#when he's not calling ed week for being in love he's calling him crazy

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

can we talk about how the dialogue in episodes 3 and 4 and the way that we see Izzy and Blackbeard interact in episode 3 implies that Ed doesn’t really get out much and relies on Izzy to filter most of his interactions with other people and Izzy manipulates that to his advantage just all the fuckin time. Like I might be misreading this but they don’t really show us Blackbeard interacting with Fang and Ivan ever really, despite the fact that they’ve presumably been sailing together for some time. And Ed sorta vibing telling ghost stories is the most open and available they’ve ever seen him, despite Ed being pretty open and available generally even when Stede’s not around which makes me think that until Ed and Izzy started fighting, Ed was letting Izzy do a lot of his social interacting for him. And we only see him do this for one episode (episode 3) and in that Episode, Izzy manipulates the way that Ed is perceiving the situation at every possible opportunity. By failing to tell Stede who his boss is so that he’ll get Stede to say something stupid that he can bring back to Ed and by telling Ed unequivocally that Stede knew who he was despite this. He also lies about his own behavior and Ed seems to just take his word for it. He says “I’ve massaged this crew when they were worried about your judgement” but the only time we see him responding to a crew member worried about Ed’s judgement is when Fang asks why they have to follow Stede and Izzy’s response is “How should I know, the man’s half insane. No one asked you to fucking think” which is exactly the opposite of what he says he’s doing.

Ed also seems to think that he needs Izzy. When Izzy tries to leave at the end of episode 4 Ed says all the things he knows will make him stay. At the beginning of Episode 7 Ed is ready to leave the revenge, and I think it’s because Izzy is no longer around. Episode 9 the first thing he does, even after Izzy’s betrayal, when he gets back on the revenge, is save Izzy and reinstate him as first mate. Even after the move with Calico Jack, even after selling him out to the British and then using him as a bargaining chip (Izzy didn’t buy Ed’s freedom in exchange for Stede, he bought Ed. Ed was turned over into the custody of captain Hands by the British which I do think is probably an important distinction) After all of that, Ed still puts Izzy in a position where he can control how the crew sees Ed, how Ed sees what’s going on on the ship, and who Ed talks to.

All of this of course culminates in Izzy being able to completely flip Ed’s emotional state in just one conversation. He basically breaks Ed’s spirit when Ed was honestly doing so well recovering from one of the most intense heartbreaks of his life. Every time Izzy hurls his verbal abuse at Ed, Ed either compartmentalizes and distances himself (”That’s Blackbeard, I’m Stede, remember?”) or he is violently reactive (”Chose you’re next words wisely, dog”) It’s fight or flight, and no one else has that reaction to Izzy’s verbal abuse. Lucius doesn’t give a fuck, Stede matches his energy. Like Izzy’s not a scary character, everyone but Ed treats him like an angry chihuahua when being insulted by him and yet he put’s Ed into survival mode with a word.

I also think it bares mentioning that as soon as Izzy looses his control over Ed he responds by doing something that could kill Ed (i.e. selling him out to the Brits.) He’s going to get back control by any means necessary.

I think what I’m saying is that Izzy is Ed’s abuser, and a lot of people just didn’t notice that because Ed has power over Izzy in that Ed is the captain and Izzy is the first mate, and because the show depicts Ed enacting physical violence on Izzy (i.e. punching him, choking him, and feeding him his own toe). Traditionally when you see an abuser and their victim in media the victim doesn’t enact violence unless it’s in the context of getting rid of the abuser for good and freeing themself, but Ed does it in the context of succumbing to the abuse, which I find fascinating. This show is really good at depicting complicated and messy relationships, and I think Ed and Izzy might be one of the most complicated and messy that there is. It depicts an abuse that isn’t a helpless woman and a domineering man and it flew over some people’s heads but I can’t think of another reason for Ed to behave the way he does around Izzy. And once you see it you feel dumb for not seeing it because Izzy really pulls out all the stops short of hitting him. He gaslights Ed, he manipulates Ed, he isolates Ed from his community, he yells at him, he threatens him, he forces Ed to walk a tightrope and if Ed doesn’t stick exactly to Izzy’s expectations of him he actively tries to do Ed harm. And It’s effective, even when Ed should kick Izzy to the curb he doesn’t because he’s fully convinced he can’t live without Izzy.

[bangaveragewhitewine]

crazy-mad for you

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, frenemies to lovers)  - Happy Hours series

Chicago, 1991. When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break.

A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...

This is 18+. If you’re not 18 please hit the back button and read something else.

Word count: 16.7 K

Contents/Warnings: Frenemies to lovers. Misogynistic comments; objectification, men being men. Some violence; Eddie gets in a fight. This is an 18+ fic. Smoking, alcohol consumption & drug use. Oral (reader receiving). P in V sex. Excessive use of pet names. Eddie & Reader are mid to late twenties. Reader is written as AFAB and uses female pronouns.

Author’s Note: One minute you’re daydreaming about cherry margaritas and Eddie Munson, and the next you’re writing 36 pages of how you fall in love with him... Just girly things? This is my first attempt at writing Eddie ❤️

I do hope you enjoy it, I had fun writing it! Thank you @specialagentmonkey for beta reading / being my hype woman.

Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not repost my work to other sites.

Dividers by me ✌️

The cold fizz of vodka soda lime prickles your throat with a pleasant burn. 

It’s August and it’s warm, too warm to be crammed in this little dive bar with too many bodies and not enough of them wearing antiperspirant. Way too warm to be working, slinging cheap drinks to the thirsty Friday night crowd crushed into Jackie’s. They can be stingy with their ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ but the tips are good at least (thanks to the pulled-low hem of your tank top showing just enough and the hug of denim on your hips). 

Jackie’s was a popular little dive you had visited during your first week in Chicago; a drink with your new roommate and some friends ended with you charming the owner Frank and promising to return for a trial shift the following evening. That was almost a year ago and you had settled in well, stepping up to be a supervisor after six months. 

Now, bone tired and wishing just a little bit that you worked a nine to five, you long for a cool shower and something fried and crispy and maybe cheesy (not particularly in that order). You’re here until close, two a.m last call followed by another hour of cleaning. Then you’re home free. Until tomorrow night anyway.

You tip back the last of your drink and crunch the ice between your teeth. Those last few minutes of your break are dwindling and soon you will haul yourself back, to fill beers and shake-up cocktails, all tits and teeth and aching feet. The music from the bar is loud as you perch on your stool at the back door, but you hear him over it hum-singing something way more Billboard Hot 100 than his usual taste. It makes your lips curve into a smirk, your head leaning back against the cool brick wall. 

“Don't you know, hmmhnn change. Things'll go your way. Hmmm hmm Hold On for -”

“Hey, hotshot.”

The small startle that shakes Eddie’s black-clothed body makes you laugh more than it should, particularly when he attempts to brush it off and play cool. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, I should’ve known you’d be here.” His voice is a groan, head tipped back with hammed-up exasperation. 

“Careful, Ed. They’ll revoke your metalhead licence if they hear you’re singing Wilson Phillips these days.” Your voice is a conspiratorial stage whisper as you cross your legs, stacking one over the other. His usual leather jacket has been swapped out for the hot summer nights, black denim over his usual tight black t-shirt and Dickies. 

He rolls and flicks his lighter to set the cigarette between his lips aflame as he meanders toward you. You can hear the crackle of burning tobacco as he takes a long drag, eyes never leaving you. “Not shaking your tits for tips, sugar?”

“Aw, been thinking about me while you’re asking cute girls what their star sign is?” you snark, missing the shadow of something that passes over Eddie’s face as your eyes roll. 

You switch your focus to the night sky above as Eddie comes to loom by you. The smoke swirls around him as he offers the cigarette out to you. Before taking it, you reach back and leave your empty glass on the sill behind you and swap a chilled bottle of Budweiser for the smoking cig. 

It’s not an olive branch, just part of your usual ritual; trading acidic barbs, mean words, shared smokes and free drinks whenever you’re scheduled on the same shifts (which is most nights). 

Eddie uses his keys to uncap the bottle and takes a long pull, head tipped back to show off his pale throat. A sliver of silver glints around his neck. The beer is almost half gone when he rips a truly boyish burp. Gross. 

You take a drag, sighing the smoke into the warm air. 

“What’s the sigh about, princess? Did someone not say please when they asked for their Cosmo? Your little apron tied too tight?” Eddie plucks at the wrap of black fabric around your waist. The way it hugs the curve and flair of your hips is certainly not lost on him.

You blow your second drag of smoke directly at him for that one. “Well if you could make sure we’re not packing the place out and breaching health and safety, that would be fuckin’ fantastic.” 

“Simmer down, princess. I’ve got it handled. You just pour your little drinks and wink at the boys and we’ll get through tonight just fine, ‘kay? Leave the crowd control to me.” Eddie tilts his head, dripping condescension like the total asshole he is. He’s way closer than you even realised and you can smell the spicy Fahrenheit behind the smoke. There’s heavy silence as you both glare at each other in the back alley.

The heat and hectic night make your banter especially snarky but Eddie’s the first to break, nudging you with a little smile. You barely catch his gaze dropping to your lips as you take another drag from his cigarette.

“No one giving you any trouble tonight?” he asks. 

“No more than usual. Just absolutely slammed in there. Just got done changing kegs again - they’re drinking us dry and it’s only Friday.” You roll your neck, sighing again when it cracks. 

“Tips good?” He seems almost genuine until his mean little smirk returns,  “Your tits are probably doing the real heavy liftin’ but..” 

“Listen dickh-”

Just as you’re about to cuss him out, there’s a burst of music and crowd noise as one of the other bartenders comes to find you. Michelle looks between you and Eddie before rolling her eyes. “C’mon, you’re really pushin’ that ten-minute break tonight. Sorry to break up whatever this was,” she flaps her hand between you and Eddie (who’s grinning like a wolf as he finishes his beer), “but we have a bachelorette party in line and it’s already crazy in there.” 

“Bachelorettes?” Eddie pushes off the wall and steals the smoke back from your fingers, “Sounds like I should probably get back to work. Ladies.” He winks before sauntering off, leaving you almost simmering with something like anger until Michelle scoffs and drags you back inside. 

“The sooner you two just bang and get it out of your system, the better,” Michelle tuts. 

“Ew. Pass.” You scoff and pause at the dingy mirror to fix your hair and pat the sweat away with a rip of trusty blue roll, scooping your breasts up in their cups and adjusting your top before scurrying after Michelle again. If you’re going to be busy, you may as well make it worthwhile and rake in the tips. 

The bar is louder than loud but you’re energised from your vodka soda and little sparring session with Eddie and easily fall back into step with the other bar staff, working together like a well-oiled machine - despite the annoying rusty hinge manning the door.  

Eddie rejoined the staff with his buddy Jeff in tow after they had spent some time on tour with their band. You had barely contained your eye rolls when the loud metalhead had waltzed into one of Frank’s staff meetings (conducted over pizza and pitchers of beers) unannounced and kicked his feet up on a table like he owned the place. Everyone was happy to see him (adding a round of shots to toast his glorious return) but you stayed wary of the flirty metalhead with a silver tongue and big brown Bambi eyes. Yeah, you felt warm all over when he looked you up and down and smiled like a wolf but you knew his type - total flirt, make a girl feel special and then move on to the next one. You didn’t move your entire life to a whole new state to get fucked over again, so you and Eddie settled into trading catty comments while you watch out for each other, allowing the occasional flirtation for balance. Getting under each other’s skin in whatever way seemed most annoying and fun? It worked, made the slow nights bearable, the busy ones more fun. Whatever it was. 

An hour later the small of your back is nearly soaked with perspiration. The bachelorettes are in full flight, meaning you have been pouring shots and mixing cocktails non-stop. They’re sweet at least, good with their excited ‘thank you!’s for all the fruity drinks you made them - cherry margaritas, blue lagoons and strawberry daiquiris going down an absolute treat. 

You’re shaking another batch of lemon drop shots for a girl's night group when you become hyper-aware of two yuppie finance bros with their gaze firmly fixed on your chest, trading little smirks and comments with each other behind their glasses. You’re overcome with an overwhelming sense of ick. 

It’s nothing new, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore sometimes - even when you’re up-the-walls busy and the kegs need to be changed. You refocus and fix your gaze on the glowing EXIT sign, thinking about how many more cocktails you will make before close. Your eye is caught instead by Eddie standing by the door, already looking at you while he’s supposed to be making sure none of the patrons are being too dickish. 

When your eyes meet he tilts his chin in a nod. Eddie smirks as he shimmies his chest at you, to which you mouth a very easily recognisable ‘FUCK YOU’ with a cheeky wink for good measure. 

He shakes his head and you pour the line of shots, earning yourself a nice big tip and a rake of compliments from the drunk girls who make you promise to do a shot with them later. Not a promise you can definitely keep, but their enthusiasm is a balm for your soul.

As they shuffle away to give each other pep talks in the bathroom (gosh, you love them), one of the men who had been eyeing you up steps into their place. You don’t miss the way he drags his eyes over their bodies before his snake-like stare is fixed on you. You have already made plenty on tips so you dial back the smile, giving him a barely polite brow raise in place of a ‘What’ll it be?’

“Two whiskeys, top shelf. Whatever’s expensive in this dump,” he says, speaking to your chest rather than your face. You can smell the sour of his breath across the counter. 

You square your jaw and suppress an eye roll that would surely render you sightless for the rest of your days. “If you don’t like it, the doors over there. Ice?”

He grunts affirmative and you pour the drinks from the barely touched bottle, slamming the glasses down just hard enough to startle him before you give him his total.

“There’s an extra fifty in it if you give me a smile,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar with the crisp note in hand. “You been given’ out a lot more for a lot less all night. One little smile for me?” The man nods to your cleavage, and you refuse to feel self-conscious. 

You can’t summon the effort to even fuck with him, come up with a comeback that his Neanderthal brain couldn’t possibly comprehend. You give him his total again along with your best deadpan glare. “You’re holding up the line. Pay up or am I going to need to cut you off, buddy?”

His face turns sour, acidic anger bubbling up. “You’re a hard little bitch, aren’t ya?”

You smirk at that, plucking the fifty from between his thin fingers to cash up before dropping his change back on the counter. “I am, thank you so much for noticing.” Your voice is nearly saccharine, and you play up the airhead facade for a moment before turning to the customer next to him. “Next please!”

His curses blend into the background as Michelle hip-checks you with a grin and wink, which you return while beginning to pour beers for your next order. If you let every slimeball get to you, you would have given up a long time ago. 

On such a busy night, it was easy to be distracted and forget all about him, but the sharp brown eyes standing by the door saw everything - and he wasn’t so forgiving. 

Almost another hour passes; another keg change, more cocktails to shake, another few visits from your favourite group of girls (who you take a shot of tequila with when they bat their lashes at you - you’re a sucker when it comes to girls who give you compliments and smell like vanilla).  

The crowd thins a bit and you take a turn collecting empties, happy to have an excuse to get out from behind the bar and stretch your legs again, even if it is to balance too many glasses on a too-small tray. The ever-changing obstacle course of the floor on a Friday night is one you’re well practised at, dodging stray elbows and dipping in between patrons to take their spent glasses from the sticky tables, maybe chat a little if it’s not too loud or busy. 

Paradise City is pouring through the speakers as your arms begin to protest the load they are carrying. You know your limit and pick up two more stacked pint glasses, catching Eddie’s eye as he bids goodnight to some regulars. His boot is already halfway out the door after them when you see his face change into something you can’t fully comprehend. Not because you can’t read him - you absolutely can - but your body is careening forward and down toward the floor before you can catch yourself. Your foot had caught on something that hadn’t been there before you met Eddie’s stare, sending you flying forward. 

There’s a thud, crash, smash as you hit the deck alongside every single glass you had expertly balanced. The sound feels huge, ringing in your ears and it’s like the air is sucked out of the room, your body is winded by the unexpected impact. The music cuts and everything hurts - part ego, part ‘that’ll bruise tomorrow’ pain. 

You wish for the sticky floor to just swallow you up as patrons form a little circle around you, crunching broken glass under their feet. A familiar pair of boots stops right by your head. Eddie. He crouches to kneel by you with one hand heavy on your shoulder and floods your already overwhelmed senses with his smoke and leather and spice. 

He says your name, edged with panic until you open your squeezed-shut eyes. You manage to push yourself up with a small wince, hauling yourself with his help to sit on a quickly-vacated low stool. His hands feel huge as they cup your face, you hadn’t noticed how long his lashes were (unfair) or the freckles dusted across his nose. 

“M’okay, Ed. Jus’ need a minute,” your murmur, head ducked to hide your hot cheeks and embarrassment. He stands and puts his arm around you, without thinking you rest your head against his hip but miss his slight intake of breath as your coworkers calm the crowd and start sweeping and gathering the glass, and thankfully turn the music back on. 

Eddie bends a little to speak to you, low and quiet, “Just sit there a sec, okay? ‘Chelle is going to bring you to the staff room.”  

You nod and take a few breaths before taking his hand to stand and be passed safely into Michelle’s care.

“I’ll be back to you in a sec. Don’t go gettin’ in any more trouble, ‘kay?” Eddie’s softness has an edge now, his eyes zeroing in on the man who had given you shit at the bar earlier. The one Eddie had been glaring at ever since; he had seen him stick his foot out to trip you. 

You’re just about to push through to the back hallway when you hear raised voices. Eddie’s voice is louder than the others. You turn and see him squaring up to the slimeball who asked you for a smile earlier, not looking as clever or slick now that Eddie’s up in his face.

“Oh, what the fuck,” Michelle murmurs, pausing behind you to watch. 

“I saw you fuckin’ trip her man. Get the fuck out.” Eddie is incensed. “Been givin’ her shit all night.”

Trip her? Oh. He means you.

“I wouldn’t touch’er. That bitch? Fuck off man, get out of my face.”

There’s a scuffle, another broken glass. More shouting before it really kicks off, fists swinging. Through the horrified crowd, you see knuckles connecting with Eddie’s pretty face. It hurts when you yell out his name, adding to the noise as Jeff rushes in to get the men under control. 

Eddie lands his own punch, rings slamming into the man's jaw, raising a collective ‘ooof’ from the gathered crowd. Despite the blood on his face and hands, Eddie manages to haul him out into the street with Jeff, some beefy regular marching the second man out by the scruff of his neck. 

“What the fuck…” you breathe, realising that you were holding on to Michelle’s arm way too tight. You apologise and she steers you back to the staff room in a daze of pain and confusion (more from the fight than your fall). The room is little more than a box with a wall of beat-up lockers, a sink and counter, a table with cracked Formica and creaky chairs and a squishy old two-seater. It’s cramped but it can be a haven on a busy night. 

As you ease yourself into the corner of the squishy sofa, Michelle pours you a big measure of whiskey for the shock. She kneels in front of you, looking you over for any cuts or scrapes from the glass, and checks your pupils for good measure. You’re just shaken up and feeling the impact of the fall. 

“You dizzy or anything?” she asks, squeezing your knee. “You’re gonna have a big fuckin’ bruise, babe. Remember when I spilled that pitcher, slipped and fell on my ass back before Christmas? Black and blue well into New Year.” She squeezes your knee and encourages you to take a sip of your drink. 

The whiskey burns but you barely feel it. 

“Why did Eddie hit that guy? Did.. did he trip me? The floor was clear, I just… I didn’t see... My foot caught something but..” Your voice shakes from the adrenaline, the shock of the last few minutes. 

She shrugs with a little smile. “I didn’t see either. You’ll need to ask Ed yourself.” A little frown etches between her brows. “He doesn’t… he doesn’t get pissed like that for no reason. He’s a good guy, babe. He looks out for everyone, staff and the drunks. He wouldn’t do that without a good reason. I know you get up each other’s ass but..-” 

As you take another sip, the door swings open. 

Eddie. Eddie with a bloody nose, lip swollen. Eddie with his jacket off, draped over his arm as he flexes his bloody knuckles around a bottle of Jack Daniels, a pint glass of ice in the other hand.

“Hey, you okay?”

His brown eyes are wide, but he’s trying to play cool despite the adrenaline coursing through him too. Eddie feels like his entire body is buzzing, not in a good way like when he plays a gig or when he gets you riled up at him, when you roll your eyes and give him that smirk - bad like when he used to get in fights in school, when a teacher would assume he was the troublemaker and send him to detention or the principal’s office. 

You look at Eddie and he looks right back at you. You can’t look away from each other. It’s like your fall and his punches caused something to shift; you can’t name it but it weighs on you, both of you. 

Michelle squeezes your hand. “I’ll leave you two to patch yourselves up. Be good.” A kiss is dropped to your head and she squeezes Eddie’s arm as she passes him by. 

It’s just you now. You and Eddie, both hurting. 

“Ed…”

He takes a long pull from the bottle of Jack and drops into the seat next to you. 

“Eddie, what the hell was that?” Your voice is quiet and your eyes shine when you look at him. He is a ball of frenetic energy, knee bouncing. You take in the black ink on his arms, see the veins and muscles twitch beneath. His nose and mouth are stained bloody, knuckles and rings too. 

He looks over you, sees how you’re holding yourself carefully after your fall. “He tripped you.” Eddie’s voice is quiet, not something you hear often. He’s loud and he’s brash, hear-him-before-you-see-him kinda guy. 

“Oh.”

“Oh? He’d been giving you shit all night, you could’ve called me. Or Jeff.” He sips the whiskey again and tops up your glass without another word.   

“Yeah, he was a creep. Nothing new there. If I come crying to you and Jeff every time someone gets fresh with me I’d never be behind the bar. People are assholes. I can handle myself, Ed.” 

“And how’d that go for you tonight? You could’ve been really fuckin’ hurt.” His eyes blaze, nostrils flare. 

Your jaw drops, “You’re blaming me?” 

“No. No, fuck,” he growls in frustration. “I know you can handle yourself. That’s why you’re fuckin’ great at your job. If I had just taken him out when he gave you shit at the bar then maybe -” 

“Jesus Christ, Eddie I don’t need you to save me or protect me! Shit happens! This was shit. It happened. You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to... I want to..”

The air between you is charged and heavy. 

I want to. What does that mean? 

Eddie covers himself quickly. 

“It’s my job. I want to make sure you, everyone here, can do their job without some fuckin’ guy with halitosis making it worse for you, waving his cash in your face like that.” Eddie nudges you gently, “I just want to do somethin’ right. I like working with you, even when you’re a pain in my ass.” 

You scrunch your nose up, “Sap.” It’s easy to both fit back into your normal routine, ignoring the lingering something more that had just become quite clear to both of you. 

“I might like working with you too. Don’t let it get to your head, I’m not sure your ego needs to get any bigger, Munson.”

He smiles, but the throb of his nose makes him wince and swear.

Eddie has made no attempt to put that glass of ice to good use so you ease yourself up to grab two clean bar towels, tipping the ice into one before wrapping it up. You pass it back to him before filling the empty glass with water.

“Thanks, princess.” Eddie flexes his fingers as the ice soothes the burning with cool unpleasantness. 

You ease yourself back into your seat, facing Eddie now. “C’mere. Let me clean you up.” 

He pauses, looking at you from the side of his big brown eyes before turning to face you. “It’s not broken. Just a little blood. You should see the other guy..” Eddie grins when you roll your eyes. 

“My hero,” you deadpan, though you do kind of mean it. 

With the damp corner of the rag, you gently begin to wipe the blood from Eddie’s face, sitting closer than you have ever really been to him. It’s silent between you, the quietest you have ever seen him. He’s too busy watching you, your focused face and how seriously you are taking your task. 

“Very gentle,” he murmurs. 

“Mm, don’t try me, Munson.” You’re quiet again, concentrating on wiping the blood and not looking into his eyes. “Not your first bloody nose after a fight then?”

“M’nope. High school… Mosh pits. Few angry drunks. The usual.” He doesn’t mention his father’s temper, his first bloody nose from a beer-soaked backhand. The whiskey tastes sour in his mouth at the memory.

You lean back a bit, assessing your work before wetting another edge of the towel. Eddie crosses his eyes, looking down his nose. “Am I pretty again?” He gives an extra cheesy grin for emphasis, making you laugh. It makes his heart soar; that sound, how you duck your head. But he sees your pained wince, bringing him right back to earth. 

“Shit, sorry.” “It’s fine. I’ll live.”

You bring your hand back to his face and wipe the last of the blood-stained around his mouth, taking one last slow swipe over his too-plump-to-be-decent lower lip. That was more for you than for him, though the spark of fire in his eyes said otherwise; it was the same spark lit low in your belly since you had first laid eyes on him and started your incessant teasing of each other. 

“All done.” Your voice is just above a whisper, neither of you making any move backwards. 

“Thank you, nurse.” You can feel the warmth of his breath on your face. “Hey, can you... wear one of those little white dresses next time?” 

He’s grinning again when you shove at his shoulder to put some space between you, the skin beneath almost burning hot under your hand even through the black cotton of his t-shirt.

“No next time. You hear me? Your groupies will come for me if that pretty face gets all bashed up.” There’s that smirk of yours that sets the embers burning low in his stomach alight. 

He rolls his eyes at you, stealing your move. “You heading home?” he asked, watching you again as you drained the last of the whiskey in your glass. 

“Mm, soon. I’ll check if I can help close and clean, then I’ll go.” You lean your head against the back of the battered sofa and close your eyes briefly. You think you might just sleep here until your stomach growls like something from the seventh circle of hell.

Eddie’s big brown eyes shine with mirth, astounded at the inhuman noise that just came from your curled-up body. 

“Shut up. I’ll make cereal or something when I get home.”

“Nuh-uh. You like fries?”

“Who doesn’t like fries?” you peek one eye open to look at him.

“Let’s get some and I’ll make sure you get home safe.” Eddie checks his knuckles and swipes some of the blood from his rings, acting far more nonchalant than he felt. 

“You don’t need to.” Fries and a shake did sound amazing. Walking home while I felt like a human embodiment bruise? Not so much. 

“I know. But I’m going anyway, and you need to eat. So let me.” 

He pokes your arm as he speaks; you think fleetingly that you might let Eddie Munson do anything if he asked you nicely, spoke to you with that hushed husky voice. You think that you definitely must have hit your head when you start thinking about his eyes…

But he can’t know that, so you settle for an eye roll. “Ugh, fine.” 

With far too much energy, Eddie pushes himself up and empties the ice into the sink along with the red-tinged water. He potters around the little staff room, chucking rags into the bag for the laundry and rinsing glasses. You watch him, curious and a little confused until you realise you are staring and don’t want to be caught. 

You sit up and unlock your tiny locker, taking off and balling up your apron to throw in your bag, spraying deodorant under your arms before shutting and locking it again. Eddie’s got his jacket back on and you carry your own too-big denim jacket over your arm. You give him a nod, ready to go, and head out to the bar to check with Michelle that it’s okay for you to call it a night 

The crowd had thinned to a few stragglers who were almost ready to call it a night. Jeff has the door under control and the bar staff are already cleaning tables and glasses. You promise Michelle you will call her tomorrow, that you will stay in bed if you hurt too much, and accept her gentle hug after she passes you your tips for the night. 

“Get home safe. No more getting into trouble,” she says, eyeing you and Eddie together with interest (and some smugness). 

“No promises. See ya tomorrow ‘Chelle,” Eddie says with a wink before you both head out toward the black ‘86 Dodge Daytona parked a little down the street. It’s still humid and warm outside and you walk in silence until you see him unlock the nice car, opening the door for you. Your stomach flip-flops when he gives you a slight bow. He’s only being nice because you made an ass of yourself at work, you tell yourself. 

“Jesus, being a rockstar really pays off,” you tease and throw your bag into the passenger footwell before easing yourself in. “Or did you steal this?” 

You knew he had worked in a garage before moving to the city, and you force the thought of Eddie in a grease-marked tank top out of your head.

“Nah, my days of grand theft auto are long behind me.” Eddie winks and closes the door before rounding the shiny bonnet to sit in the driver’s seat. His keys jangle before he turns the ignition. 

The radio blares Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast so loud that you just about hear Eddie’s swearing over it until he gets the volume down. “Oops.”

“Dude, mind your fuckin’ ears. You’ll be deaf by thirty.” Your own ears are ringing after the onslaught of noise. 

“Huh?” He holds his hand up to his ear and smirks stupidly before revving the engine. 

You sink back into the low seat and shake your head; your own smile reflects at you in the window as he peels away from the curb. “You better not murder me, Munson. I’ll haunt the fuck out of you if you do.” 

“Once again babe, kidnap and human sacrifice are also long behind me.” 

He drives a little fast, but you don’t hate how you feel sitting in the passenger side of his car. He has a faded Black Ice Little Tree hanging from the rearview mirror alongside a skull keychain that cackles and glows red when you push a button on the back. The cramped back seat camouflages balled-up band shirts, a pair of beat-up Chucks, amp leads and guitar strings - a random accumulation that gives you a glimpse of who Eddie is outside of work. It’s easy for your mind to wander; Eddie, a back seat, what kind of girls he usually brings for a ride in his baby. Instead, you wonder about all you don’t know about the guy you spend a good part of your week with, the man currently driving you to get diner food at 2 a.m. after he punched a guy who was mean to you.

“Feelin’ okay?” he checks, flexing his knuckles on the steering wheel as he takes a left.

“Yeah.” You roll your head to look over at him. “Tell me something.”

Eddie glances across at you, brow raised under his bangs. “What?”

“Something, anything. A secret, a story. You always have something to say, so tell me something.” 

“Mmm. You gonna laugh at me?”

“Probably.”

“Shit okay. Um... Okay. I almost got kicked out of my high school graduation. My friends were disruptively loud, like obnoxious motherfuckers - love them to death. And I flipped the Principal off instead of shaking his sweaty little hand.”

It does make you laugh, just a little - more of a really amused smile. “That’s fuckin’ cool, Munson. Were they your little Dungeons and Dorks friends?”

“Rude.” He pauses. “Dragons. Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Nerd. You’re from where, like Ballsack, Indiana?”

“Close. Hawkins - just north of Ballsack actually.”

“Can’t say I know it. Home of the Metalheads or..?”

“No. Definitely not. S’why I left.”

Your lower lip juts out just a little at the loaded confession.

“Your turn. One secret, please. Dirtier the better.”

“Perv.”

“Witch.”

You smirk, leaning your head back. “Been called worse tonight.” 

You don’t see Eddie’s knuckles twitch while you think of a secret. Hearing that guy call you a bitch reminded him of all the times he had heard his poor mother called the same by the deadbeat he called Dad. 

“Okay, you’re going to piss your pants at me. I used to work at this kinda fancy cocktail place before I moved here,” you say. “Totally lied about my experience before starting. Think… wannabe jazz lounge for yuppies. The menu was like this leather folder thing. Anyway, my first week and this like.. rich lookin’ guy comes in and asks for a Roman Coke.”

You see Eddie glance at you as he indicates and swerves the car smoothly to park opposite a little diner not far from where you live. 

“I’m a few days in, super eager to get it all right. I’m like, ‘Yes, of course, coming right up’ and can I remember what the hell is in a Roman Coke? Fuck no. It’s not on the menu so I think ‘Hey this guy must know better than dumb little me’. I’m flipping through the recipe cards, everyone else is busy and kinda mean anyway so I stare at the liquors for like two minutes before I go back and ask him ‘What’s in that again?’.” 

Eddie’s biting his lip. He knows where this is going. He sees how you light up when you tell your story, begs the butterflies to calm their swooping and swirling behind his ribs as you deliver the punchline. 

“Rum. And Coke.”

His head falls forward, rests on the top of the steering wheel. His shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“Eddie. He was the owner.” 

He cackles. That throaty yell of a laugh you hear ringing through the bar or from the staff room when he’s goofing around instead of working. 

“Oh no..” He’s wiping tears from his eyes as you cringe in his passenger seat. “Oh princess, that’s fuckin’ terrible.” 

You sit together in his parked car until you settle, faces hurting from smiling until your stomach growls again.

“Jesus, the woman needs fries - stat.”

“And a Coke?”

“And a Coke.” 

Eddie is out of the car and opening your door before you even have your seatbelt off. He offers you his hand to help you out of the car, careful of your sore body after the fall. 

“Feeling okay?” he asks, still holding your hand. 

“A bit achy. I’ll have a hot shower and take something before bed.” You lift his hand to check his knuckles. “Sore?” 

“I’ve had worse.”

He squeezes your hand gently before you let go and cross the street to the hole-in-the-wall place glowing with neon Coca-Cola signs. 

“You get in a lot of fights then?” you ask as he holds the door. 

“Not anymore.” Eddie shrugs and leads you to a little table, nodding politely to the waitress filling coffees at the counter. She says hi to him by name and you think about Eddie coming in here alone, or not, after his shifts.

The backs of your thighs catch on the red vinyl and you know you will need to peel yourself up later.

Eddie sits opposite you, looking immediately at home as he relaxes back in the booth. In the bright diner lights you can see where his lip is still swollen and sore, the lingering specs of blood in his nostril despite your careful clean-up.

The waitress, an older woman with thinly drawn brows, comes over and pinches Eddie’s cheek with motherly affection. “Hi hon, you two know what you’re havin’?”

Eddie scrunches his nose like a bunny. “Hi, Marie. Usual for me, and a big basket of fries and a Coke?” He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod. “Please and thank you.”

She eyes you up with a little smile as she writes the order. “I was wonderin’ when Eddie was going to bring a nice girl for me to meet. Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”

By the time you both open your mouths to set Marie straight, she’s already gone. Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink, but he shrugs it off. “Hate to have to break her heart and tell her you’re not a nice girl.”

You gasp in mock offence and put your hand to your heart. “I am so nice.” You can’t even keep a straight face as you say it. “Slandering my good name, Munson. I thought you were all about protecting my honour.”

Your close-to-the-bone teasing keeps the rosy tint on his cheeks. 

“I never told you, your face when you fell? Fuckin’ hilarious. Should’ve taken a picture to put behind the bar.”

The jab puts you even again, not that either of you keeps score but it’s all about balance. Can’t be too nice, don’t want to be too mean. 

You rest your head against the back of the booth and close your eyes for a moment, feeling the exhaustion from a busy and unpredictable night wash over you. 

Eddie takes the opportunity to just look at you for a moment; even under the too-bright lights of the diner, he thinks you might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Tell me something else,” you say before opening your eyes. When you do, you catch a fleeting dreamy look on Eddie’s face and lean forward to rest your chin on your hand as Marie drops over your drinks and food; fries for you, a burger with oozing American cheese and crisp bacon for Eddie. 

“So nosy,” he teases, shoving a straw into his fizzing Coca-Cola. 

You shrug, feeling a burn in your stomach; maybe you were overstepping. “You don’t have to. You can sit and stare at me if you prefer,” You take a long sip through your own gently placed straw and raise your brows at him. 

He can’t and won’t argue with that one and stirs the ice as he thinks, takes a sip. 

“One of the first gigs I played out of our hometown, we had like thirty people instead of the usual five drunks in the Hideout. I tried to crowd surf, thinkin’ I was hot shit. Broke my wrist.” 

Your eyes blow wide as you eat the best fry of your life - it’s perfectly crisp and fluffy, salted just right - but the punchline of Eddie’s latest confession had you wanting to know more.

“You want half?” Eddie asks, nodding to his burger. 

“No, I'm good, thanks. Hold on, reverse to the breaking your wrist after thinking you were Iggy fucking Pop.” 

He’s already a bite in but holds his wrist up before he flips you off. “See? Good as new,” he says, pausing his chew. 

The fries are too good to waste so you push down the urge to throw one at him. 

“I was eighteen. Stupid kid. S’the reason I didn’t graduate that year.” He sips his Coke again and watches your reaction from beneath his lashes. 

“That’s shitty.” You feel the frown deepen between your brows, angry on his behalf about something he was long over. “No wonder you flipped the principal off.” 

You share your fries with Eddie and eat until your stomach feels warm and full. You share another secret too, tell him about the time you got so scared in a haunted house that you punched some guy dressed as a zombie and got kicked out. He almost choked on a fry at that and laughed so loud that Marie looked over and shook her head fondly at her favourite customer. 

It’s easy to drop the charade that you and Eddie don’t get along. A diner at fuck o’clock in the morning exists a world away from the little bar that pays your rent and bills. When you see him get excited telling you a story, letting you see Eddie beyond the bar, you know you got him wrong - he’s funny as fuck, sweet too. 

Midway through a story about how his friend Robin had dragged him to do (very) drunk karaoke last week, Eddie catches you staring and scrunches his face a little. “Am I rambling? Fuck, sorry.”

“No. Well, a little, but I like it.” You sip the dregs of your refilled Coke and smile a little. 

He smiles back, ducking his head just a little and he catches the time on his watch. His Bambi brown eyes blow wide when he realises. “Jesus, I oughta get you home. The sun will be up soon.” 

You didn’t realise either, but you also don’t care. You’re still tired, still aching, but you feel lighter than you have in months, like a long-dead spark might just be coming back. The warm glow is dampened just a bit when Eddie gulps down the last of his drink. 

He pulls his jacket back on and insists that he helps you put yours on when you wince. He settles the bill, kisses the back of Marie’s hand and promises to come see her soon. Neither of you let her down when she says she hopes to see you again sometime. 

It’s cooler outside now, but the warmth in Eddie’s car and his gentle singing along to the radio rocks you into a light doze as he drives the few blocks to the address you gave him. It kills him to wake you once he’s parked outside. 

The small frown lines on your forehead tell him you’re still in some pain after the tumble you took. The ache in his knuckles felt like nothing in comparison to the twisting anger in his gut when he saw that prick’s foot shove out into your path and you watched as you fell in slow motion.

He gives it a minute, tries not to stare like a creep, before reaching over to shake your knee gently. 

“Hey.” He says your name so softly, so gently, and taps his fingers against your knee. 

You startle slightly and realise where you are. “Sorry, Thanks for the ride, Eddie,” you say quietly. “And the fries. And everything.” 

He smiles again, a gentle curve upward of his lips as his fingers rest on your knee. “Any time. We’re like two or three blocks from each other.” 

Neither of you wants to burst the already waning bubble you have been in since you left the bar. For a moment, you just look at each other until the air becomes too thick, too heady to breathe easy. You’re not entirely convinced that you didn’t hit your head, that this whole night hasn’t been just some dream of yours. The heat of his hand on your leg tells you it’s real. This is something real. 

And still, you make the first move. Pop the bubble. Too much. Too scary. 

Your seatbelt clicks open and you grab your bag as Eddie does the same, coming to open your door and offering you a hand to get out. 

Neither of you let go of the other’s hand, eking out the last of whatever this was before you have to go your separate ways and think about what it could turn into if you only had the bravery. You’re both standing so close and you watch the shadow of his stupid-long lashes under the street light. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Today. Whatever. At work.” You want to slap yourself for stuttering. 

“Only if you feel up to it. Don’t be a hero, princess.”

“That’s your job, Ed. I’ll see you at work. Thank you, again..”

You squeeze his hand, he squeezes back.

You walk to your door and Eddie rounds the car again to the driver's side. He raises a hand to salute you as you turn to give him one little wave before closing the door. 

“Fuck,” you sigh with your back pressed to the wood of the door.  “Fuck.” Eddie growls as his head drops against the roof of the car. 

You both take a minute. Need a minute before you can move on. 

You drag yourself up the stairs and let yourself in, quiet enough to not wake your flatmate. Eddie waits to see your light come on before starting the car and driving the two blocks to his place. 

After popping some painkillers you crawl into bed. Even your racing mind and pounding heart can’t keep you from falling into the deepest sleep you have had in months. Your dreams echo with Eddie’s happy throaty laugh, the gasp from the bar when he threw the first punch, the sound you made when you saw a fist crash into his pretty face.

You sleep late through the Saturday morning city sounds as they turn to afternoon and float through your cracked open window. You sleep until your flatmate knocks to check you made it home and are still breathing, then doze off again while she makes brunch for you both. 

Over eggs and bacon, toast and fresh fruit, coffee and Advil, you tell her everything from last night and show her your bruises. She runs to CVS to get arnica cream and more painkillers while you strip your bed, shower and do laundry, keep busy to keep the recurring thoughts of Eddie from your head. 

While you are folding clean clothes from earlier in the week back into your drawers, you come across a guitar pick Eddie had left on the bar one time before your shift started; once lost from his pocket, found again amongst the collection of shirts and shorts and jeans you wore to work. You had meant to give it back, then he had called you a brat for something stupid. Maybe he had burped too loud in your direction, and so you didn’t bother. As you run your thumb over the smooth curve of it, you think maybe he’s been at the back of your mind for a longer time than you even realised.

You’re sore all over but you call Michelle and let her know you will be in for your shift. You don’t tell her that you stayed out extra late with Eddie talking about stupid shit and laughing until your face hurt - you're not sure you could handle her sweet smugness over the phone. 

After a long bath to soak your muscles and a huge plate of pasta for dinner, you get ready for work. Denim shorts, a tight black t-shirt tucked in, and your trusty Dr Martens (despite the heat). You add some jewellery, spritz your perfume, and fix your hair up off the back of your neck to keep cool. You swipe some Raisin Rage on your lips before wiping it off in favour of a slick of cherry flavour Chapstick. At the last minute, the lipstick makes its way into your bag - just in case. 

It’s just after six when you step back into Jackie’s to help cut wedges of lime and lemon for drinks, make sure the barrels and kegs are hooked up properly, the mixers ready to go. It’s almost time to open up and you haven’t seen (or heard) Eddie yet. You chase your disappointment with a quick smoke break with one of the summer hires before Frank pulls you aside, making sure you’re okay after last night (and that you’re not thinking of suing the bar or anything).

“My wages wouldn’t cover a lawyer, Frank. Even with the tips,” you smirk before stepping from his office out into the hall, running straight into black denim and spicy cologne. 

“Woah, easy there.” Eddie’s hands steady you, two wide palms on your arms that squeeze gently when you look up into his smiling face. “You’re a fuckin’ liability, honey.”

Your cheeks feel hot but you shove his chest gently. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. It was so peaceful and quiet, what a shame.” 

Back to normal. Except Eddie’s hands are still on your arms, his thumb circling on the round of your shoulder. “Feelin’ okay?” he checks, speaking quietly just for you. 

You nod and lift your hand, taking his chin between your finger and thumb, feeling brave alongside the little intake of breath Eddie just about hides. “No bruises. Good.” 

There’s a beat where you and Eddie aren’t quite sure what you mean, what to say next. You’re glad that Frank calls for Eddie from his office, wanting to have the same chat with him as he had with you. It gives you both a good excuse to let go of each other, figure out what the fuck that was before your shift starts.

He squeezes your shoulders and gives you a little smile before letting you go. “Be good. Don’t get in trouble.” 

“I’ll try, hot shot,” you say quietly, giving him a wink before going to join Michelle and the other bartenders for a quick pre-open meeting - but not before you dip into your locker to pat a layer of lipstick on. 

The crowd begins to trickle in, slow and steady until it’s packed full and the music blares just loud enough. They’re a fun crowd tonight, and everyone is in good spirits now that it’s not quite so oppressively hot outside. You don’t have time to think about much else in between chatting to customers and mixing drinks; shaking cocktails is a bit more laborious when your body aches but you don’t complain. 

It’s almost eleven before you take your break. You take another Advil before slipping past the Staff Only door. The air is tinged with smoke as Eddie leans against the brick, waiting. 

His face lights up when he sees you and the two glasses you’re carrying. “Double fisting?” he asks, taking another drag. 

“One for you, one for me. Mines the water.” You extend out the dark fizzing highball glass to him, which he eyes suspiciously. He passes you the nearly burnt-out smoke as a trade-off. 

“What’s this?” he asks, “The witch's potion? I knew you’d take me out by poisoning me.”

You prop yourself on your stool and sip your ice water, smirking into your glass. “It’s a Roman Coke.” 

Eddie’s laugh rings through the alley and he holds up the glass. “You fuckin’... Wow. What an honour.” His free hand covers his heart, silver rings glinting in the light. It would be easy to think he’s being condescending or playing around, it’s what you do. But Eddie is genuinely a little bit touched and a whole lot smitten. He can feel his heart beating faster under his palm. 

You pass him a paper-wrapped straw before watching as he takes a curious sip of your special mix. You take a drag of his cigarette and watch his eyes blow wide as he computes the flavours. 

“D’you hate it?” you ask carefully.

“What is in this? It’s insane! I really like it,” Eddie says, grinning. 

His smile makes your tummy flutter. 

“It’s rum - but like, a coffee-infused rum - and Coca-Cola, with Sambuca,” you list off the ingredients that had been turning over in your head all evening. 

Eddie nods as he takes another sip, letting the flavours wash over his tongue. “Mm, I like it. You’re a real little alchemist, huh? Get it on the menu.”

You laugh and pass him back his smoke. “Nah. That’s an Eddie special. Just to say thanks..” 

Eddie looks at you, watching your teeth sink into your stained-dark lip as you wait for him to respond. He’s a shade softer than the usual tough-but-fun guy who works the door, softer than when you’re usually tearing strips off of each other for fun on your breaks. 

“Careful,” he says, voice quiet. He looks almost bashful. 

You frown a little. Your gut twists uncomfortably. Had you read it all wrong? 

“I don’t know what to do with myself when pretty girls are sweet to me,” he says, sipping his drink pointedly. 

The knot in your stomach swoops. He thinks you’re pretty. Eddie thinks you’re pretty. Eddie who flirts with dolled-up girls all night while he’s checking IDs.

You look back at him, see how the light and shadows play on the slope of his nose and those long lashes. “You have plenty of practice, Ed,” you say, so quiet. “You always know what to say.”

He smiles just a little and shakes his head. “Not with you. S’why I say stupid shit. Anyway, no one’s as pretty or sweet as you,” he says. “Even when you’re mean. Especially when you’re mean - so fuckin’ pretty then.”

Your laugh is almost involuntary, cheeks feeling warm. “That was smooth, Eddie,” you say, teasing him again; that was comfortable, less scary. 

“It was? Oh good. I’m fighting for my life here.” He laughs and leans against the wall beside you. 

He’s taller than you as you sit on your stool, tuning your body sideways to look up at him. “Putting the moves on me, Munson?” 

“Is it working?” Eddie raises his brows, pushing them up under his choppy fringe. There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, hopeful and yet apprehensive. 

“Yeah, I think it might be,” you whisper, biting your lip again. He wants to bite it for you, soothe the pinch of his sharp teeth with his silver tongue. 

You reach a hand out, sliding your fingertips up over the back of his hand and wrist until they slip under the cuff of his sleeve. You bring his hand down onto your thigh, warm and bare in the summer evening heat. 

You’re feeling brave. Eddie is too. 

He leaves his drink on the sill next to your water and steps closer, his hand huge on your legs as he feels the smoothness of your skin and the frayed hem of your denim shorts. Eddie crowds closer, smelling the sweetness of your perfume as his leg slots between your knees. His eyes flick from looking at your lips to searching your gaze for any hesitation or hint that you’re just fucking with him. He finds none and feels braver than ever. 

He dips down, brushing his nose against your cheek and hears your intake of breath, that little gasp he wants to swallow and consume. His lips press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, begging sweetly without a word. 

You turn your head just a fraction to close the minute gap, bringing your lips together. With your hand on his neck, you feel his pulse race in time with your own beneath the stroke of your thumb, sliding down the strong tendon to where it meets his shoulder. 

Eddie’s lips press and slot with yours, plush and gentle and tasting sweet like Coca-Cola. He kisses you slowly, savouring the feeling of your lips on his. You pull him as close as you can, your warm breaths mingling as he sneaks a look to make sure you’re real. 

He is gentle behind the bawdy jokes and leather and silver rings. He’s softer than anyone can see. But you can feel that sweet softness in the way he cups your face before kissing you again. Eddie strokes his tongue against your lower lip to ask for permission he doesn’t need. It makes you shiver as that smooth-talking tongue slides with yours, making you gasp. 

Before it can build pressure and turn any steamier, he slows it back down and kisses you in slow pecks again before leaning his forehead against yours. He can’t stop himself from smiling and doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not elated when he feels your shy smile too. 

Behind that smile, you’re aching for more. You want to run your fingers up through his curls and tug, be kissed breathless by him. You want a hundred more soft kisses, feel his smile on your mouth. You want to feel him everywhere. 

“You okay?” he whispers, and can’t resist pushing another kiss against your cheek before moving back to look at you again. 

“More than okay.” You bring your thumb to swipe the lipstick transferred over from your lips to his. You want to see every shade you own smeared around his mouth. 

Eddie kisses your thumb, before pretending to nip it to make you laugh. “Are you going to be able to go back to the bar?” 

You shake your head, smiling before sighing over-dramatically and fixing a pout on your face. It drives him mad in the best way. “Mm, maybe give me one more for luck?” you whisper. 

He puts you out of your misery with one more long lingering kiss. “I’m not done kissing you. At all.” Another peck, because he cannot simply stop himself. “I’ll wait for you after work.” 

Your smile is too big to hide, rendered speechless by his confession. So you nod, giving his lower lip one last swipe to remove the evidence before patting his cheek. 

Eddie reluctantly backs off for his own good. He had thought about pressing you against the bricks and kissing you stupid too many times to be decent. He still will - it’s at the top of his bucket list - but just not now.

He grabs his drink, downs it, and gives you a wink. “Don’t go sharing that recipe, okay? That’s for me only, sugar.” 

“Cross my heart,” you tease, sitting on your hands so you don’t drag him back against you. You think he might just be okay with it if you did. 

“Later…” As if he can read your mind, he backs away with absolute mischief in his eyes. 

“Later.” You wiggle your fingers at him and laugh when he almost walks ass-first into the stacked crates of empty bottles. He swears at them and flips them off before throwing one last wink your way. 

Once you’re sure Eddie has turned the corner of the building you cover your face with your hands and smile into them, murmuring ‘What the fuck, what the fuck’ as your cheeks heat up your palms. 

When you have just about gathered yourself, you head back inside and fix your smudged lipstick. You tap Michelle’s hip when you get back, signalling for her to go take her break. 

She looks you over, suspicious of where exactly that coy little smile came from. As she throws one last look over her shoulder, she sees Eddie at the open door, looking just as dreamy and pleased with himself.  

The rest of your shift passes without incident, which is a miracle because all you have been thinking of is Eddie Eddie Eddie. Eddie’s lips, Eddie’s hands. Eddie’s strong inked arms and his sturdy thighs. His lips (again). 

You caught each other’s eye a few times during the night, and it made you feel hot all over. Especially when he was being a total gentleman to some pretty girls, telling them to get home safe. You had felt his dark–chocolate stare on you as you laughed with customers, and shook up cocktails while he watched the strength of your arms and the subtle bounce of your breasts. Knowing Eddie was watching, thinking about how he might kiss you again later, made you slick with desire and excitement. 

You ring the bell for last call at 2 a.m. as your feet burn, and arms ache. There’s a flurry of orders while Jeff and Eddie close the doors and stand inside shooting the shit together, bidding customers good night as they leave in pairs and groups. By three it’s kicking out time and the few reluctant stragglers take recommendations for pizza joints and all-night diners to soak up the alcohol. While the bouncers do one last sweep of the place, you work through your checklist with a singular motivator; kissing Eddie Munson. 

With anticipation buzzing in your chest, you wipe spills behind the bar, refrigerate the mixers and hand-wash the muddlers and stirrers from the cocktails. The younger guys fill the dishwasher with glasses and barware. You thank your stars that it’s not your night on bathroom duty, refilling the straws instead and making a note for Frank of what’s running low before he does his full inventory and stocktake. It’s a well-oiled machine and your duties are finished in record time... 

Eddie made himself useful, staying out of your way (but watching closely, in absolute awe of you) in favour of picking up a broom and keeping the music going to keep morale up. He leans on the clean bar, chin on his hand as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips. “Wanna get out of here?” he asks, tilting his head toward the back door. 

You nod, “Gimme two.” You restrain yourself from running to your locker (a quick walk is sufficient and unsuspicious). You fix your hair, blot your shiny face and spray deodorant and perfume again before opting for cherry flavour Chapstick. Extra lipstick this late? Far too eager. 

After a quick round of goodbyes, you notice Eddie and Michelle have both already gone and you rush around to meet him by the door. One taste and you are hooked, needing another kiss like your next breath. When you can’t see him, it’s like your lungs shrink. There’s no lingering scent of his cologne or swirling smoke, no glowing cherry or loud laugh in the back alley… 

Breathe. In, out. Calm the anxious flutters. Is he already at his car? 

Just as you’re about to round the building, the back door opens and an almost frantic-eyed Eddie nearly catches you with the door... “Hi,” he breathes. Relief. A sigh you both share before the smile, the relief. 

“Shit, did I get you?” He puts his hands on your shoulders and squeezes when you shake your head. His hands skate down your arms to squeeze your hands. “Sorry, got distracted inside. Can I... Can I drive you home?” 

Your nod is far too eager and you squeeze back, your rings tapping against Eddie’s. You drop each other’s hands but stay close to each other. This is new and unnamed and you don’t want the work crowd throwing questions at you before you have even figured it out yourself. 

Your hands and arms bump as you round the building together and for once neither of you know what to say. When you look up, Eddie is already sneaking a glance at you; he smiles when you catch him and you both dissolve into laughter. 

“What the fuck, you’re literally never this quiet,” you tease, elbowing him gently. “Say something.” 

Eddie takes your hand again, swinging his arm with yours. “You looked hot tonight. Like, hotter than usual.” Eddie licks his lower lip and it makes your stomach flip. 

“You think so? It must be the drink I made you. Pretty strong…” 

“Maybe. Maybe it’s ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you kiss.” He’s so smooth and it makes you feel warm all over. 

Close to his car now, you slow your stroll and lean against the passenger side. “Yeah? Maybe you should kiss me some more then, seeing as you can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna.” He grins and crowds you against the shiny black metal, bracing one hand on the roof as the other loops around your middle to press your body close. 

It’s like stars bursting behind your eyes when you feel Eddie��s lips on yours again. This kiss is eager and almost needy after hours of trying and failing to not eye-fuck each other. The hand lying low on your back slips lower and Eddie uses the leverage to step his thigh between yours with a delicious press of pressure. When you gasp he takes the opportunity to dominate the kiss a little more, licks his tongue against yours in a dirty slide.

You haven’t been kissed like this in a long time, all tongue and pulling soft gasps from each other. It has been even longer since you have been heckled while you’re kissing someone; Michelle breaks that streak as she wolf-whistles at you from across the street as she walks to her own car. 

“Get a room!” You don’t see her grin and salute as you laugh into Eddie’s chest, hugging your arms around him beneath his jacket. He kisses your forehead and holds you after flipping Michelle off with a rosy-cheeked smirk.

“She made me late, by the way. Gave me the talk in the office.” 

You rest your chin on his chest, pulling your eyebrows together. “The birds and the bees? Where do babies come from?” You laugh when he pokes your ribs and holds your squirming body closer still.

“Ha ha, jokes on you. That’s next week.” 

You muffle your laugh against his black t-shirt. 

“No, just that I better treat you good and not fuck around. Don’t want work to be awkward, blah blah.” Eddie squeezes your hips. “She also said ‘It’s about damn time’.”

You nod slowly, remembering her quips over the last few months about how you two should just shut up and get over yourselves, bang it out or something. It seemed like it was obvious to everyone but you and Eddie just what was going on behind your little frenemy routine. 

“Well then…” you say quietly. 

“Well then indeed…” Eddie echoes. 

There’s a lot for you to figure out. You can’t just kiss your co-worker and expect everything to stay the same, but inside you think that maybe you don’t want that and Eddie doesn’t either. That’s something you both need to figure out, but right now you just might die if you don’t kiss him again soon. 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can I come to your place?” you ask quietly. 

Eddie nods, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. I’d like that a lot. Are you sure you want to? We don’t have to...”

You rock up on your toes to kiss him again. “I want to. Let’s just... See where it goes?”

A little breathless, Eddie nods and roots for his car keys to unlock the door. He pecks your lips again before you both get into the car. This time he keeps his hand on your knee while he drives through the dark streets, only moving it to change gears. You keep it there, smoothing over the rings he wears with your fingers. 

You recognise Eddie’s street - there’s the bagel place you go to, the camera store where you get film developed. You can’t believe he’s been this near all along. 

He swings the car into a little parking garage under the building and takes the spot reserved for apartment 8. You twist in your seat to face him and see he looks a little lost in thought. “I can go home if you prefer?” you say. 

“No no. Please, don’t. I’m just.. thinkin’ about how messy my room might be.” He twists one of his rings and you cover his hand again to stop the anxious little movement you recognised from your own fidgeting.

“I don’t mind. Being nocturnal can be pretty shitty for keeping your place clean,” you say. 

Eddie nods, shoulders deflating now that he’s less worried you’re going to think he’s a total animal.

You pull his hand back over to your lap, fingers intertwined. “Anyway, I’m not here to snoop at your stuff, Eddie.” You shrug a little, hiding your smile as he thumps his head against the seat. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, I know it.” 

“You should be so lucky.” 

Your lips meet again halfway across the centre console, smiling mouths and ringed fingers grasping at each other, wherever you can reach. A rogue elbow hits the horn, making both of you jump - Eddie yelps - then dissolve into a fit of giggles which Eddie gladly smothers with one more kiss. 

“Lemme get your door, princess,” he says, lips brushing your chin and cheek one more time before freeing you from his hold to hop out and round the bonnet. You could get used to this… 

There are more kisses in the small shaky elevator, crowded to the mirrored wall as Eddie’s lips get acquainted with your jaw and neck, finding that spot below your ear that makes you moan his name quietly, tug him closer by his belt loops. 

You drive him crazy in the best way, he makes you feel wanted - perhaps craved is more apt - as his hands run over the flare of your hips and dip to your behind.

The elevator stops, dings, and you drag Eddie’s mouth to your own again to taste his tongue before he takes your hand and does his best not to drag you to the door marked with a brassy 8. 

“Shit,” he mutters, fighting with his keys to find the right one as you slip a hand up the side of his t-shirt, feeling the trail of hair below his navel to scratch through. 

“You’re a demon. An actual devil woman,” he hisses, resting his forehead against the door as he lets you distract him for a second. Before you can tease him anymore, Eddie turns and takes your face gently in one hand. “You actually want to come in or am I going to need to put you over my shoulder and bring you back to the car?” 

His eyes are burning with want, lips pink and puffy from your kisses. He watches your pupils blow wide and sees the gulp in your throat. 

“You gonna behave?” 

All you can do is nod, brain static with want, accept a kiss on the pout he’s placed on your lips, and try not to swoon or combust on the spot while he wins his battle with lock and key. 

Eddie flicks the light on inside and throws his keys in a saucer sitting on a little table inside the door. There’s a short hallway with a fairly full junk closet before you step into the apartment proper. You told him you weren’t here to snoop, but the urge to look around and soak in all you can about Eddie Munson is too good to pass. 

A typical boy's apartment really - an open plan kitchen/living room with a second-hand sofa and mismatched chair, a coffee table cluttered with an empty mug and a full ashtray, a fresh pack of cigarettes and a forgotten Coke can. There are some amps stacked in a corner, framed posters yet to be hung as they prop against the wall. It’s kind of exactly what you expected. 

Eddie twists a piece of hair around his finger, watching you look around. “Can I get you a water…?” he suggests, “Hungry?” 

“Mind if I use your phone? I want to leave a message on my voicemail so my flatmate doesn’t think I died or got in another bar fight.” Sense prevails over your desire to get your fingers back under his shirt, find out what other ink he has hidden beneath. 

“Sure, good idea.” Eddie points to the phone on the wall by the little breakfast bar. You notice a Garfield mug which makes you smile a little. “Back in a sec.”

While you’re leaving a message on your answer phone, Eddie stuffs dirty and clean laundry into some approximation of where they should be. He fixes the blanket and duvet on his bed - thankfully freshly changed - and strums his Sweetheart before hearing you hang up the phone. He takes a peek in the mirror after removing his jacket, shakes out his curls and gives his arms a quick flex before telling himself he’s an idiot - being friends with Steve Harrington has definitely altered his brain chemistry in some sort of way. 

Meanwhile, you have already given your own armpit a sniff and fixed your hair in the reflection of Eddie’s microwave before you hear his boots on the wood floor again. 

“Did you get prettier while I was..?” he looks between you and his left-ajar door glowing with the bedside lamp he had left on. 

You roll your eyes at him before following him to sit on the sofa, leaving your bag and jacket on the well-worn cushion of the armchair next to it. He flicks some music on low and relaxes back into the cushions, watching you decide where to put yourself. 

“Any time you want to go, just say. I’ll drive you home,” he says quietly. You can feel the warmth of his arm where it stretches across the back of the sofa.

Scooting closer, you turn your body to face him a little more. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Ed. Promise.”

He nods and welcomes you back under his arm, pressing his lips to your head while one big hand squeezes the top of your arm. “You smoke?” he asks, nodding to a little box like the lockbox you have for petty cash at work. When he flicks it open, you see some pre-rolled joints, papers and a bag of green. 

“Oh shit, you’ve been holding out on me, Munson,” you tease, poking his ribs before he sits back next to you with a joint and his Bic lighter. 

Eddie flashes his brows upward as he sticks it between his lips to light up. “Something something… Not mixing business and pleasure?” he says, muffled by the joint. He takes a hit before offering it to you, fingers brushing as you raise your brows in turn. 

“Oh yeah? I think we’re doing plenty of that tonight.” You take a drag with a smiling mouth as Eddie’s eyes darken and flash mischief again. 

“Yeah, think so. Been thinking about it a lot longer than I’ll ever admit though,” he says, watching how your breath catches and you cough a little. He tuts playfully, “Am I going to need to show you how, or are you pretending so I’ll shotgun you?” 

You fan your hand in front of your face to give yourself some air before flipping him off. “Be nice, s’been a while.” You tap your fingers against his knee. “Wait, go back. How long have you been pining over me?” You’re more careful when you take your next hit, raising your brows expectantly at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes as he takes the joint back; after another hit, he taps the ash off the end. “Not your business.”

“Absolutely my business. Go on. Was it when I wore that little dress to the Christmas party? Oh no, I bet it was when I spilt that pitcher of beer on my stupid white shirt… Fuck, I forgot that.” 

Eddie remembers both vividly (especially the little dress) but no, it was way before either of those incidents. “You going to keep annoying me ‘til I tell you?” 

“Yep.” You grin and watch him take a long slow hit. His lips wrap around the end and his cheeks hollow, showing off those sharp cheekbones. “Tell me,” you sing. 

He holds the smoke in before sighing it out with his head back against the sofa to look at the ceiling. His head turns to look at you instead. “Maybe like… the first shift we worked together? Maybe the second, either way, you were shaking up spicy margaritas or somethin’, had this little smirk on your face. Then later you asked me for a cigarette and the rest is history…” 

Your cheeks heat at his confession and Eddie’s do the same. He’s embarrassed and you feel like an idiot for letting your hang-ups get in the way of really seeing Eddie and giving him a chance. 

“Jesus, Ed.” You squeeze his arm, just below the flurry of bats tattooed there. 

His arm sizzles where you touch him - well, that’s how it feels to Eddie anyway. “We got a good thing going though, I mean I really do enjoy it. Making you huff at me and roll your eyes. Fuck.” His smile is cheeky, a little dirty as he licks his lower lip. 

You laugh together and let him bring the joint to your mouth. Your eyes slip closed as you inhale before opening again to see Eddie watching you. It reignites the spark low in your gut as you begin to feel nice and fuzzy around the edges. 

Eddie takes one last hit before saving the rest, stubbing the joint in the ashtray on the arm of the sofa. His eyes don’t stray from yours as you crawl into his lap. 

You twist one of his curls around your fingers; his hair is soft and the curls springy. “Guess it was like…perverse flirting or really long foreplay?”

“Mm, hot.” He squeezes your thigh. “I’m good with both of those. That is if you let me take you out. A real date.”

You pretend to consider it, though you are already in his lap, in his home, ready to give him anything he asks for. “Yeah, I’d like that. Last night was real nice, just talking with you. Just… get me some flowers instead of punching a guy next time?” 

He copies your faux-consideration and nods, “Deal.”

Said deal is sealed with a kiss; this one is sweet and warm, soft even. You both know you are skipping ahead of your date, but as you smile against each other’s mouths, Eddie thinks he might just keep you in his lap forever if you let him. 

Your lips press and slide, tongues tangle and tease as the intensity simmers to a boil again. His hands roam up your thighs and around to grasp two handfuls of you, pulling you close as you press yourself against him. You can feel the hot breaths through his nose against your cheek, and Eddie wants to groan at the feeling of your breasts pushed up against him. Your bravery builds in tandem with how much you want and need him and you start up a slow roll of your hips. 

Eddie swears against your mouth, “Shit, you feel good.” He squeezes his hands and pushes his own hips up, letting you feel how thick and hard he is for you. 

Your whimper makes him crazy-mad with lust, Eddie’s lips feeling the vibration as he kisses your throat and finds that spot on your neck again. He wants to mark it, hear what noise that would pull from your pretty, kiss-bitten mouth. From the corner of his eye, he sees the flutter of your lashes, the way your mouth drops open. He thinks you are so pretty and it makes the ache in his chest pulse like a bruise. 

You direct him back to your lips with a gentle tug, opening your eyes before you press a kiss to his lower lip before leaning back enough to untuck and pull off your t-shirt. Eddie’s jaw twitches as he feasts his eyes on the black lace cups you fill out so perfectly, the glint of your necklace beneath the hollow of your throat. 

He moves both hands back to your waist where the denim cuts in, fingertips skating the bare skin above. “Can I?” he asks, looking up to your eyes. 

Instead of answering, you cover both hands with your much smaller ones, guiding them upward until you feel the warmth of his hands cover and cup the weight. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Eddie whispers, looking at your face again as his thumbs seek and stroke the pebbled nipples beneath. 

Eddie had never been subtle when he checked you out at work; he made playful and bawdy comments his cover story to get away with letting his eyes linger a little too long on your chest. You let him away with it every time, knowing you would get him riled up another way later that shift or on the next one. 

When you look down, the sight and feel of his guitar-scarred hands on your chest make you bite your lip hard. Your palms skate over the gooseflesh of Eddie’s arms, over the bulk of his biceps and shoulders as he learns how to make you keen for him with just his hands on your breasts. You pull him in for another filthy kiss and blindly glide your fingers down his chest to the top of his trousers. You have already felt how hard he is under the roll and grind of your hips, but it’s not enough. Eddie deserves to be touched and tasted after all this time, pining over you. Not because you pity him, you want to make up for lost time. 

His hips press upward, seeking out your touch; you adjust yourself to straddle one of his thighs and flip the hem of his t-shirt up to get at the button and zip. Your eyes are fixed on the hard line of him pushing up against the fabric; your fingers brush over it before undoing the fastenings, making his breath catch in his throat. 

“I want you so bad,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss your jaw again. That makes you pulse right between your legs; you relish the firmness of his thigh pressing against you there as he kisses his way back to your lips. You pull away only to push the black work pants and tartan cotton boxers down enough to get at him, to see him. 

Eddie watches your eyes flash when you see the thick length of him, brushing your fingertips up and down to watch it kick with arousal. You nuzzle against his cheek as you take him in your hand, telling him how big and pretty his dick is before beginning to stroke him. In your mind, you’re thinking about how he will feel inside you and in your mouth, but you try to focus on kissing his neck and learning how he likes to be touched. He’s rock hard and weeping at the tip, it makes your mouth water.

“You think about me when you do this for yourself?” you ask, pausing to lick your hand before grasping him again. The tinge of salt on your tongue makes you want more. 

Eddie nods, eyebrows pinching together. “Fuck, I do. Tried not to, but I can’t help it.” 

That makes you feel hot all over and you rock yourself against his thigh to relieve the pulsing between your legs. “M’here now, don’t need to pretend anymore, Eddie.” Your lips brush his jaw and the way he moans, the way he pulses with arousal in your hand, it makes you giggle. 

“You’re literally gonna kill me,” he groans and rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut. 

“I’m not. Promise. Just want you to feel good,” you say, and kiss him again when your hand picks up the pace. 

Eddie’s hips rock upward into your fist. His hand stills your arm and he has to take a few breaths before looking at you - his chocolate-button eyes are consumed by dilated pupils. “This’ll be over real fast if you keep that up, baby. You’ll never let me live that down.”

His head dips to kiss across the tops of your breasts before running his nose up along your throat. His head tilts toward his room. “Can we? Been thinking about you in my bed.” 

You nod, keep cool even though the butterflies in your stomach are back with a flurry of vengeance. Eddie grins, which sets you off too, and you tuck him back into his boxers before moving to let him stand. 

He offers you a hand and twirls you once. “Hold on. Let me just..” 

Eddie pauses, looks you up and down and you know he’s up to no good. Before you can figure him out he has you over his shoulder with a surprising show of strength. You squeal-laugh, slapping your hand on the back of his thigh. “EDDIE!” 

His laugh is throaty and rough - like an honest-to-god gremlin - and he just about manages to keep his pants up as he carries you to his room. “You seemed to like the idea of that earlier, what you complainin’ about, baby?” 

You can only laugh in response until you’re deposited onto his bed with more care and gentleness than anticipated. You lay back to catch your breath, cheeks warm and aching as you grin up at Eddie. You’re certainly not unimpressed by his ability to fireman-lift and carry you. He kneels to untie your boot-laces, then his own. You sit up and pop the button on your shorts before Eddie takes over, removing them along with your shoes to leave you in your only slightly mismatched underwear and bra - they’re both black, and Eddie doesn’t notice or care. All he sees is you, in his bed.

His t-shirt and pants are left in a heap with your clothes and in a moment he is with you, laying you back to kiss you everywhere. His hands and lips map your body, kissing freckles and stretchmarks, nuzzling the red mark your bra left around your middle when it’s removed and lost to the floor. He notes the ticklish spots on your ribs, saves them for later, and lavishes kisses on your bare breasts. 

As Eddie lays his body between your spread legs, you wish you had longer to see the new ink revealed to you but take the chance to stroke his hair like you have been wanting to. He practically purrs and chases the relaxing motion, leaning against your hand when he breaks his trail of kisses to the band of your underwear. The light is too dim to see how soaked they are, a darker shade of black between your legs caused by him, but Eddie knows it’s there and teases his fingers over the damp heat. He smiles when your hips jump up at the friction. 

His chin rests on your hip bone while he looks up. “This okay?” he checks, dipping his fingertips up past the elastic around the top of your thigh. He goes no further until you nod, breathe out ‘yes, please’.

You get the feeling that if Eddie was still wearing pants, your undies would go right in his back pocket. The thought of that alone makes you throb as Eddie looks at the feast in front of his eyes. 

“Oh she’s pretty,” he murmurs, biting his lip. “And so wet f’me…” 

You gasp when he finally touches you, stroking his finger down the seam of you. He swears and shifts his hips against the bed when he feels your wetness and watches his finger come away shiny. 

He pushes one kiss below your belly button before getting comfy, manoeuvring one leg over his shoulder with his arm around for good measure. His curls tickle against your leg but all you can focus on is how his tongue strokes and licks, how his lips suck and press. 

His name bounces off the poster-clad walls, your voice gaspy and ragged when his tongue circles your clit before pushing its way inside you to seek out your soak. 

“So sweet, I knew you would be.” His voice is a murmur against your cunt, there and gone again as he seals his lips around your clit. 

“Fuhhh- Eddie.” 

One hand balled in the duvet, the other a crown atop his dark curls as you shift your hips and help him find the angle that is just right. He is rewarded with a scalp-burning tug and a guttural moan you can’t even begin to be embarrassed by as he feasts on you like a starved man. 

His fingers squish your doughy thigh before he slows to a pause - it’s brief and yet you whine in complaint. You feel his breathy laugh against your folds, his murmured ‘easy, baby’. Eddie stopped only to remove the rings on his right hand so that he could push one, then two, deep inside seeking out your g-spot before you can comprehend that his rings are on your fingers for safekeeping. 

His eyes are fixed on you; your heaving chest and breasts, the blissed-out expression on your face. He knows when he has found it, feeling you gush in time with a wet, wobbly moan of his name and the pained-by-pleasure look that graces your pretty face. 

“That’s it, huh? Good girl,” he murmurs. He earns another loud moan as you arch your back to chase absolute bliss. 

Eddie’s hips roll against the mattress - if you had the brain capacity to notice you would surely die on the spot. Your heart already feels like it is about to leap from your chest, blood pounding in your ears as he keeps up the pace and pressure. He can hear and feel how close you are as your voice gets higher, begging brokenly ‘yes, yes! Eddieeee!’ when you free fall over the edge. 

Your body goes tense and then boneless as he works you through it, not letting up until you nudge his head with your thigh. “Too mm-much,” you slur, hips twitching. Eddie presses gentle kisses and murmurs words of praise against your sensitive sex; he leans into how you stroke his head while you come back to the land of the living. 

“Y’okay?” he asks, smiling up at you with shiny lips. He eases his fingers out, marvels at just how soaked they are in the golden glow of the bedside light before kneeling up and licking them clean. “Knew you’d be sweet, sugar.” He winks and you curl in on yourself as you shake with laughter. 

“You’re a menace, Munson. Remind me how you've been single all this time when you can do that?”

You take his hand, pulling him down so he is lying on top of you. He’s hard against your hip, but isn’t pushy with getting you to do something about it as he lies with you, holding you as you bask in the afterglow. 

“Guess I had this really big weird crush on a pretty girl, got me in a dry spell,” he teased. He smacks a smooch to your cheek and makes a pleased little noise when you pull him in for a proper kiss, taking your cheek in his ring-less hand. 

You let yourself feel a little smug as you drag your fingertips up his back, swirling and stroking until they brush the band of his boxers. “Do you have condoms?” you whisper against his lips, hoping that the dry spell won't ruin your plans.

Eddie nods and peels himself away to kneel up and reach over to his messy bedside table, digging an almost full box from the top drawer. He squints at the date and takes one from the packet with a pleased grin, “We’re in luck.”

You reach out to palm him through the straining cotton, feeling the growing damp spot and smiling up at him as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip. You sit up, pushing his boxers down with both hands. They join the rest of the forgotten clothes on the floor while you get your hands back on Eddie’s body. You see more ink usually hidden beneath his clothes; you want to look at each tattoo, study it and ask him what it means, listen to him tell you more stories and secrets. But there’s plenty of time for that. 

Eddie smiles against your mouth when you wrap your fingers around him again, chancing a glance to watch your hand - your hand heavy with his rings - stroking him. His hips jerk almost of their own volition; his brain has most certainly gone static. “Jesus, fuck,” he murmurs. 

You catch on a moment later and giggle against his shoulder. “That got you going, huh? Me wearing your rings…”

“You get me going. That’s just extra hot.” His voice catches when you squeeze him again, and he calls you a devil woman one more time. You’re getting used to it, kinda like it. 

The foil packet crinkles under Eddie’s knee. You push his chest gently, sending him to sit up against the headboard so you can make his lap your throne again. Without hesitation, you tear the foil and roll the latex down over the diamond-hard length that’s weeping for you to sit on it. He steadies your hips as you hold the base of him, sinking down through the stretch and pinch eased only by how soaked you still are. 

It’s intense, the burn and the closeness. Eddie’s forehead against yours as you watch him watching you take him inside. The lingering tendrils of the weed you smoked together make it all so deliciously fuzzy and warm. Neither of you makes a move, settling into the tight heat and fullness of Eddie inside you. 

His fingers stroke your hips while yours twirl the ends of his hair, touch his silver chain and brush up his neck so that you can cup his jaw and kiss him again. You hold on to each other tighter as you begin to raise and roll your hips, savouring the stretch until your body tells you to move faster, harder. 

“Look how pretty you are,” Eddie murmurs, taking in the bounce of your breasts and the way your jaw hangs open as you move in his lap. “Yeah, that’s my girl. Are you my girl, baby?” 

You whimper, holding him tighter and closer as you nod. “I’m yours, Eddie. All yours.” Your voice wobbles but not because you’re unsure, you’re just feeling so good, so full. 

Eddie groans deep in his throat, squeezing your hips and ass tighter as he helps you to bounce. You pause, focusing on rolling rather than rising to ease the burn in your wobbly thighs; it makes you whimper against his neck. It’s so much but not enough; so good, it’s frustrating.

“Shhh, I got you. You’re just feelin’ too good, huh?” he murmurs, nodding with you when you give a small ‘uh huh’. “Yeah, good girl.”

Your brows crease as you keep rutting your hips. “You feel so big. Fuck, Ed…” 

“You gonna let me do the hard work, hmm? You just lay back and look pretty for me, princess.” His voice is like hot honey, making you drip in his lap. He feels you pulsing, making his hold on your hip tight enough to leave a bruise as he gathers his composure. He’s wanted this so bad for so long, refuses to let himself (and you) down by busting early like a teenager. 

You nod, blissed out as he runs his hands over your warm body. Eddie is careful, so gentle, as he helps you to move up and off of him. He guides you to lay back, comfy on the pillows that smell just like him. You can’t resist nuzzling into them as he makes his way back between your legs. 

“Comfy?” he asks, palming your thigh as you hook your legs over his hips. He watches your eyes, sees that you are a little more with it now, with him. He can’t wait to see you dreamy-eyed and blissed out beneath him. 

You nod and squeeze his hips. “Very comfy.” He sees how your lips pout, asking for a kiss without words.

As if he could say no, refuse you the very thing he himself is craving. 

Eddie leans forward, arms braced on either side of your head and presses his lips to your cheeks, nose and forehead. He laughs quietly when you scowl all mean before you soften at the brushed blessing of his lips against yours.

He reaches down and takes himself in hand, stroking a few times before rubbing the tip against your cunt. He imagines how this would feel without the condom, feels the hot winding pull in his abdomen at the thought before your voice brings him back. He smiles and nudges his nose against yours, mirroring the rub down below.

“Please,” you whisper, lips catching Eddie’s. “Fuck me.”

The eye contact is almost too much, a burning intensity, but you feel hypnotised to keep your eyes on him as he pushes inside. 

You squeeze your lips together, feeling that stretch again, and watch how Eddie’s brows pinch. 

“You feel unreal, baby.”

He rolls his hips and pushes the rest of the way in. Lashes flutter and your jaw drops open. He feels so deep, it’s like he’s all the way in your chest. 

After a moment he begins to thrust slowly, dragging himself halfway out before pushing all the way in again and again and again. Eddie drinks in the little whines and moans that spill from your lips. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he whispers, brushing your hair back. When his hips rock again you feel him press against that spot that makes you see stars and there is no way you can keep quiet. 

“There we go, is that it?” Eddie asks, repeating the motion. Your back arches and he hikes your leg higher, almost folding you in half as his thrusts get harder, faster.

You can feel tears pricking your eyes, feeling almost overwhelmed with pleasure. Through the sting, you see Eddie’s clenched jaw, the meaty cord in his neck straining and the rosy glow on his cheeks. 

“Eddie, m’so close,” you whimper, almost tearful as you squeeze his forearm.  

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it. Fuck.” He huffs through his nose when you flutter around him and he leans over you more, spreading you wider still as he begins to pound his hips into you. He is barely holding on, feeling hot all over as he fucks you, wishes it could last longer but you’re both so tightly wound.

There’s a perfect press and drag against your clit that winds that cord of pleasure inside you tighter and tighter. Your mouths press together; barely a kiss, more a shared moan. One particularly hard thrust brings you to your climax with a broken moan against Eddie’s chin. Your nails press into his rear and pull him in to rut against that spot, fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life as he meets his own peak with a husky throaty groan.

You feel like you're floating, fallen over the edge in each other's arms.

The weight of Eddie on you brings you slowly back to earth, breath huffing against your neck as you stroke up his back and up into his curls. You take a deep breath in; when you exhale it's shaky and wobbly almost like a quiet sob. 

Eddie summons the strength to press up and look at you, seeing your dazed smile and warm wet cheeks. “Hey,” he wipes the tears gently, “Oh shit. Did I hurt you?” he asks, panic spiking the glowy daze. 

You shake your head, almost giggling when you speak. “No, no. Fuckin’... amazing.” You pull Eddie back down and wrap yourself around him, holding each other as you come back to earth. A few more tears escape and Eddie wipes them away with such reverence. You stay quiet until you can string a sentence together. “That was incredible.” 

He smiles, cupping your face, and kisses you before carefully rolling you onto your sides to face each other to run your fingers over each other's warm bodies and share more kisses. Once he is sure you’re actually okay, he excuses himself to throw the condom away and returns with water and a damp flannel. He spends a moment cleaning you up as you gulp the water down, then finishes the rest and fills it again before closing his bedroom door. 

“You want a t-shirt?” he asks, pulling on a pair of clean boxers before throwing his hair into a low bun.

Despite the blanket, you feel a little shivery and accept the offer. 

He helps you into a well-loved Dio t-shirt before pulling the duvet over you both. Your legs are tangled together as you lie together, as close as you can. Outside, past the closed curtains, the sun is already starting to peek on the horizon.

You hum tiredly against Eddie’s shoulder when you remember the weighty silver on your hand and tap his hip gently. “Hey, Romeo. Your rings.” Your hand comes up in front of his face, wiggling your fingers. 

Eddie smiles, a lazy curl of his lips, and kisses the tips of your fingers before taking them off for you. He reaches back to drop them on his bedside table.

You want to stay awake, stay in the bubble of bliss, but the pull of exhaustion is too strong. 

“Sleepy?” Eddie brushes a kiss on your forehead and flicks the lamp off when you nod. 

“Eddie? Tonight was amazing,” you whisper against his chest.

He smiles in the dark, squeezes your hip. “Yeah, it was. I’ll make tomorrow amazing too if you’ll let me, but you gotta sleep first. Bet you’re really grumpy when you’re tired.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, hiding your face in the pillow. In the dark, you can just see the outlines of each other, shapes and shadows. “Lemme sleep and you can take me for breakfast. Like a date or somethin’.” 

He hides his grin poorly, you can see his teeth flash even with your eyes almost closed. “Nah, breakfast is part of the package. Lemme plan something for our date.” He gives you one last kiss, “Sleep now, sugar.” 

You feel warm, so happy and safe in his arms as you fall asleep. If Eddie asked, you would never leave his arms, leave his bed. And Eddie? Eddie lingers on the precipice of sleep, ready to drift once he knows you’re sleeping soundly. He kisses your forehead one last time before closing his eyes, both holding each other in an utterly blissful sleep. 

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

[doobea]

✰⋆⁺★ WE KEEP THIS LOVE IN A PHOTOGRAPH ─ CHOSO KAMO

synopsis: you're serious about getting an A for your photography class. so serious that you end up fake dating your best friend. and, well, it gets out of hand.

contents: no curse AU, gn!reader, sfw, fluff, mr ed scares me but his songs are corny bops, friends to lovers + fake dating, choso has been secretly pinning but waits for you to make first move hehe, a satosugu kfc joke thrown in here, i always make my readers a stem major but they're an artsy major here, i feel like choso will always be some sort of chem major in my stories because it just works???, kinda PROOF'D, i finished writing this at 4am... word count: 3.8K (crazy ik) a/n: i love him, i love him, i love him sm *explodes* songs related to this fic: out of my league by fitz and the tantrums + photograph by ed sheeran

The best part about majoring in photography is that you’ve enjoyed every single project you’re given. This year, your professor explained that she wanted all of her students’ projects to always follow a specific theme — happiness, sadness, anger, etc. And, throughout the year, you’ve gotten nothing but A’s on all of them. It’s something you’re proud about, something that you didn’t hesitate to tell your best friend Choso when he had asked about it the first time around. 

However, this straight A streak might soon come to a stop as the end of the semester wraps up. Your professor had just gotten engaged a few weeks ago and today's the first time she’s returning back to classes from her honeymoon, which she hasn’t stopped gloating over. She’s happy and you’re happy for her, you really are, but the themes of the projects for this class usually revolves around what she’s feeling and, unfortunately for you, the last theme just happens to be—

“Love!” your professor writes the word in big pink letters on the chalkboard and you immediately hear half of the class cheering and half of them groaning. Safe to say, you’re part of the other half.

“Oh, c’mon guys,” she frowns before pointing to her diamond engagement ring. “Love is amazing, it’s beautiful, it’s everlasting—”

“Some of us are single, you know?” one student calls out, several others joining in right after. “What if we don’t have a partner?”

It’s a valid point. This project will be a piece of cake for anyone in a relationship. Half of the class will probably submit a folder with selfies with their partners. And, given that your professor is in a particular good mood for this assignment, it’ll be an easy A. You, on the other hand, have nothing to submit because you’re not dating anyone. If somehow your professor suggests taking photos of your crushes, then that’ll be really fucking weird.

“You don’t have to be in a relationship for this project to work,” she explains with a smile. “For example, you could always submit pictures of your crushes.”

Fuck that.

“Kinda borderline stalkerish,” your thoughts slip out quite audibly.

Other students around you quickly agree while the other half of the class is arguing to keep the theme. Your professor opens her mouth to protest but only ends up shutting it again.

“Okay,” she laughs nervously before clapping her hands together in an attempt to calm everyone down. “If anyone would like a modification to this assignment, just send me an email by the end of the day and I’ll make a slight adjustment.” she says seriously. 

That seems to work as some of your classmates are already typing away on their laptops. You’re tempted to join the list, not out of frustration of being single, but rather because you’re not sure if getting an A is possible this time. You’re wondering if you should even bother asking Choso to be your little guinea pig, but that would probably be asking a lot from someone who already has a lot on their plate. Plus, it would be really weird to actually ask your crush to be your pretend boyfriend.

“How was class?”

“Fine.”

Choso cocks a brow as he slides into the dining booth across from you. He has a brightly assorted platter consisting of various vegetables and a fat salmon filet. He’s been lecturing to you about healthy eating habits a week ago after catching his half-brother downing a bunch of fried foods and burgers. What a health nut. Which is why he splits his sides of vegetables and adds some on your sparse plate when he sees you have nothing but a lonely scoop of pasta and fries.

“No, seriously, tell me what’s wrong,” and he gives you that look where you know you can’t make up an excuse out of it. 

You gracefully jab your fork at some of the oven roasted carrots he placed down, chewing and swallowing them in a way that made it seem like they kidnapped your entire family. And, fuck, they taste really good.

“My professor told us about the final project today,” you start, eyes focusing only on your plate and avoiding your best friend at all costs.

“Yeah?” Choso slices a piece of the salmon off and plates it on top of your pasta. “What about it?”

You briefly frown at the action, feeling your cheeks burn up shamelessly because why does he have to be so attentive and perfect?

“The theme is ‘Love’ and… well, I don’t really have anyone.” you cringe, poking at the salmon until it shreds apart. 

Your friend goes silent, making a low humming sound as if deep in thought. After some pauses, Choso speaks up, “What about crushes? Or celebrities?”

Your eyes immediately flick to his face at the word ‘crush’ but you steel yourself before your emotions betray you. You begin coughing into your fist, pretending to be choking on a piece of noodle before downing your glass of water. 

“That’ll be weird, dude. I can’t just take a photo of my crush and I feel like celebrities would just be a shitty cop out.” Sadly, you’re quite the model student in your major, and you’re not going to half-ass a project just because it’ll still give you a passing grade.

“So, what’s your plan?” Choso asks genuinely.

You purse your lips together, shrinking back into your seat, gaze now downcast again. “I’m not sure… I’ve been doing really well in that class and, well, it would suck seeing a C on this assignment after all the hard work I’ve done.” you answer honestly. 

He’s silent again and you can feel his foot tapping against yours underneath the table. Choso doesn’t show emotion easily on his face unless provoked, but you can tell he’s really focused on finding some sort of solution because he’s chewing the insides of his cheeks, brows slightly creased under his bangs, and the tattoo on his nose is slightly scrunched up. You probably think he looks the same when he’s taking his exams and, for some reason, it makes you kinda happy that he’s putting this much effort into this silly dilemma. Though, makes you also feel slightly guilty, too. 

“Hey,” you put up your hands in defeat and laugh. “It’s alright, Cho. Unless you volunteer to be my fake boyfriend and I take cheesy selfies with you, I don’t think you gotta do anything for me.”

“No, I can do that.”

You go into a coughing fit again. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Well,” this time Choso looks slightly flustered, hand rubbing the back of his neck and the other drumming away on the tabletop. “If that gets you an A, then I’ll do it for you. If, you know, you’re okay with that?” When you don’t give him an immediate answer, Choso waves his hands dismissively in the air, shaking his head, “Actually, never mind, it’s a dumb idea.”

No, it’s a genius idea. An idea that you thought only existed in your fantasies. And, now, you can’t stop thinking about actually doing it. “We can do that,” you say quietly, swallowing a heavy lump. “A few sappy photoshoots and then we call it, yeah?”

Choso nods slowly. “Anything for that A, right?”

“Right,” you echo back.

The first photo shoot occurs pretty soon after the proposal. Choso had suggested that a dinner date would be a good start and he just happened to make a quick reservation at Kentucky Fried de Chicken, or KFC for short. He’s heard good reviews from his classmate Suguru prior and texted you its details.

Business casual, ambient lighting, and live jazz music. You’re starting to wonder if he’s taking this more seriously than you are.

The fancy restaurant is way fancier than you originally anticipated. It’s the type of fancy that only the richest of the rich would go to, definitely not where a bunch of college students like yourselves would hang around in. Still, it’s impressive that Choso managed to find a spot last minute. You hope to order just a mini appetizer to split and pray that they don’t charge for a glass of water like some places do.

“Fuck,” your eyes feel like they’re about to jump out when you breeze over the menu. “How do people justify these prices?”

Choso stifles a groan of his own, probably thinking about losing a week’s worth of pay to a side he can’t even pronounce. “Nepo babies,” he answers bitterly.

“Ugh, Suguru probably made Satoru pay for everything…” you mumbled. “Not that he would mind, I guess. He’s practically the definition of old money.”

“Sorry, next time I’ll pick somewhere less… flashy,” Choso frowns, seemingly disappointed in himself.

You feel a wave of guilt hit again. Shit, you didn’t mean to make him feel bad or poor on this pretend date. Hell, you can barely afford student housing but you would probably spend the last of your money in your bank account to treat Choso out. You’re under the delusion that he’s doing that right now. But, if anything, you should probably cover for most of it because it’s your project, not his.

You lightly kick his feet, careful enough to not scuff his only pair of loafers. “No, I’m sorry. This,” you motion to the hanging chandelier above the table and towards the live band across the room. “This is perfect, Choso. I’m gonna be jealous of your future partner.” you say fondly but also exasperated. 

This makes him tense up, and you’re wondering if somehow he does have someone in mind. You’re about to ask, but the waiter swings by with two glasses of lemon water and a side of complementary towels. When the waiter starts asking for your orders and you respond with ‘just the broccolini’, he gives you an eye roll and scribbles the dish down with most likely a complaint added to it. 

“Budget tight, I see.” the staff comments before moving to a busier table of actual business men.

You stick out a tongue once he’s out of sight. “Budget tight?” you mock his tone and Choso laughs from across. “Dude, the broccolini costs as much as a full tank of gas in this economy and he wants to complain about the size of our wallets?”

“Half of a tank of gas,” Choso corrects and waves his wallet around. “You’re my date for tonight, I think it’s fair that I pay.”

Your cheeks flush at his words and you’re glad that it’s dark otherwise Choso would probably think you’re having a fever right now. You swallow thickly, “Let me pay, you already cover for Yuuji’s groceries.”

“How about I pay for this and you can cover for the next photo shoot?” Well, you can’t really argue with that logic, as much as you do want to.

“I, ugh, okay fine,” and to lighten up the mood, you add, “As your date, it’s your job to spoil me tonight.”

Choso laughs a little, seemingly satisfied by your answer. “Yeah, I know.”

The broccolini ends up tasting subpar. But you both knew that, afterall, you couldn’t afford any of the entrees on the menu without going into debt. You split half of the dish, which really isn’t that much to begin with — maybe like three pieces for each person. You’ve seen Choso eat before, you practically have lunch and dinner with him almost every single day, but something about this feels entirely different.

He’s more careful, using the comically gold plated silverware to cut into the dish and making sure he doesn’t make a mess. There’s a certain softness in his eyes when he looks up, asking if the food is okay, if it’s too salty and if he should order more. Obviously, you say no, because you’re not the type to take advantage of his kindness, no matter how much he persists. When you manage to get a bit of sauce on your cheeks, he subconsciously reaches over and swipes it away with his thumb, only then do you smell his rich cologne and see that he’s freshly shaven in the face. It makes your dumb heart do even dumber flips until you remind yourself that it’s just for a class project.

The rest of the 'date' goes surprisingly well. Of course it does – you’re with your best friend, and the topic of fake dating doesn’t come up again in the night. You both end up making stupid games with each other about inventing fake backstories for all the rich old people in the restaurant, and you both have to bite down on your hands from laughing too loud.

It feels like a normal hangout but, in your mind, it’s so much more.

After another futile attempt to fight for the bill, Choso wins, and you both start leaving. You’re lagging behind him, hands fiddling on your camera settings as you look through the few photos you manage to take during the meal. The dim lighting makes Choso look moodier than usual, but the images still feel stiff and doesn’t really capture the whole ‘love’ theme. 

You only look up again when Choso tugs on your sleeves, dragging you gently out the revolving doors and finally into the cool, night air, and you can’t help but gasp.

Choso blinks and his hands fly to his face, rubbing around for any traces of green florets. “Is there something on my face?”

“Don’t move,” you angle your camera, getting down to one knee and making sure the moonlight is shining directly at his sides because he looks absolutely ethereal right now.

The camera releases its shutters several times, taking at least ten photos in case one of them ends up looking bad, which is practically impossible because it’s Choso — but you’re not going to tell him that. Satisfied with the outcome, you rush up to him, bumping into his shoulder, and eagerly present the finished results.

“One of these is definitely going into the project,” you huff out with pride and Choso nods besides you.

“I’m not usually the type to have photos of myself but these are good,” he agrees. “Mind sending a few over?”

“Yeah,” you give him a soft smile and laugh.

You decide to save the first one for your portfolio and leave the other nine for your memories.

The second photo shoot ends up being domestic themed. Which is way better than paying for an overpriced meal.

It’s the weekend and also your monthly movie night marathon with Choso, so both of you are currently laying on either end of the couch in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and sweats. You decide, in order to fit the theme, that the perfect movie series to put on is the After series.

“Did you know that this first started out as a One Direction fanfic?” you huddle your knees close to your chest, eyes practically glued to the screen as the introduction plays.

“Is that why the reviews are bad?” he jabs.

Your eyes widen, scooting close to his side and pinching his arm as punishment for looking up the movie prior. “Hey, you’re supposed to go into this blind.”

“You’ve already read it though,” Choso counters and nudges you back. 

“Yeah, and you haven’t,” you roll your eyes and somehow neither of you comment how close your bodies are. 

You understand why they have to change the names of the characters due to copyright laws but you can’t help but to cringe at the replacement names. Harry is now Hardin, Zyan is now Zed, and Liam is now Landon. And the acting? Pretty bad. Possibly even worse compared to the Sharknado marathon you both had last month.

“That’s,” you pull out your fingers to count, “like the fifth sex scene within the past hour.”

In the middle of it, when Choso is pressed up against you, you decide it’s picture time. You raise the camera to fit you both, and throw up a peace sign, because why not? It’ll make a cute photo.

Or so you think until impulsively, Choso leans down and plants a chaste kiss on your head.

The photo ends up looking comically cute, with his eyes closed and your surprised look, but you're pretty much trying to keep yourself together from exploding on the spot.

“Sorry,” he pulls back, and there’s a heavy blush running across his cheeks as he says, “I thought it would look good and fit the theme.”

“R-Right,” you sharply inhale a breath as you wordlessly lean back into his touch, continuing the film without bringing up the kiss again.

When the third film starts playing, Choso ends up falling asleep on your shoulder, and you take it upon yourself to steal yourself a kiss on his forehead, somehow convincing yourself it’s for the project without even taking a photo.

“Have you ever, I dunno, thought about the fact that he likes you back?” Nobara asks bluntly during one particular evening at the library. 

“Shh!” You press a finger on her lips, ignoring her muffled whines as you try to control the rapid beating from your chest. “Not so loud!”

Nobara sighs and pulls back, pen gliding across her notebook and draws a shitty version of you and Choso in the middle of the page. “This is you, and this is him,” she points at the figures before doodling hearts above. “This is you and him from everyone’s point of view—so disgustingly in love that it makes all of us physically vomit sometimes,” she says this in the nicest way possible.

“Dude,” you frown and hide your face behind a textbook, fearing that other students would overhear. “He doesn’t like me like that. We’ve been friends since forever and I feel like if we make a move on each other then our dynamic will be fucked.”

She blinks, unfazed by your frenzied state, and sighs again. “Keep telling yourself that.” Nobara rips out the doodle and slides it across the desk to you. You begrudgingly accept it, shoving it in your bag. “When are you guys meeting up? You have one more photo shoot, right?”

“Later tonight, in his dorm,” you mumble shyly, feeling yourself growing smaller at that fact.

Nobara snorts. “A sex photo shoot?”

“No!” and you slap a hand over your mouth once several students hush you. “No.” you repeat, softer this time.

She laughs and doesn’t push the conversation any further. “Mhm, okay, okay.”

A few hours later and you're browsing around in his dorm room, trying to understand some of his organic chemistry notes but all it does is makes your brain hurt.

“I don’t get how you’re able to do this,” you plop down on his bed, staring hard at the back of Choso’s head as he pulls out an earbud, chuckling at your frustration. 

“I can teach you,” he offers, to which you immediately decline. “Or not, that’s cool, too.”

It bothers you a little of how normal everything is. You’ve definitely moved on from the kiss. Definitely. Not like you replayed it every day of your life for the past week. Not at all. Completely moved on. Yeah. Maybe Choso’s doing the same thing? Or, maybe he’s completely engrossed in his studies and you’re just a sick, sick friend who’s using your best friend? Yeah, maybe that’s it.

You clear your throat after a few beats in silence. “What did you have in mind?”

Choso hums in thought before shrugging. “Maybe capture something personal in my dorm? I think that’ll work.” Then, he gets up and excuses himself to the bathroom. “If you’re hungry, I have some snacks in my drawers. Be back in a second.”

When the door shuts, you let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. You’ve been in his room plenty of times and, after everything, it’s so hard to keep yourself composed around him. Ugh, this project wasn’t supposed to make you feel anything.

You take up his offer and start rummaging through his drawers. The top drawer consists of nothing but graphing paper and his carefully curated pens and pencils. His second drawer holds his other lab notebooks and extra scrap paper with scribbled notes. As you approach his third and final drawer, your gaze falls to an old photograph of you and Choso back in middle school on his desk.

It’s tucked away in the corner, just behind his lamp, and it’s a fond memory. Your arms are wrapped around his waist, his body slightly lifted above the ground, and your face looks absolutely constipated as you were trying your hardest to hold him. Choso, on the other hand, looks like he was about to burst into flames. Without thinking, you grab your camera and capture his desk, zooming in on the photo as the focal point. It’s slightly out of focus and a bit shaken up, like you couldn’t keep your hands still when you were taking it, but it’s perfect.

The following day you submit your portfolio, along with the rest of your classmates. Some complaining about how unfair the project was, some boasting about how it’s the easiest assignment out of the year, and some—you—are a bundle of nerves.

It’s not until the end of the week, where you’re having dinner with Choso in the dining hall, that you receive an email notification stating that grades are finally posted. 

You jolt from your seat, swallowing the last bits of roasted vegetables on your platter, before checking your grades. One. Two. Three… when the site loads, you practically screech in celebration.

“I got the A!”

“Congrats,” Choso smiles softly before it fades away, replaced by a nervous laugh and then a frown. “I’m sorry about kissing you the other day.”

Wow, that’s not exactly what you were expecting.

You choke on your drink but he continues, “I can tell you’ve been acting weird since then. And I think I stepped out of the line doing it. I’m sorry.”

Fuck, what are you supposed to say to that?

You scratch the back of your neck, face now equally as warm as his. “Don’t apologize, I’m actually kinda glad you did…”

He blinks. “You are?”

“Yeah,” you nod and Choso flushes more at that.

Then, his eyebrows shoot up. “You like me?”

“A lot,” and he gets even redder. God, he has no idea how much you’re madly in love with him.

“So, I guess we can start taking photos together like an actual couple then?”

You laugh, not fully believing that this is how your confession gets to be known. “Yeah, I guess we can.”

Looking back at every photo, every longing moment to the lingering touches, kisses, and the methodical layout of his room, you wonder if there was a moment where you faked your feelings for one another. The simple answer is no, to anyone, these photographs only contain unconditional love.

© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.

[veeagainsttheday]

Two lines from OFMD s2 have been rotating around in my head for the last few weeks. 

The first is from s2e3, when Ed is speaking with Hornigold about his sandals, and Hornigold tells him that he always has to have an angle. Ed responds by saying, ‘Nah, mate, I’m actually just a very simple man’ before sharing his thoughts about opening an inn. 

The second is in s2e7, after Ed left Stede, when Stede and Izzy are in Jackie’z. Izzy says to Stede, ‘You know what he did when I told him I loved him? He shot me,’ as Stede says, ‘He shot you. I know.’ Izzy continues, ‘He’s a complicated man.’ Stede doesn’t respond; they look at each other for a moment and then the scene ends. 

First of all - that line of Izzy’s about Ed shooting him when Izzy told Ed he loved him makes me want to start ripping my hair out in frustration. Ed shot Izzy when Izzy announced in front of the crew that vibes were bad because of Ed’s feelings for Stede Bonnet. Ed responded to Izzy saying he loved Ed by making a noise of disgust and walking out of the conversation. So it’s fascinating that Izzy has reframed the event in this way (and not the first time we hear him reframe it - as he tells Lucius a shark took his leg). Stede obviously heard that Ed shot Izzy (he says, ‘shooting people’s legs off’ in the list of reasons why Ed’s in the sackcloth at the start of s2e5), but we have no idea where he heard it from or who told him why. The way he says, ‘I know,’ to Izzy in s2e7 gives me the impression that he’s heard Izzy say it a number of times - he sounds weary. I’m guessing Ed’s never told Stede what really happened, nor any of the crew who witnessed it. But if I could ask the writers about one line from s2, I really think this would be it - I just don’t know how to interpret it (and if anyone has any ideas, I’d love to hear them below!). 

Anyway. Back to those two lines. Ed says he’s ‘actually just a very simple man’ in response to being misunderstood by Hornigold (actually his own self-consciousness). For two seasons, Ed’s been attempting to communicate that he’s got a simple, reasonable desire to retire from a dangerous, violent career and be with the man he loves. Izzy’s response has been to deny Ed that, to call Ed insane, try to keep him in piracy by whatever means he can, and of course try to get Stede killed. By the time Ed’s in the gravy basket, he’s arguing even in his own head that he’s a simple man, with a simple desire for the future. 

Then we come to s2e7, and Izzy still doesn’t get it. He still thinks Ed is a complicated man, he still thinks Ed is acting in a way that doesn’t make sense or requires some convoluted explanation. It’s notable to me that Stede doesn’t agree - we know from s2e3 (and, ya know, the rest of the show) that Stede understands Ed deeply.  Then I think about Ed talking to the ‘wolf’ in s2e4 - ‘It’s a very rare thing to find someone who understands you,’ he says, tears in his eyes, obviously missing Stede but also - fuck, man, that scene with the rabbit is so funny but makes me so sad for Ed, because he really does have a pretty simple desire and he’s spent months - implied years - being told that he’s crazy for having it.

[kiddbegins]

Talk to Me - Will Halstead

Requested: yes

Word count: 479

Warnings: mention of a big car accident but like, barely

A/n: sorry it’s short I didn’t wanna give a whole spiel about her job etc yeah

Masterlist

[“i swear that if you don’t get down here and let me take care of you i will make your life hell!”]

Will Halstead was a stubborn motherfucker. He always has been, always will be. At work he didn’t stop his ideas from happening just because someone said no. He did what he had to.

At home he stuck his ground if he had an idea on what to have for dinner or what movie to watch. More importantly, he didn’t drop it when he could tell you were having a bad day. When he could see the frown tugging on your lips.

In fact, everytime you pulled away from him, instead retreating to the balcony to your apartment with a mug in your hand that once had hot chocolate in it but was now empty.

He hated not being able to hold you. To be able to tell you it would be okay. He knew being a firefighter meant seeing hard things. He’d seen his fair share of things in the ED and that’s not even the scene of it all.

“Baby, please talk to me.” His hand just lightly graced the sliding door’s handle, a worried look on his face. You simply waved him off, your mind farther away than usual.

After some crazy person drove the wrong way onto the highway and caused a huge pileup, you saw some shit you couldn’t get out of your mind. Your chief had called that shift quits and sent you home early. Not even making it through the night.

Will sighed heavily, leaning his head against the glass, his frustration at being shut out overtaking, “Y/n, if you don’t come in here and let me take care of you I’ll make your life a living hell.” He grumbled, poking his head through the door.

Lightly you smiled, knowing it was barely visible as you stood, going over to the taller man. “Will, there’s nothing you can do. But I love you for trying.” You spoke softly, arms going around his waist.

“Please let me try. You can talk to me. Cry on my shoulder if you need to. Just please, stop bottling it up before it gets out of hand.” He brought a hand to your cheek, worry flushed in his eyes.

You felt it in his touch, how gentle his fingertips felt on your skin, how he leaned his forehead just slightly against yours.

Honestly it made you feel horrible. Were you wrong for shutting him out? It’s not like you don’t talk to the chaplain once or twice a week, (more if needed). But maybe leaning on him wouldn’t be too horrible.

In the midst of your thinking, tears had sprung to your eyes, daring to fall as Will gave you the softest look known to man kind. “Baby..”

“It was horrible.” Your voice low as a sob was choked out, falling face first into Will’s chest as you finally let go of everything you’d been holding in.

If you liked this, apply to Will's tag list here :)

Tags: @winchesterszvonecek @thebewingedjewelcat @everything-fandom @mrspeacem1nusone

[daemour]

Answer (1/2)

Pairing: ghost!Seonghwa x Reader ft. future San

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Ghost AU, Mystery, Supernatural elements, vaguely horror

Warnings: Religious content, toxic possessiveness, slight yandere, mentions of death, death

Word count (part specific): 1228

Summary: For as long as Seonghwa had been roaming the world as a ghost, he hadn’t remembered much of his life when he was... well... living. But one thing he does remember is you. His childhood friend whom he hadn’t seen since he moved in primary school. So naturally, he seeks you out.

To his surprise, you can see him. He immediately decides to hold onto you for as long as he can. After all, you’re the only tie he has to the living world. He doesn’t want anything to get in the way of what could be a normal life. 

Not even your potential partners.

im sorry this took so long T-T it's for @flurrys-creativity's 666 Milestone Collab but I totally lost all motivation and didn't even know how to finish this. The second part comes out next week (6/23)!

Part 1 - Part 2

-

“So….you’re like…dead?” You look so confused and Seonghwa honestly finds it adorable.

“(Y/N), dear, when you first saw me I was floating a foot in the air. I am currently transparent. What more could you ask?” You roll your eyes and attempt to smack Seonghwa, but again, he is a ghost and your hand just passes through him. “See, even more evidence!” He can’t help but tease you. The look on your face is worth it.

“You are so not funny, Seonghwa,” you hiss, frowning at him. “I haven’t seen you since we were in primary, and now you’re just dead?”

“Sorry, sorry,” there’s still a laugh in Seonghwa’s voice, but he stops teasing you. “I died, yes. I don’t really remember how, but all I knew were fragmented memories…and your face was in most of them. So I decided to find you, and lo and behold! You can see me.”

Your eyebrows furrow and for a moment Seonghwa worries that he might make you cry. “That’s so sad. I’m sorry,” you frown at Seonghwa and he waves his hand as if trying to brush away your pity.

“Don’t worry about it. I get to see you again anyways, so it’s not too bad,” he jokes to lighten the atmosphere. “How is it, being an adult? You’re getting so old.”

His attempt works for the most part, although you’ve still got sadness in your eyes. “Shut up, you’re only a couple years older than me.” You attempt to shove him again, and this time Seonghwa lets himself materialise just a bit more so that you can make contact, and he falls onto his side with a giggle.

“That wasn’t very nice, (Y/N)! I am just trying to inquire about your life.” Seonghwa pouts and you roll your eyes at the sight.

“Life is good, I guess. My parents don’t live here anymore, but they let me stay since they paid off the mortgage and it’s closer to my university. I just pay the utilities myself,” you hum. “What else, what else. I’m going to community college to get my gen-eds done…and I think that’s about all.”

“Oh, where are your parents now?” Seonghwa asks. “They were always so nice to me. At least no one will think you’re crazy for talking to ghost me.” He nudges you a little and you slap his elbow away.

“Oh, shut up, I probably am a little crazy if I can see you,” you say lightheartedly, and Seonghwa can’t lie—those words stung. “But they moved in with my maternal grand-aunt. She’s been having health issues. And my mom loves it there. She practically grew up there so it’s a second home to her.”

You trail off as your phone rings, and you smile at the sight of the caller id. “Oh, I have to take this call, sorry, Hwa. It’s my partner for this project I’m doing.”

And just like that, you were out of your room and down the hall. Seonghwa watches you leave with a soft smile on his face. He missed you. And now he gets to see you again and be with you forever.

-

“How was school today?” When you get home from college, Seonghwa is lying on your couch. Or rather, floating above your couch because maintaining a physical form for that long is tiring. He’s the epitome of relaxed, although a little bored since he can’t leave the house for too long without you since he’s tied his spirit down.

“It was good,” you reply, setting your bookbag on the coffee table to take off your shoes. “A little boring today since all I had were an English class and a long Chem lab. How was watching YouTube?”

“Exhilarating,” Seonghwa teases, finally straightening up to float towards you and greeting you with a hug. “Snuck a little bit of Netflix in there too.”

You hum, moving into the kitchen with Seonghwa following close behind. “Sounds like a fun day. Sorry that you have to be inside a lot though…I’d take you to class but I might get distracted and look like a fool talking to you.”

Seonghwa laughs shortly, hands moving to wrap around your stomach as he peeks over your shoulder at the bowl of cold pudding you’re eating. “Is that all you’re going to eat?” is all he says in response.

“Mmh, yeah. I just came back to grab a snack but then I’ll be going to the library and will grab lunch somewhere.” You pause, turning your head to take a glance at the ghost leaning on your shoulder. “You can come along this time if you’d like? I can get a study room at the library and so we can chat or you could read.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widen. He can feel his heart lurch like it's been stabbed—it’s only now he realises how different his routine has become now that he’s died. He stays at home 90 percent of the time so he always forgets how much you have to accommodate for him to accompany you.

“I’d like to,” he mumbles out, and as if you can tell how he’s feeling, you lean into his touch as a slight comfort.

“Yeah! You’ll have to tell me all about the YouTube and the Netflix,” you joke, a smile on your lips that Seonghwa can see out of the corner of his eye. God, he’s glad he finally found you.

-

“Where were you?” Seonghwa asks when you come back as the sun is setting, a far cry from when you usually arrive at two in the afternoon. “I got worried.”

"Oh no, I'm so sorry Hwa!" You exclaim after a quick glance at your watch. "I totally forgot that there's no way to contact you and lost track of time. I had gotten a partner project assigned to me so we went to the library to start to plan it out. I'm sorry."

Seonghwa purses his lips but relaxes. "That's okay. I just thought you got kidnapped or hurt or something. It seems like much longer when you're just here by yourself."

You hum in understanding, offering him a small smile. "Yeah, I get that. How about we order dinner since I worried you? It'll be a treat. And we gotta figure something out about the communication."

Seonghwa sighs affectionately. "That's more like a treat for you since I technically don't need to eat, but hey, I can still taste it so I'll take it."

You roll your eyes, poking him in the side. "Don't think I didn't notice you stealing all of my pudding, Seonghwa. Don't try to play cool with me."

Seonghwa laughs, batting your hand away. "Hey, you eat too many of those anyway. I'm actually doing you a favour by keeping you from getting sick.”

You scoff. "I take great offense to that—I haven't gotten sick yet."

"Just wait." Seonghwa rolls his eyes. "And I'll laugh when that happens."

Instead of being a mature adult who will accept when you're wrong, you just start ignoring him, looking through the menus you have pinned up on a billboard. "What do you want to eat?"

"Dude, nice way to dodge that. And I really could care less. Pizza?"

"Only if we can get stuffed crust," you offer and Seonghwa laughs.

"As if I would eat it any other way."

[rosygaze]

rings and promises

pairing: vampire!eddie munson x female!reader

synopsis: in march of ‘86, you lost the love of your life to the upside down. when you have to go back a year later, you find out he might not truly be lost. 

warnings: vampire!eddie, angst, major character death, guns, the upside down, talks of marriage, this is a sad one y’all but it has a happy ending

word count: 6.3k+

masterlist

gif by @yellenabelova​

The sunset glow seeped through the windows of the RV, casting everything in a warm, orange haze. The motorhome shook and rumbled as Steve drove back into Hawkins. The reality of what you were about to do settled in and everyone sat in somber silence as if the Grim Reaper himself was looming over your shoulders.

Max, Lucas, Erica, and yourself all held metal lanterns that were going to help you track that bastard, Vecna, while the rest of the group was decked out in battle gear. Complete with spears, shields, axes, and guns. 

It was a crazy idea. When the plan was laid out, a part of you wanted to run and hide but you knew you were the only chance Hawkins would have of surviving this psychopath. Everyone had their part to play and you were supposed to stick to it. If everything went right, all of you would make it out alive and put an end to this horrible nightmare. Nancy was so confident about the plan but you couldn’t ignore the weird feeling in your gut. 

Steve announced that you were about ten minutes away from the Creel house and your fingers fidgeted around the metal handle. Breaths quick and heart pounding, you were terrified. You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself down. 

A cold sensation on the back of your hand made you jump and open your eyes. You looked down and saw the ringed hand curl around yours. You turned your hand and entwined your fingers together, slipping into each other with ease from years of practice. Glancing up, you saw your boyfriend’s worried eyes peering down at you. 

“You okay?” Eddie Munson asked. His question almost made you laugh. If anything, you should be checking in on him. This week was horrible for him. Being accused of murder, hiding from the cops, and now getting ready to fight an evil wizard. Yet, here Eddie was, ever the gentleman and checking in on you. 

“I’m okay.” You said quietly. He squeezed your hand tight. 

“After we kill this son of a bitch, what if we go on a trip together? Just the two of us. We’ll take my van and go somewhere nice for the rest of spring break.” Eddie proposed. Even with everything going on, he was able to pull that charming smile that attracted you to him in the first place. 

“That would be nice.” You fiddled with the ring on his index finger. “We’ll make a new mix for it and everything.” 

“We’ll call it ‘The Lovers’ Guide to the Open Road’.” Eddie put his free hand out in the air as if he were showing you the eighth wonder of the world. You giggled. 

“That’s so cheesy.”

“Maybe but it did make you laugh, though.” He smirked down at you. Even with his attempts to distract you, you couldn’t help the nerves. Eddie must’ve seen the change in your expression so he furrowed his brows. “Tell me what’s on your mind, pretty girl.” 

You bit your lip, hesitating for a second. “Why do I have a horrible feeling about all this, Eds?” Voice only a whisper so that the others couldn’t hear you.  

“We’re gonna be fine, sweetheart. We’re gonna kick Vecna’s ass and we’re gonna win, just like my campaign. Trust me.” Eddie moved his arm around you, taking your joined hands with him, and pulled you close to him. You leaned your head on his shoulder, enjoying the little bit of peace he gave you just with his proximity. 

“How are you so calm right now?” 

“Oh, I’m not. I’m freaking out inside.” You laughed at his honesty. 

“I’m scared.” You confessed. 

“Me too but we’re gonna get through this. I know it.” Eddie rubbed your arm comfortingly and kissed the top of your head, lips lingering and eyes closing. He kept his lips pressed against your head. Your presence was keeping him calm too. 

“I wish I could go with you. See your concert.” Eddie’s part of the plan was insane. Summoning demobats with a guitar solo? Not once had you ever thought that you would hear those words strung together in one sentence. You’d kill to see that in person. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll recreate it for you after.” You hummed and continued to play with his rings. The two of you stayed in the same position until Steve pulled up in front of the Creel house. The kids stood up from their seats. Nancy and Robin came up to hug Max while Dustin and Lucas shook hands. You knew you had to go but you didn’t wanna leave Eddie. 

“Is it too late for me to change teams?” You asked. 

“I think so.” He sighed and removed his arm from you so he could help pull you up. “We’ve got this.”

You nodded. “Be careful in there. You come back to me, okay?”

“I will. I promise.” Eddie took in your features, committing them to memory before he pulled off one of his rings and grasped your left hand. He slipped the metal band on your ring finger. You gave him a questioning look. “For after?”

He didn’t need to say anything else. You knew exactly what he meant by this. A little courthouse ceremony with just your friends. The domestic life in a small apartment outside of this godforsaken town. Tears sprung to your eyes at the idea of your life together and Eddie cupped your cheeks. He made you look at him, into those deep brown eyes of his that made you fall in love every time. You nodded, enthusiastically. “I love you, Eds.” Your throat was tight.

“I love you. So much.” He breathed and kissed you deeply, pouring all his love for you into it. Eddie held back his tears. He let himself indulge for a couple more seconds before he pulled away. You pressed your forehead against his. Then you heard Max call your name. Turning, you saw the girl’s grave expression. 

“Time to go.” She said. You gave her a curt nod before turning back to Eddie. 

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Eddie told you and you nodded in response, not trusting your voice to speak. He pressed one last kiss to your forehead. Hands still joined together, you turned to climb out of the RV. Eddie only let go of you at the very last second. You took one last look at all your friends and gave a sad smile to your boyfriend before you shut the metal door. 

Beep. 

Beep.

Beep. 

The steady sounds from Max’s heart monitor filled the small, sterile room. Lucas was camped out on the chair right beside her bed while you and Erica sat on the bench by the window. She leaned her head on your shoulder and napped quietly. All three of you were exhausted by the events of the previous night. 

The plan had gone to shit. 

It started well enough. Vecna had put Max under his spell and it was time to move. You and Erica gave Nancy, Steve, and Robin the signal to go to the next phase. You swore you could even hear the strums of Eddie’s guitar in the distance. Then out of nowhere, Jason’s car came barreling down the street and everything got messed up. 

One of the stupid jocks had attacked you and Erica while Jason went into the house to confront Lucas. “That was for Eddie.” You said when you finally managed to knock the jock out with a hard punch to the face. The two of you ran to the house only to find the door locked. Inside, you could hear Lucas calling for Max and panic overcame your body. 

“On the count of three, we’ll run and push against the door, okay?” You stepped back a couple of feet to give you a running start. Erica followed your lead. “One, two, three!”

The two of you ran as fast as you could and used your shoulders to push against the door. Luckily, it swung open with the force of both your bodies against it. The sight that greeted you was the stuff of nightmares. Max’s broken body lay in Lucas’ arms. Her limbs were bent in unnatural angles. In the blue light of the lanterns, you could see the blood dripping from her eyes. You were frozen in your spot. She looked dead.

“Help!” Lucas cried out. That snapped you out of your shock. You snapped out of it and reached around for the walkie-talkie you wore around your body, trying different channels to see if anybody could come to your rescue. 

Then the ground shook. You pulled Erica close and dragged the two of you under the door frame as you watched the ground open. When the shaking stopped, you helped Lucas carry Max out of the house. Jason’s car was still in the driveway and in the panic, he’d left the keys in the ignition. Carefully, you set Max in the backseat and Lucas held her tight. She was alive but barely. You had to move. Once everyone was strapped in, you drove to the hospital, ignoring how your once quiet hometown was now up in flames. 

After a whole night of surgery, the doctors told you it was a miracle that Max survived. Unfortunately, she had fallen into a coma and they weren’t sure when or if she was going to wake up. When they wheeled Max in, you had to hold back from crying when you saw how frail she looked. Guilt racked your body. If only you’d stayed with her and Lucas, maybe you could’ve helped him fight off Jason. Maybe you could’ve stopped him from stepping on her walkman. Maybe you could’ve stopped this. 

The emotions were bubbling in your chest again, overwhelming you. The only thing grounding you was being able to feel Eddie’s ring on your hand. Your thoughts were cut off by a knock on the door. Carefully, you slipped from under Erica’s head and made sure to lay her sideways on the bench. You opened the door and gasped when you saw Dustin, Steve, Nancy, and Robin. Immediately, you pulled all of them into a big group hug. 

“Are you guys okay?” You asked but didn’t get a response. They looked behind you and saw Max in her bed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save her.” 

“It’s not your fault.” Robin put a hand on your shoulder. Lucas stood up from Max’s side and hugged them as well. 

“We hurt Vecna pretty good but then his body suddenly disappeared. We don’t know where he went.” Steve said, patting Lucas’ back. 

You nodded then realized something was wrong. A person was missing, your person. Your long-haired boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. Sparing a glance at your friends, you saw that they all had melancholic expressions as they looked at you. That horrible gut feeling from the RV was back.

“W-where’s Eddie?” You stuttered. You watched Steve, Nancy, Robin, and Dustin look at each other, mainly focusing on the youngest of the quartet. There was something off about Dustin. His eyes were red-rimmed and he had a deep frown on his face which was unusual. “Dustin?” 

At your call, he looked at you with watery eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but choked up and the tears fell down his face. Your stomach lurched. There was a ringing in your ears and you barely registered Nancy and Steve trying to get you to take a seat but you shrugged them off. 

“No! Tell me what happened! Where is Eddie?” The volume of your voice woke up Erica and made Dustin flinch. 

“T-the demobats. They were everywhere and they got into the trailer.” Dustin started. “Eddie… He stayed back to distract them. I begged him to come back through the gate but he wouldn’t listen. There were just so many and he…” Dustin closed his eyes. Steve grasped his shoulder for support. Please. Please don’t say it. You thought. “He didn’t make it.” 

An unbearable ache was building in your chest. Your jaw dropped and you heaved, feeling like you were about to throw up. This can’t be happening. It can’t. Eddie was going to come in here any second and gather you in a hug like he always did. He had to.

“He could’ve easily climbed out with me. He could’ve saved himself but he chose to fight. He saved me. He saved us.” Dustin could barely get the words out. The ring on your finger felt like it was burning. Rough fabric brushed against your hands and Eddie’s denim vest came into view. You gripped it tightly with shaking hands. The last of your resilience crumbled and you burst out into sobs. “He wanted me to let you know that he’s sorry and that he loves you. Eddie loved you so much. And I’m so, so sorry that I couldn’t help him.” 

Dustin’s voice finally cracked and he turned to cry into Steve’s shoulder. For a few moments, the only thing you could hear in the room was Dustin’s crying and Max’s machine. 

“He was supposed to graduate in a couple of months.” You spoke up finally, clutching the vest to you. Nancy was rubbing your arm in an attempt to comfort you. She whispered words of consolation to you. “W-we were gonna go on a trip after this. We had plans! Nance, we had plans.” 

Only then did they notice the ring on your finger. Eddie’s promise to you of a future together. Their hearts broke. “I’m sorry. It’s going to be okay. Just let it out.” Nancy told you. 

“He promised.”  You sounded broken. Defeated. “He promised me that he’d come back.”

Your knees buckled, finally giving out under you. Panicked hands grabbed at you and softened your fall. You could barely breathe and you could taste your salty tears. Then there were hands on your shoulders. Looking up, you saw that Dustin had kneeled in front of you, equally broken. Eddie meant so much to the two of you. You both paused for a second then hugged each other tightly and cried together. 

Eventually, the rest of your friends enveloped the two of you in a hug. The echoes of your heartbroken wailing were going to haunt them for the rest of their lives. 

Hawkins, Indiana had become hell on Earth. 

The Upside Down began seeping into the real world shortly after the earthquake. Spores floated through the once fresh air of your hometown and the military evacuated what was left of the town to the next city over. There they expected you to just keep on living as if nothing ever happened.

You tried to do that, to move on. It’s what Eddie would’ve wanted. But how could you when he haunted your mind every single day? 

A year after the earthquakes, a knock came on your door and you knew something was up. Your friends stood on the other side of the door which wasn’t unusual since they often checked on you. You thought they didn’t want a repeat of what happened to Max. What tripped you off was the serious expressions that mirrored the ones they had that fateful day in March of ‘86. 

They told you they had a plan to end all of this once and for all. It was another insane plan but at this point, you learned that weird shit was gonna happen for the rest of your life. Maybe if you joined them, you could stop them from happening. So you agreed. 

You found yourself in between Nancy and Robin in the big van that Chief Hopper was driving back into Hawkins. The familiarity of this situation was making your body shake with fear. At least the last time you were in a car that was hurtling towards possible death, you had Eddie by your side. You closed your eyes when the overwhelming emotions made your eyes watery. 

“We’re here,” Hopper announced. Outside the windows were the dilapidated remains of Forest Hills Trailer Park. 

Hopper and Steve stepped out of the car first, scoping the area if it was safe to come out. Two knocks came on the door and the rest of the group filed out. In front of you was the old Munson trailer. The last time you were here was when you helped Wayne Munson clear out what was left after the gates opened up and destroyed half of the trailer park. 

You gripped the barrel of the sawed-off shotgun that Nancy had fashioned for you. Flashes of Eddie’s smile as he greeted you from the very steps you were climbing now flitted across your mind. You stepped over the pile of rubble and entered the trailer. You bit your lip and looked around. 

The kitchen counter was split in half. You remembered sitting on Eddie’s lap with his denim vest on the counter while you helped him sew new patches to it. Every time the sharp needle pricked your skin, he kissed your fingers. Cooing at you and yelling expletives at the darned metal thing that was hurting his girl. When you finished, he thanked you with a million kisses and put the vest on. The very same vest that you wore over your jacket now. 

To your left was the only part of the home that wasn’t destroyed by the gate. Eddie’s room. The door was open and if you ignored your circumstances, you could picture yourself going into his room and finding him on his bed. Maybe he’d have his guitar on his lap or his nose in a book. It didn’t matter because the second he saw you through the doorway, he’d drop whatever it was and open his arms for you. 

This place used to be filled with love and happiness but now it reminded you of everything you’d lost. 

A single tear fell down your cheek. 

When your name was called, you brushed the tear away and faced the group again. There were those sympathetic smiles again. “You ready?” Steve asked you. 

“Yeah.” You said way too fast. The glowing red gate to the Upside Down had moved from the ceiling of the trailer to the ground. Everyone looked at you worriedly but said nothing. Circling around the gate; Hopper, Steve, Nancy, Robin, Eleven, Dustin, and you all stared down at the gate. 

Hopper didn’t hesitate to drop himself into the hole carefully, disappearing from view.  “Everyone come on in!” The chief’s voice made you all jump in surprise.

Steve led the charge and easily crawled through the gate, followed by Nancy and Robin. You handed your shotgun to Robin and bent down to push yourself through the hole. Steve’s hand came into view and you took it to help you through. The two teens came in last and then all of you were in the Upside Down. 

It was your first time being in this damned dimension and your jaw dropped at how it was an exact copy of Hawkins. Red lightning flashed in the distance and thunder growled. You followed Chief Hopper’s lead as you trekked further into the town and closer to the Creel house. Lagging behind the group, you fell into step with Dustin. You glanced at your young friend and saw the unease in his body. It must be hard for him to be back here. 

“You doing alright?” 

Dustin looked at you and it made your heart pang, seeing how much he’d changed over the year. His once perpetually, happy eyes had lost their sparkle. “I should be asking you that.” 

You waved him off. “I wasn’t here when…you know…” Trailing off, you felt your throat constrict. Do not cry. This is about Dustin. “If it ever gets too much, just tell me okay? I’ll take you back. No judgment.” 

He gave you just the hint of a smile. “Thanks.”

The group entered the woods. The thick trees combined with the dark atmosphere made it hard to see clearly. An unsettling vibe was in the air and it wasn’t just the threat of demo-whatevers lurking. No, it was different. You could feel someone watching you. The back of your head tingled and goosebumps appear on the back of your neck. 

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw something fast move to your left. You drew your gun in the direction but saw nothing. Squinting, you swore you saw something in the trees. Something that looked human. 

“What is it?” Nancy asked you. Everyone had stopped and brought their respective weapons up. 

“I thought I saw something.” You said quietly. 

“I saw it too.” El said. You looked at her and you both had matching worried expressions. After a few seconds of monitoring your surroundings and it looked like there was nothing. Whatever you saw had just disappeared. 

“Alright, let’s keep moving. Stick to the plan,” Hopper announced and kept walking further into the woods. Reluctantly, you followed. The feeling of being watched still lingered. 

You continued walking for a few minutes, hoping that your fearless leader hadn’t gotten you lost. In the dark, you had to focus extra hard to make sure you weren’t stepping on any vines that would alert Vecna of your location. Of course the one second you take your eyes off the ground, that’s when you slipped on something. Dustin was able to grab your arm and stop you from falling. 

“Thanks, Dusty.”

“No problem.”

You looked at what caused you to trip and your brows knit together. Crouching down, you took a closer look. It didn’t look like a vine nor a puddle of whatever goo covered this place. It looked like… 

A sharp gasp came from you and you picked up the offending item from the ground. A black bandana with skulls and crosses. 

The very same one Eddie was wearing the last time you saw him. 

Wide-eyed, you looked at Dustin. He told you that they left Eddie in the trailer park when they figured that it would be impossible to get him through the gate again. In the stress of being in the Upside Down, you realized that you didn’t see anything when you walked past that very area. Not that you wanted to see what would’ve been left of Eddie but something should’ve been there. 

So, how did this get over here?

The realistic explanation would be that some demonic creature had dragged his body here and it fell off but something in your gut told you that wasn’t right. Could he be…

“There!” Robin yelled. She put her flashlight up to illuminate the figure but it stood firmly about 50 feet away from the group. The light couldn’t reach fully reach it. The only thing you could see was the pair of glowing red orbs floating where its face should be. Bringing your gun up to your chest, you prepared to fight. 

“Dustin, stay behind me.” You whispered to him. 

The figure just stood there, unmoving. You felt a weird sense of familiarity with the creature in the dark and you couldn’t put a finger on it. From what you could see, the silhouette had a big head and a small body. It didn’t look anything like the demogorgon. You tried to regulate your breathing, to calm your shaking hands. 

Then the creature moved abruptly and Hopper fired shots at it but it swerved easily. Your eyes went wide. All the creatures you encountered before were fast but not as fast as this. When it got close to Steve, he swung his bat of nails at it but it easily knocked the bat out of his hands. Nancy aimed and shot the creature right in the middle of its chest but the bullets deflected easily. 

“How did that happen?” Dustin asked. 

Now that it was closer, you could see it more clearly now. What you thought was a big head, was actually a mane of fur. Or hair? Again, it moved quickly, and suddenly, it was right behind you. You pushed Dustin behind you then there was nothing in between you and this monster. 

You were about to pull the trigger on the gun but Robin’s flashlight shined on it, giving you your first good glimpse of it. It was as if someone threw a bucket of cold water all over you when you caught a glimpse of a familiar logo on its chest — the Hellfire Club. You lowered your gun as your jaw dropped. The light traveled up its chest and the creature lifted its head. You finally saw its face.

No.  

Eddie Munson stood in front of you again. He almost looked exactly like he did when you last saw him. Leather jacket, tactical vest. It’s like he was plucked straight out of your memories. Except his shirt was tattered and dried blood stained the white fabric. He looked deathly pale even in the blue hues of this alternate dimension. Blood dripped from the sides of his mouth and his eyes… His eyes weren’t the warm chocolate brown you loved so much. Instead, they were bright red and looked straight at you. Hot tears streamed down your face. 

“Eddie?” You gasped. Eddie tilted his head at your voice but didn’t respond. 

“Oh my god,” Dustin exclaimed. 

“How is he alive?” Steve said. 

Your brain was running a million miles a second. “Eddie?” You tried again. 

Tentatively, you took a step forward. Eddie snarled. Then you noticed the pointy canines that weren’t there before. Before you could get a closer look, he lunged at you. You heard everyone scream and you closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact that never came. You opened your eyes and saw that Eddie was frozen in place. He struggled against an invisible force. Beside you, Eleven had her right hand in the air, holding him in place. She squeezed her hand and Eddie let out a choked sound. “Stop! Please, El. Don’t hurt him!” 

“He will kill you.” She told you.

“He won’t. He won’t hurt me.” You begged. El loosened her grip but still kept him restrained.

“Kid, you better get away from him. That’s not the same guy anymore.” Hopper told you, his gun still cocked and aimed for your boyfriend’s chest. 

“No! That’s still him.” You weren’t being rational. You knew that but the chance to get the love of your life back was standing right in front of you and you weren’t going to throw that away. When you turned back to him, Eddie wasn’t struggling as much. “I don’t know if you can understand me or even hear me but I know this isn’t you. Whatever happened… whatever’s making you act this way… I know you can fight it.” 

He didn’t react to your words. He simply stared at you with those red eyes. 

“You’re Eddie Munson. You grew up in Hawkins, Indiana. You love Dungeons and Dragons and metal music and fantasy books. You’re passionate and smart and the kindest person I’ve ever known.” He started shaking in El’s grip. Behind you, you could hear El’s struggling grunts. Your friends tried to stop you again but you simply put a hand up to stop them. You were going to get through to him even if it was the last thing you did. 

“Do you remember how we met?” Silence. “We were 8 and we were in the playground. Some kid pushed me over to get to the swings and I banged up my knees real bad. You saw me on the ground crying with bloody knees and you immediately helped me. You even used your shirt to wipe the blood. I remember you just kept talking to me and asking me all these random questions. And I was so confused that I didn’t even feel the sting when you brushed away the gravel. After that day, we were inseparable.”

Eddie had calmed down as you talked, no longer resisting El’s hold. He breathed deeply and the red light in his eyes dimmed ever so slightly. You tried again to take a step towards him. This time he let you get close. 

“You’re my best friend and the person I love the most. Losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me so please, please. I know you’re in there, Eds. Come back to me?” You put a hand on his cheek. His skin was impossibly cold and you fought the urge to flinch. “I love you. I always have and I always will.” You whispered.

Eddie let out a breath and closed his eyes. He nuzzled into your touch. You put your other hand on his neck and tangled your fingers in his matted hair, just like you used to do. When he opened his eyes, you were greeted with those familiar brown eyes that you thought you’d never see again. A sob escaped your mouth. 

He mumbled your name. “Are you really here?” Those big, expressive eyes searched yours, looking for reality in the illusions that plagued his mind. Eleven let go of Eddie when she felt that he wasn’t going to attack anymore.

“I’m here.” Your voice cracked. “I’m right here.” 

“Christ, I missed you.” Eddie pulled you to him and you threw your arms around him. You sobbed into his shoulder. You couldn’t believe this was happening. If this was another cruel dream, you hoped you would never wake up again. 

“I lost you.” You choked out. Eddie’s arms were tight around your waist. His strength caught you off guard. Eddie had always been strong but this was different. 

“I know.” Eddie buried his face in your hair. You smelled sweeter than he remembered. 

“You promised you would come back and you left me. You jerk.” You punched his arm lightly. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” He kissed the side of your head. 

“H-how are you alive?” You managed to ask when your sobs subsided. You pushed him back ever so slightly so you could look at him. 

“I don’t know.” Eddie shook his head. He looked behind you. You turned and saw Dustin’s watery eyes. Stepping aside, you let him tackle Eddie in a hug. You could hear Dustin’s sobs. “Hey, buddy.” Eddie rubbed Dustin’s head affectionately as the boy cried in his chest. In the dark, you could see the tear tracks that slipped down his cheeks. 

“That was really cool what you did but also really stupid,” Dustin said once he let go of Eddie. 

“Yeah, dying to a swarm of bats. Pretty metal if I have to say so myself.” 

“So, you remember dying?” You asked him. 

“I do. The last thing I remember was seeing Dustin then everything went dark.” Eddie reached for your hand and, for the first time in a year, your fingers slipped into each other easily. As if no time had passed. “Then I heard a voice, telling me to wake up. It said I needed to join him. To serve him.” 

“Vecna.” Nancy spoke up. The fear in her eyes was clear as she was the only one who had experienced his visions. Eddie nodded at the older Wheeler. 

“I woke up alone and I was okay. I mean, physically. The bites were gone but I knew something was different about me. I felt so thirsty. Like if I didn’t get something to drink, I’d claw my throat out. Then I saw these.” Eddie bared his teeth and you saw the fangs again.

“Like a vampire?” Robin asked.

“I’ve read enough books in my life to know what fangs and an insatiable thirst meant.” Eddie glanced at you hesitantly. He was worried about how you would react to this new development but you simply moved even closer to him, gripped his arm, and held his hand tighter. 

“A vampire? Are you serious?” Steve asked, still not believing that he was actually here and not some group Vecna-hallucination.

“As a heart attack, Harrington.” Steve rolled his eyes at the man. Yeah, that’s Eddie. 

“What else happened, Eds?” You pushed for more answers. 

“He got in my head. I felt stuck in there and I couldn’t get out. He… made me do things. Horrible things. A-and I could see what I was doing but I had no control over myself.” Eddie’s jaw clenched. His tone was angry but you could see the shame in his eyes. “Until now. You pulled me out of his trance. You saved me.” Eddie put his cold hands on your face. 

“Like Kas!” Dustin practically shouted. 

“Who?” Steve threw his hands in the air, frustrated and confused by the lack of answers.

“Kas the Bloody Handed. Vecna’s lieutenant. Dude, you’re literally a DnD character!” Dustin bounced excitedly. “He betrayed Vecna and killed him. It’s prophesized. You’re the key to killing him!”

“And how do we know you’re not gonna turn Dracula on us again?” Chief Hopper who had been very quiet throughout the reunion finally spoke, voice gruff and eyes hard. He knew Eddie Munson. Of course, he did. He booked him multiple times for driving over the limit and he wasn’t sure he trusted the kid. Especially now that he had just tried to kill everyone just minutes ago.

“We don’t. I don’t even know if I’m fully out of this. But I want to help.” Eddie was determined to make things right. He couldn’t stop himself when Vecna had him take out those army men patrolling Hawkins but he could do something now. 

“If he was making you do things, would you know what he’s up to?” Nancy’s mind was whirring with ideas. 

“I do.” 

“And can you help us take him down?” Hopper asked.

Eddie’s face hardened. Then he smirked. A hint of the old Eddie coming to the surface. “With pleasure.” 

Chief Hopper looked at Eddie for a beat and put his gun down finally. “Alright, let’s go.” 

Your friends all gave Eddie a hug and followed Hopper’s lead. The two of you lagged behind the rest of the group. Eddie wanted a moment alone with you. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He said, softly. You almost cried again hearing his old nickname for you. 

“Hi, Eds.” Your hands were entwined together. You were slowly getting used to the feel of his cold skin against yours. 

“I wanted to talk to you.” Eddie had a serious expression on his face. 

“What is it?” Tilting your head, your brows knitted together.

“You know that I’m not…myself anymore, right?” Eddie looked at the ground. “As Hopper said, we don’t know if or when he’ll take back control and I will never forgive myself if I end up hurting you.” He tried to pull his hands away from yours but you held on tight. 

“If it happens again, then I’ll pull you out of it. I did it once and I can do it again.”

“B-but what if this is what I am now? A monster.” Eddie almost shouted but his voice cracked towards the end.

Your heart broke when you saw the broken look in his eyes. Moving your hands to his neck, you made sure he was looking into your eyes as you said the next words. “Edward Munson, you listen to me. I don’t know what Vecna made you do but it isn’t you. You weren’t in control. I know you better than anyone. You are not a monster, Eddie. Far from it.” 

His eyes softened and a tear fell down his cheek. Eddie put his forehead against yours. “You’re too good for me.” 

“I hate when you say that. Do you even know how much you mean to me?” Your thumb brushed away his tear.

“I think your speech earlier gave me a clue.” Eddie took your hand in his and gently touched the ring on your finger. He ran his thumb over the metal. “You kept it?” Eddie’s voice cracked. 

“I never took it off from the day you gave it to me.” You confessed and Eddie kissed your knuckle tenderly. “I’m yours, Eddie.” 

He pinched your waist, playfully. “Even if I’m part of the undead now?” 

“Even then.” A big smile spread on your face. An equally big smile tugged on his lips and those fangs came into view again. You eagerly tugged him down and crashed your lips against his. Eddie sighed into the kiss and made a whining sound. He cupped your jaw and pulled you impossibly close. 

You were still wrapping your head around the fact that you had Eddie back. The fact that you could kiss him again, be able to hold him in your arms. For some reason, you were lucky enough to get a second chance and you couldn’t be more grateful. Eddie’s lips moved against yours. He parted slightly to slip his tongue into your mouth but one of his teeth poked the tender skin of your lip. You yelped.

“What happened? Did I hurt you?” Eddie fawned over you. His thumbs brushed under your lips. 

“No, no! You just poked me.” You were breathless after the kiss. 

“Can’t even kiss my girlfriend without hurting her.” He mumbled.  

“Hey, I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.” You pushed his chin up so he’d look at you again. “We’ll get through this together, Eds. I promise.” You kissed him again, sweetly and softly. Just what he needed after being stuck in this terrible situation. 

When he pulled away, he hugged you tight. You pressed your cheek against his chest, slightly missing the steady beat of his heart. You rubbed your hands on his back. “I love you, too. I never got to say it back.” Eddie said. 

You closed your eyes and let yourself forget about Vecna, the Upside Down, and vampires. 

You had your Eddie back. 

And you were going to be okay. 

[jinxthequeergirl]

I'll Be In Denial (for at least a little while)

Ash williams x reader

Summary: after a deadite battle goes sideways you find yourself changing as does the rest of the group but Ash doesn't seem ready to let go

Warning: slight body horror, typical ED violence, swearing, angst

(Tis my favorite to write ash losing reader i love putting him through more peril, this was also suppised to be part of the ash series i was gonna write but eh we'll see)

~~~~~~

The smell of blood was something you where familiar with, as was the feeling of it covering your skin, matting down your hair to your face. It became a normal thing that surrounded your life. The only thing that made this specific bloody incident different was the taste of it on your tounge. That, and the indescribable hunger you felt for it deep in the pit of your stomach, an aching,bone twisting hunger consumed your entier being this time.

"Y/n?" You froze at the voice, seeming to come back to your senses at the sound of your name being called. "Holy shit..." You didn't bother looking up at kelly, you couldn't pry your eyes away from your hands infront of you let alone the deadite corpse sprawled infront, chest ripped open insides pouring out onto the floor and gripped in your hands.

"Y/n? What happened?" You heard her approching you. "I...i don't know...i.." You started to shake the chunks of meat in your hands falling to the floor and you scooted away.

Kelly knelt next to you putting a hand on your shoulder trying to ease you. "Take it easy...I'll go get ash-"

Ash..he couldn't see you like this. God knows how he would react, he lost his mind when you died last week. Going crazy with worry and greif and doing anything to bring you back, even bargaining with Ruby. you couldn't imagine how he would react to see what resurrection had done to you. You couldn't tell him till you figured out how to fix this. Till you where sure you'd be ok.

"No no no..kelly you have to promise me you won't tell him! Don't say anything till I figure this out...please.." She looked at you, blood covering your mouth hands and the front of your shirt and she felt scared. Scared that this was happening to her friend whatever this was.

She sighed, pulling her jacket off using the sleeve to clean the blood from your mouth then pulled it over you cover the stain on your shirt. "Ok..but we figure it out together and if nothing changes...we tell him."

That was month ago and you where still hungry, when there was any trouble with deadites it was like hunting them for sport. Something in you would change and you would almost black out and before you knew it you where hunched over a deadites body ripping through it gnawing on their hearts. Each time kelly would find you and help you get back to yourself.

It only got worse on top of that. You would get hungry at night and would find yourself sitting in bed staring at Ash, listening to his heart wondering how easy it would be to rip him apart right then and there. You started sleeping on the couch. Scared of what you might do if you aren't able to catch yourself in time.You stopped eating real food, you had no appetite for it.

You found yourself staring at your reflection, You felt like you where dying all over again. You where pretty sure your skin was peeling off, your eyes where pretty sure you where catching your eyes glazing over pitch black.

"You have to tell him." You stared blankly at the wall, knees drawn to your chest as you sat on the edge of Ash's bed once again covered in that familiar red substance. "He's worried about you." Tears welled in your eyes as you listened to kelly talk.

"If you don't I will!"

That was weeks ago and she had stopped bringing it up, Ash didn't say anything to you either, you assumed she let it go until she dragged you to dinner. A real sit down dinner with everyone. Ash kissed the top of your head as he walked passed you to get to his seat.

"Ta-da!" Pablo said as he presented everyone a plate of home cooked food. Your stomach lurched at the sight. Not only had it been years since you had a real home cooked meal on top of that you couldn't even enjoy it. You stared helplessly at the plate then at kelly.

It was a set up.

"Ah thanks buddy this looms delicious!" Ash said picking up his fork and beginging to dig in. everyone around you started eating while you started at the plate your hands folded in your lap.

"C'mon baby how often do we get to have food like this? Eat up." Ash said nudging your arm slightly.

"I'm actually not very hungry." You said avoiding his eyes. "Well thats ok, i can save it for you if you-"

"No c'mon Y/n just a bite." Kelly urged interrupting pablo.

"If shes not hungry then she doesn't have to eat kelly.." Ash said trying to defend you.

"She hasn't eaten anything in days Ash! Loom at her shes sick!"

"I'm fine!"

"Shes fine."

"If you are so fine then eat something!"

You tensed up now griping the table cloth. "Kelly..."

"No seriously y/n if you are so "fine" then just take a bite and I'll drop it!"

There it was again thay feeling of falling out of yourself, like watching your body feom the outside as it acted on its own. You grabbed the fork next to you and plunged it into the table inches from kellys hand.

"Drop it now you fucking bitch or I'll make you!"

Everyone went silent. Eyes on you as you leaned across the table hand still gripping the handle of the utensils. Eyes inhumanly black. Everyone was silent, no one dared to move.

"Y/n? Sweetie?" Ash gingerly reached out to touch your arm. You exhaled letting go of the fork and throwing Ash's arm off of you before running up the stairs.

The three at the table stayed quiet for a few more moments. "Why did you push her?"

"Really ash? This is my fault? You are so cluless shes been sick for month! Something happened to her and you are either to stupid to notice or you just dont give a fuck!"

"Of course I noticed! You think im that lousy i wouldn't notice the change in the person i love!?"

Kelly paused. "You knew?..why didn't why haven't you done anything?"

"Because I wanted her to come to me!" Ash started tearing up. "I knew something was happening to her and i knew it meant I was going to lose her again! I can't..I don't want to lose her not again..."

You lied in bed, curling up in a ball feeling lousy. You tried to ignore the knock on the door hoping if you didn't answer they would leave but of course, it was Ash's room. You flinched at the door opening. And couldn't help yourself from speaking once the door shut again.

"I'm so scared Ash...I don't know whats happening to me I feel so sick and horrible...I thought If i could just pretend it would go away and I would be fine, but then i started getting worse and I'm so scared I'll hurt you! I mean I was so close to hurting kelly tonight..what if i get worse what happenes if i do one night lose control and-"

You stopped talking when you felt the bed dip and ash wrap his arms around you. You finally broke down crying as hard as you could. "I'm so scared...I.."

"Shh..i know and i promise you we'll figure this out. I'm not letting anything bad happen to you again."

[lockefanfic]

I'm back, and:

I'll get to all the asks in my inbox soon!

I'll get back to writing soon (tm)

I have finished Persona 5, and I have (spoiler warning) 10 thoughts after the break.

So for context, I played and finished Persona 5 Royal on PC. I ended up putting 95 hours into it, beating the main storyline and doing a good amount of the Mementos quests/confidant storylines, but I didn't do the third semester (more on that later). Thoughts:

What a game. I'm a pretty big JRPG guy, and this ranks up there in my top 5 of all time. Easily. Great characters, great storyline (albeit with what I thought was some filler towards the end of the game), really fun (if basic) battle system. And it's easily the most stylish JRPG I've ever played, and a lot of that has to do with the comic-style UI and god-tier soundtrack. Loved the game, loved the characters. After I finished it, I felt like I was saying goodbye to legit friends I'd come to know pretty well over the past couple of weeks.

Makoto best girl, don't @ me. Sorry Kasumi/Sumire. Makoto was the real Phantom Thief, cuz she infiltrated my palace and stole my heart. I legit awwww-ed at a couple of points in her romance. Hifumi close third place behind Makoto and Kasumi/Sumire.

I didn't do the third semester because how the fuck was I supposed to know you had to max out Maruki's confidant level just to unlock it? I went into this playthrough blind, and Maruki was always kind of sus (I kind of assumed he and Akechi he'd end up being a big bad and I guess I was half-right), but I had no idea that a whole 20+ hours of the game was locked behind his confidant level. By the time I realized it, I was already long past the date he left the school, and there was no way I was going to re-play 80+ hours just to unlock the third semester. Bah. I think it's crazy that they would lock most of the new content behind a pretty random confidant that you can easily pay zero attention to. Shame, because Kasumi/Sumire and Akechi are locked to the third semester and Kasumi/Sumire might've had a better chance of becoming best girl if, y'know, she could actually join my party permanently.

Was Haru even a character? I'm pretty sure some of the lesser non-party confidants got more screentime and background than she did. I didn't use her much either, because Makoto, Ann, and even Futaba were more interesting characters. How adorable (and relatable) is Futaba lol. When she called Mishima an NPC I legit laughed out loud. She destroyed him.

And on the topic of Okumuras, fuck you Okumura boss battle. It was the one part of the game where I had to turn the difficulty down.

WHY COULDN'T I ROMANCE SAE edit: for god's sake I could romance my homeroom teacher but not her? c'mon.

I watched a video about how the characters are much more comfortable in the Metaverse instead of the real world, and damn, it really resonated with me. This game had a lot to say about masks and social/societal pressure and hierarchy and things like that, and I found myself saying damn, that's so true more times than I could count. A large part of why I grew so attached to the characters and their struggles was because in a lot of ways, I saw myself in them.

Loved how real and accurate Tokyo (and the in-game world) was. Loved the references to popular chains, specific streets, and small things like brand names. I giggled irl at the nerds walking around in Akihabara with their bags of merch until I realized I've been those nerds a few times and then I got semi-offended, lol.

Akechi was sus from the start. I mean, was anyone actually surprised when he did the heel turn? At least he had his anime last stand, even if the team went from "you betrayed us you asshole" to "omg akechi nooooo what a noble sacrifice sadface" pretty quickly.

This was my first Persona game and the entire calendar/time cycles were really interesting. The other games have a similar system, right? Should I bother playing Persona 4 or just wait for Persona 6? Is Persona 5 Strikers any good?

Anyway, that concludes my little hiatus from Tumblr. I have a few things on the go irl so I probably won't be as active on here as I was previously, but I'll always be around, even if I'm not posting every day like I used to.

I'm going to be hopefully finishing up a couple of fics I've started, and I've come up with a few ideas for some sequels/new fics (Gaeul sequel because I'm an IVE fan now), so stay tuned.

Love you all, and hope you're all being excellent to yourselves and to each other. <3

[straight4joekeery]

Teach Me How To Love In Your Own Lyrics

(Part eight)

Prev. Part one

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next week went by slow. Without literally all of his friends he had nothing to do. It was sad and really lonely honestly. So Steve did what any reasonable lonely human would do: get a pet.

He couldn’t get a dog they were way too much work. He had a poodle growing up and it was the most annoying dog ever. He definitely didn’t want to deal with that again. He would get a fish, but they aren’t that entertaining. Reptiles were horrifying and he would easily lose a rodent. So that left him with one option.

On Tuesday he went shopping. He went to the local pet store and bought everything he needed, or rather the cat needed. He bought all of the basic necessities plus a gigantic cat tower, a few too many toys, a harness (because why not?), and a normal amount of cat outfits (only like 25). $200 dollars later the pet store said he’d be able to pick up the kitten on Thursday. The cat was only a month old and was currently named Archie. He knew he was going to change his name, but he didn’t know what to change it to. The cat was all black except for his white paws. Which yes black cats were are supposed to be unlucky, but considering what he’d been through, an unlucky cat was the least of his concerns.

That Wednesday was the longest day of his life. It felt even lonelier in his house. He eventually decided the best way to spend his day was painting random things in his house. Which was an extremely good Idea surprisingly. When he was on his 10th object it was 9 pm (and he’d happily go to bed at 9 pm). Those ten items included: two mugs, little doodles on his mirror, the cup he keeps his toothbrush in, a plant pot, the watering can, a mason jar, his hairspray can, a ring tray, and last but certainly not least a guitar pick. He wasn’t the best artist so most were just ombrés and splatters.

When he woke up the next morning he immediately got dressed and ready. He couldn’t stand one more second of being ‘Sad Sack Steve’. He ran straight out to his car… but immediately had to go back inside because he forgot his keys. But then he was actually on his way.

He finally made it to the store and oh. Oh my god that was the cutest kitten he’d ever seen. He quickly finished all the nonsense paperwork and went home with a cat in his passenger seat. That’s when it finally hit him that this was a living being, that he had to take care of. That was… weird. A lot of responsibility. And plus he was going up to Indy tomorrow. What was he going to do? He supposed he could talk to his neighbor Amy and ask her to check on him. Amy was weird (to put it in literally the nicest was possible) but it’s better than nothing.

When he pulled in his driveway he walked next door to Amy’s. Thankfully she agreed. He thanked her a thousand times then ran back to the house, cat in hand. The cat was loud. Like extremely loud. But that was a good thing. It wouldn’t be so quiet all the time. Just in that moment, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Steve! Are you okay?”

“Eds? Yeah I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Robin called you like twenty times and when she gave up she called me so I could call you because apparently ‘Steve is way more likely to pick up the phone to you’. Did she tell you she makes me call her each time I get to a new hotel just so she can have each hotels number?” The cat was now meowing like crazy.

“Uhhh no she didn’t. Do you know why she called?”

“She said she just wants to make sure you’re going to Indy tomorrow. Steve… what’s that noise?

“I have a hypothetical.”

“Okay…? What is it?”

“Say I got a little black kitten. What would be a good name for it?”

…

“Hypothetically though.”

“I mean I’d personally name it Ozzy, but I know you personally wouldn’t name-“

“That’s perfect! Hypothetically.”

“Sure. Well I can’t wait to see this hypothetical cat!”

“Yeah yeah. Okay I should call Robin. Bye Eddie.”

“Bye Stevie. Tell Ozzy I said hello.”

“Will do.” He misses him. He misses him a lot. Blah blah blah this is a spiel we’ve all heard one too many times.

He called Robin back and told her that he was going to be there tomorrow. And about Ozzy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ready for round two?” He called out the window.

“Of course!” Vickie yelled as they hopped in the car, “looking good again Harrington!”

“Why, thank you.” They drove back to the bar. They didn’t have a tape in so they just talked. Talked about everything and nothing. When they arrived Vickie pulled him aside.

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry if this is weird, you don’t have to answer, but do you think you’re going to end up with Eddie?” She was right. That was weird.

“Uh honestly no. He’s not gay.” She frowned at that.

“Well I personally strongly disagree but if think that, why didn’t you dance with anyone last week?” Good question. He however didn’t know the answer to that.

“I don’t know Vick. I just felt like I had to,” why? Why did he think he had to, “maybe…maybe it was just in case he wasn’t. I didn’t want to chance not being able to be with him. Which I know is stupid because it will never happen.”

“Hey,” she placed he hand on his arm, “that’s not stupid. Again I do think you are wrong,” she sighed. How. How could she think that? What gave her a reason to? “But if you don’t think that, go have fun. Dance with people. Don’t waste you’re time chasing over someone who you believe you will never catch up to.” As much as he hated to admit it, she was right.

“Okay. Let’s go. I promise I’ll let loose a bit.” She smiled and linked their arms as they walked inside.

“There you are!” Robin called, “i thought I was going to file two missing person reports!” They walked back to the same barstools they sat at last time and there he was. Trent. He didn’t remember exactly what he did to Steve. But he remembered that he hated him. No clue why. Might have just been angry drunk Steve for all he knew.

“Hey guys!” He smiled at them. Especially Steve. For a weird amount of time, “what can I get for you guys?” Robin was already drinking her Dirty Shirley. She was addicted to those things. She said ‘they are like Shirley Temples but better!’ He was not going to tell her that was the point.

“Can I just get a beer? I don’t really care what kind,” Vickie said. Didn’t peg her as the beer type, but hey! Never judge a book by its cover right?

“Yeah, me too.” Steve said.

“Alrighty! Give me one second!”

“Look,” Vickie said, “I love Trent but he uses the weirdest words sometimes.” Oh! That’s why he hated him last time.

“I noticed that! Last week he said ‘yikes’ like audibly and I almost gagged! I didn’t know people actually said that!” Steve exclaimed (but quietly so he wouldn’t hear).

Robbin giggled, “one time he said my outfit was ‘tubular’,” they all laughed and twisted their faces in mock disgust. Just then he came back.

“Here y’a go!” They said thank you but he didn’t move. He just stayed there. Oh well at least Steve has a piece of eye candy now. God he was hot, “so Steve, what do you do for work?” Yay! More small talk. He knew just the way to this man’s heart. He tried everything to not hate him again.

“I’m a teacher. Junior history,” why’d he elaborate? He surely didn’t care.

“That’s so cool! My favorite class of all time was my junior history. It’s the only class I ever understood. My teacher was the only nice one in the building too.” Woah. He did care. Weird.

“Cool…” cool? Really? That was lame. (LAME??? STEVE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU.)

Trent smiled at Steve for a second to long for it to be ‘bro like’, “well let me now if you guys need anything!” And he walked away. He wasn’t sure how to feel about him.

“Wow Steve!” Robin applauded, “look at you go. He was totally into you!”

“Yeah I could tell.” He looked at Vickie and blinked as a cry for help. She just shrugged. Just then the first man of the night walked up to Steve.

“Hey! My names Adam, I was uh wondering if you wanted to dance maybe? My boyfriend… ex-boyfriend just cheated on me and left.” Yikes (REALLY???). He looked towards Vickie and she mouthed, ‘you promised’.

“Yeah. Sure.” Adams face lit up. He held out a hand and he took it.

Now in Robins exact words, ‘you’re dance moves could kill! And by kill I mean make someone want to shoot their eyes out’ which only offended him to the point he cried later that night. But it was fine. Everything was fine.

“Uh Adam?” He looked up at Steve with questioning eyes. Adam was cute. Like adorable cute not I-want-to-rip-his-clothes-off cute. “I literally can’t dance. Like at all.”

He laughed, “me neither honestly. But if we hide in the crowd no one would ever see us!” He pulled Steve to the middle of Probably a good hundred people. He smiled. Like actually smiled. He liked this kid.

“How old are you Adam?” He immediately started blushing.

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Twenty-six”

“Cool. You like don’t have a boyfriend right?”

He snorted, “No, I’ve actually only officially dated one person, and that was about ten years ago.”

He laughed, “well that guy,” he nodded towards the door, “was my third. And obviously i have some special kind of charm because this same situation happened every. Single. Time.”

“Jeez. That really sucks. I’m sorry.”

He smiled, “nah it’s fine. Never actually liked that guy at least. He was just in a band that was popular at some point and died down,” he laughed, “if I’m being honest I thought I could use him for publicity. That did not turn out well though.” Huh. That’s strange.

He laughed, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just kinda coincidental. This one guy that I’ve literally been pinning over for years just left to go on tour.”

“No it’s fine! That is kinda weird. And that really does suck… I don’t think I got you’re name?”

“It’s Steve.”

“Well Steve I’m sorry about that. Does he like you back?” He was convinced neither of them were actually in to each other. But that was okay. He was a super nice kid. (He was literally only three years younger but he was still going to call him kid.)

“Well I am sure he doesn’t but all of my friends think otherwise. Plus I only realized I liked him when he left.”

“Well I know I’m a complete stranger and have no right to say this, but they are probably right. All of my friends told me to stay away Tony because he was no good. And here we are,” Steve didn’t know why he was so calm about this, “hey uh Steve i better get going but,” he took a pen out of his back pocket and wrote on Steve’s arm, “call me. We should hang out. You’re cool.”

“I will. Thanks.” He nodded and walked back to the girls. They were literally jumping up and down.

“How’d it gooo?” Vickie said grabbing his hands.

“Good! He was nice! And we’re going to hang out soon,” he said waving his arm. They gave each other a weird look.

“Hang out?” Robin asked looking very disappointed.

“Yeah. We didn’t click like that. But it’s fine. At least I have more than four friends in the area now!”

“Who’s the fourth?”

“Ozzy, obviously.”

“Obviously,” she rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I had my time. Now it’s your turn, go. Go have fun! But not to much fun!” He called as they ran away. He took a swig of his beer that he’d left there.

“Young love strikes once again!” Trent called from behind him. This dude needed to stop sneaking up on him. But this time he smiled back at him. He just kept staring at him. Like a concerning amount. And he noticed, “penny for your thoughts?”

“Nothing it’s just..” screw it, “want to dance?” His face got even brighter than Adam’s

“I’d be honored. But I only have like five minutes because I do work here,” they grinned at each other. They made their way to the people again. He caught Vickie looking at him and giving him a thumbs up. He just rolled his eyes at her. “I got the impression last time that your weren’t too fond of me.”

“Sorry it’s just that I get really easily irritated when im drunk. But then I can just switch up and immediately become the giggly drunk that we all aspire to be.”

“I get it. My ex was like that. She was… interesting.” He thought it was so amazing how open people could be about their sexuality’s here. He also just now noticed that they were in fact not dancing but just standing there. Which he was not mad about because again: he could not dance. “I think you’re really neat Steve.” Neat?? Okay this dude was kind of, sort of, really really weird with his vocabulary. But as we established with Eddie: Steve liked weird. (He’s literally been with two dudes that have at least been a little interested, and he’s still Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Edd-)

“You too.” They just stood there looking at each other for a long time. Before Trent leaned in a bit. Woah. This is weird. What is happening.

“Stevie, can I?”

Did he hear him correctly? Did he just call him Stevie? It sounded oddly romantic. The word were ringing in his ears. Oddly. Romantic. But it couldn’t be. That’s all Eddie ever called him. He guesses pet names were meant to be flirty. But no. There’s no way. Eddie could not like him. (THERE IS A MAN IN FRONT OF YOU!! SNAP OHT OF IT!)

He realized he hadn’t responded for a while, “I’m so sorry,” he said. And ran off. He ran outside. He needed air. There was no way. Why was he even thinking this? Did Eddie like him back. He suddenly remembered the phone call from last week.

Okay, love you Eddie. Goodnight.

Goodnight Stevie.

How could he be so stupid? Why did he say that. But he didn’t freak out when he did. He didn’t say it back. But he didn’t say it was weird. And he called him that stupid name again. He thinks back over Vickie’s, Robin’s, and even Adam’a words. There was no way this was happening. Eddie might actually like him. Was he? Wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next

FINALLY. this is the dream I had. This was what this whole fic was based around. I just reread this and realized how choppy and weird the ending was but oh well. I didn’t know how else to make it work. I also didnt at all plan to add Ozzy. I zone out when I write and before I knew it boom he was there. Every steddie fic needs some sort of animal named Ozzy tho. Also I will never stop apologizing for how short these are. It’s actually not that short but still. I’ve been super unmotivated and tired. Really tired. I also would like to make it clear that I hate Trent. He did nothing wrong I just don’t like him. This is a hill I will die on. Oh well. Love Adam tho. Also one of the funniest things to me is whatever trope you think this is, you’re wrong 😈. Anywayyssss. Comment or reblog if you want to be tagged in future parts! And thanks for reading

This will be on AO3 soon I just need to find a time to do it. It will also be extended there most likely.

Tag list: @asbealthgn @queerbeansworld @bird-with-pencils @vecnuthy @artiststarme @captain-winter-wolf-aehs @piningapple @rowendyss @steve-themom-harrington @lfaewrites @azreadytodie @thequeenrainacorn @pastel-dreamscape @importanttimemachinenerd @jehneeg @swagaliciousmarie @mightbeasleep @krazyperson @milkshakeflower @fando-random @bumblebeecuttlefishes @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @fluffyreturns @scheodingers-muppet @wonderland-girl143-blog

[chidoroki]

Hell’s Paradise EP2

aka: cornucopia bloodbath

Are we gonna start off each episode with the topic of beheading? We’re two for two.

So Sagiri actually wanted to become an executioner because she saw how perfectly her father made his cuts.. I don’t necessarily wanna call that cute but hurray for following in her father’s footsteps I guess?

Oh, good to see she’s not completely heartless about the whole process. Well, I imagine beheading others would instill fear, grief and other emotions into anyone and would probably take many attempts, or several years even, to not feel pain anymore while doing so.

Also, those lifeless bodies we saw in the OP/ED surrounding her now have context with them being her doubts, like right now as this red-haired man explains with the truth reflecting in her blade.

I shall never skip this OP by the way and yes I’m gonna comment about it each week. I heard the full version of it the other day and it’s just as lovely.

Ooohh finally getting little looks at some of our cast like Chobei, Yuzuriha, Nurugai and Tamiya. Same with some of the swordsmen with Shion, Fuchi, and Toma somewhere I’m sure.

All the criminals are throwing their rage at the shogun while Gabimaru is just over here complaining that he can’t breathe with that paper mask over his face.

This dude unrolls a certificate to show them the official pardon but it’s hilarious since none of the criminals can actually see it with their eyes covered.

Yuzuriha knows of our hollow man hm? & despite myself not knowing a thing a out her, I think her voice suits her.

SPEAKING OF VOICES, Gabimaru shares a va with Langa (sk8) and I dunno how it completely slipped my mind last week or how I didn’t pick up on it.

Eh so weird, that poor dude with the flowers blooming out of him is actually still alive?

I’m not entirely sure why, but Nurugai reminds me of Dororo? Maybe it’s the character design somehow.

Oh good lord, large tattoo man just got beheaded with no questions asked.

“Act out in the island, and you’ll be beheaded on the spot.” Yeah that checks out.

“Naturally, if your monitor dies, whether by accident or homocide, you’ll be beheaded.” Glad we mentioned that little bit. But if by some crazy chance they all die, then no one can behead the criminals, right?

“If your monitor isn’t with you, you won’t be allowed onto the return boat.” Oh good, I’m glad we’re answering all my questions right as they come up. So y’all can’t just kill them for funsies because I’m sure they were all just thinking that.

Ya know I was thinking that, there’s way too many criminals here right now and not enough asaemon to monitor them, of course they’re gonna fight for a spot. That and a lot of them just look like randomly placed characters.

Ahha, and looks like our bastard Chobei is gonna get a head start on reducing their numbers. And I know he doesn’t share a va with Bakugo, but that’s all I hear with him, just a little. I have heard him in other things but nothing I remember too clearly.

The fact they can all fight rather well with their hands tied is kinda impressive, I won’t lie about that.

Oh? I assume our main cast are those with these red seals. The special ones with great abilities.

Our man Gabimaru is actually quite the legend huh? Yet he hasn’t move an inch since coming here.. he’s so chill. I love it.

Not me somehow getting Nozel and Noelle vibes when this Eizen man tells Sagiri she isn’t suited for this kind of job. Go prove him wrong girl!

Not that I want her end Gabimaru’s life, but I hope our girl manages to get over her doubts..somehow.

Goddamn, slicing three of them one after another like that..

“Not killing people if you don’t have to is the most natural thing in the world.” Gabimaru you’re such a kind soul.

Holy shit man! You cut the dude’s throat with your bare hands how??

And now he’s just bit another guy’s throat apart.. Gabimaru is literally a beast.

Oohh the scene from the trailers! With him standing in the water with the bodies around him!

“Is it possible that what I needed wasn’t the strength not to fear killing but the resolve to take on the burden of that fear and the lives I took?” Ah perhaps, I’m sure Sagiri will find her answer eventually.

Like Gabimaru last ep, I didn’t expect her to actually have emotions like this. It just didn’t seem like something an executioner would show ya know? So I’m happy we got a look inside her mind and past this time.

Ah so aside from our cast there’s seems to be a couple more criminals joining the party that I’m not familiar with.

Same with the other executioners too, but I finally spotted Toma and got a clearer look at Tenza!

“There is no danger.” Well that’s a blatant lie if I ever saw one.

[madnessreruns]

WIPs and Requests

Collection of my current requests and wips, as requested by anon

Last Updated: 2/5/23

WIPs

Red = Requested

Still love you however

Gotham! Ed coming out to G/N reader as Genderfluid

Title TBA

Gotham! Jervis enemies to lovers with fellow rogue reader after a night of drinking

Proud of you

Cassandra Cain enemies to lives trope with an fem! ex villain turned vigilante trope

Requests

Patisilence -> Fem!Reader and he are on a special date and had a great time. S/O wants to ask him something but the phone interrupts it. She takes it and comes back looking taken back, she needs to move out of Gotham for half a year (your choice why). He doesn't like that, they start to argue and they kinda break up. He stops by her apartment just to take some of his stuff when he knocks down her purse and from inside a small box falls out. He opens it and inside is an engagement ring. Basically that day she wanted to propose before the phone call and now she sees it as useless. 

Anonymous -> Ansjnsjssjd I really hope I’m not inconveniencing you by asking this, I just loooooooooved your take on yandare Corpsecrow. How does he react when the reader (gender neutral or male) starts developing Stockholm syndrome and starts returning his affection?

Danielle-Marie -> Thank you for answering my question :) Could I please request a fic if possible for Gotham Knights. Where the guys have been in love with the reader (Batwoman) for years but then it becomes a competition between them as Barbara accidentally tells them that the reader loves them too 💙

tetchnicalities -> I would really like Gotham!Zsasz with an explosives expert wannabe rogue s/o (Viksen). I love the dark, controlling stockholm syndrome stuff!! Maybe that leads into a corruption vibe? Violence is encouraged  (Especially since Viksen is a major brat!) Any format that you fancy! Tysm!!! 🦊💥

Anonymous -> My ask is pretty nsfw, so I’ll understand if you don’t wanna do it, but if I can, can I request BTAS Scarecrow stalking the (gender neutral or male) reader, only for the reader to realize and start putting on a show for him while they’re getting into their nightwear and to later let him know they know he’s there by blowing a kiss at him or something? Preferably with the focus on how John reacts to the whole scene

Anonymous -> May I please ask for BTAS Scarecrow with a (gender neutral) reader who sees him as the most wonderful being alive, practically worships him, praises him countlessly, practically sees him as a person as art and is very physically affectionate? I hope I explained that well

Anonymous -> Could I request Gotham knights headcanons of Harley Quinn finding out her little sister is part of the batfamily and dating one of them ;)

Anonymous -> Hi!! I lovee your writing but I haven't really seen you write for The Stanley Parable 👀 Can you do an nsfw Narrator x Fem!Reader ? I don't really have any specific ideas for it so the rest is up to you! Thank you!!

Anonymous -> Hi! Uh- Can you do a fanfication (I think that's how you say? English is not my first language) of Zatanna Zatara? Being something after a magic show of hers, I'm kind of sad this week and would like to read something with her, I really enjoyed your writing on the Harley, Ivy and Selina headcanons. Thank you

Anonymous -> May I pretty please ask for a scene where the (gender neutral) reader (scarecrow’s s/o) accidentally gets exposed to fear toxin and as a result BTAS Scarecrow finds out that their worst fear is losing him? How does he take it?

Anonymous -> hey,r u okay? may i request a gotham!Nygma x reader,something like lazy Ed lying on reader,idk, something cozy,I love your writing,thank u so much💗

Anonymous -> If it’s okay with you could you maybe write something about BTAS Johnathan and Jervis getting crazy glow ups after being exposed to some of ivy’s experimental pheromones and how they’d react to everyone flocking after them all of a sudden?

Anonymous -> My ask is gonna be hella specific: BTAS Scarecrow with a trans guy s/o who’s self conscious about his height (he’s literally 5 feet and half an inch), his feminine form, his voice, his facial structure and genuinely believes he’s an unlovable wretch due to his looks and intense anxiety that he’s convinced is very annoying to the people around him and therefore downplays his worries or doesn’t talk about them

Anonymous -> Hey, could I request a piece about Arkhamverse!Riddler having a GN reader as both a best friend and co worker? I think it would be really interesting to see how it plays out

Anonymous -> I just had this dream and thought it would make a good, but nsfw request: if it’s ok, can you write male reader body worshipping and then giving Arkham Knight Scarecrow anal? (The reader is the one penetrating)

[gins-potter]

What did you think of all the OC episodes this week?

I thought they were solid!

I know it's not a popular opinion but Archer continues to be one of the most interesting characters to me, and I love watching how he interacts with patients, his progression and regression in equal turns, the way he opens up to Dr Charles - it's all very interesting to me. I also like Grace and I thought it was interesting seeing how her good ideas could have not great execution in the ED. Obviously Med is building up to something with Dayton but I wouldn't mind seeing her stick around even if he doesn't.

Fire.... oh Fire. I mean, they gave me Casey back, how could I not love that episode? It was so fucking good having him back on our screens but also kind of confusing, some of the choices they made were certainly A Choice. Am I crazy for thinking that maybe Jesse Spencer is coming back to Fire? I just think having Boden ask him so directly when he's coming back and having him say he'd love to come back once a few things fall into place, plus they've clearly sped up the timeline of the Darden boys if Ben is already looking at colleges? And then fucking Brettsey. I mean, they're obviously still in love with one another. Like it would have been so easy to have Matt have met someone else and give us that closure so Sylvie can move on with Boring McBoring Face. Instead they admitted that he's still into her and she's clearly not over him either. Why why why would they do that if he's not coming back? Anyway, I'll stop ranting about it now, I'm probs being delusional af, but that's the fun part.

And oh man, Gallo, I really felt for him in this ep - what a powerful storyline, I actually felt myself tearing up at parts. The only eh bit was the ending because the cliffhanger (if you could call it that) felt a bit jarring. I'm assuming we're following up with it in the next ep, but we usually don't get endings like that outside of the finale and mid-season finales. Like I said, just a bit jarring.

And fucking PD. Motherfucking PD. I mean @fighterkimburgess was completely correct when they said that it was going to be the best four minutes of my life, because it fucking was. BURZEK ARE BACK BABY, and they're being cute, and they're being hot af, and they're being domestic. AND MAKAYALA IS CALLING ADAM DAD. And just oh my god, it feels so good to have them back together on our screens.

And for once I thought the rest of the episode/the case lived up to the personal stuff going on. Everything with Sam was so tense, I really feel like she's going to do something with either Makayla or Kim, or both, because I don't think it was a coincidence that she found Adam right near where Makayla was, or them mentioning that she was following him for a while. I'm assuming the finale is going to be Becks related and I for one am very excited to see Adam get to feature in it.

[wilxllow]

Ocs for a story I'm working on!

The basic rundown of the story right now since it's still a work in progress is just six friends in a school called Echidna Academy that is for greek monsters just trying to survive everyday plus the occasional drama from the mortal world!

Basic chacther rundown!

Nicholas 'Nick' Riverawood

• He's the joker/flirt of the group and tries to keep everything light. He is also the rich friend since any satyr with the last name 'Wood' is like old rich money and super important. He is also very protective of his friends an family. He's also got powers that he doesn't really like but I plan to get into the powers on a later posr, so just know he doesn't like his powers. He is closet with Ollie. He's dating Ian.

Jeanette 'Janet' Riverawood.

• I'm gonna be honest here and say her whole story is still a work is progress. In the original story from when I was way younger she was just the girl version of Nick, so she really didn't have a lot of chacther to begin with. But I do know that she's the one most entangled with the mortal world. I plan for her to eventually start dating Ed White, a mortal dude. But that's all right now. I also plan for her and Q to be a pair that work together.

Qinution 'Q' Maneerattana

• Okay! So, Q and his little brother Stewart got mauled by a cycpols when they were younger and their father built their prosthetics and Q's fake eye. Q also got facial reconstruction surgery after the attack. Anyways, Q's powers focus around the idea of decay which I'll explain more in the power post. He's dating Ollie and they are like the 'it couple' for the satyrs at their acdemny! I plan for him and Janet to be a pair of friends.

Ian Santos

• she is an absolute sweetheart! She's really sensitive and we love them! She's a little naive but that's okay! She also ends up being the most level-headed and tries to stop everyone from getting weeks dentiotion each week. She is closet with Alexander which is funny because they are total opposite.

Oliver 'Ollie' Vázquez Jiménez Blackwood

• The first chacther I ever created! She is a wild child. She's got crazy in their veins and it's everyone else's problem! They spend a lot of their time messing with people and fucking around in chemistry. They've also got powers they don't like! Which again I'll get more into in the powers post. He's closet with Nick. She's also dating Q.

Alexander Jonah Erickson

• The local boy from South Carolina that traveled to Pennsylvania to go to a worldwide renowned academy because he had good grades. Basically he's smart but they've got a real nasty temper. He's working on. He's also outrageous strong which does not go well with his short fuse but again he's working on it. He's closet with Ian. He's dating Hanna Apple, a dryad of a Apple Tree.

And that's all for now! But I'm really excited to post more for them!

[thoughts-onmars]

Occcct

he he he

Hi Mars,

We are typing this over because I thought I had saved a draft but then I went to retrieve it and it was gone. Those thoughts have passed now so I won't rewrite the whole 2 paragraphs but I will say that I miss my family and my old mornings where I used to take Alice to school and we would have a donut and coffee/hot chocolate date. I was looking forward to the day I would take both babies but things change, they moved and then I moved.

I know things have to change to make room for new memories and experiences but why are we having these great moments only to look back, reflect, and feel sadness. :( A sacrifice of getting older, moving away and starting your own life.

Sometimes I still feel like a little kid and I don't know why I have to live like this. I thought that I would stay local. I loved living where I was, the problem was that my habits were bad and I was tired of seeing people from high school too close around me. That couldn't be helped I guess because I work(ed) in a place a lot of people come to and it can't be helped.

My job isn't horrible. It just isn't fulfilling. What is fulfilling?

Writing a post like this on tumblr brings me way way way back to almost even 8th grade. 2008. Crazy!!! If i think back and see where my passion could be, maybe it would be in writing. I enjoy writing my feelings and thoughts out. I also enjoyed recording videos and editing them. Now it's a real career and I am still pretty youthful to venture into it but sometimes I feel like I am too late.

Anyway its 6:09 in the morning and I am about to call off in a bit to enjoy a nice 4 mile run and then maybe hit up a coffee shop.

October has just started. Today is only day 4. This month I have some minor goals:

Sober October

Run at least 2x a week

Gym 3x

Make more homecooked meals

I am really struggling with making meals. In a non food disorder way, I wish I could go on without having to eat and it is a shame that I say that because you would never hear me say something like that 2 years ago when I lived with my parents because my moms love language was food and cooking. I would say that I am actually a pretty decent cook. I remember when JP and I first started dating and I would go to his apartment in Indy and try and cook for him. I remember specifically trying to make some meatballs that I loved and I did not get them right.

BUT MEATBALLS?? Lol, yo gurl is Mexican and I was out here trying to make him some meatballs. That was like in 2015 and now in 2023 after being humbled by the meatballs, I watched my mom cook throughout those years and I learned a lot about the way she makes things and now I am pretty decent. I am a lazy girl though and was spoiled my whole life having meals ready for me every hour of the day.

I really have so many thoughts but as I keep this up (hopefully) maybe I can make this blog more attractive for myself so that I enjoy coming back to it like I used to. It just feels different on a laptop than on my phone in a really good way. Maybe I will start just taking my laptop to the coffee shop and typing my blogs out like this instead of writing.

Actually, I will probably still have to keep up with writing just to keep my handwriting in check

okay luverssssss

deucessss ~~~~~

[let-us-meet-aga1n]

I'M BACK WITH: 100 questions about tremolo answered because he deserves more appreciation after the whole clover thing (#fuckyouclover)

part 1/2!!

1. Are they a man or a woman? man. the father figure, if you will

2. Do you know how old they are? If yes, what’s the age gap? he's in his mid 40s, i'm 15. approximately 30 years lmao

3. What subject do they teach? orchestraaaaa let's go

4. Do you like the subject they are teaching? if i didn't, i would not still be taking this class!! yes! i love orchestra! so much so that i want to be an orchestral composer! crazy right?

5. What are your grades like for their subject? he genuinely doesn't have the heart to give anyone below an a+ soooooo

6. What is your favorite assignment they’ve set so far? since he doesn't give out "assignments" per se, i'm gonna say a piece of music! dives and lazarus from northumbrian suite (ian david coleman) was the first thing that came to mind. sure, it was an easy piece, but god did it invoke emotion...

7. What is your least favorite assignment they’ve set so far? front porch jam. it's a fiddle piece with straight 16th notes for the 1sts (me) played at 140 and it's literally all over the place... WE'RE AN ORCHESTRA TREMOLO NO FIDDLES IN SIGHT HERE THEY'RE CALLED VIOLINSSSSSS

8. Do they set homework often? like, normal homework? no. he only ever does that when he's not there for the day. but but but, he does give us at least 3 new pieces every 9 weeks, and we have to learn them by the end of it, so he does expect us to practice.

9. Is your TC generally liked as a teacher by their students? yes!! everyone loves him because he's such a dad and very kind and approachable

10. Is your TC close to any other students? so, the kids younger than me? idk, but my orchestra from last year, there was only one other person he was close to, and that was a senior 'cellist who graduated to go study music, so, as far as i know, i'm the last survivor heheheheh

11. How often do you have them for lessons? every other day during the school year

12. How long have you been taught by them? since 5th grade! (11)

13. What do they look like? white, bald man. very long beard. basically think of a stereotypical middle aged white man dad, and boom that's my orch teacher.

14. Do you typically find people who look like your TC attractive? no, because i don't find middle aged men attractive, let alone my teachers 🥰 it's literally 100% platonic and in a "i wish he were my dad :(" kinda way

15. What is your favorite feature of theirs? i mean, i don't really pay attention to physical features, but he has green eyes and the only reason i know that is the unbelievably high amount of times i have tried to communicate through blinking to him.

16. What is their hair like? What color and style is it? bald. just bald. BUT HE DID HAVE A MULLET DURING COVID AHAHAHAHAHAH- dark dark dark brown hair. borderline black.

17. What is their eye color? a swampy kinda green, but like not brown enough to be hazel if you know what i mean.

18. What would you describe their body type as being? middle aged white man.

19. How would you describe their style? again, middle aged white man. EXCEPT HE DOES WEAR A BOW TIE ALL THE DAMN TIME AND BEFORE I KNEW WHO HE WAS I CALLED HIM MR. BOW TIE.

20. Are there any clothes you think they look their best in? idk i've only seen him in casual wear and formal wear because that's all he ever wears???? only reason i've seen him in casual wear is because of NASHVILLE YAHOO!!!!

21. Would they be considered by most people to be physically attractive? he's a middle aged white man. next question.

22. Do they have any tattoos which you know about? nope!

23. Do they have any piercings which you know about? also nope!

24. Do they have any scars which you know about? not that i know about, but i do suspect he has sh-ed in the past because he said, and i quote, it's a "very familiar thing" for him... 🤨 he did NOT report me though so xoxo for valuing my privacy and NOT telling people without me knowing (ahem CLOVER ahem (fuck you you could've at least told me you bitch))

25. Which is the most attractive to you, the way they look or who they are inside? INSIDE DUH IT'S PLATONIC‼️ I CANNOT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGH IT'S A PLATONIC TC!!

26. What is their teaching style? (Eg. Strict or caring) very, very caring. he's always been student first, school later.

27. Do you like their teaching style? yes!!! he's the best 🥺

28. How would you describe their personality? very calm. he's very chill and i'm surprised at the amount of patience he has.

29. Do you usually find people with their personality type attractive? in boys my own age? yes. in men his age? i find it endearing and funny in a way

30. Do other people like your TCs personality? yes! everyone loves mr. bow tie!!!!

31. What is their sense of humor like? Do you think they’re funny? dad humor if you made it more millennial. he knows too much tbh. like, we tried hiding a word meaning from him (BFFR) and he went "okay, since y'all won't tell me i'm looking it up on urban dictionary." AND THE ENTIRE CLASS SCREAMED "NOOOOOO"

32. If you could change one thing about your TC, what would it be? i would change him to be my dad. :/

33. What’s a song that always makes you think of them? hmmm good question! because you're here - hatsune miku

34. What was your first impression of them? he intimidated the shit out of me, and i could not tell you why. i just remember he wanted to hear us all play solo at least once, and he came to the seat next to mine to listen to me, and i was literally QUIVERING in fear and he goes "do i scare you? you're shaking a lot..." and my 6th grade ass goes "i'm not shaking!" and he grabs my hands and says "calm down... trust me, it's not that big of a deal. i'm not grading you for it, i just want to hear you play, okay?" and i was like "....fine."

35. How long did it take you to fall for your TC? Was it instant attraction or did it take you getting close to them to realize you had a crush on them? again, absolutely no romantic attraction to this man at all. but, PLATONICALLY, it was around 7th grade when things started to get rough, and i knew his class was a safe space, so i just had to get to the fine arts hall, and at the end of it, he was always there in the orchestra room. so it took around 2 years.

36. What happened to make you realize you had a crush on them? again, not romantically, platonically, BUT it was when i started opening up and being vulnerable with him. after siren, i hadn't been able to do that with ANYONE. and you know what? he didn't yell at me for being a human, he didn't criticize, and he didn't even take pity on me, which i appreciated. he sat and listened. that was all i ever wanted. he never betrayed that trust, and that's when i realized i looked up to him a lot.

37. When you first met them, could you have ever imagined that your feelings would become so deep? no lmao if i told 5th grade me that in the span of 4 years you'd be able to open up about things like suicide and self-harm to him, she would've dropped out of his class SO FAST.

38. Did you ever think you’d have a crush on a teacher? no because i still don't! xoxo 🥰

39. Have you ever had any TCs before? platonic? yes. romantic? never. never ever ever.

40. Do you know anyone else who has a crush on your TC? i mean his wife is the only one that likes him in THAT way does that count

41. Do you know their relationship status? Are they married, in a relationship or single? married with children! that's why he's such a dad... because he literally IS on e😭

42. If they’re married or in a relationship, does this bother you? NOT ONE BIT. AGAIN, 100% PLATONIC.

43. Do they have any children? yes! 2 or 3 i can't remember how many...

44. What do you think they’d be like as a parent? SOBBING THE BEST PARENT EVER HE SEEMS SO SUPPORTIVE AND DOWN TO EARTH AND SWEET AS A PARENT

45. Do they have any pets you know about? YES he has a dog

46. Are your feelings for your TC platonic or romantic? PLATONIC I CANNOT OVERSTATE THIS ENOUGH

47. How would you describe your feelings for your TC? 3 words: the father figure.

48. If you had the chance to marry them tomorrow, would you take it? absolutely not <3

49. If they weren’t your teacher and the same age as you, do you think you’d be dating them? idk if he was my age.... i might fall for the nerdy geeky orchestra kid lmao