out front!” steve shouted at his wave. 

with that, you felt it was time for you to wrap up the night. you’re eyes softened as you caught eddie looking at you, he was waiting for you to say something to get the conversation going again. cursing his gross boy genes for making things awkward. 

then you saved him from the pull of steves demands and his self deprecating thoughts. you were offering him more small talk, not because you felt he deserved it, but because you wanted to know what the night had to offer. there were two choices you could make. you could leave the bar now and make it back home in a reasonable time or take this path of learning more about this stranger. the latter seemed more promising.

“so, eddie munson.. are you here often?” you offered to take the lead. “i am”, he answered. “i play here almost every week. trying to make it big i guess..?” eddie trailed off. “i finally have the time to really work on it”. he watched your eyes sparkle at his confession, “that’s really cool. i admire your work ethic... i don’t think i've finished a project in years”. you admitted, sharing a piece of your life with him too. he grinned softly, “that’s okay, this stuff can be tough. i understand..“ 

eddie slowed his speech and raised off of the bar. his fingers drummed a rhythm on the counter. distracting himself from the lingering goodbye. hard metal rings tapping on the surface. 

“can i expect to see you around here more often, maybe next week?” he choked out those words, those conversation ending words. he held his head low wishing he hadn’t, but eddie didn't know where to go from here.  “we could continue this conversation then? i don’t really wanna keep you late if you were thinking of splitting, you know?” 

you smiled, “i.. yeah..” you paused, begging yourself to say something other than that you were just leaving. “i was thinking i’d head out… unless.. a-re you staying..?” you trailed, unsure of your own words. you tried to recover with a subtle flirt,  “you’ll see me around, sure. if cute guys like you and your friend are frequent customers i wouldn’t mind”, you tried teasing but his face fell flat, only acknowledging that you said he would see you around and not that you called him cute.

eddie nodded at you, “you’re kidding, you would really come back next week?” he quizzed you. your eyes grew wide, “you’re actually here every week?” you asked to make more small talk. holding onto every word like a rope you just couldn’t let slip out of your hands. “sure am. we kinda have to get started somewhere”, he answered.

giving it his best shot, he tried being smooth with you. slowly coaxing you, trying desperately to win you over and convince you to come back next week. “you know, if you come next week i could.. maybe get you in early with my friends? if that’s something you’d like. no pressure of course.” 

your face lit up. small talk was good. this was doable. things were going better than expected, “really? you’d want to give me a ticket?” you smiled, he smiled back just as wide. “ooh don’t get too excited, sweetheart. it’s not really giving you a ticket, it's more like… letting you in through the back”, eddie joked. 

you were flushed a bright pink color. the nickname he had used ringing brightly in your ears. sweetheart. sweetheart. sweetheart. eddie leaned into you, you danced with his rhythm, you leaned into eddie. dizzy in each other's presence. the rope you were holding you didn't slip from your hands. instead it was caught and pulled tight with tension. the other end being held in the hands of the man before you. 

you stared at each other silently, grinning stupidly. then he whispered, “ahh fuck—“, a beat passed. “harrington can wait can’t he?” you nodded slightly at his words, agreeing timidly. the smile he flashed you after your little gesture making your tummy turn. 

you shivered, his secretive tone he held with you leaving chills. the promise of a developing friendship between the small space you shared. cozy and confined. nervous and new. “would you let me buy you a drink or something?” he pleaded. he looked at you with a soft expression. letting you know you were free to go at any moment. 

you smiled, already well past your limit. then a sigh brushed your lips just as easily as his begs for you to stay had. “okay, eddie, but just one”, trying to say his name as lovingly as he said your new title. calling you by a nickname was brave for him, it had just slipped out but you didn’t seem to hate it. your acceptance of him confidently renaming you coming out of your playful tone. 

eddie blushed. he loved how you had danced his name off your tongue in a sweet cadence. he stuttered, “yea— yeah of course..just one”. he put up his hand to flag down the bartender. smilinging wildly while putting in your order. sounding a lot less classy than when you had asked for one yourself. “could you get me one of those little girly drinks, whatever she was sipping on while i was rocking on stage would be fine”, he smirked. 

the server you had come to know, laughed at his carelessness. rolling his eyes at you,  josh turned to get started on drinks. you two started on a budding journey. 

★

after sharing a night of more whispered words and conversations. the beverages were running low. six more beers for him, the drink he promised you, and another ice water. you were five drinks deep and you could really feel the affect it was starting to have on you. the glasses were all dry, or half full, you would say. eddie would argue that they were half empty, in fact it’s what you both had been discussing for ten minutes now,

“sweetheart, it’s half empty! i drank half of it so now it’s half empty, the other half is gone so it’s empty, half empty”, eddie joked with you. repeating himself because of the beer in his system. you argued back, “but you don’t count the air in the glass or the missing liquid, it doesn’t matter where it went.. it remains half full!” both of you giggled. choosing to ignore the actual intelligence of the proverbial phrase. 

the question was normally used to determine another individuals worldview, but you didn’t have to hear his answer to know he was a pessimist. over the conversation you’d come to know he was delt a bad hand in life. it was unfortunate the circumstances he lived under, and after he had skimmed the surface of what his life was like, you were surprised he was so kind and giving towards you and his friends. 

the server walked over to the bar and moved your half full, half empty, half whatever glasses into the sink. you two were his last customers. josh told both of you to wrap it up and head out, telling you that you needed to be safe if you were still thinking about taking a cab back home. the hideout wasn’t really in the best part of hawkins, so he worried about you and many of his other female customers. 

“thank you, josh. you’ve been too kind to me.” both you and eddie stood up from the stools at the bar, eddie asked the server to keep his tab open till next week, but he left a ten dollar bill on the counter as a tip. you waved bye to the bartender as eddie walked you out of the small space. “of course, come back and see us now, seriously!” he yelled his last statement as you and eddie neared the back exit. eddie’s hand already pushing against the door to push it open. 

eddie allowed you to step out into the alleyway behind the building first. the cold winter air biting your skin and leaving bumps. you shivered while noticing the environment was secluded and safe. a chain link fence surrounded a parking lot that housed a few cars. the gate they had come through earlier now closed. it was illuminated by a single street lamp where only four cars parked. there was a black bmw that definitely belonged to a silver spooned somebody, two older used cars, and eddie’s van. 

he had described it to you vaguely over drinks, and seeing it really put it into perspective. the vehicle was an old thing, been his since highschool. eddie treasured it and all the memories he had made since owning it. the space in the back was a huge edition too. he could load all of his gear easily. you later found out that he hopped off the stage in a rush because he had to load his gear with steve quickly. 

they were only in a hurry because two weeks before when they let the show go on for to long, the bar charged them for being past curfew. eddie wouldn’t admit it either but he had also rushed for you. being past their call time meant they had to take money out of their own pocket to pay the staff overtime. it was just two workers but eddie hated keeping them at their jobs late in the night and into the am. 

eddie smiled at you as he walked around your figure. you were holding your arms against yourself to keep warm. the heavy door had slammed shut behind him. he pointed at the door, “his name is josh? how come i never figured that out”, he mumbled. you snickered, the bartender was right, people didn’t pay him attention like you had. it was a real bummer, he was a nice guy. 

eddie leaned into your side, bumping your ditzy body with his own tipsy frame. “what? what's so funny?” his body was like a furnace, instantly heating you up. he faced you, walking closer and closer. his breath fanning hot waves onto your cheek. you playfully pushed you open palm on his shoulder, he should’ve swayed off to your side and laughed about the gesture like old friends do, 

but eddie wasn’t an old friend. he pushed forward.

his warmth engulfed you and relieved you of the cold. having you in his presence for so long, was euphoric. his hot body was like a space heater and you were jealous of his leather jacket that was keeping him warm. his intrusion was uninvited but you were thankful for it. he was so close his curls tickled your cheeks. you looked up at him with a pink nose and he noticed your red ears. 

as he moved into you, your gentle palm slipped down to his chest. he grabbed your hand, not hesitating for a second, the bubbly beer from earlier making him brave. he didn’t want the feeling to go away. his strong fingers wrapped around your small ones. he walked forwards, you took a step backwards. it happened again, then again, until eddie was suddenly lifting his arm and pressing his palm on the back of your head. 

he realized that he was moving to cage you between himself and the wall of the venue. he didn’t want you to bump your head. when his knuckles felt the cold cement of the wall, he moved his hand, granting you the ability to stand flush against the wall for him. he placed the now free hand next to the shell of your ear. his other hand that was holding your sweet fingers to his chest squeezed your fingers. you squeezed back. the rope that you had both been pulling tightly back and forth the entire night, snapped. 

eddie stared into your eyes deeply, wondering if you could feel his heart speeding up under your palm. his eyes were hooded, but open enough to trace your features with his dark gaze. his intimacy of the distance caused his tone to be quieter than you’ve heard the entire night.

“you should come back next week. or just come back and see me soon..”, he wasn’t questioning, he was demanding. his expression was flat like he was depending on you to agree with him. you turned your head to the side to avoid his pointed glare. when you faced away from him he notice your cheeks were a deep maroon. it could’ve just been the cold, he chopped it up to. he withdrew his body from you slightly. the new space allowing you face him without being overwhelmed with his closeness, “..i.. i will, i’ll come s’you next week, promise”, you whispered back.

eddie loved that hushed tone falling from your mouth. he couldn’t help but look down at your lips in a quick glance. you didn’t catch it because of how the liquor weighed your eyelids down. he let go of your hand and pulled away, smiling stupidly while taking a few steps back. he ripped his jacket from his frame and put it on your shoulders.

you were so hot. the leather was preheated from his own body, warmed your own. but the affection of the position he had just had you in warmed the inside of your chest. now the look of him in his tight, sleeveless tee shirt was melting you. his muscles would tense when the cold air brushed his exposed skin. you reached out to brush his arms.

“eddie, you’re gonna get a cold”, he just giggled at you. “oh and you’re not? i’ll be fine”, he assured. he grabbed the cuff of his sleeve that protected your wrist and pulled you forward. he reached into his pocket of the jacket you were wearing. he was a little to giddy that he could just grab the material and drag you anyway that he wanted. 

you watched him reaching deep to grab something. you felt his hand brush your hip between the material. when the item he had tried to retrieve wasn’t where he left it, his eyes got wide, “i.. i forgot something”. eddie sighed, “give me just a second, sweetheart. wait right here, kay?” eddie rushed his words out, before you could even answer him, or turn a bright pink because of the cute nickname, he was running back into the bar. “m’kay”, you said to no one.

with eddie absent you stood still, playing with your hands nervously, trying to comprehend how eddie had been your impromptu date for tonight. did he see you as his date too? before you could get caught up in that baggage you needed to unpack later, steve suddenly turned the corner of the building walking by the chain fence. when he spotted you he perked up. he opened the gate to the back.

“hey! you’ve seen ed’s anywhere?” he was supposed to come to mines earlier and he still hasn’t come out to the front”, steve asked you, but he didn’t really need a confirmation. you were wearing eddie’s jacket, he just wanted to know where he ran off to. “yeah.. yeah, he went inside for a second.. said he forgot s’mthin”, you replied pointing at the door with your thumb. 

is that why eddie had taken you out to the back door instead of the front? did he want to be alone with you before saying goodbye? or was it just the convenience of his van being parked in the back? he probably was feeling tired himself and wanted to leave, but he was also drunk, he couldn’t drive himself home like that. 

steve’s extrovertedness didn’t allow you to ponder on the thought. he continued talking with you while you shoved it all down, just more baggage to unpack later. if you even remembered. you looked at him with sleepy eyes while he talked, he grinned at you and said,  

“how many drinks did eddie buy you??” steve laughed. you mumbled, “that guy is too damn charming..”, ignoring his question but answering as to why you let him talk you into more. “i have that problem too. munson makes it hard to say no”, he reasoned. 

speaking his name seemed to summon him. on cue eddie was slowly opening the back door again. he must’ve been trying to be extra careful not to scare you. he slowly stepped back out into the gravel covered parking lot. his eyes met steve’s first, but then he looked to you. eddie seemed to be sending you an apologetic look, silently apologizing he left you alone in the night in the alley behind the bar. 

“i went to grab my smokes outta my pocket.. and realized i forgot my zippo on the counter. m’sorry.” eddie express regret. you reassured him, “that’s fine, steve showed up right after you went inside”. “course he did”, eddie snarked. 

steve chuckled at the two of you talking like he wasn’t there. he watched eddie move closer into your side, he was clearly interrupting something. steve reached into his front pocket of his jeans. when he retrieved his hands he held a pair of keys. for a second he spun them on his finger before walking towards the only expensive car in the little lot. a shinny bmw.

of course it was his. 

“you’re still coming to mine, ed’s? nance and robin already headed over, they were sick of waiting on you out front, it’s to cold”, steve said. eddie grumbled, “yeah, yeah. you’re driving though. i’ve had one too many tonight, we can leave my van here”, eddie replied. steve walked towards his car, “okay well, i’m heating up my car, you figure out what you two are doing and let me know”. 

with that last sentence steve popped opened the door and leaned down to get into the drivers side. you listened to the engine roar to life and the steadily rumble. exhaust pulling out of his car while warmth surely filled the interior. both you and eddie were alone again. 

he shifted against you awkwardly crowding you space to stay warm himself. he was walking back in front of you like before, so he could still talk with you face to face. this time there was an obvious distance between you. he pulled out a pack of camels from his jeans pocket and opened the cardboard package. you noticed there were only seven tobacco sticks left.

observing him was a pleasure. you watched as he pulled one out and placed it between his plush lips. his big hands played with his small lighter he had retrieved and flipped the cap. he played with the flint trying to spark it. he felt your eyes on him, and when he tested his suspensions by looking up at you, he was right. you were staring. 

“you mind if i smoke?” he asked between his pinched lips. you shook your head no. “ahh sweet, was worried for a second”. you walked closer. eddie used the reachable distance to his advantage, grabbing his jacket pocket and pulling you forward. he was placing his carton in the pouch. the proximity you both were now in

familiar to earlier when you had first walked out of the bar.  

his hand that held his lighter played with his jacket cuff. his hand was warm and adventurous, dancing his own fingers on yours. his lighter was in the way of you both fully connecting, so eddie allowed you to grab the lighter from his hand. “here, let me”, you said. twisting the zippo out of his grip. eddie put both of his clenched fist at his side. he didn’t really let people just touch his lucky lighter, not even steve, but for you he obeyed. he had panicked a little bit when he noticed it wasn’t on his person.

he watched you spark the flame and lift it to his lips. he leaned down to your cupped hands that guarded the flame from his huffy breathes. he looked at you as he sucked in the tip of the fire through his cigarette. your eyes and cheeks were glowing with the soft orange light. he noticed how your stare was on his occupied mouth in focus. making sure you were doing a good job for him.

when eddie’s smoke had a bright red cherry on the end you killed the flame with the lid. it snapped shut, but even the sharp sound couldn’t pull you away from the moment. you both were watching the other. the man in front of you raised one of his hands to pinch the cig, he grabbed the end and inhaled deeply. still holding his lighter you played with the cap to calm your nerves. puffing out a big cloud of smoke, eddie laid it over the two of you in a heavy exhale. when the smoke was slightly cleared you had moved closer. you reached into eddie’s jean pocket placing the lighter there.

the sudden closeness of your hands near his belt line made him jump, but he didn’t dare let his body reveal how nervous you made him. “wh–what are you.. doing?” he asked. you noticed during your sudden invasion that his hand that held his lit cigarette pulled away from you. he was careful not to flick any ash on you. his abdomend tensed up. trying so desperately not to think about your hands lingering in other places. he was too intoxicated to slip up now, he wanted to be a gentleman. show you he wasn’t just interested in you physically, but emotionally. he wanted to be your friend. your touch snapped him out of his daze as you gently patted his pocket with a tender palm. “there”. 

when you looked at him your pupils were dilated, as was his. you tried moving back slightly but eddie held onto his jacket, making sure you couldn’t leave him. he needed you close, not only for warmth but because he liked you like this. you were so pretty while being dazed and sleepy. he needed to protect you, keep you safe so no one could harm you while you felt so euphoric. he couldn’t let you move an inch away. it was selfish of him to want this side of you reserved for only him. he had just met you tonight. 

eddie felt crazy.  

your delicate words danced on your tongue as you spoke in the silence. you whispered while your fingers retrieved his pack of smokes out of the coats pocket. “you know you.. could just..”, eddie watched you open his pack. you once again reached into his jeans front pocket. this time you moved slower, and more purposefully. eddie hissed. “your hands are so cold when you do that”, he whispered back. blaming the temperature on the twitch you felt in his pants. 

once again, the lighter was in your hand. you placed it inside the box, sheltering it from the outside world and giving it a new and convenient home. “so that way, you always have it”. you cheerfully said. eddie’s gaze widened at you, as if you were the smartest person he had ever met, and he was gonna vocalize that thought, “that’s really smart.. now maybe i won't misplace the damn thing all the time”. he joked, you laughed.

when the soft sound of happiness died between the two of you there was a curtain of goodbyes falling over both of you. you didn’t want it to end but it was so late into the night. eddie grabbed your wrist again and moved you closer into him making sure you were warm and safe from the cold november air, it was redundant considering he let you borrow his jacket. you nuzzled into his chest, the drinks making you overly clingy and cuddly. 

but all good things must come to an end. you couldn’t be wrapped up in the feeling of his warmth for long. a black car pulled up to the chain link fence that was barely guarding the alleyway where the cars that parked behind the hideout stayed. eddie huffed.

he started walking you over to open the gate to the fence, he and steve would leave after your departure so they needed the room to get his car though. you watched as he pulled the fence open, it made a pointed creaking sound. gravel against metal. you stood still, confused on who was in the mysterious car.

“called you a cab on the payphone when i went inside to find my lighter”, he paused. “i– i hope.. that's not me overstepping or anything, just wanted to make sure you got home safe, t’has all”. eddie smiled at you when your eyes sparkled. “no.. that’s fine. thank you eddie… i would’ve forgot”, you showed appreciation. 

eddie grabbed your hand as he led you to the side of the car. he opened the door for you. extending his right arm out to make sure you had something to grab onto if you lost your balance while you leaned down. meanwhile his left hand grabbed the top of the car, the part that you could easily bump your head on in your intoxicated state, and he was glad he did. your temple brushed against his knuckle softly, whereas if he hadn’t placed his hand there you would’ve forsure been tending to a bruise in addition to your hangover tomorrow morning. when you swung both of your legs into the cab eddie moved around to lean into the space.

“now listen, sweetheart.” eddie tipped his body forward in the back passenger seat. he pulled the collar of his coat towards himself to pop the collar and get your concentration on him. his grip pulling the nape of your neck forward. when you faced him he smiled a dopey grin, the beers he had drank were hitting him hard but the man was drunk on your attention. “you’re gonna tell the nice cab driver your address… you're gonna get home, drink some water, and then go to bed, m’kay?”

your eyes smiled, “mhhmm. m'kay, eddie”, you said. he continued his rules, “then you’re gonna come see me next week, yeah? you promised, sweetheart.. and i gotta get my jacket back somehow…” you bobbed your head at him. “atta girl”, the praise he supplied you was almost a groan, it came from somewhere deep inside him. 

then he was shutting the door, his sudden absence made you feel cold, but his jacket swallowing your frame was like a blanket. it kept you company and still smelled like him. you told the driver your address and hummed as he repeated it back to you. he put the car in drive and pulled out of the large alley. you watched a pair of headlights beam behind you. It must've been steve and eddie.

★

as you pulled into the familiar environment of your home you reached into your jean pocket to grab your house keys. hopping out of the car was a task but you managed to keep yourself upright. you walked inside of your apartment after unlocking your door haphazardly. the demands eddie had asked of you still ringing in your head. 

first you moved to the small kitchen to grab a glass of water. you drank an entire cup before refilling it and then making your way to your bedroom hallway. in the dark hall was a guest bathroom that had a cabinet in the mirror. you walked in, opened the cabinet and grabbed two painkillers. eddie hadn’t reminded you to do so but your body was on autopilot, making sure you wouldn’t ache by tomorrow morning. it was a weekday, you still had to go to work. 

your throat burned as you swallowed them down with your water. you wondered if eddie was having the same issues you were and if he was as sluggish. he seemed to handle his liquor better than you had. six beers didn’t seem to do anything other than make him more confident.

after your medical pit stop in the bathroom, you pushed the door to your bedroom open. the back of your heels dragging as you tried to move hastily to fall into bed. you clicked on your bedside lamp and started to pull the layers of clothes off of yourself. 

when you reached into eddie’s big jacket pocket to pull the protective layer off, the tips of your fingernails brushed against a piece of paper. it was a ticket for eddie’s next show marked for tuesday of next week. you had no idea how he had gotten it in there, considering it wasn’t there before. you smiled and dived back into the compartment to investigate further. there was a bundled up napkin. you unraveled it to see if there was a message scribed onto it, sure enough there was.

“just in case you forget after tomorrow's headache, you promised you’d come see me. i stole a ticket from the box office when i went inside to call you a cab, hope to see you soon, sweetheart. xx. eddie.”

“p.s. need my jacket back.” 

you threw his coat on the ground next to your bed. it fell with a big thud. you turned to lay the ticket and note next to your water so you would be sure to see it in the morning. after stripping your other restricted clothes off, you climbed under the warm covers. you didn’t fight your brain as you let the thoughts and feelings you couldn’t blame on the liquor bubbling in your chest rest just like your heavy eyes. you fell into a deep slumber.

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[yanderenightmare]

Incel Bakugou please :( him kidnapping darling and forcing her to be his slut because it’s the only thing she’s good for :(

I incorporated another ask I received about a Ghostface Bakugou into this, so enjoy~

BNHA ! FIC

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: yandere, prank calling, breaking and entering, threats

tip-jar: Kofi

STRANGER

The time was a little after midnight. And you, despite being heavy-eyed and blinking, were still lying stomach-down, sprawled out on the couch.

Some dumb show about some dumb dysfunctional family was playing low on the TV in front of you – not much to your interest, it appeared, or at least not enough to cop your full attention – but enough to act as somewhat pleasing white noise, you didn’t mind letting lull you to sleep.

You were beginning to drool on the pillow your head lay resting on and looked to be struggling between the indecision of getting up to brush your teeth and the more tempting pleasant thought of simply sleeping right there, without the chores of getting ready for bed.

Your arm was mindlessly dangling towards the ground where the remote had slipped to some time ago, along with your phone that suddenly – just when it looked like you were about to fully nod off – started to ring.

Startled, you flinched at the sheer chimes buzzing loud beneath you. Waking by it as though it were the sound of an alarm going off, only it visibly wasn’t yet morning from the looks of the dark outside.

You groaned then, both out of ire and relief – happy it was still nighttime as you were still tired, yet reluctant to have to speak to someone for much of the same reason. 

Hesitating for a small moment, thinking it was just a friend with some silly emergency – you were tempted to ignore it before guilt got in the way – where with a pinch between your brows and a big yawn, you swiped to answer it nonetheless.

Clicking speakerphone, you had your eyes still fully closed while croaking out a groggy and slightly bothered, “Hello?”

You expected to hear drunken cries and the muted thumps of base and beat and club chatter or something like it – all in all, at least a whiney girlish voice belonging to a friend – but none of the sorts was at the other end of the line.

“Hello.” It said, much awake compared to you in a voice dark and raspy – audibly altered by some type of scrambler, yet still clearly male.

Still, you didn’t really have the sensibility to think much of it just yet. 

“Who’s this?” You asked.

“Who’s this?” He asked back, making your brows further scrunch. 

“You’re the one calling?” You replied in askance, dragging your head from the pillow to peek down at the phone on the floor, viewing the caller ID – which gave you next to nothing aside from letting you know that your caller was unknown.

“You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine~” He offered then, and your suspicions of it being a prank call only solidified.

And although the corner of your mouth quirked upward by the sentiment, it was unfortunately just a bit late for you to be bothering with. “I’m a little too sleepy to humor pranks right now- I’m sorry. Try again later- bye~” You managed to muster through a yawn, hanging up and thinking that was the end of it.

Only, it didn’t take long for the phone to ring again.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” The same voice asked through the phone.

The thought of simply hanging up again crossed your mind, but at the same time, you didn’t really see the harm in talking with the man. After all, you were awake now anyway – and besides, given he was using a voice-scrambler, it wasn’t so unlikely that it was someone you knew.

And with that, you figured you’d humor them, if only for a little while before brushing your teeth. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”

“No~” It answered – still in that very altered voice that made it impossible to place.

“Well, my mother taught me better~” You joked with a tiny laugh, thinking the entire thing was kind of exciting now that you were sobering up – your mind slowly waking up and starting to spin. Not knowing exactly who was on the other end – whether it was a coworker or friend, or someone else entirely. You couldn't quite figure out who would bother to do such a thing in the dead of night – to you, of all people.

“Oh, come on~ aren’t you tired of being a goody-two-shoes?” He flirted back, and you giggled a little louder while picking the phone up from the floor.

“Fine then, Mr. Stranger~” You whispered slowly and coyly, rolling over to lay on your back instead before continuing. “What did you wanna talk to me about?” 

A dark chuckle came back through the phone, making your stomach purr in turn before he spoke again. “What are you wearing?”

You paused at that – cheeks heating with teeth sinking deep into your lip. “Hm…” Looking down at your drab pajama, you didn’t exactly feel inclined to be truthful. “Sexy lingerie~” You tried instead, trying to keep from laughing while putting on your best mock-sultry voice.

“I don’t like liars.” The man answered. “I know you’re wearing pajamas.”

You pouted. “Okay, fine- you caught me.” 

“Still sexy, though.” He added, making you giggle again.

“And you’re a little creepy, Mr. Stranger.” You stated with a tease, biting your lip with a smile while looking at the phone for his reply.

Only his answer wasn’t very nice. “You’re the one whoring around with an unknown man on the phone, slut.”

Your eyes widened before abruptly hanging up.

His voice had changed, and immediately the whole conversation didn’t feel very fun anymore. Suddenly mean-spirited, it soured into something that made you feel all in all rather stupid for even amusing in the first place.

But again… it only took a few seconds for the phone to ring a third time. 

“Don’t hang up on me.” The same voice demanded.

And while feeling bored of the game, you sighed with a huff and asked him nonetheless, “What do you want?”

“I told you already, I want to know your name~” He said, his playful tone of voice back again – only this time, you weren’t at all charmed by it anymore.

“Why do you want to know my name?” You bit out sourly. Unsure why you were still on the phone and even more unsure why you even bothered picking up yet again at all.

“Well… ‘cause…” He began slowly with a pause, and your brows only sunk lower with his antics, finding yourself properly pissed until he uttered the next line – only now in a deeply unsettling whisper. “I want to know who I’m looking at.”

You went cold, with a chill running sharply down your spine. 

Sitting up slowly, you held the phone tightly in your grip while looking at all the windows viewing the darkness outside.

“Oh~ you look cute when you’re scared~” He continued, and you jumped to your feet and stomped to the first window, drawing the curtains one after the other one until none remained.

“Quit calling.” You finished, hanging up for what you really wished would be the last time.

Seconds later, the phone rang again despite your wish. Only this time, you let it ring – deliberating whether you ought to call the police or simply ignore it until it stopped. 

You went to check if the outer door was locked before padding back to the couch, listening to the phone finish ringing before beginning anew.

You figured he’d stop after a while, but minutes passed without a break until you finally picked up – not out of fear, but anger.

“I told you not to hang up on me!” He yelled, and you sneered.

“Listen, asshole-”

“No, you listen, you stupid bitch-” He interrupted. “If you hang up on me again, I’ll wring your little neck ‘til your eyes pop-”

You gaped at his threats but weren’t about to let yourself be bullied either. “If you don’t stop calling, the next call will be to the police!”

“Tch-” He scoffed before laughter spilled through the speaker. Louder and louder until it stopped with the next utterance. “Stupid pigs won’t make it in time.”

There was a crash of glass somewhere in the house, and you flinched while withholding a scream. 

Fear hit you like a flash, robbing you of breath before your instinct took you towards the door. 

Rushing, wide-eyed and goosefleshed, you swallowed thickly while trying to think. With your phone gripped tight in one hand, you tried pushing in the numbers to the police – while at the same time struggling with the lock to the door, shaking the knob with no fruition until finally pushing it open.

You cast a glance over your shoulder, viewing the empty house that now suddenly seemed much darker than before – ears going deaf with the rush of blood in your head, pumping thick from the panicked beating of your heart. 

Taking a rushed springy step without yet facing forward, you had your mind set on running to the neighbors, only – instead of bursting out into the open street, you were sent back into the house – stumbling until you hit the floor with a wince. 

Your phone slipped from your hand – not only crashing to the ground as hard as you did but smashing into a broken mess as well – now utterly useless.

A dark-cloaked figure stood at the threshold, taking up the entire frame.

“Silly bitch.” He said nonchalantly, stepping inside – shoulders broad and boots heavy with his face covered by a white mask. Then he laughed, raising a large knife that made you scurry back. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to let strangers inside the house?”

tip-jar: Kofi

Part 2 coming soon...