#yes prev post inspired me!!!

[puhpandas]

save the princess

[angelrari]

gossip girl · pt. xi

based on the tv series gossip girl

max verstappen / charles leclerc x socialité!reader

fc: elsa hosk (y/n) · taylor hill (léa) · barbara palvin (jolie)

a/n: hi! sorry this took long! my personal life has been a roller-coaster these past days, but here's a new part for you, i hope you enjoy it! 🤍

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· · · · ·

gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of monaco's elite.

f1drivers

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f1drivers max verstappen and charles leclerc arrive to the paddock for fp1-2 #lasvegasgp

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username ah yes the y/n lover duo

username i call them the edward and jacob of f1

username and y/n?

f1drivers apparently she came with max, but she used a private entrance

username i really need to know what's happening between them and y/n @/gossipgirl

· · · · ·

the city lights of las vegas' nightlife shined brightly and illuminated the whole town. the temperature had quickly dropped after the moon had risen, so you stood inside the red bull garage, with your hands in the pockets of the leather jacket you wore, waiting for max now the stewards had announced the fp1 session would not be resumed.

it had been a disaster. not even 10 minutes in, a loose drain cover had hit carlos' ferrari. max was right, this is a shitshow. luckily nobody had gotten hurt, but your blood ran cold at the thought of what could have happened.

"is carlos okay?". you heard max ask as soon as he got out of the vehicle.

"yes, he's fine".

max looked at you as he skillfully removed his helmet. it fascinated you: how the way the man who was always kind and tender turned into a hungry lion whenever he was in a racing suit and how his ocean blue eyes somehow turned a shade darker.

"seems like the start of fp2 will be delayed. they have informed us that they are checking all the drain covers now".

"great, fucking great". max said sarcastically.

"go rest, it seems like this will take long".

"yeah, yeah, i will".

max had waited until you were in his drivers' room, out of the public eye, to give you a chaste kiss. he had removed the top part of his elivs' inspired racing suit, that now was tied on his hips, and sat down on the sofa next to you.

"i have texted charles to ask him how carlos was". you told his as you intertwined your fingers with his. "and he told me everything is okay, but apparently he couldn't feel his legs for a few seconds".

"it doesn't make sense". he stated. "all that show for this? he could've got seriously injured".

"i know". you said. "it's scary to know they spent millions on this, but didn't even bother to check the drain covers twice".

"yeah". he tightened his embrace on your body. "aren't you tired? you didn't sleep well yesterday".

"kind of". you replied. "but it's okay, i'll drink another coffee later".

"and what are we going to do if you can't sleep later?".

"i'll wake you up because i will blame it on you".

"i'm sure i'll find a way to keep you entertained".

· · · · ·

yourusername has posted a story

caption: might have some trouble sleeping later

· · · · ·

max's fingers played with the buttons of your pink pajama shirt while yours caressed his damp hair. the smell of vanilla gel from the shower you had shared lingered on your bodies. now you laid on the hotel bed you shared, with your legs intertwined with his and feeling the beat of his heart against yours.

"you haven't had enough?".

"of you?". he said as he leaned in for a quick kiss. "never".

your hands moved to touch his face, feeling his stubble on your fingertips, you traced with your fingers the side of his jaw.

"i have to tell you something". you stated and his blue eyes starred into yours to look for a clue. "but promise me you won't get angry".

"that doesn't sound good".

"i know". you replied. "but nothing has happened, so don't worry".

"okay, i'm listening".

"yesterday charles confessed he still had feelings for me". you said. "when we were on our way back to the hotel, we were talking about léa and he told me he had realized that he didn't feel about her the same way he felt with me".

"he did?". he said and you nodded. "and how do you feel about it?".

"i love charles the way you love an old friend, i have many memories with him that are so dear to me". you explained. "but i know that what i once felt is not what i feel now and i'm sure that it's you the one who i want in my life".

"good". he said. "because i'm not letting you go anytime soon".

· · · · ·

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[huramuna]

beware the sapphire peak - chapter 1.

aemond targaryen x wife reader x alys rivers a period piece, set in 1902.

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wordcount: 2.6k

you're a young, american lady who is an aspiring author. you are wooed by a mysterious and charming savant from england. swept off your feet, you're whisked away to his family's ancient estate, Dragonstone Hall. but with all stories, secrets are hiding around every corner, and your suitor is no different. a crimson peak inspired mini series. (this will likely be about 3 parts)

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: smut, angst, gaslighting, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, alys in her girlboss gatekeep gaslight era, no use of y/n, afab reader, pre-established alysmond, this isn't going where you think it is (it might be), infidelity-ish, polyamory

to death we dance - salem's heir • the flower duet - sabine devieilhe & marianne crebassa

“You were nearly late, miss,” one of the butlers murmured in your ear. “The music’s just started.” 

“There is a quote about being fashionably late, isn’t there?” you mused, taking his gloved hand as he helped you up the steps. 

It was a banquet for your father’s business, a celebration of having struck gold (oil) and turning a huge profit. Or, in your words, an excuse for the high and mighty to get plastered and dance the night away. Your fist clenched upon the train of your dress– a lovely evening gown in eggshell white, with hand embroidered lilacs and lavender petals on it, spindling up your bodice like a trellis. Your usually somewhat unruly hair was tamed into a braided and pinned up-do, with an expensive broach poked into the bun of hair in the shape of a falling wisteria branch. 

Your father was the first to greet you, peeling away from the gaggle of portly oil barons. He kissed your cheek. “You look lovely tonight, my dear. A vision in purple, I must say.”

You smiled back at him. “Yes, well, you all but wringed my arm to get me to attend– and you shall hold up your end of the bargain… right?” you hummed softly, batting your eyelashes. 

He let out a small sigh, nodding. “I will send your manuscript to the publisher– the editor in chief is here tonight, if you’d care to mingle. Amongst… many other eligible bachelors, I might add.” 

Your father had spent the better part of the last three years gently trying to pair you up with a suitor for marriage. He was a patient man, as he had droned on about so many times before, but his patience was waning. You were twenty-one years old, and apparently, that was a ghastly sight– to be twenty-one and unmarried with no promising prospects. 

Of course, you couldn’t care less. You were more focused on finishing your manuscript in that time– you had a knack for writing and reveled in works of fiction that tended to lean to the darker sides of things. It had finally reached a point you were somewhat happy with, and had convinced your father to chat up his well connected colleagues so you may be able to send the first draft to a publisher.

The price for that, however, was to entertain suitors. At a gala. Dressed and primped like a Thanksgiving turkey. It was all so dreary to you– the ladies stared at you and whispered, citing you as the dreary one. 

Breaking away from your father with a tiny smile, you began to mingle– as well as you could, anyhow. You were awkward and a bit sheltered and it showed. However, once you said who your father was, dollar signs would flash in the eyes of the men you were speaking with, and they would push forward in the conversation. You weren’t ugly by any means and could become a good wife to some young entrepreneur– but you didn’t want that.

You were about fed up with it all three hours later, your nails clinking against the glass of champagne you were nursing for the better part of thirty minutes. Your look of slight annoyance managed to stave off any other wanton suitors– until another man approached you. You had exchanged some glances with him during the night, but you didn’t recognize him. He was tall, exceedingly taller than any of the other men there. His blonde hair, so pale it was almost white in hue, was cinched at the nape of his neck in a clean ponytail, falling between his shoulder blades. He was in a custom-fitted three piece black and green suit– you could tell from how perfectly it was hugging him, in all the right places.

A familiar heat came to your cheeks as you watched him saunter over to you with an intent in his pale blue eyes– eye? One of them, you noted as he came closer, was slightly off-color from the other and moved a bit slower. Likely fake, you thought. The light casted over the planes of his face, chiseled as it was, illuminating the slightly raised, puckered skin near the fake eye in a distinctual scar. He looked just like the perfect inspiration for a protagonist in one of your novels– or mayhaps an antagonist. He seemed to skim the line between the two in appearance alone.

Curious.

“My lady,” he greeted as he finally broke the air of silence between you, his arms placed behind him in a very calculated manner. “Are you enjoying yourself this evening?” he asked then, a brow perked. His accent wasn’t American– that you knew for certain– likely something European. 

“As much as I can, sir,” you responded coolly, despite being caught slightly off guard by his sudden and overwhelming presence– a dark cloud in a perfectly tailored suit. “I hope that the…” you cleared your throat, trying to sound a little more confident than you likely were. “The… event is to your liking.” you mustered a smile, diverting your gaze to your champagne, hoping there may be the secrets to being a good conversationalist somewhere within the bubbles.

He chuckled, the sound low and husky. It caused a shiver to go up your spine. “The event is well and fine, my lady. Are you… the proprietor of the gala tonight? I wouldn’t expect a beautiful thing such as yourself to plan something like this.”

You glanced up at him beneath fettered lashes. He was complimenting you and insulting the party at the same time. “No– I am not. I’d never choose such… dreary musicians for an event like this. They’re playing for a wake rather than a party– that would be my father’s doing.” you slipped it into the conversation, that this was your father’s party, trying to gauge if this handsome stranger was after what all of the others were.

Surprisingly, his expression, smooth and cool with the barest hint of a smile perking at his naturally upturned lips, didn’t change. “Dreary,” he repeated, “Melancholic, gloomy, monotonous, vapid– all good words to describe the state of affairs.”

“You have quite the expansive vocabulary, Mister…” your voice trailed off, an inadvertent way to ask for his name.

“Targaryen– Aemond Targaryen. And you?” he reached his hand out to shake yours – how incredibly formal– as you returned your own name with a wide-eyed stare.

“Targaryen. As in… the ancient bloodline? Descended from dragons, close to royalty, Dragonstone estate Targaryen?” you asked, mouth slightly agape. From what you knew of them, they were as close to the height of English royalty, real royalty, as there was in the current year, 1902. Their wealth alone, minus all of the titles, made your father’s look like a pissant trust fund. 

“The very same. You’re familiar with my family?”

“Ehm– familiar, more so I’ve heard of you all. Your family’s name comes up quite often in my father’s social circles. And I am quite nosy.”

“And what do you think?”

“About… your family? Mr. Targaryen–” 

“Call me Aemond.”

“Aemond– I don’t really know much besides the height of your prestige– and your family’s estate, Dragonstone. My father brought me back some photographs of it from his trips over the pond. It’s quite beautiful.”

“Your father brought you pictures of our home?”

“N-not just yours! I collect photographs of old estates, mostly ones from Europe. I like to use them for inspiration for my… stories. I’m a writer– a novice, mostly.”

“A writer? Have you published anything I might know?” 

“Oh, God no–” you laughed, covering your face slightly with your hand. “I’ve not yet been published. I actually sent my manuscript to… or will be sending one to a publisher soon. Hopefully.”

“What do you like to write?” he asked then, leaning a bit closer to you as if he was actually enjoying conversing with you. “Romance? Children’s fables?” he teased softly, his one eye gleaming. He was quite handsome, you thought.

“I like horror– mysteries, gothic fiction. I’m quite enamored with the… macabre and weird,” you admit. “I hope that doesn’t frighten you.” 

Aemond grinned, his teeth shining, canines pronounced against his thin lips. “Oh, yes, it does frighten me. But, all good horror stories should frighten their readers, yes? I expect you’re a fan of Vampyre? Perhaps Dracula?” 

“Both are good. My favorite, however, is Frankenstein. Mary Shelley is a genius. The Castle of Otranto is also wonderful and the pioneer of the genre. I remember trying to read it when I was younger and being scared of the dark hallways at night. Later on in life, those dark hallways enthused me enough to write about them– hence my… fascination with old houses.”

“Old homes certainly do have their fair share of secrets, don’t they?” he paused, straightening his lapel slightly before leaning back in towards you. “And do you believe what they say? That Mary’s husband wrote it and published it under her name?”

Your brows knit together in slight irritation. “Of course not. Why would he need to do such a thing? I hope you don’t mind me saying, but men already have enough advantages as is– publishing under a woman’s name instead might be considered a disadvantage.”

“Will you be publishing under your own name?” 

You blinked, taking a sip from your champagne. It was something you considered and went back and forth upon. “I haven’t decided. I have a pseudonym ready just in case.”

“Do tell– so I know what name to look for on the shelves within a year.” 

God, was he ever charming– and without even trying, really. He was well-spoken with a voice that was soft and almost whispery. It made butterflies bubble in the pit of your stomach– now that was a feeling you weren’t familiar with. “Dorian Gray.”

“Cheeky woman.” he mused. “Fancy a dance, Miss Gray?”

“... I suppose I could be swayed.”

–

Your dance together, to say the least, was a success– it started month’s worth of courting after. Aemond took you on the most splendid nights out, wining and dining you like you were a gorgeous, interesting debutante. It was exhilarating to say the least and made you feel… truly wanted– especially since his family was exceedingly wealthy, your father’s wealth couldn’t have attracted him. 

He took you to the theater, out to wondrous restaurants, and bought you various gifts like jewelry, writing supplies and outfits to wear when you went out.

It all felt very much like a dream to you– something beyond your usual, weary routine that had hardly ever changed since your mother died when you were eight years old. You’d recused into yourself then, the dark hallways that scared you so fiercely just before her death now seemed welcoming. You thrived in the dark, like a moth. 

But now, you felt something more akin to a butterfly, bathing in the sun’s light. 

It wasn’t a great surprise when Aemond asked your father for his blessing to marry you. Your father, who had harped you for years to get married, was suddenly apprehensive. 

He pulled you aside, arm around you. “Do you like this boy, dear?”

“Y-yes, father– very much so.”

“I’ll be honest, sweetheart. I’m not exactly keen on letting my only daughter go off with… some man–” 

“He isn’t just some man, father! He’s a Targ–” 

“Don’t interrupt,” he chastised firmly. “I’ve had my people look into his family further– it’s a whole mess, issues with succession, backstabbing, incest, the whole nine yards,” he took a measured breath. “But I’ve heard nothing but good things about… Aemond. But… you’d be so far away. You’d be off living in the annals of England, a whole boat’s ride away.”

“This is what you wanted, father! For me to marry, for me to be happy! This is the happiest I’ve been in… so long. You must see that?”

The creases in your father’s forehead relaxed as he regarded you for a long moment, before turning to Aemond, who was waiting patiently off to the side. He let go of your shoulder and walked to your beau, staring at him sternly. “Will you treat her right? Give her everything she deserves and more?”

Aemond perked up slightly, rubbing the side of his forefinger with his thumb in a seemingly nervous gesture. “Of course, sir. I’ll give her everything I have and more. She will be regarded as a Lady– the Lady Targaryen of Dragonstone Hall, and she wouldn’t be treated with any less respect than a Lady deserves.”

Your father’s gaze narrowed, taking it all into careful thought. “... very well. You have my blessing, son. But, one whiff of even a tear from her eye on your account, and your nads are forfeit. I may not be as well-off as your family, but I’ve got a lot of friends in a lot of places.”

– 

The marriage was a quick affair, as your father, and now Aemond, knew you had no patience for pomp and frills. Aemond gave you a beautiful ring with an absolutely gigantic sapphire inlaid in the center, citing it as a family heirloom from centuries past. Your father saw you off onto the boat, bawling his eyes out. You’d never seen your father cry– not once. 

As husband and wife, you both agreed to wait to celebrate your wedding night until you arrived in England at his family’s estate to your marital bed.

The trip overall was a little under a week’s time upon a luxurious liner, where you both enjoyed champagne and each other’s company. You craved your husband, and he craved you in the same, but you each wished to keep your agreement intact. But it was increasingly hard, as you held one another close each night and his need for you was clearly pressed to your lower back.

Dragonstone Hall was a few hours' carriage ride north of the port and was nestled upon a high-ridged cliff. It was as gorgeous as the pictures had depicted, even moreso. It was ancient, imposing against the skyline and mingling to the clouds, where sea birds and ravens alike swirled above the towering watch towers that were supported by stone walls with vines grasping to them like lifelines. 

It was gorgeous, gothic and most definitely haunted– a perfect place for a woman of horror such as yourself. 

Aemond helped you out of the carriage, a hand placed upon your waist as he guided you beyond the gates. Your eyes were wide with wonder, taking in the scenery like a breath of fresh air. Tears threatened to spill over suddenly, as you were just overwhelmed with everything going on. You were married to someone you loved, who loved you– and were the Lady Targaryen of Dragonstone Hall. 

“Something wrong, my love?” Aemond whispered into your ear, his lips tickling your lobe.

“N-no– I’m just… very happy.”

He wiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb, clearing your vision. You glanced up at one of the windows on the third story of the castle. Someone was staring back at you.

A lady. Her hair was red, her skin almost translucent. 

You must’ve been imagining it, surely. Looking to another window, another visage appeared.

Another– this time with dirty blonde hair, her blue eyes ghastly and bloodshot. She was practically see through. 

You pressed closer to Aemond, blinking profusely– it must’ve been the exhaustion from the nights on the boat catching up to you. Once you rubbed your eyes, you looked back; the figures were gone. 

As you approached the main door of the estate, another face caught your eye. 

Another woman– with dark hair and sullen, emerald eyes. They pierced through you like two heavy jewels, making goosebumps prickle atop your arms. She wasn’t ghastly or undeathly like the other two, and when you rubbed your eyes, she was still there.

She was still there, very much a living person in the flesh, with flowing blood and a beating heart. And she was beautiful.

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+

| Master List | Prev Part | Next Part

Word Count: 16.9k

Chapter contains: Wedding shenanigans, smut, meeting Hawkins characters, smut, regular kinks, public sex, and lazy writing where i didn't even look up countries to travel to for honeymoons. Also...a haircut... (don't hate me)

I barely got this done in time, and it's also unedited. My editor says she can do it and we'll replace the rough copy lol.

Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for always telling what they think and reading for it me first.

I just wanted to share some personal news. I'm 18 weeks pregnant, and I am always so fucking tired, so I apologize for posting a million things one week and nothing for months. The inspiration really comes and goes.

Anyways Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect your wedding to be so soon,” Skyler admits, in the middle of chewing on a salt and vinegar chip, some in her hand in queue to be chomped on next.

You keep your eyes on the movie playing snacking on a peanut M&M, watching Amanda Bynes’ truly unmatched comedic timing. “I am not spending a whole year of wedding planning,” you protest, throwing another chocolate into your mouth, “my mom is far too opinionated for me to be able to handle all of that fuss.”

“Well, you still need to find a dress…” Bethany points out, taking a hit off her vape pen. “And a caterer, someone to marry you, and a wedding photographer, decorate the venue—”

“We have invited close family and friends only.” You remind her, rolling her eyes. “If anything, the reception will turn into one big dance party. Hell, we’re ordering pizza. I don’t need a fairytale wedding. Having him has made my life a fairytale already.”

“Gross.” Skyler comments, sticking her tongue out at you playfully.

“I think it’s cute.” Bethany offers, grinning.

“Also, I might have already decided on a dress.” You hesitantly say, turning your head around and up at them to see their reactions. They collectively stop what they’re doing to scream at you for it. The gist of their uproar was mostly how they weren’t invited to the time you spent looking, but this dress was a happy accident by every definition.

“You found a dress?”

You shrug, pausing the movie so it’s not such a distraction for the conversation. “Yeah…”

The first time Eddie gave you his card and sent you to the mall for him, you were anxious about holding his money and only spent it on things he explicitly said he had wanted.  The entire trip took about an hour, getting home and holding a few bags as you entered the front door. Eddie leapt from the couch, grinning wickedly as he met you in the kitchen. He held your hands as he smirked at you. “How was the shopping trip?”

“Good.” You answered, moving to your purse on the counter to hand him his card.

He put it in his wallet hurriedly, wanting to get back to you. “What’d you get?” He asks, starting to look through the bags.

“I found everything you asked for except for the socks, apparently they’re discontinued.” You answered, leaning onto the island counter.

Eddie’s face falters only the littlest bit, shrugging. “Damn, gonna have to find a new favourite pair then.” He looked through every bag one by one, seemingly looking for something he couldn’t find. “What’d you get?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “Um, everything but the socks?”

Eddie’s face broke into laughter, hands snaking themselves around your waist. “Yes, baby, but what did you get for yourself?” His voice was so gentle, smiling at you fondly with a gorgeous lobsided smile on his face.

“Oh, um, nothing…” you answered, eyes flickering to the ground. “It’s your money.”

A hand made its way onto your cheek, intertwining his fingers in your hair. His lips landed on yours, taking your breath away with how dreamy and dizzy it made you feel. As he pulled apart, your knees were weak, mouth half open as you stared up at him in pure bewilderment. After you were able to catch your breath, you finally asked, “What was that about?”

He smiled at you tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re just so sweet, my love,” he muses, beautiful brown eyes roaming all over your face. “Sweetheart, you have a ring on your finger. If we’re about to get married, then my money is your money.”

A frown sat on your face, thinking over what he just told you, eyes fleeting all over his hardwood floor. “But…I don’t, I don’t want, I don’t want—”

He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your chin to look up at him. “I know you don’t want it.” His other hooked around your back, pulling your body against his. “However, I do want to share it with you, just like I want to share everything else.”

You smiled at him, sighing as his hand caressed the swell of your cheek, leaning into it. “I just don’t want you to think I’m with you for any other reason than how much I love you.”

“And how hot you find me, hmm?” He teased, eyes half lidded.

You rolled your eyes playfully, hands petting the nape of his neck. “Of course.” Eddie gave you a big kiss, lips wrapping yours, making you feel only bliss. “So, if I take your card to Sephora and buy a palette I’d had my eye on, you wouldn’t protest?”

Eddie sighed, sticking his tongue out in his true fashion. “You could buy the whole damn store as long as you’re happy.”

You squinted at him, lips pursed as you assessed his gorgeous face. “…How much do you have in savings?”

He smiled, tilting his head playfully. “Enough.” He said, tilting his head and twisting his face comically. “Maybe not enough to buy the whole store, but enough to shop comfortably.”

With his blessing, you started to feel something like trophy wife on the occasional mall trip. Holding his black card as you swipe it unflinchingly at a large bill is so satisfactory as you see the glint of jealousy of the cashier’s eyes.

On your most recent outing, grabbing groceries and making stops at your favourite stores as you browsed, a little boutique in the corner of the mall caught your eye. You’ve never seen it before, a deserted area of the mall that has incredibly niche stores that mostly look like a storefront for a ring of some type. In the very corner is a sweet little boutique with hand made clothes, the kind of clothing one doesn’t come across very often anymore, all made with care with high quality fabric…but not at a designer price.

A dress with embroidered flowers around the skirt caught your eye in the window, and there were only cuter clothes. With several hangers of clothing on your hand, the corner the store comes into view, and the prettiest white dress you’ve ever seen came into view.

As soon as your size was in your grasp, you giddily ran off to the change room. As soon as the zipper is up, your eyes welled up in bridal glory.

All for 85 dollars. (Well, that’s not the whole bill, just the dress.)

Your eyes flicker back to your friends, shrugging. “It just happened.”

“How far is Hawkins, exactly?” Bethany asks, leaning on her elbow on her legs crossed.

“A few states away.” You answer, pressing play on the movie again.

“You’re only inviting close family, right?” Skyler asks.

“Yeah, and you guys and Steve’s family.”

Bethany tilts upside down on the couch, feet resting on the pillows as she watches the movie upside down. “I’m sorry, who’s Steve again?”

You roll your eyes. “Do you guys ever listen to what I say?” They shrug, looking at you expectantly. “He’s Eddie’s best friend.” Still, their looks are completely blank. “You remember the photo I showed you of Eddie? He was the one on the left.”

Their eyes both noticeably bug out of their sockets. “Oh, you lucky bitch.” Skyler chuckles, definitely remembering the one of the left.

You roll your eyes, again. “He’s happily married, you dicks.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it” Bethany accuses, knowing you too well, if you had anything to say about it.

The hesitation says everything. “Okay, maybe once or twice.” You admit, avoiding their eyes. “But again, he is happily married, and frankly unrealistic. Plus, he might be my sister’s father-in-law,” you joke, mostly hoping there’s no truth behind it.

 “Okay, this I gotta hear.” Bethany giggles, leaning in with much intrigue.

-

Hours later into the evening, your friends are taken off to their prospective life commitments. The living room is tidied up and the tv turned on to some background noise as you doom-scroll on your phone. Right on time, the front door to the house slams shut.

His hot breath and sweet kisses on your neck feels like home, titling your neck and humming happily as his arms wrap around your torso from behind the couch. “Hi, baby.”

“Hello, my love.” He greets. Your hand lands on his hair, petting his curls. “I gotta take a shower, then I’ll be right back.”

He bends your head on the back, giving you a deliciously upside down kiss. “Hurry fast.”

A usual shower for him doesn’t take too long, usually sporting sweats and a band tee as he comes back down the stairs twenty minutes later.

It’s only thirty minutes when your patience completely runs out, hopping up the stairs wondering if he fell asleep. He’s not in the room, or the bathroom, so you finally find him in the closet, squatting while he grabs something from one of the low storage shelves.

“Hey, Eddie—”

You forget the English language. Every word you’ve ever known is gone from your brain, nowhere to be seen. He uses his elbows to lean on his thighs, perched on his toes and smiles at your speechlessness.

“Surprised?” He asks, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You stare up at it, hand petting his scalp. “What did you do?”

He shrugs, spinning his hands in circles in his hair. “Needed a change.”

“That…that’s a big change.” You comment, noting the way his face looks without his hair framing it.

He grins, hand caressing your face sweetly. “What do you think?”

You wonder how you missed the razor with a hair clip on the counter. “I think we might have a problem…”

The panic in his eyes is subtle, but there. Clearly, he’s never had someone who loved him for him, and you’re excited to see his reaction. “Oh?” Eddie asks, doing his best to appear casual.

You smile, admiring the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck, even buzzed all the way to his scalp. “What the hell am I going to hold onto while you go down on me?” You ask, playfully scolding him.

He laughs, his face crumbling in relief. “We’ll figure it out, sweets.” He tugs you into his arms, arms gorgeously tough as he hugs you intensely. “Not the first time I’ve cut my hair, you know.” Eddie tells you, squatting back down to grab what he needed.

You’re honestly unsure if you’ve ever seen a picture of him with short hair, but then again, his social media doesn’t have many pictures of him. “Oh?”

Eddie grabs what he needed successfully, taking off into your shared bathroom. “Yeah, last time was when Dyl was like eight, or something.” Eddie answers, cleaning up the last strands of hair from the counter. How did you miss those?

“Needed a change, then, too?” You ask, now seeing where he placed his shed locks, the damn garbage.

Eddie tucks his lips in, tongue poking out between his lips. “Uh, not exactly.” He starts, hesitating. “Brooke sort of…demanded? I guess? That I cut my hair when long hair was apparently not really cool anymore.” He laughs, putting the razor away. “She wouldn’t let it go.”

Anger is useless, at this point, knowing that dumb bitch was just plain horrible to him. It still stings to know he had to deal with her, regardless. “She seems so lovely.”

Eddie laughs, taking your hand in his as he led you back out the bedroom and back down the stairs. “This time, at least I did it for myself.”

“I can’t lie,” you start, sitting nearly on his lap on the couch. “I will miss it, and our kids will be shocked when they see their dad had short hair in our wedding photos…but it’s hair. It grows back. I will always accept you for who you are, baby.”

Eddie doesn’t know which part to focus on more. He hopes you never fail to make him feel so loved, and honestly, he doubts you ever possibly could. But for the moment he focuses on the first part. “Our kids huh?” He asks as you lean back comfortably against his chest.

“Oh, hush, you know what I want from you.” You rebuke, smiling satisfied as you watch whatever is on TV.

His arm wrapped around you pulls you impossibly closer to him, still expecting the itch of his hair on your neck. “I know, my love. I want the same thing.”

“You get any calls for RSVPs, yet baby?” You ask, sighing happily.

“Steve called, everyone’ll be there, of course.” Eddie answers, grabbing the remote to switch channels.

“Oh, cool, I can’t wait to meet Jocelyn.” You say, still not having met his wife.

“I thought you’d be more excited to meet Eliza.”

“Oh, her, too.” You laugh, nodding. “She will be the cutest flower girl ever.”

Eddie kisses the top of your head, sighing happily as his cheek rests on it. “That, she will be.”

-

Eddie’s hands are intertwined with yours as he flies down the major highway, music blasting through his speakers as the wind sends your hair flying from the open windows. The prospect of flying versus driving to Hawkins was debated for a hot minute, but a long road trip with him was just too good to pass up. Several bags are in the back seat, packed for both the four days you’re spending in Hawkins, and the three weeks for the honeymoon.

He surprised you with a His and Hers matching set of bags, mouth quirked in a smile as he saw the embarrassment take over your face. He knew how excited you were to go take a trip to Cancun with him as newlyweds, and he did his best to make it clear the feeling is mutual.

But before you can take off on a flight with him, comes getting married.

Both your dress and his suit are in garment bags, something you’re all too thrilled for him to see, the prospect of him on the other side of the aisle filling you with a level anticipation you didn’t know was possible.

The trip is long, and you wonder how Steve was able to make it to your parents’ in such short notice, noting you’ll need to extend more gratitude to him. You had offered to drive, but Eddie had repeatedly denied you, insisting you’re his queen, and he planned on treating you like one.

What was that you had said earlier about living a fairy tale?

As you pulled into the small town, Eddie texts a few of his friends to let him know you had arrived safely. He pulls up to the one gas station in town, stretching his back out, walking into the convenient store to pay and take a leak.

When he comes back out of the station there’s an aura of amusement on his face, shaking his head. You meet him at the pump, eyebrow quirked to ask him what he was so smug about.

“He’s still alive.” Eddie chuckles as he puts the pump to start filling it up. He laughs again when your face twists into even more confusion. “Gus, the owner from when I was in high school, he’s still kickin’, and he’s still running the joint.” He pauses, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Probably out of pure spite, if anything.”

You kiss his cheek, petting at the curls now swirling in his hair. You still missed the length, but he looked good with short curls. “Wonder who else has surpassed those expectations.”

His eyes widen at the idea. “If Higgins is still principal…”

You smirk, having several stories about Higgins undeserved vendetta he held against Eddie, having once blackmailed him into dripping out. “God help the youth of Hawkins, Indiana.”

“I don’t blame Arlo for any of his sass in that case.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, a text from your mother that she, Viti, your dad, and her had successfully landed in Indianapolis and are currently grabbing their rental. Thank god your mom is acting like a mother again after her brief mental psychosis. 

For the first day in town, Eddie has a whole plan for you, refusing to tell you what he had planned. First, was the singular old folks’ home Hawkins hosted. The receptionist immediately recognizes Eddie, flickering to you with a twinkle in her eye. “Is this?” She asks, pointing to you covertly.

“Sure is.” He answers. “How is he?”

“Very excited.” She answers, placing a pen and paper on the counter in front of you. Eddie signs his name, and hands the pen for you to do the same. “Same room as always.”

Confused, you follow his lead down the hall the opposite way from the rec room where a group of elderly individuals were playing bingo. He’s petting your thumb with his, his eyes flickering between your eyes and the ground.

Is he nervous?

He finally stops at the door second to last on the left, labelled with the number 18. Three knocks on the door and there’s a gruff voice on the other side telling you to come on in. Eddie takes a deep breath and opens it, slowly walking into the room.

The door opens to an older, much older, man with a very thin patch of hair on his head facing the other direction, hands shuffling over a faded deck of cards, slowly categorizing them, supposedly a game of solitaire. Eddie lets go of your hand to approach him from behind, playfully humming, moving one of the cards over the old man’s shoulder. “There ya go.” Eddie says, gentle and smug.

“Christ, you always knew how to beat me.” He mutters, shaking his head. He lifts it to face Eddie, smiling ear to ear as he stands up slowly, relying on the table in front of him for stability. “Bout time you came back to town,” he jokes, tugging Eddie in for a hug.

You can see Eddie’s smile over his shoulder, observing the way Eddie relaxes in his hold. Eddie’s hands on his back are firm, gripping onto him for dear life. You’ve heard stories, only had an idea of how much his guardian meant to him, but from just the looks of this hug, it’s the kind of affection you suppose could only a parent could provide him.

Times like these you wished you knew him when he was younger, just to see more of these vulnerable moments.

Not that you want to cut their reunion short, but you need to get this introduction out of the way because it was the one you’re most nervous about. You clear your throat subtly, only to get their attention. Eddie’s eye’s abruptly open, meeting yours apologetically. “Sorry, sweets.” He says, pulling away from the hug. “Uh, Wayne this is—”

Wayne, the man who has picked up the slack from his deadbeat brother and runaway sister-in-law, turns to face you, smile on his face as he abruptly wraps you in his arms for a hug. “I don’t need an introduction to the woman who brought my son back to life.” He insists, squeezing you tight. You want to feel cocky about this statement, but all you can do is smile into his shoulder. It’s impossible that the affect you have on one another is the same, a lust for life you’ve never have before now ever present, looking forward to the future knowing that you’ll have him for as long as humanly possible.

It's just nice to hear from those who have known him his whole life.

Wayne finally lets you go, the smile lines ever present as he grins at you. “Well, I suppose you two still have a lot of work to do before Saturday, huh?”

You look at Eddie, shrugging in sync. The only thing there really is to do is set a few tables up for the reception and pick up some flowers from the local florist. A small wedding means little to do, especially with good friends in town insisting on helping tie the final pieces together.

“This one isn’t a bridezilla, is she?” Wayne jokes, winking at Eddie’s exasperated eyeroll.

“She could stand to be a bit more decisive, to be honest.” Eddie laughs, a lobsided smile.

To be fair, you just wanted to marry him, it really didn’t matter how the tables are laid out at the reception, or where you take the photos. He could’ve taken you to a courthouse and you would’ve been satisfied, but there is something so enticing about announcing to your close friends and family how much you love and plan to spend all your days with him.

Wayne and Eddie talk, Wayne telling the embarrassing stories you’ve been begging Steve to tell you, yet with no success. The pink blush on Eddie’s face is adorable, watching as he hopelessly protests the stories, but Wayne seems to be the only person out there who doesn’t get intimidated by Eddie’s stern voice. You wonder if the temptation to give the same energy next time you’re being berated by him will be too much to ignore.

Your favourite story that Wayne told you was the one where he was ten years old and attempted to mix his love of hard Metal and Dungeons and Dragons and turned on the song only to forget he had it turned all the way up the day before.

It resulted in snacks everywhere and one of his favourite figurines crashed as he stumbled across the room to try to turn his stereo down. Wayne even had some photos he keeps in a box on his dresser, handing one by one. The best set of photos were Eddie growing his hair, going from a kid with a buzz cut in the halls of a school displaying a rock signal to the camera to a jaded teenager refusing to smile for it.

Yeah, if you knew Eddie in high school you would’ve been down bad.

Eventually, Eddie stops protesting at the stories and just ends up defending the actions of a hormone-driven seventeen-year-old.

“You’re not expecting me to wear a suit, are you?” Wayne squints, leaning back onto the desk.

“Just wear something nice, will ya?” Eddie asks, an aura of affection for his lifelong guardian.

“Yeah, yeah.” Wayne dismisses him.

The nurse is sweet as you and Eddie sign out, Eddie requesting that they get him out of his room to socialize for once. She laughs, insisting that they do his best to get him out, but he is stubborn as he is old. Judging from his silver hair and the vibrant blue veins showing from his paper-thin skin, you can see where Eddie gets a lot of his personality from.

Eddie’s a silent sort of content as he drives down the main street, thumb caressing your hand with purpose and ease. He makes a turn, slowing at the end of the street at a sweet little yellow house. “Where you bringing us this time?”

“Still not telling.”

The front door opens to a woman with short curly hair, crossing her arms as soon as she sees who is on her front step. “Was wondering when you’d stop by.” She says, waving her hands to invite you in. “Come on in, Robin is over for the afternoon.”

“Hi, Wheeler.” Eddie greets her, tugging you in with him.

Oh, Nancy. You’ve heard little about her, only that her determination is scary.

“Yeah, come on in, you groomer.” Comes another voice, a little rough on the edges but said with love.

“Groomer?” Eddie asks, eyebrow tilting.

“You’re lucky that’s all I’m calling you.” Robin, sitting at a table with a cup of tea, playfully shoots back. “Marrying a girl half your age.”

“And like I’ve said on the phone, she’s been making as many of the decisions I have.” Eddie says, sounding tired. “Anyway, this is Robin, that’s Nancy.”

They toast their cups to you, observing how you and Eddie are with each other, his hand around your shoulders and your hand easily intertwined with his.

“They’re uh, they keep me in check.” Eddie laughs, gesturing to them.

“You cut your hair.” Nancy states, a smirk on her face. “Haven’t seen that in a few years.”

“Whatever, do you want to tell her or not?”

Turns out, Nancy and Robin been communicating and texting Bethany and Skyler for ideas on a bachelorette party for you. Your eyes are full of fear as you glance to them full of fear, scared of what they had planned.

Those eyes were a little too smug for comfort. “You haven’t told her anything about the uh… U.D, have you?” Robin asks softly as Nancy shows you a photo album as the friend group from years back. What a friend group to be in back in their heyday.

“Not quite yet.” Eddie shrugs, wondering how is it those faded memories can come back so quickly just because he’s in town.

“You ever plan to?”

“Probably. Won’t wait too long so she doesn’t think I’m senile.” Eddie jokes, but it falls flat.

“I think she can handle it.” Robin admits, now having spent a few hours with you. “Maybe skip the part where your heart stopped.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Probably.”

-

Eddie has made several more stops throughout the day, introducing the many colourful characters that flooded his hometown. Felt like right out of a storybook.

The one you most got along with turned out to be Dustin Henderson, the very same one who Steve’s third son is named after. Just from your first conversation surrounded by their goofiness, do you truly understand how dorky, how dramatic he really is. Dustin does have stories to tell you, less embarrassing, more dripped in his dramatic flair for life.

Dustin checks on the habits he still carries, does he still fidget with his fingers, does he tuck in his lips, has his patience gotten better.

Correction, Dustin is one other person you suppose Eddie can’t intimidate. You’ve seen many attempts only met with laughter. “Steve has a bachelor party planned for you, you know.”

You shoot Dustin a glare, charging on him. “There won’t be any strippers, right?”

Eddie’s laughter abruptly stops when you shoot a glare at him, giving you a meek smile. You fucking thought so.

“Don’t worry, Harrington has a death wish, but not that badly. It’s a meticulously planned out campaign.” Dustin chuckles elbowing you. “A few drinking games involved, but no models in bikinis.”

Suddenly Eddie’s in your ear, breath sending shivers down your body. “If you were to show up in a bikini, I wouldn’t protest.” Eddie whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Tempting, but I think I’ll wait until Cancun.” You answer, grinning cheekily at his widened eyes.

Eddie gets a text that night when you’re in the hotel room with him where the reception was to take place. Most of the wedding was completely figured out, the two of you are ready for a night in before the rush sets in for tomorrow, cuddled up under the blanket as he reluctantly watches one of your favourite romcoms.

His hand pets on your bare thigh, slowly making its way up, smirking at the way you tense under his touch, whimpering as you impatiently wait for him to finally touch you. His fingers finally, finally brushing under your panties and just seeing how wet you are when Eddie’s phone vibrates on the bed. “Don’t you dare.” You protest, clutching in his shirt.

“You’re not in any position to be making demands.” He chuckles, sliding to answer his phone.

You huff, head banging against the head rest.

“Make it fast, Harrington.” Eddie answers. You start to pay more attentive attention to the movie when his hand slips back under your panties. His finger moves easily along your folds, slowly working you. Eddie mutes his phone, “Be fucking quiet, got it?” You nod, forcefully taking a pillow and biting down on it. “Sorry, bud, what was that?”

Eddie listens, face crumbling in annoyance. “And we don’t get any say in this?” He asks, inserting his finger bast the barrier of your entrance. “Yeah, we’ll be an hour.”

Eddie hooks his finger, eyes raking down your body as your back arches in attempt to keep quiet.

“Because you caught us in the middle of something, Stevie.” He laughs starting to speed up. Something Steve says tugs a beautiful sound of laughter from his lips, hanging up and tossing the phone. “Take your panties off, we have an hour.”

You throw the pillow across the room, grinning as you take your panties and the shirt you’re wearing off.

When he slides into you, perfect and relentless, the words he whispers in your ear are how he can’t wait to marry you, how much he wants to see his girl in a pretty white dress just for him, and what a pretty girl he has.

The only words that leave your throat are about how much you love him, on repeat. I love you, I love you, I love you, Iloveyou.

Stubbornly, Steve demanded two of you made your way over as soon as possible. Eddie agrees, but really wishes he could stay with you when he sees the blissed-out expression you wear in the afterglow. Damn him.

You reluctantly go with him, half asleep as your head rests his shoulders when Steve finally opens the door. “Finally, you sluts!” Steve laughs, hand in his front pocket as he opens the door with the gusto only Steve Harrington really can. “Jesus Christ, warn a guy next time you get a haircut.”

You glare at him, rolling your eyes. “If we came all this way just for this, then I will see you tomorrow, Steve.”

“She has a point.” Eddie agrees, also ready to go back to the room and forget you were asked.

“Chill out you two.” Steve insists, “c’mon.”

Well, Steve is one hell of a schemer, because as soon as you reach the living room everyone (and then some) jumps out from their hiding places, a big ass surprise party.

Like the two of you weren’t already having a big party in two days, but this is a large reminder of how loved you are.

This thankfully gave you a chance to mingle with the rest of the Harringtons, Eliza regretfully already asleep upstairs. Immediately, you see the connection between Nicky and Dylan and how much they get along far more than Dylan ever did with Arlo.

Arlo and Viti are mingling a little too close for comfort, her back leaning against the counter as his hand is placed right next to her, nodding as what ever she says is apparently agreeable. Whatever Arlo is planning, he’d better stop that shit.

Jocelyn Harrington is the perfect ying to Steve’s yang, perfectly balancing out his chaotic personality and keeping him in check only the way she can. You ask her to keep an eye out for Arlo, something she promises that she’s tried to do many times in the past, in fact, this his him tamed.

You finally learn who you’ve hired to take the wedding photos, a boy you’ve only spoken to over the phone from Steve’s recommendation. He’s…Nancy’s, ex’s, son, Jeremy Byers, who has apparently picked up his dad’s hobby in photography and, like his father, turned it into something that can pay the bills. His dad is freakishly just like him, sweet and unassuming. What is it with genes in this town? Everyone just copies and pastes.

Somehow, Steve managed to get your parents to show up, somehow finally warming up to Eddie. Still, she’s on thin ice for ever having insulted him to begin with. Apparently, Nancy does remember your mom, having been on the newspaper with her.

Your mom was on the newspaper?

The night is spent laughing in Steve’s massive living room, the air filled with anticipation and pure excitement, actually glad you were forced out of bed. The doorbell rings, opening to face your two best friends as they squeal and wrap you in a hug and everything is right in the world.

Maybe your mom could stop flirting with Steve, though.

-

Finally, you stumbled into the Hotel room at 3am, giggling together as he falls on the bed on top of you. His hand snakes his way under your skirt, tugging them down fast, the sound of him undoing his belt driving you crazy as you giddily and hurriedly help him with his shirt. He’s been teasing you all night, his lush lips wrapping yours and wandering hands making you want to pull him into one of the bathrooms.

The pure want in you right now when you know you’re about to make Eddie your husband is coursing through your body is excessive. There’s a looming question, will you be able to hold back during your wedding? Answer is a definite no, but you’re trying to trick yourself into believing that you will.

His bare skin against yours as he ruts against you is everything, yet even after every orgasm you want more, crave more of him more than you ever thought was possible. You’re extra greedy that night, holding him closer, begging him for more, more, more. His words are a sweet mixture of worship, praise, and just a little bit of degradation. My girl, my sweet love, taking me so well, your sweet cunt, greedy little slut.

You fall asleep with your legs wrapped around his waist, sleepily exchanging sweet nothings in one another’s ear, the rest of the world dissolved completely.

The vibrations of your phone don’t wake you up, but it certainly alerts you to the following vibrations of Eddie’s. The phones didn’t even make it to your chargers, sitting in the mess of clothing on the carpeted hotel floor. Eddie’s body is partially on yours, wrapped in his musk as you stretch, taking in the reflection of the sun on the roof. “Eddie.” You moan, stretching your limbs as you attempt to reach off the king-sized bed. “Phone.”

Another phone is buzzing, somebody clearly relentless in their effort to get a hold of you. Eddie hums, head twisting only the littlest bit in your neck. “Too…too bad.” You slowly crawl out of his hold, rolling towards the scattered pile of clothing. Just when you think you’re successful, Eddie’s strong bicep effortlessly pulls you back, tightening his grip on you. “Stay.”

The sound erupts again. “You don’t think that could be important?” You ask, finger gently trailing along the skin of his back.

His shoulders shrug, lips starting to trail kisses along your neck. “Don’t care.” He mumbles, hands moving across your skin. You can feel his enthusiasm against your leg, tugging him down against you. “Waking up to your beautiful face, gorgeous fucking body, you think I care about anything else?”

When he puts it like that, you suppose you really can’t say no to him, especially when his voice is luring you in like so. You hum, starting to see his point as the buzzing fades into the background. “Then get to it, will ya?” You ask him, hands intertwined in his short curls. As he pushes himself up on his hands, his eyes meet yours, grinning cheekily.

“Get to it, you say?” He asks, hands tugging on your hips your body meets his perfectly. “Somehow last night still left me unsatisfied.” He pushes into you slowly, not giving you any warning or bothering to prep you. As assumed, the slick from last night remains ever present along your folds, allowing Eddie to push in effortlessly. Your mouth opens wordlessly, meeting his eyes and drinking in the pure lust in them. “This pussy baby, you’re telling me I get this for the rest of my life? Am I that lucky?”

As always, he’s crazy to believe he’s the lucky one. “Whenever you want, Ed,” you tell him, fingers clawing up his back and mewling. “Faster, please, please, baby.”

“Pretty voice beggin for me.” Eddie mutters, still granting the wish. “Think your pussy can take more of daddy’s cum?” He asks, hands intertwined in your hair and thrusting harshly. “Thought I already filled it a bit last night.”

“Never enough, Ed.” You gasp, pulling his lips on yours. They’re lush and sweet, but the kiss turns dirty as his hands press harshly and fiercely. “Can never…never get enough.”

Eddie chuckles, curling himself into your neck. “You keep saying shit like this to me and I will never let you leave this room.” His hands slide themselves down to your wrists, sitting up as he pulls your arms down your torso. This position hits a new angle, the pleasure hitting a deeper spot than you knew possible.

“Who said I want to leave?” You laugh, his grip on your wrists tight enough to bruise.

Your legs wrangle themselves against his chest, feet flexing next to Eddie’s face, watching his half open mouth and gorgeous face. “Just what I wanted to hear, sweets.”

His hips are beautifully relentless, eventually turning you around in his grasp, your face hitting the pillow as his hips start impossibly faster. His hand grips itself in your hair, pulling your back against his chest, snaking from your hair back around your neck. “Listen to those sounds you make, love, so desperate for me.”

“What a pretty girl, taking my cock so fucking well.” His other hand clings itself onto your clit, circling it as his hot breaths gasp against your neck. “Feel that sweet pussy dripping all over me, you close, babygirl?”

“So close, Daddy.” You whine, neck stretching impossibly high as the pull in your stomach is strong and intense. His fingers move faster, driving you towards that high more and more. “Oh, my god, Ed.”

Your pussy flutters around him, eyes twitching shut and whining in his hold as his hips never let up. As you just start to come down from it, there’s a loud knock on the door. You fall forward, whining as Eddie doesn’t let up. The knock comes again, faster and louder this time. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind them, and frankly, neither do you, listening to him as his groans grow deeper and longer, reaching backward frantically for his hands. “Gonna fill you up, love.”

The knocks are now rapid, never ending and stubborn.

“One fucking minute!” Eddie yells, voice harsh and aggravated.

Now the voice that’s been shouting is clear who it is, Steve apparently having no patience as he shouts in anger.

You feel him rut a final time, bending over you as he gasps desperately into your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Hurry up, I’ve been calling you guys for an hour!” He yells, you can practically hear his hands placed on his hips.

“You want me to open the door naked?” Eddie asks, grabbing the pair of pants he tossed onto the ground last night.

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” Steve asks, a hint amusement in his voice.

Eddie opens the door, rolling his eyes as he leads him in. You lie under the covers, not caring about the lack of clothing you wear. “What?”

“Oh lord.” Steve grunts once he sees your relaxed posture on the bed, scrolling through your phone.

“I’m sorry, did you not know what you were walking in on? Your ears have mysteriously vanished from your head?” You ask, a half smirk placed on your face at his hand exaggeratedly hiding you with his hand.

“I at least figured you’d have clothes on,” Steve grumbles back, crossing his arms. “I’ve been calling you two for the last hour, we have shit to do before the parties tonight.”

“Parties?” Eddie asks, slipping his shirt on.

“Yes, parties. Hurry, you two.” Steve demands, clapping his hands repeatedly. You stare up at him blankly, still half paying attention to the videos on your phone. “Well?”

You blink at him, stunned. Wasn’t this wedding supposed to be easy? “Get out!” Point angrily to the door of the room.

“I want you two in the lobby in five minutes. We got shit to do.” Steve demands, letting the hotel door slam behind him.

You glance to your fiancé, leaning on your elbow cheekily. “Wanna fuck me again?”

To be honest, Eddie’s jeans were back around his ankles before you even finished the sentence.

-

The feeling of shamelessness as the elevator opens to the lobby fifteen minutes later is refreshing, sporting kiss bruised lips and tussled hair as you cheekily greet him.

Steve looks tired, sitting in a chair in the lobby scrolling through his phone leaning on one elbow. “I should’ve known way better.”

Admittedly, Steve was right. Despite the size of your wedding there was still a stupid amount to do before the Wedding takes place the next day. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably would’ve stayed in bed all day until the realization kicks in. Maybe being as much in love with Eddie as you are is both your saving grace and your downfall.

Steve acts like a wedding planner. You thought your mom is bad, turns out she’s got nothing on Steve Harrington with a goal and a vision.

Flowers picked up, hair stylist and makeup artist booked, the church confirmed, all the t’s crossed and the I’s dotted.

When you’re sitting with Eddie and Steve on the living room couch at the early evening, Jocelyn opens the door, walking in with her daughter running in like a little tornado, her little curls bouncing with every step. Her voice is to the brim with giggles, running up to Steve with glee.

“Daddy!” She yells, hopping into his arms as he catches her effortlessly. Eliza is somehow even cuter in person than she is in any photo you’ve ever seen of her.

Steve hugs her tightly, petting her back like the gentle parent he is. “You see who’s here, yet, Liz?” He asks, nodding towards Eddie and you.

Eliza abruptly leaves his hold, switching her bright green eyes to Eddie. “Uncle Eddie?” She jumps straight for him, forcing the one arm behind you to wrap around her.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He greets, your eyes meeting his over her shoulder. Seeing him talk about her animatedly is one thing, but watching him melt as soon as she’s in his grasp sets your ovaries on fire. “Are you excited to be a flower girl for us?”

Her eyes flicker to yours, shyly smiling, as if remembering there was someone for her uncle Eddie to get married to. “That’s the lady?”

He laughs, hearts in his eyes never leaving as he glances over. “Yep.”

Eliza looks back to him ‘whispering’ in his ear, “She’s pretty.”

Eddie chuckles and places his hand by her ear, pretending to whisper back, “I know, it’s why I’m marrying her.”

The glare you want to give him is drowned out by the warmth that floods your entire body. “You two sharing secrets over there?” You squint your eye, pretending to be suspicious of them.

Eliza giggles, hiding in her hands. “No!”

“Then why are you whispering?” You demand, leaning in.

“We’re not!” Eliza giggles, kicking her feet as she tumbles off the couch.

“If you’re lying, I think a monster is going to come chase you,” you warn her, shaking your head exasperatedly.

Her eyes go bug wide, scared only as a four-year-old can be of a monster coming after her. “N-no, we weren’t whispering!”

You nod at her, smirking at Eddie, hoping it gets the point across. “Uh, oh, Eliza, I see a monster!”

Eddie catches on, dramatically crouching as he bares his teeth and pretends to growl. As soon as she hears it, she squeals, little footsteps taking off into the next room. You watch him run after her, suddenly completely forgetting that it wasn’t his idea to begin with.

How the hell have you just managed to fall for him even harder, you’ll never know. Maybe you want more than one with him.

You sit back comfortably on your chair, feeling completely relaxed from the sounds of their footsteps and giggles alone. Your head feels heavy falling over and suddenly facing Steve’s eyes already dead set on you. You’re startled out of your daze, head perking up quickly and hurriedly. “What?” Steve’s eyes flash up and down, making you feel a tad self conscious. “What?”

“What was that?” Steve asks, nodding towards where Eddie and Eliza are still running around, making loops around the house.

You shrug. “Just playing with your four year old?”

Steve tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. “When you two have kids, I think the world needs to watch out.”

“Kids?” You ask exasperated. “Who said anything about that?”

“You did. And him. And I know you’ve at least talked about it.” Steve answers, unwavering conviction in his voice. You’re speechless, playing with your nails as you avoid his eyes. “Mmmhmm, that’s what I thought.”

Once Eliza is put to sleep, you’re comfortably on Eddie’s lap as a knock on the door echoes through the house. Jocelyn gives a smirk as she opens the door, and a parade of shouts bursts through the door. The group of men that burst through it are all loud and jeering, their smiles too wide as their hands grab at the man beneath you, picking him up by any body part they can grab. He’s promptly lifted over their heads, all of them ignoring his shouts in protest and threats to dismember them if they don’t let go of him.

Not that you’re mad at Steve for throwing Eddie’s bachelor party onto him, just the opposite. A warning that the next time you’d be seeing him was at the altar would’ve been nice, though. You heard him shouting from the basement, a mixture of glee and anger. Steve gets up from the couch, making his way towards the door to the stairs.

You rush before he goes, blocking the way to the stairs. “Take care of him, won’t you?”

“I promise no lap dances from any of the strippers,” he vows, his face smirking at the glare that lands. “I’m kidding! It’s just drunk D&D, no strippers involved, I promise!”

You hit him on his shoulder, just a little done with his bullshit. “Better not be.”

“I mean if he starts stripping when we get to the tequila, I make no promises on stopping him.”

You stop Jocelyn who is just passing by. “You sure they’re over each other?”

She shrugs, knowing exactly what you mean from 25 years of dealing with the two of them. “Jury’s out on that one, I’m afraid,” she winks, petting Steve’s confused face.

“Make sure he gets there tomorrow on time,” you nod, patting his arm condescendingly.  

“Right, a church in St. Louisville, right?” He asks. You hit him again, harsher. “Oh my god, sometimes you are so easy to piss off.”

You shoot one last glare. “For the moment, I think I have the right to be, you know? Sort of need him there on the other side of that aisle.”

“He’ll be there, he might be a bit hungover, but he’ll be there.”

“Alright. Now go downstairs, Harrington.” Steve startles you by tugging you into a hug, taking a moment in stunned silence before returning it. “Make sure he has fun.”

You sit down on the couch, listening to the crowd of men cheer as Steve finally gets to the bottom of the steps. Your head just hits the pillow on the couch when Jocelyn’s elbows land next to your hair, wearing a smirk you swear you’ve seen on Arlo before.

“Oh, you think you’re in the clear?” She asks, assessing the look on your face. “Come on in, ladies!”

Somehow when Eddie was picked up, you completely missed how there was a whole different group who followed in, sneaking their way into the kitchen. Now the very same ladies who organized the bachelorette party rushed in, grabbing your hands up from the couch as they all squeal in glee. You didn’t know where to look or what to say, surrounded by doting hands, both friends of yours and Eddie’s alike.

“Here,” no one in particular passes you a pretty dress, something you didn’t even pack for yourself. “Put this on, we’re going on a night out!”

“In Hawkins?” You ask, aware of the single dive bar that Eddie spent his nights working at.

They all let out a chorus of “no”, all explaining simultaneously that they rented a party bus and you’ll be travelling to the closest city that has one more than only one bar.

A tight dress, makeup that only other’s hands have put on you and a bit of pregaming, strobe lights are bumping and the bass is loud in while you’re surrounded by all of the hens. You’re extra surprised Nancy and Robin have also joined in on the fun, Robin’s voice scratchy in the speakers as she sings into the karaoke microphone. Your little sister is extra giddy that she was invited to join, too deep with number the drinks she’s already had.  

You’re just glad she’s not with Arlo for the night.

To catch your breath about halfway into the trip you sit down, everyone following your lead with beads of sweat on their foreheads. The music is turned down eventually, all eyes on you.

“So, are you excited?” Skyler asks, poking your hip right next to you.

You nod shyly, a big smile taking over your face. “Of course!”

“Okay, so I just have to know, what’s the craziest thing you guys have ever done?” Bethany abruptly asks on the other side of you.

Your face twists into confusion, giving every pair of eyes staring at you exactly what was going on in your brain; what the hell is she talking about? “Crazy?” You ask, question her, wondering what they could possibly mean. “We really aren’t all that crazy.”

“Oh, come on.” Viti interrupts, crossing her arms as she sits on the seat directly across from you. “You know exactly what she’s talking about.” She wiggles her eyebrows, smirking.

“I happen to know his nickname the Freak is not just a name…” Nancy laughs. “If rumours from High School are anything to go by.”

Your jaw drops, laughing to compensate for the discomfort. “Why do you all want to know so badly?”

“Please.” Skyler protests, leaning forward on her elbow. “The way he looks at you? There is no possible way you guys don’t have crazy, or at least crazy good sex. Spill the beans.”

You ask for a shot glass, downing it straight away. Not that you want to entertain it, but just to protest, you’re gonna need to be a lot less sober than you are right now. “Assuming you are even close to being right,” you start, asking for another shot, “why the hell would I tell you guys?”

“Because our curiosity is peaked.” Viti explains, unwavering in the intense eye contact with you. “Spill.”

“Fine.” You give in, barely holding the laughter that bubbles out from your mouth at their joyful expressions. “Seems you guys are desperate to know, so I will tell you one little adventure. Just one.”

The music is turned down into a low melody, acting as a background when you tell the story of hooking up with him in the dressing room after just moving in with him. Their expressions are slack jawed, all on the edge of their seats as you describe the want and the adrenaline that rushes through you as your face is pushed up against the dressing room wall.

You end the story, laughing with the crowd at the circumstance in which you ended up meeting Steve Harrington. The bus stops, pulling up to the first bar for the evening. You get up easily, ignoring the way all eyes stare at you in bewilderment. “Well, you coming, or what? It is my bachelorette party!”

Robin is the first one to get up, laughter leaving her lips as she follows behind you. “C’mon, if we get her drunk enough, I’m sure that’s not the only story she’ll tell us!”

You wish you could answer the question of how you successfully made your way back into the bed of your hotel room, waking up next to the warm body that is your fiancé. The headache is splitting, waking up to the alarm on your phone that rings loud and clear. “Oh fuck.” You wince, checking the time. Luckily you still have time until your appointments, glad you opted for a later ceremony.

You go for the carry on that rests on top of your bags, knowing it holds extra strength pain killer. You take two, this hangover the worst you’ve ever felt. You refresh yourself in the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and brushing your teeth.

You stumble back into the main room, greeted by Eddie sat up on the bed with a charmed look on his face. “How you doin,’” he asks, seeming to know more than he let on.

“My head hurts,” you whine, crawling into bed and wriggling your way in his arms.

“With how drunk you were last night, sweets, I bet it does,” he laughs, remembering the way he was barely unable understand the slurred words that came from your mouth. “You were so sweet, my love, and a very sloppy kisser, might I add.”

You hide your face in his chest in embarrassment, the feeling getting worse as you hear his deep chuckles. “What did you see?”

Eddie is in his hotel room by 1:30, the night wrapped up early after too many rounds of shots and a rush of nostalgia from even some of the original Hellfire members joining in on the fun. They weren’t going to the wedding, but they had more than enough fun in making fun of him.

At 3:00, a few light knocks interrupt his late-night rerun. He was already yawning, his age setting in, but still waiting up for you. Through the peep hole, he sees your two best friends holding you by the arms, your eyes half open as your head sways. “Jesus,” he mumbles, rushing to unlock the chain and door lock. He opens the door with wide eyes, facing his fiancée who is giggling and hanging off her two best friends.

“Oh, thank God.” Skyler mutters, praising when Eddie opened the door. “Here, take your wife.”

You stumble forward into his arms, giggling madly when your face sees his. “You’re pretty.”

“Hi, sweets,” Eddie greets you, struggling to hold you up as your legs wriggle under him. “Have fun?”

You nod, wide smile on your face. “Kiss me.” Eddie is overtaken by how much tongue you give to him, hands hurriedly grabbing at the shirt he’s wearing, attempting to take it off and assumingly forgetting about the audience you held in the hallway.

“Whoa, whoa, baby.” He unpeels your hands and stops them, pushing them down. “I think you’re a little too drunk for that, go lie down, I’ll be right there, yeah?”

You nod, slowly staggering towards the bed, landing in a starfish position right in the middle. “So, uh, thought you said you wouldn’t get her too drunk?”

If he wasn’t so concerned for your liver, he’d laugh at the way your friends’ eyes bug out of their skulls. “We tried, we really did, girl was a runaway with a credit card.”

“You didn’t think to take her card away?”

Bethany squeaks, happy for her friend, but never wanting to be on the other side of his protectiveness again. “Oh, we tried. Also, she told us some stories.”

Eddie is afraid he already knows what she means by stories. “Stories?”

“Mmmhmm. We went from begging for one to not being able to shut her up.” Skyler explains, smiling meekly at the end of her sentence.

“Remind me not to send her out on a girls’ night with you two, anymore.” Eddie sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t need her having liver failure by the time she hits thirty.”

“I mean, it was probably the excitement and all…” Bethany tries to mend but gives up at Eddie’s glare. “We’ll pick her up at 9 for the hair appointment?”

“You do that.” Eddie scrunches his face. “Thanks for getting her back safe, but I am seriously concerned for your lack of self-preservation. Goodnight.”

He doesn’t let them respond, closing the door and locking up for emphasis.

He slowly helps you take the dress that fits you extremely well off, assisting you into a pair of pyjamas. When he tucks you in under the blankets, you grab onto his shirt, yanking him in for a kiss. “Want you.”

Eddie doesn’t need any elaboration, feeling the way your hips sloppily grinded up towards him. “I know, baby, but you are way too drunk.”

“Pretty please?” You ask, your voice and face desperate in your want.

He sighs, petting your face gently. “I can make you cum, if that would help my baby?”

You nod, mewling in agreement.

“Okay, just to help you fall asleep, yeah?” You nod again as his fingers slide their way into your soaked panties, working them as he watches you fall apart easily under him.

It took you less than a minute to cum, he didn’t even slide one in. Damn. He was actually looking forward to dipping in your wet heat. You thank him repeatedly, yawning as you turn over and fall asleep in seconds.

He then had a hard on to get rid of, somehow turned on at how even when your mind is foggy all you can do is want him.

He fell asleep with you clinging onto him like a koala bear.

Eddie switches his glance back to you, smirking at the worried expression you wear on your face. “That even when you’re incredibly inebriated, you still just want me.” He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “But, I did want to request that you don’t destroy your liver, I was very concerned for you.”

You peer up at him, taken aback by how much his eyes convey the same message. “Okay.” You plant a clean, sober kiss on his lips, humming when his hands pet your hair. “Only because I never want to wake up not knowing what I did ever again.”

Eddie laughs, wondering what those CCTV cameras must’ve looked like. “Hey, princess?”

“Hmm?”

“Guess what?”

You lie on his chest, petting the patchy hair there. “What?”

“We’re getting married today.”

You can’t help it, grinning madly at this sentence and the pride in his voice. Holy shit, you’re getting married today.

Only ten more minutes of pure bliss, sharing sweet kisses and exchanging words of excitement do you get before the cavalry arrives, both your bridesmaids and Eddie’s groomsmen storming the room together.

He kisses you fiercely as he’s shooed out the hotel room, not able to get enough in before he sees you in that dress. “Love you!”

The door is shut, but you shout it back anyway, suddenly the excitement and the joy of your day settling in.

Holy shit, you’re marrying Eddie Munson, today.  

-

Since you called almost one month ago, the only hair salon in town has been booked for you and your bridesmaids until noon. The stylist is full of questions about how you met, how long you’ve been together, what he does for work, all things you’re more than happy to explain. You didn’t ask for much, only curls that braided into a crown at the base of your head, but you didn’t want to risk spending hours on it.

She leans in as soon as your hair is done, reaching your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror. “Correct me if I’m wrong, you’re the one marrying Eddie Munson, right?”

Your eyes bug, biting your lip. “Mmhm,” you confirm, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.

“Don’t worry, small town things.” She laughs, taking the cape off you. “Your makeup artist just got here, I’ll let her take care of you in this seat.”

You thank her graciously, appreciating the companionship and conversation she provided, despite the nerves really starting to set in.

Thanks to a string of emails shared between you and the makeup artist, she has a great idea of exactly what you’re wanting, a natural look with the smallest hint of smoke. You find yourself having déjà vu when she asks the same questions, naming the groom to boot. The repetition is oddly comforting, you’d even call it soothing.

“Alright just a finishing touch, and you are all…done!” She hands you a hand mirror, and you couldn’t have done it better if you tried.

No. Seriously. You’ve tried.

Your bridesmaids all get their make up done, too, the group sitting in a circle as they talk absolute nonsense. “Dude, you’re the chilliest bride ever, we don’t have to wear matching dresses and you paid for our hair and make up? To think Skyler thought you were gonna be a bridezilla!”

You quirk your eyebrow at Skyler, who was in the middle of getting her make up done. For free. “Sky?”

“Hey, you were the one who always wanted the fairytale wedding,” Skyler rebuttals, raising her hands up in surrender.

“I said that like, a year ago!” You protest, a little defensive.

Skyler laughs, loud enough to stop all the other conversations in the salon. “Babe, you said that the week before you met your groom!”

Your eyes roll, a little embarrassed from being called out. “Yeah, okay, so before I met someone, I’m willing to give up a fairytale wedding for?”

“I mean he would’ve given you one,” your sister peeps out, having been quiet this entire time. “Pretty sure you didn’t need to give it up.”

“You have any idea how long those weddings take to plan?” You ask crossing your arms in your seat. “I was not going to wait that long.”

“Down, girl.” Bethany laughs, the rest of the salon following suit.

As soon as the stupidly massive bill is paid with a card that bares a name you’ll soon share, you’re brought back to the hotel room.

All you asked from your bridesmaids that they dress in something that makes them feel comfortable, but not something they’d wear to a night out.

As soon as they’re all dressed, they surround you in a circle of love as they help you get into your dress. Not that it requires them to help you out, but the sentiment is certainly there. Just when you thought you looked great in the dress when you initially tried it on, it’s nothing with everything tied together. God forbid someone call you out for being weepy, but you couldn’t help it even if you tried.

“You ready, Miss. Bride?” Bethany, your maid of honour asks, petting your hair as she meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Nope.” You answer, without a lick of hesitation. “Yet at the same time, I have never been more ready.”

“Usually I would harp on you for being cheesy, but that was actually really touching,” Skyler admits. You promise to yourself you wouldn’t hold the mist in her eyes against her, (no matter how hard she makes it.)

Your heel lands on the pavement of the cement, getting out of the car Bethany and Skyler took to the church. In the entrance hall of the church you meet your parents and the groomsmen, Eddie tucked away so he can’t see him, or rather, he can’t see you.

As the groomsmen pair up with the bridesmaids, (Bethany blushing as her arms are wrapped around Steve’s), your dad’s hand lands on your shoulder, kind eyes behind his round classes peering at you. “You, ok, there?”

“I’m so nervous.”

He takes these words in, nodding in consideration. “What exactly are you nervous about?”

A rush of emotion takes over you, resisting the urge to glance down the aisle to where you know Eddie’s about to start making his way down any moment now. “How badly I want this.”

“Nothing else?” You nod your head, no reluctance in it. “Well, then all you have to do is start down that aisle.”

The music you picked, a cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love, starts at 3’clock on the dot, much to the way your heart flutters.

Steve approaches you, arm around Bethany’s. “I helped Eddie sneak through, he didn’t see a single thing, and he’s already on the opposite side of the aisle waiting for you.” You nod, your eyes apparently bug wide. “Breathe. If it helps, he’s been a wreck all day.”

That helps. That helps more than he knows. “Really?”

“It was kind of annoying, honestly.” Steve answers, face twisted up. “Well, we’re about to miss our cue in the song, see you there.”

“Uh huh,” you answer, warm under the kiss he plants on your cheek.

Arm in arm with Dylan, Skyler winks at you as she soon follows.

Did your sister really have to walk the aisle with Arlo?

Your dad’s arm hooks in yours, patting your hand comfortingly. “It’s time.”

But I can’t help…falling in love with you.

There’s only about 30 or so people in the pews, but even as they all stand with their eyes on you, you’re glad there’s so few. However as soon as your eyes meet his chocolate ones on the other end, you forget all the nerves, all the anxiety, all the worry.

First, your mouth curls into an involuntary smile. Not by any means of sadness, does your smile fade and turn to tears. A laugh bubbles from your chest, the mixture of tears and laughter confusing you. Maybe it has something to do with the tears that also reflect in his eyes, and the way you can’t look away from him, but you could swear there’s only the two of you in the church.

The two of you in the world, really.

There’s a squeeze on your arm, your dad reminding you he’s with you every step on the way, but your eyes are glued in place. The closer you get to him, the wider his smile grows, yours growing as a direct answer. A tear escapes, and escape in the sense that you’ve done your best to hold them back, mouthing I love you to him.

If he didn’t have as much pride as he does, you know he’d be just as weepy as you are.

Finally, you reach the end of the aisle. “I’m proud of you,” your dad whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Now, go get married.”

You finally exchange a smile with him, quickly embracing his hug. “Thanks, dad.”

You step up to the altar, eyes raking over the sea, or pond, of people in the pews. Eliza sits with her mom in the front seat, excitedly waving to a couple that only has eyes for one another.

Finally, your hands extend to hold his, switching back to face him. Oh, just when you thought he looked handsome, it turns out he gets impossibly more so when wearing a suit. A gorgeous, black suit, accentuating his slim hips and his hair loosely gelled down.

His eyes rake over you, eyes unable to stay in one place on you. “You look beautiful.” Eddie whispers, voice deep and breathless.

You sigh, another tear leaving your eye. “Unfairly handsome.”

“You been crying?” He asks, holding your face to wipe them away.

Your lean your head into his hand, closing your eyes in sweet relief. “You’ve been, too,” you sigh, noting the single tear streaked down his face.

The person you’ve chosen to marry you has no true significance, and Steve had initially suggested he do it, but who cared. However, the pastor has known Eddie since he was a teenager, more than happy to marry him to you.

His words fade into the background, a few verses about love and anecdote or two about it in his speech. Truthfully, nothing matters but his eyes on yours and the way his gaze makes you feel. 

A chorus of laughter echoes through the church, catching your attention, finally. “Seems we you got back again.” When you both look at him confused, he chuckles deeply. “We understand you’ve written your own vows?” You look at one another, but there’s no hint of any shame. “Eddie, you may go first.”

“I wish that I know how much that one shower would change my life,” Eddie starts, his thumb rubbing over your fingers.  “I got in, stressing about the shop, then I got downstairs, and I loved you from the moment I saw you.” Oh, fuck. “I have to be honest, I know you keep saying you’re lucky, but I really am the lucky one that you saw anything in this old schmuck. Everyday I have done nothing but the best to feel deserving of your love, to make sure you aren’t taken for granted.”

The tears that stream down your face are uncontrollable. “Sometimes I don’t think I have any right to feel any right to feel as protective or possessive over you as I am, until you surprise me by saying something that puts words in my mouth, the same ones I’d have been thinking all that time. To love this much and to be loved the same in return is a miracle that I will never take advantage of, my love. You will never feel taken advantage of, never worry about money or shelter, and never worry about my loyalty to you.

“I love you. I will never be ashamed of it, I will never ask more of you than you can give. You have already given me everything you have, whether I deserve it or not, and I will give you the same, every time. To be honest, I have marvelled over what to say to you, staring at a blank page. All I can say is that you will never doubt my love for you. Ever.”

God, your makeup must be completely ruined by now from the tears and the snot. Halfway through Bethany came in clutch, offering tissues from her brassiere. Your ears could’ve been tricking you, but you swear up and down there are sniffles echoing from the audience.

“Now that we all had a chance to collect our selves, our beautiful bride, your turn.” You nod, blinking in surprise when you notice there’s a wetness in his eyes, as well.

“That’s gonna be hard to follow,” you laugh, the witnesses laughing with you. “Eddie. My love. To say it is a miracle that I love you this much and you love me just as much is an understatement. It’s not just a miracle, it’s a dream come true. A dream I never knew I had. That day also started differently for me, in ways I still regret to this day,” you say, looking behind him to where Dylan stands. “You come downstairs with your wet hair and, well, you, and it is true more than I could describe that I did fall in love with you in that moment, too.” His tears aren’t as messy as yours was, but Steve comes in clutch with a tissue as well.

“Every day I’m with you, all other fears seem to fade and disappear. Nothing else matters, I can truly get through everything with you by my side. It’s no lie that I am outrageously attracted to you, but I don’t think anyone could blame me for it.” He laughs at this, rolling his eyes in dismissal. “It’s the only part of my attraction though, I will deny anyone that could even dare to insinuate otherwise. Until I met you, I never knew I could feel this loved, this happy or satisfied by anyone’s mere existence, alone.

With you, I am happy. Even when I’m not. With you, I am both protected and taken care of. The way you protect me, I will do the same. The way you take care of me, I will do the same. Your sweet selflessness will never be taken advantage of, in any such way. From the moment I saw you, Edward Munson, I knew. I will love you for the rest of my life.”

“Jesus Christ.” It wouldn’t have been too alien to guess that it was Eddie who said it, but the very sniffles and exclamation came from behind him, Steve using his suit jacket to wipe a tear away.

“You okay, bud?” Eddie asks, also using his tissue.

“Just marry the girl, already.”

“Well, we do have some papers to sign.” The pastor escorts you to where your legal papers sit, names written for everything except the date and final signitures.

Steve signs, followed by Bethany, both sporting shiny eyes. She winks her green eyes at you, handing you the pen. When you sign yours, Eddie places a kiss on your neck, sweet and gentle. When he signs his, your fingers cling to the silk material of his jacket.

“Well, I think you two have seemed to wait long enough. I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your bride.” Eddie doesn’t even bother waiting until the end of the sentence to grab your face and plant a kiss on your lips, knocking the air out from your lungs from the love that surrounds you. He doesn’t care about his audience, barely takes note of the applause that breaks out, kissing you in a way that you normally wouldn’t dare in front of your parents on a good day.

Who fucking cares, you’re announcing your love to the world, they’ll get over it.

The flashes of Jeremy Byer’s camera is in your face as you walk down the aisle of the church together, hand in hand with him, fingers nearly losing feeling in your fingers as he grips onto you tightly.

When you stop in the church corridor, all that can be felt is a sense of celebration. You did it. All you need to do now, is party. “Oh my god, finally.”

He chuckles, wrapping you in his arms. “Can I tell you something, love?” You nod, inhaling his sweet cologne. “The moment I saw you in this pretty dress I got rock hard.”

You lick your lips, eyeing him up and down. “You don’t think your words made me absolutely drenched, Ed?”

“Fuck.” Eddie mutters, kissing you sweetly again.

There wasn’t a moment to escape for a few hours, whisked off to an area surrounded by beautiful flowers and greenery to take pictures, surrounded by the wedding party. On the phone, all you communicated is that you needed someone to take pictures of the wedding party for portraits as well as individual shots of you and Eddie, and Jeremy was a complete gem.

As soon as the portraits are over, every portrait where you look in his eyes not feeling a hint of cheesiness or falsehood, you are to head back to the hotel conference room for a reception.

Traditional receptions usually hold a first dance, speeches, embarrassing moments, cake cutting ceremonies, etc. To be completely honest you don’t trust your best friend or his to make speeches that won’t embarrass the two of you completely. And rather than sit for dull speeches, you told Eddie all you wanted was to celebrate with him and a DJ playing all the songs the two of you love, the wild combination it is.

You told your dad you would dance with him for the song that would’ve been your father-daughter dance, but nearly no traditions kept up for the reception.

The hotel offered a few plates of entrees for your guests before the DJ announces you two as a married couple something you accepted with a small external deposit. Steve oversaw ordering 20 pizzas in varying flavours, the very thing you’ll be doing instead of cake or dinner.

You hold your new husband’s hand in excitement as the DJ announces your arrival, the first announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Munson to some dad-rock song that he personally requested.

Well, the only thing you really splurged on for the reception was the open bar.

You pet the curls at Eddie’s neck, swaying together to the first slow song that the DJ played. Your lips are already kiss-bruised from your long day spent kissing him, but it doesn’t possibly prevent you kissing him any more, every single one he gives you somehow making you dizzier than last.

“Baby.” He grunts, getting your attention. He nods behind you, gesturing to the left. You turn you head to face Arlo and Viti, her eyes shining bright as she stares up at him, dancing even slower than you were.

“I’m gonna have to accept that, aren’t I?” You say, noting the special way her face is cradled by his hand and the way she leans into it.

“Looks like it, sweets.” Eddie says, his eyes still on you when you look back to him.

You sigh, wrapping your hands around his neck. “Hey, I gotta get going, I’m getting exhausted.” You look over to face Wayne, grinning in his plaid and slacks.

“Of course, thanks for coming.” Eddie says, giving him a hug. “So glad you could meet her.”

“Are you kidding, Ed? With those vows? Next time I see you, you better warn me before you make me cry like that.” Wayne laughs winking. “I’m glad you two found each other.”

“Love you, Wayne.” You say, grabbing him in for a big hug. “It was so nice to meet you.”

Wayne hugs him, too, gripping onto him tightly. “Thanks for the open bar, you two.”

The way you surround yourself with your friends and family, dancing up and down as the music bumps, the lights down with strobe lights flashing. In the middle of it, Eddie starts kissing your neck hands roaming and making you feel everything.

Eddie tugs on your hand as he leads you to a crowded hallway, a dead end with nowhere to go to. Your back collides with the wall as he kisses you, feverously and deliciously hungry for you as you are for him. “Oh, sweet love, do you know how crazy you make me in that pretty dress?” His hands hurriedly make their way under the skirt of your dress, ruffling it up as he presses himself against you. “I have been mercilessly hard since the moment you started coming down that aisle, baby.”

“You gonna fuck me in the hallway, Eddie?” You ask, breathless, “Can’t hold back that badly?”

“From the moment I first kissed you, I haven’t been able to hold back from you, love. You think I can hold back when you drive me as crazy as you do?” His kisses trail down your neck, nibbling and simultaneously inhaling your scent. “My wife, my gorgeous, lovely, beautiful, bride.”

You gasp, head tilted up as he effortlessly lifts you by your hands lifting under your thighs. “Need your cock, Ed.”

“Yeah, you need me to fuck you ruthlessly, my love?”

You nod hands shaky as you attempt to undo his dress pants. “Please, Eddie.”

Eddie yanks your panties down your thighs, marveling at the lacy fabric. “Fuck, I need that sweet, tight, pussy.”

Before you knew it, Eddie was lining himself up with your entrance. “Fuck, hurry up, before someone comes for looking for us.”

“You think I care if someone walks in on me fucking my wife?” Eddie asks, and his question sounds genuine. “I couldn’t care less if someone walks in on us, at least they could get a good show, we could give ‘em someone to be jealous of, yeah?”

Hopelessly, you feel impossibly more turned on by his dirty perfect words.  “Then give me your big cock, Ed. Please.”

Eddie pushes into you, filling you completely. “Oh, there’s that cock drunk face I’ve been wanting to see.”

“Eddie, cock, so big!”

He doesn’t waste a second bucking into you, harsh and ruthlessly perfect. “Somehow your pussy gets better every time I fuck you, sweets. How tight you are, how perfect, oh, if I didn’t love it so much I would say it needs to be illegal.”

“The only thing that should be illegal, Ed, is how good you are with words.” Eddie laughs, hot breath down your neck. “God, you make me so happy…”

“Can’t wait to see you big and pregnant, sweets.” Eddie sighs, repeatedly bucking into you. “Wanna fill you with my babies.”

“Want your babies.” You gasp.

“Where the hell did they go?” Down the hall, you hear someone but it doesn’t occur that it even needs to matter. “God, need to put a bell on those two—oh my god!”

Your head turns to the noise, seeing your best friend standing in the hall with her eyes covered by her hands. “Either stay and enjoy the show,” Eddie stops to gasp, “or take off back to the hall.”

“I-I’m so sorry…I’ll see you in the dancing room,”

You giggle, tugging him in for a big kiss. “Sweet girl.” He laughs, starting to fuck you even harder.

“Cum in me, please, Eddie.” You beg, nails digging into the hair on his neck. “Wanna be filled with you.”

“I am going to keep you good and full on the honeymoon, my good whore,” Eddie mutters and you can feel him start to fall apart. “Gonna fuck you everywhere I can, put on a good show for everyone.”

You tighten around him, turned more than ever by his words. “I love you, Mr. Munson.”

He smiles, colliding his forehead against yours. “I love you, more, Mrs. Munson.”

You don’t know what it is about your new name, but it’s what gets the both of you off, Eddie’s cum filling you up deliciously.

Bethany avoids your eye as soon as you get into the room, and you’re sure she’ll get over it, not like you haven’t heard her and her ex-boyfriend many times.

“Hey, heard you traumatized your maid of honour.” Steve laughs, clutching a slice of pizza in one hand, and a drink of whiskey in the other.

You yank the piece, suddenly aware of how little you’ve eaten. “I thought she’d know better to walk in on us by now.” You laugh, taking a large bite.

Steve checks his watch, the very same hand you just yoinked the pizza from. “Doesn’t your flight take off in about the next three-ish hours?”

Eddie checks his, gulping in answer. “Oh, shit.” You check it with him, having a flight out that same night. “Should we get going, love?”

You nod, placing your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Let’s get going.”

Everyone applauds as you walk out in a sweet white dress, ready to take off to Cancun with your husband, walking down the lane surrounded by love.

Everyone gives you a hug, wishing you well on your long honeymoon.

“Don’t expect to hear from us!” You call, getting in the car that Eddie ordered.

-

The heat from sun is beautiful, sandals flopping in sync as you walk from the taxi that brought you to the hotel. “Jesus, Eddie.” You mutter, looking at your extravagant surroundings. “You did not need to spend this much on the hotel.”

“Well, get used to being spoiled, baby girl.” He mutters, leading you to the check in desk.

The check in attendant smiles sweetly, covertly putting one side of her hair behind one of her ears. She speaks with a thick Mexican accent, giving her best customer service smile. “Hi, checking in?”

“Yes, under the name Munson, please.” Eddie says, wrapping his arm around you.

“Oh, the honeymoon suite!” She exclaims, her smile brightening. “Well, to start, congratulations on your nuptials, and every request is completely fulfilled, no problem. As asked, we will not disturb your room unless absolutely necessary, and we have already booked the spa for your wife.”

“Spa?” You ask, eyebrow tilting towards him. “I love the sound of that.”

“Knew you would.”

“And you have a dinner reservation tonight at 7. Any questions, feel free to call the front desk, any time of the day,” she says, handing the card with the room number.

The floor level with your room only has a few rooms. Eddie taps his card on the door to open it, opening to a room with a damn kitchen suite and a separate room for the bed. “What the hell did you spend?” You ask him, mouth gapping open as your bags slip out of your bags.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, love.” Eddie walks to you, hands caressing your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. “C’mon, we have king bed I want to take advantage of.”

“What was that about no interruptions?” You ask him, petting his curls.

“You think we’re leaving this room for the next six hours?” he asks, lightly pushing you towards the double doors that open to the bedroom.

His words make you literally insane, wanting him more than you ever have. “W-what?”

“Baby, I am going to absolutely ravish you for so long you won’t even remember your own name.” He claims, already pulling the zipper down your back. “But you will remember your new last one.”

Your back is laid on the bed, Eddie pulling your panties down, biting on the second pair of lacey lingerie you wear for him in less than 24 hours. “Sweet girl, look how soaked you are for me.”

“Need you.” You grunt, anticipating Eddie finally tasting you from the feel of his hot breath on your pussy, sending shivers down your spine as Eddie places your legs over his shoulders.

Eddie kisses you, nose nuzzling in your intoxicating scent, his hilted nose hitting right up against your clit. “Fuck, are you wet, baby.”

“Can you blame me, I just married the hottest man alive!” You moan, heels pulling him in.

“My wife is the prettiest, and I will be spending my life making sure everyone around me knows how smoking hot you are. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meal to eat.”

Your hands fly into his short curls, lying restlessly as Eddie devours you. Your first orgasm takes over your body, invading every sense with mind numbing pleasure.

By the third one invades your body, everything is too much, feels too good, “Fuck! Eddie I can’t, I can’t!”

“You can, my girl, of course you can. Remember what I said about making you forget your name? I haven’t quite gotten there, yet.” He laughs, thumb circling your clit.

By the fifth orgasm you eventually learn that not even begging will stop him if he can help it. “You got a safe word, use it.”

His fingers hook in your warmth, driving you to another one, to which this point you’ve lost count. You swear you’re speaking to him, but in all truth, it is all incoherent. You’re trying to tell him how much you love him, and how good he makes you feel, but Eddie can’t make a single word out of it.

“What’s your name, hmm?” Eddie asks, spitting on your pussy dirtily.

You tell him, gasping for air.

“I see, still not enough yet.”

It takes 11 orgasms to finally drive you to the point where tears are falling from your eyes, both in happiness and straight pleasure. Eddie’s face is straight up soaked in you, the slick drenching his face like a beard. “Alright, beautiful wife, what’s your name?”

Your head lifts up, loopy at the idea that you even had a name to begin with. All that comes out is desperate gasps.

“There we go.” He mutters, crawling up your body. “Think you can handle my cock, or do you think you’re done, baby.”

Your hand reaches out for him, tugging him by his holiday shirt. You can’t communicate, all words left your brain, but you do know you still want his cock.

“Of course, I will still fuck my good girl.” Eddie answers, wiping the tears that fell down your face away.

You’re limp as he fucks into you, hands gripping your hips ruthlessly. All he can do is mutter how much he loves you, and how good of a girl you just were for him, and he could watch you fall apart all day, especially after marrying you.

He fills you up again, arms wrapping from behind you as you fell straight asleep, still muttering sweet nothings and wishes of his love.

-

The first thing that happens when you wake up, is your knees collapse from under you when you try to get up to use the bathroom.

After the mind numbing pleasure he just gave you, you suppose it only made sense. As you brush your teeth, he walks up behind you, his naked torso against your bare back as he kisses your neck gently. “Feel good?”

You laugh, almost choking on the toothpaste in your mouth. “Yes, baby.” You nod, spitting it into the sink. “It’s not past 7, is it?”

He turns you around to face him, giving you a sweet look of love. “Nope. Actually it’s in about an hour. Get ready, sweet stuff.”

“Actually, one minute.” You giggle, grabbing him by the hand before he can leave the bathroom.

“Hmm?” He asks, face questioning.

“Just need to do one thing…” You couldn’t help it, knowing he spent the better part of two hours just going down on you before you napped together. You get on your knees.

“What—oh, oh! Oh, fuck.”

After being bent over the sink in the bathroom, Eddie and you make your way into the front of the restaurant.

The host leads the way, sitting you in a corner of the dining room.

Eddie orders you a sweet cocktail and him a bourbon, eyeing you over the menu.

You returned the favour, making him cum twice before he finally begged to just fuck you.

The dinner is filled with your hopes and dreams, things you’ve been too worried to tell one another, scared of coming across too much.

Eddie wants to raise three kids with you. You agree, confessing how hard you fell for him after seeing him chase Eliza. He doesn’t plan on moving, but might if you asked him to.

You’re only working because you’re scared of relying on him, or making him feel like a bank. He doesn’t care, you can work or not, it’s completely up to you. Sometimes you worry about him being afraid to tell you when he is feeling too achy, joints too sore, or is not ready for something. Truly, honestly, Eddie is more worried about you thinking he’s too old for you.

It was never a worry to begin with, despite the 22-year age gap.

If you could stop asking yourself how it’s possible to keep falling for someone harder, you would.

When Eddie takes the dress you wear off, he’s whispering sweet promises, somehow even sweeter than the vows he told you.

It was two more rounds before you fell asleep in his arms once more.

-

Camille works her front desk, filling in some paperwork and starting her opening shift duties. “Hi Linda!” She says, greeting one of the maids who has been working there 15+ years. “Morning, Linda! Any updates?”

Linda leans in, as she always does when she has hot gossip. “Were you the one that checked in that newly wed couple yesterday?”

“Uh, Munsons on the eighth floor?” She asks, remembering the way he touched her ass so brazenly in front of her. “Yeah, I remember them.”

“Well every maid has heard them over the last 24 hours, they are relentless with one another.”

Camille resists from laughing, eyes bugging out of her head. “Like…?”

“Yes. Exactly like that.” She looks both ways before leaning in again.

“And trust me when I say they are loud.”

“Well, I guess I know why they didn’t want to be interrupted,” She laughs, barely holding back in laughter.

-

The hot sand lies underneath your towel, one foot bent, the other extended as your sunglasses barely shade you from the sun. One ear pod is in your ear, the other in Eddie’s, listening to a sweet mixture of both your music taste.

Eddie lies almost directly next to you, body in direct touch with yours. You’ve been there for barely an hour, sun cascading down on you. “Hey sweet thing,” Eddie starts, turning towards you, leaning on his elbow.

You take the earpiece out, lifting your head to look at your smoking hot husband. “Hmm?”

“C’mon, we’re going for a swim.” Eddie says, holding your hand out for your earpiece. “C’mon.”

You hand it to him, letting the dress you wear over your bathing suit fall off your body. “It’s unfair how hot you are.” He says, eyes appreciating you blatantly.

One of the only things you’ve kept from your relationship with your now stepson, (still weird), is the bathing suit you wore when you met Eddie. You made sure he didn’t see it until this moment, and it was worth the wait. Even as you run straight to the water, you’re utterly aware of how Eddie is chasing you, giggles invading the otherwise quiet beach as you splash into the water.

As you swim together, you can see the sweat that beads on his skin from the hot sun. You can’t help but splash him, enjoying every moment with him in the eerily blue water. “You like my swimsuit?”

He grabs you so your legs easily wrap around his waist, lips meeting the salt on his skin from the sweat. “Shut up, you knew exactly what you were doing, baby.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

He laughs, arms pulling you in tightly, so you feel the boner in his trunks. “You don’t think I don’t remember what you were wearing when I first met you, sweets?” One hand slips to your bikini bottom sliding it over. “Those pink strings stayed etched in my mind for days.”

One finger slides in, Eddie watching your reaction carefully. “Been thinking of ways to make you fall apart on a public beach ever since, and this is just one of them.”  He feels you tighten up around him in response, a smile slowly creeping on the face. “Making you cum in the water, no one will be the wiser if you keep quiet.”

You gulp, placing your head in the crook of his neck. “Oh, fuck, daddy.”

“I know you love to be watched, hmm, my little minx?”

You nod, barely holding in any of the gasps that leave your throat. “Love people to see you like this, I just know you do.”

“Gonna make you cum, then we’re gonna fuck hidden away from the rest of them, yeah?” You nod, nails digging into his shoulder.

The feeling takes over you, withering in his arms as you try to stay quiet. The sloshing of the water around the two of you certainly doesn’t help, however. “Eddie.”

“Hmm, if I didn’t know water sex actually feels terrible, I’d have put it in by now.” Eddie muses, still grinding his tent against your cunt, still uncovered.

Eddie eventually finds a little secluded area sort of by the water, yet somewhere people might still be able to cross accidentally. His cock his perfect as it hits the spot repeatedly, and he doesn’t even give up after the first time he fills you up. “Listen to you whine for me like a little slut.” He moans, untying the strings on your neck to reveal your tits. “I bet everyone on that beach can hear you.”

At this point you didn’t even care. “Let them listen.”

He laughs, sighing into your neck. “Whatever you say, pretty girl. Just keep taking this cock, let the chips fall where they may.”

-

It’s a miracle your stuff wasn’t stolen off the beach.

Eddie sends you to the spa, demanding you get everything and anything that tickled your fancy. When asked why he didn’t want to follow you, he gives the vaguest explanation in the world, and unfortunately he’s stubborn enough to wait until you give in.

So, a full body massage, a pedicure, sitting in a mud bath just because you can, and you come back to the hotel room feeling more pampered than you knew was possible. “Hey, Ed—” You stop short as soon as the red flower petals that lead you to the bedroom come into sight. “What--?”

All you can do is follow the giggles that radiate from the room.

The double doors open to him, sitting next to a table with a supper on it. “How you feelin, sweets?”

“Pampered.” You answer honestly, your feet twisting nervously.

“Good.” Eddie answers, picking up a dress you knew he had bought in light of being the only one to ever see you wear it. It’s…revealing…to say the least. “Put that on, then come sit down with me.” As his eyes rake down your body, lucky isn’t even close to how you’re feeling. “Man, I’m good.”

“What’s all this for?”

“Do I need a reason to spoil you?”

You laugh, sitting when he pulls the chair out for you. “No, I’m just—”

“I get it.” Eddie offers, sitting across the small table. “It feels a bit much, to me, too. But man, I need you to know how much I love you, sometimes or I will melt.”

Do I even need to tell you how the evening ended? I’ll give you a hint; love bites that cover your neck, passed your breast, and trailing all the way to your pussy.

-

“Since when do you dance, anyway?” You ask him after he tells you the purpose of your walk for the night.

“Since grinding against you in a club was an option.” Eddie answers, laughter bubbling behind in his voice.

He leads you through a crowd of people dancing to a Latin beat, heavy on horns and percussion. He doesn’t give you a chance to even hesitate, his fingers strong on your exposed hips from the cut out in your dress, his knee planting itself in between your legs.

The heat makes his curls frazzle, the constant salt on his skin sweet. From the last two weeks spent in the sun, he’s starting to get a sun-kissed glow. His hand intertwines itself into your hair, tugging on the scalp as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, somehow still moving his hips against yours simultaneously.

“This is the best feeling.” He mutters, not expanding any more.

“What?” You mewl, your hips truly starting to give in to the beat.

“Knowing I have the hottest girl here.” He states, as if it’s a straight fact.

“Imagine how I feel.” You state, knowing for a fact no one even compares to his level.

Eddie turns you around, mouth kissing against your neck as your hand lands on the curls that now are surprisingly already getting some growth again.

He can’t stop his wondering hands. He never can. As if he has the strength to. They never actually touch anything, but they do grab at your ass, your thighs, even feel your tit up. Eddie loves the heat that radiates your pussy, a signal of how fantastic he makes you feel, and how much you want him, no matter where you are.

As you hop bar to bar, drink to drink, dance to dance, by the time you stumble back into the hotel room together you’re both so revved up, you don’t even bother taking your clothes off.

Your reputation throughout the hotel is how intensely you feel for one another, how badly you love each other, and usually they’d just chop it up to newlyweds, but this was a different intensity. Most of the maids haven’t even seen your faces, but they know for a plenty of intimate details just from cleaning on the same floor.

There’s not a single noise complaint, as the floor of the newlywed suites are basically made to make it your oasis.

By the end of the third week, you get homesick for your little house with him, homesick for your own bed. Eddie has spent all the time in the world ravishing you wherever he can, and it would be a lie to say you didn’t spend a single second on your knees in a public setting.

Camille, a woman who has spent the three weeks recommending local restaurants and helping Eddie with his little schemes, helps you check out and speaks to you over the desk as if you were an old friend. “By the way, I hope you know you two have gained quite the reputation here. Have a safe flight.”

Eddie’s truck is in the driveway when you get home, Steve promising to bring it back as one of his many best-man duties.

As your back hits your back, it’s better than ever to be home, glancing up at the popcorn ceiling. As you’re lying down, you notice a slight ache in your nipples that isn’t very normal for you. No mind, you would grab a test from under the sink and take it just in case.

Is…is that two lines? Is that two lines?

That’s definitely two lines.

“Shit.”

-

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken

Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyss @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @spencerssatchel @bl4ckt00thgr1n @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @vintagehellfire @hellfirefiend @kittydeadbones @luumunson @uncxmfxrtablex @eddiesgfffffffffff @hkurbsjundebi @eddies-puppet @joantje @novelnovella @shady-the-simp @lma1986 @mischieftom @strangerfan3691 @crayongirl-linz @dumblittlebunbun @ick90 @emilyshortcake @lemonmintseltzer @joannamuns9n

[buckets-of-dirt]

(ID: A screenshot of tags that read "#Prev what are some alternatives to the word primitive that are less derogatory" /end ID.)

@panicdeleter I'm responding to your question on a new post so that the op of the original doesn't get this in their notes because answering in good faith is going to take a lot of explanation.

Short answer: there isn't one.

Long answer: as you say in your tags, "primitive" is a derogatory term with a very loaded meaning. Removing it from your vocabulary is less a matter of finding a more PC alternative, and more a matter of understanding why it's derogatory and changing your perception of what's being discussed. To do that, we're going to have to look at archaeological theory for a minute. Stick with me, I do have suggestions at the end.

Archaeological theory is a complicated subject and there's no way I'm going to try to summarize all of it in a Tumblr post since it's a topic arch programs devote at least a semester (if not longer) to. So we'll focus on the relevant bits.

Essentially, in the bad old days when archaeology was starting to become a discipline instead of a thing rich dudes did on the weekends, there was this idea that certain European societies were the peak of civilization and everywhere else was less evolved and therefore primitive. It was based on the misunderstanding of the theory of evolution that was common at the time. Like so:

(ID: a diagram drawn in pen. It's titled "Ye Olde Arch/Anth Theory TM". The next line says "Primitive = simple, less evolved, bad". Below it there is a vertical arrow pointing down, with the words "one way line" next to it. Under the arrow there is a line of text reading "Advanced = complex, most evolved, good". /end ID.)

These early archaeologists believed that all of humanity lived on a hierarchy with the "advanced" societies they lived in (and their ancestors like Ancient Greece) at the top and all the "primitive" past and current societies (destined to either become like them or die out eventually) at the bottom.

It's been a long road for archaeological theory. The 20th century was fraught with theoretical movements and debates that sometimes literally devolved into fistfights. But eventually we all ended up more or less here:

(ID: A hand drawn diagram in a similar format to the one above. It's titled "Arch Theory Today (Short Version). Below the title there is a single line of text centred around a horizontal line with arrows at both ends. The left side of the arrow reads "simple" while the right side reads "complex". The line itself is labeled "continuum or spectrum". /end ID.)

While you'll still find some archaeologists who disagree, the main consensus appears to at least be on the same page that instead of the old primitive vs advanced hierarchy, societies exist on a spectrum that ranges in complexity. In the most basic terms, because I'm glossing over A LOT of nuance here, hunter gatherer societies tend towards the simple end of the spectrum while big state societies are on the more complex end. This is not meant as a value judgement of these societies, but merely an attempt to classify them so other people have a frame of reference for what you're talking about. Even so, there's considerable debate about the language used for certain terms and societies, and I am not necessarily qualified to go into that in this post.

I say all that to help you understand why I can't give you a catch-all term to replace "primitive", because if one did exist it would be just as derogatory. In certain contexts there may be more appropriate words that you can use, such as simple (as in the case of the meme that inspired this post) or old. But a lot of the time an alternative just doesn't exist because we are not better or 'more evolved' than our ancestors any more than people living in big state societies are any better than people still living as hunter gatherers.

I know this has been a very long post, but I really am just scratching the surface here. For more information I suggest looking at podcasts like The Dirt or A Life In Ruins, youtube channels like The Welsh Viking or Archaeology Tube, or the blogs of any of my fellow dirt lovers here on Tumblr like @chaotic-archaeologist, @micewithknives, @art-thropologist, @archaeologistproblems, and @rhysintherain to name just a few. Archaeologists are generally a bunch of nerds who will take any opportunity they can to talk about the human past, and we rarely bite.

[whumpshaped]

anon asked:

Okay I know it's been like a month since you posted it but do you have any extra inspiration or similar for the one where whumpee wasn't allowed on furniture and caretaker allows them on furniture??? Because that was so good 😊

(I'm not good with asks I'm sorry if this was a problem)

---

prev

tw accidental bad caretaker, past trauma, pet whumpee, conditioning

"Remember the first time you mustered up the courage to get on here?" Caretaker asked with an amused smile, carding their fingers through Whumpee's hair. The former 'pet' was lounging on the sofa with them, head in their lap — something that would've been unimaginable just a year ago. "You freaked out when I came home early. It was a disaster."

Whumpee hummed.

"I got so scared for a moment when it happened," they went on. "I thought there was something actually serious going on! And then it just turned out to be the furniture dilemma. I'm so glad we're past that, hm?"

"Can we stop talking about it?" Whumpee mumbled, and Caretaker's smile faltered.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't realise–"

"I know. Not like it's actually serious."

Caretaker's cheerful attitude vanished, and they finally noticed just how tense Whumpee was. They withdrew their hand, and sure enough, Whumpee sat up and pressed themself into the opposite corner of the sofa. "Hey... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"Of course not."

"I know it was serious to you."

"I thought I was going to be whipped within an inch of my life," Whumpee said bluntly. "Yes, we could say it seemed quite serious to me at the time. But I guess it makes for a good funny-embarrassing story to tell over dinner."

Caretaker averted their eyes. "It's not embarrassing to have trauma. I just wanted to remind you how far you've come."

"Not that far, I guess." Whumpee gently eased themself down onto the floor. For a brief moment, Caretaker thought they did it out of spite; but Whumpee's burning red cheeks told another story. "Because now that you brought it up, I... I can't stay on there. I guess we're not really past it. And I was rude, so I have to balance that out as well, and... I don't know. I don't know. But the funny jokes about it have to wait for a couple more months."

"Whumpee, you weren't rude to me. Even if you had been, you wouldn't have had to–"

"I don't need explanations. I know. It doesn't make sense. It's a major step back. A disaster."

"I'm sorry," Caretaker said softly. "I wasn't trying to make it into a joke, and I wasn't trying to embarrass you. It's not a disaster, it's not a setback, I'm sorry for making you feel like it was anything to be ashamed of. Okay?"

Whumpee sighed and hugged their knees. "You don't have to explain yourself. I'm sorry for being so defensive."

"You can be as defensive as you want. It was insensitive of me. I just thought... I don't know. I thought you'd feel... proud of yourself. But I shouldn't have drawn attention to it."

Whumpee didn't respond. Caretaker slowly inched a bit closer, reaching out as carefully as they could to pet their friend's hair. Whumpee let them.

"I won't mention it again," they promised.

"Thanks," Whumpee muttered. "I... I don't like to think about it. Whenever I do, I... I get scared again."

Caretaker nodded. "It's okay to be scared. But please know it's unfounded. I won't ever hurt you for things like this. I won't ever hurt you for anything, okay?"

Whumpee looked up at them, awfully vulnerable. They looked like they wanted to ask something, but it caught in their throat. "Okay," they said eventually, and buried their face in their knees again. "I understand."

[bidisasterevankinard]

but what if, just what if (inspired by my prev post)

This happens

before this

but after this

So, Buck and Eddie played with Tommy, Tommy said something about his bf/ex-bf and how it was his first relationship after coming out and Chim and Hen are surprised and Tommy confirms he came out after moving stations.

Buck hears it and he already had questions about himself, and Tommy's story made him questioning himself more and he feels so so emotional that he just come outs to Eddie but in the way "I feel that Tommy's story made me questions myself even more. I don't know what to do." And Eddie offers him to go talk to Tommy again and even comes with Buck because Buck is scared to go alone

And Tommy talks to him, explains what he felt and with what he dealt and Buck feels so so so relived because yes it sounds so like him, but also he still scares but Tommy and Eddie supports him

What then? WHAT THEN

[ladyofthenoodle]

reblog with the name of the fic in the tags (and pay it forward by checking out the fic in prev tags!)

[bluerose5]

Zevran & Astarion Banter Pt. 15/?

Double post kind of day, it seems. Got hit with that inspiration out of nowhere. 💙

[First] [Prev] [Next]

...

Zevran: Astarion, my love.

Astarion: Yes, darling?

Zevran: You are staring again.

Astarion: Yes, I am.

Zevran: And smiling! Positively beaming, as a matter of fact.

Astarion: Mm-hmm...

Zevran: Haha! So much for subtlety then?

Astarion: Hard to be subtle after last night. You were wonderful. We were wonderful together. As if I expected anything less.

Zevran: I must say, it was quite different than what I have grown accustomed to. In a good way, I mean. A lot more emotions and vulnerability involved.

Astarion: And a lot of generosity from you.

Zevran: *laughs* Yes, that too, of course.

Astarion: Don't laugh. *smiles wider, leans in closer, and lowers his voice* You really seemed to enjoy that.

Zevran: Well, you have so much to celebrate as of late. I wanted there to be no doubt that it was your night, and I was more than happy to indulge you. Why? Does that surprise you?

Astarion: I don't know. Maybe? I am simply unused to having the attention centered on me in such a way.

Zevran: Then, what a shame that is. You are certainly one worthy of worship.

Astarion: Careful with what you say, love, or I might have to tie you up and keep you all to myself.

Zevran: Don't threaten me with a good time, or do, actually. You'll hear no complaints out of me. Although, now that you mention it, do you think Tav will notice if some of their precious rope supply goes missing?

Astarion: We could always help ourselves to a little sample and see. Seriously though, last night was— Well, it was special to me.

Zevran: It was special to me, too, my dear. Have no doubt about it.

[btsgotjams27]

All Grown Up ~ JJK | Epilogue

✨ title: all grown up | series ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: R/18+ ~ minors dni ✨ genre/au: romance, fluff, angst, friends-to-lovers, humor, banter, smut, age gap, best friends little brother ✨ author’s notes: I won’t be updating this series on Tumblr. Please continue this series on AO3 or Wattpad. Links below. This fic is inspired by the k-drama, Something in the Rain. ✨ author’s notes 2: okay, so i do plan on editing the rest of this series! i just don’t know when it’ll be done. ✨ author's notes 3: omfg. i'm finally done editing this fic?? it's literally taken me a whole year bc i've been lazy/busy lmfao. welp, we're finally here! and there will be a small drabble and jin pov i'll be posting soon! ✨ can also read on AO3 or Wattpad

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] prev | next ✨ drabble - netflix and...

✨ epilogue | wc: 1.2k ✨ warnings: illusions to sex, kissing

The day of Yuna and Namjoon’s wedding was pure chaos. A day before, you receive a call about all floral arrangements being delayed because of the hurricane. The truck carrying everything wouldn’t make it in time for the wedding, which meant you and the other bridesmaids were running around with your heads cut off trying to find flowers for the wedding.

“Bora, bring those flowers over to the king's table,” you gestured to the arrangement sitting by the gift table. At this point, you were lucky to get any flowers for the wedding. It didn’t matter if they were cohesive or not.

“The king's table?” Bora clenched her teeth, looking around to figure out what you were referring to.

“The table we’re all sitting at!” you yelled. God, did you have to do everything yourself?

“Oh--right. Got it .” Bora hurried off, not wanting to be scolded by you again.

You told yourself never to agree to be anyone else’s maid of honor. It was just too stressful. If you were to marry in the future, you noted it would just be an elopement.

Looking at your list, there were still a few things that needed to be checked before you could head off to hair and make-up. There were only a few more hours until the wedding started.

“Need any help?” Jungkook asked, sneaking in from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You peered quickly at him before returning to your clipboard. “Yes, please. Here take these and bring them to table seven.”

“You got it, boss,” he said before giving a quick peck on your lips before doing as he was asked.

Your eyes widened, looking around to make sure no one was watching. “Kook! What if someone sees?!”

He smiled and ran off. Were you excited that you and Jungkook were finally together? Yes, but only a few people knew about your relationship. The next big thing was to tackle your mom, but you didn't even want to think about that right now. You’d deal with that later.

You heard your name, and quickly, you turned to see Yuna running to you.

“The flowers are set up on the tables as we speak, and your bouquet is here. I'll put it in your room, and then I'll return after getting ready.” Your eyes scanned the rest of your checklist, ensuring everything went smoothly.

“Thank you. You're a godsend. I don't know what I'd do without you,” Yuna said, pulling you in for a hug.

You straightened and wrapped your arm around hers. “Let's not find out...again,” you chuckled.

After the hectic morning, you were able to find some time to quiet down and get ready. You slip on the sage green velvety off-the-shoulder bridesmaid dress, the gold drop-down pearl earrings, and the strappy beige Jimmy Choos. You took one last look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing your bouquet filled with eucalyptus, peonies, and blush pink roses.

Stepping out of your door, you found Jungkook leaning against the wall, looking dapper in a three-piece navy suit and hair slicked back, showing off his defined and chiseled jawline. You could kiss that jawline all day if you could. He took one look at you, mouthed a 'wow,'and whistled.

You narrowed your eyes at your hunky man. “Shut up.”

He stepped closer to you and took your hand, spinning you around to get a better look. “Damn, you're sexy,” Jungkook groaned in delight.

“Shhh —”

“You should dress like this more often so I can take everything off.”

“KOOK!”

He laughed and grinned as he tried to bring you in for a kiss. You tried to push him away, but he held on tighter. “I'm not letting go until I get a kiss from you.”

“You're trying to get us caught.”

“Mmhm, I want everyone to know we're together.” He let out a soft giggle as you rolled your eyes.

“Fine. God, you're so bad.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Admit it. You like it.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Ouh, you're kinky.”

“Okay---I'm leaving.” You tried to pull away from him again, but he chuckled and rolled you right back into his arms as he gave you a back hug.

“I'm kidding. I love seeing you like this. Flustered, that is,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your right shoulder, making his way up to your neck, leaving subtle marks behind. You let out a slight whine as he continued.

“I'm going to have to cover up these marks if you keep going.”

“Mm…” He continued, not caring in the world if anyone walked by.

You weren't sure if he even heard you. “Koo…” you muttered softly. He pressed deeper into your skin, and your head began falling back into him. You quickly turned around to face him. “You have five minutes. FIVE!”

“I can do that.” He grinned as he opened the door to your room, letting you go in first.

You quickly straightened your dress and grabbed your shoes, scrambling to get yourself ready again. You ran to Yuna's dressing room and knocked lightly.

“Yuna..?” you muttered before opening the door, peering in to see her sitting in front of the vanity.

“Finally, where have you been?” she asked, putting on a diamond earring.

“Sorry I got held up,” you said, closing the door behind you.

Yuna laughed as she took a look at her best friend. “Uh huh--I can clearly see.” She was pointing to the nipple pasty stuck to the side of your dress.

“OH SHIT –” You quickly grabbed it and tucked it into place. Fucking Jungkook–you told him not to remove the pasty, but he wouldn’t listen. He just had to feel all of you.

“Spare me the details,” Yuna chuckled while matting down her hair.

You nervously chuckled and began walking over to her. She turned to the mirror, taking in one last look before it was time to go. “You look gorgeous. Namjoon is going to cry.”

“He's definitely going to cry.”

You leaned down to hug her from behind. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

The wedding was beautiful and everything you and Yuna had dreamed about when you were younger. After Yuna and Namjoon's first dance, the MC invited everyone else to join in. You sat there with twinkles in your eyes, watching your best friend so happy. Then you felt a tap on your shoulder. Jungkook stood there with his hand out.

“May I have this dance?”

You gazed at the doe-eyed young man, asking so sweetly. “What about my mom?” you asked, worried about what she would think.

“She'll just think we're being friendly,” Jungkook suggested with a sly smile and puppy dog eyes.

You bit your bottom lip, hesitating to take it. You weren’t just worried about your mother. A slew of people you knew would whisper and gossip about the two of you.

“Come on. I promise I'll behave.”

If there were no one around, you’d dance the night away. You loved the thought of being in his arms–kissing, giggling, touching…

“You better.”

“I don't know if you'll behave, though.”

You lightly hit him in the chest as you stood up. He led you to the dance floor and held you close with one hand on the small of your back, the two of you swaying to the song playing. His honey-brown eyes glistened from the night sky, his smile beaming from ear to ear, revealing the cutest dimple carved within his cheek.

“What..?”

“...I love you,” you softly said as you reached up and pressed your lips against his, forgetting where you were, forgetting all the complexities that came along with your relationship. Nothing else mattered at that moment—just you and him.

✨ previous ~ you deserve everything and more

✨ next ~ drabble - netflix and..

[hangmanbradshaw]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @urmomsonfire and I figured I should keep going with the writing questions today!!! (thanks kale, love u)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 17

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 796,198 (do we think I can crack a million in close to a year we'll see)

3. What fandoms do you write for? I'm still living in Top Gun summer so I'll just be vibing here for a while

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

i want to brainwash you into loving me forever (nfl fake dating au)

baby, i'm howlin' for you (wolves & foxes au)

i can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland (rival princes au)

loose lips sink ships all the damn time (pirates au)

Love (Suite Love) (my travlor inspired AU lmao)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to!! I'm really behind right now because I get really sucked into writing (and life, been very busy with my social calendar at the moment) but eventually I'll go through and catch up. Writing like this is for community, ya know? Engagement? Making friends, being crazy together, it's the vibe. (Plus every time a comment notification dings, an idea angel gets its wings lmao it's my fave part- talking to people)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Unhappy ending? Don't know her. I guess you can make my wish come true just cuz it ends with them deciding to kidnap the president and cyclone being like oh my god

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? it's 2am and i'm cursing your name is pretty stupid sweet but also wanna be your left hand man/iwtby left off prettyyyyyyy sweet

8. Do you get hate on fics? Everyone's always been sooooo sweet.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? *glances at my work from the corner of my eye* yes. just yes.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? My mummy fic has actual mummy characters. But I've written a lot of like inspired ones? Some loose, some closer. One based off the Mummy, one that's a mummy/national treasure crossover LMAO, one off Jurassic Park, one off Twister, one off Beauty & the Beast kinda, one off princess & the frog, one kinda princess diaries 2/how to lose a guy BUT I actually have an insane idea I came up with recently that would be a uhhhhhhh crossover I guess........I'm giggling as I think about it

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I don't think so? I hope not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? some people have asked! So maybe soon.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? nope! but I love to riff with other writers. i'm way too particular about my own work to co-write probably tbh

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Hangster currently! prev: buddie, destiel, sharpay/gabriella from hsm (leave me alone lmao).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? if I post I am going to make myself finish but I have some I've never posted that I doubt I'll finish (one's a rivals fake dating destination wedding)

16. What are your writing strengths? I'd say melancholic fluffy humor and banter, others have told me world building and being lowkey emotional

17. What are your writing weaknesses? being concise and angst actually- I struggle with that sometimes

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Amazing when people can do it, but I tend to avoid writing it since I'm not fluent.

19. First fandom you wrote for? High School Musical and then I took a massive break and started with Top Gun again.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? I love all my babies for different reasons but IWTBY & That Little Farm are currently my true loves

Tagging anyone who wants to do this, also @paulmezcal as a welcome to tumblr (no pressure you def don't have to do it haha)

[ruiniel]

Prickly thorns, tender roses

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Rating: Mature🔞

Relationship: Alucard/Original Female Character

Characters: Alucard, Original Character(s)

Summary:

Set after the events of Castlevania (Netflix) Season III. After the betrayal of his young apprentices, Alucard feels barely alive in his lonesome castle. Days wear on, chipping away at his mind and sanity. And what is the son of Dracula to do with this unwanted visitor, suddenly come at his doorstep? Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses - Ovid

Chapter tags & warnings: Inspired by Castlevania, Canon Divergence, POV Original Character, Post-Castlevania Season 3, Non-Canon Relationship

PART I

AN: first Alucard longfic from 2020. Heavily follows ‘Beauty and the Beast’ trope.

< PREV NEXT >

XVII. Hidden knowledge

“Well, is it the seventh shelf or the eighth?”

Ravenna peered into the immense register, her finger trailing down a page with embellished swirling writings, searching under the letter ‘A’. “It should be the seventh,” she called to Adrian, who was currently facing one among thousands of towering shelves making part of the Belmont body of knowledge.

The young woman lost herself in her reading once again, but without intending to, her eyes strayed from the yellowed veal pages, searching for Adrian. He was approaching, carrying several tomes.

Since her wrists were in no proper working condition for her to be carrying things or climbing precarious stairs, he’d agreed to aid with her pursuit and retrieve the heavier materials needed for her studies.

Dust rose from the stack of books as Adrian placed them on her reading table. “Anything at all yet?”

Ravenna sighed and shrugged, resigned. “I’ve not found any pertinent piece of knowledge to aid me, no. But there must be something here. There must.” She looked towards the endless shelves burdened with works she may never get to read. “This is going to be awhile…” Ravenna then turned an apologetic gaze on Adrian, but his face was as impassive as usual.

“Take the time you need,” he said, one long finger reaching to trace the cover of one tome stacked on top of the pile. His gaze slowly drifted back to hers. “You once said you may have use of transmutation for your attempted serum.”

Ravenna slumped her shoulders forward in another sigh, her hands in her hair, ruffling the strands in circular motions. Her eyes were closed and a tired frown creased her brow. “Yes, a by-product from the transmutation of the prima Materia.”

“The first matter, used among other things to create the philosopher’s stone,” Adrian said thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Ravenna met his eyes, somewhat intrigued her host was privy to the details of this. “Which leads to another issue. There is no surviving knowledge on the transmutation of prima Materia.”

“None at all?” Adrian raised an eyebrow.

Ravenna crossed her arms. “Well, not unless you have a decrypted copy of the Emerald Tablet.” She knew it was impossible. The ancient work had never been accurately deciphered by any known scholar to date, its secrets disputed but never fully revealed, or demonstrated.

Seeing her disappointment rankled him peculiarly. “I think it is time I left you,” Adrian said, then looked at her wrists. “I do not believe you can lift the platform latch—“

Ravenna looked at the manuscripts splayed before her. “No… I’ll come up with you.” She regarded the darkened vault, sparsely lit by the artificial lights, which Adrian had told her were fueled by lightning. He’d explained the method used was one inspired by a work that had once belonged to the vast library of Alexandria, and somehow survived its burning and subsequent destruction; how his father had come upon this knowledge during his many centuries of travels.

As she joined him, Alucard said nothing, but followed her with his gaze, placing the latch back when they had both stepped onto the wooden platform.

The need Ravenna felt in his presence was not as compulsive as before when she had to actively avoid him for fear of doing something ghastly. But it was ever there in the back of her mind and chest. Despite this, she could still barely keep away from him for too long, and Adrian did appear less reclusive and hesitant where she was concerned. That was progress, she supposed. As were most midnights Ravenna would fall asleep curled onto the divan in the study, rather than her chamber. It was warmer there, not as removed from the strategic kitchen area, and it was certainly comfortable. There was also the fact that he spent his time there most evenings, and ever since the encounter with the hunters, Ravenna found it was better when he was near. She could not exactly tell the reason or fully grasp it in mind or spirit, but she heard and felt him differently when they were close. She often thought she heard barely discernible, repeatable sounds, not her own, reaching as far as her lower abdomen.

“Hungry?”

She refocused her vision to find Adrian staring at her, half a smile on his lips.

Ravenna shrugged. “Is that an offer or merely taunting? I have not had time to find any eggs or—”

He waved her thought away. “I have something in the making. But first...”

Their eyes met.

As before, and ever since the recent happening in the woods, Ravenna felt something raging in her ears, her throat, down her chest and belly whenever she stared into those unique beams of gold.

“Join me,” Adrian urged, stepping off the platform when they reached the outside world.

Her curiosity piqued, Ravenna followed him as she shielded her weary eyes from the blazing sun, noticing in passing that it was midday.

Soon enough, they were walking the castle corridors together and Ravenna saw they were heading to the library.

“This way.” He led her to the eastern side of the curved dome structure, pausing before a line of racks. He then took a wooden stair and climbed it to the top, his gaze searching.

Following his catlike movements, her traitorous mind began its dribbling anew. Her eyes lingered on his well-knit frame, his deceptively frail appearance. The elegant way he moved and touched things. The way he’d touched her when circumstances had demanded it.

She still vividly recalled the copper color of his eyes then, the rigid set of his shoulders. Ravenna debated whether to ask if the blood sharing had any effects in the aftermath; if it had done something to her, to them both. But then she blushed and buried the notion, thinking she would need to explain the effects and sensations plaguing her.

“This one here,” Adrian’s voice brought her back to reality.

He took a green tome in hand and descended to face her, presenting the item.

Her eyes widened when reading the authorship. “Hermes Trismegistus... this is a copy of the Corpus Hermeticum!” Her gaze locked with his, her heart pounding with newfound strength.

“An alternate version Trismegistus himself wrote, annotated, among others, with the deciphering of your Emerald Tablet.”

Her head was spinning, and Ravenna felt faint. “You... you had this all along?”

He was smiling, now of all times. “Apparently I did. And now you have it.”

“This is a treasure in itself!” Her voice was full of wonder. Then Ravenna frowned, eyes cutting to him. “Again, you let me...” Then realization struck. “You did not trust me enough.”

Alucard crossed his arms in a detached shrug. “I allowed you your research.”

Ravenna was too happy and grateful to be upset. All her attention reverted to the manuscript, fingers reverently tracing the faded illuminations. “There is yet more to do, but this saves me months, possibly years!” She wanted to embrace him so much but somehow succeeded in reining herself in, thinking he may not appreciate it. “Thank you, Adrian,” Ravenna said with honesty.

Adrian only watched her, and there was that bizarre silence again where each appeared to have something to say, but none would speak. Ravenna noticed how light streaking through the window played in his hair, over his features. He was alight with the sun indeed, this unusual creature she at first feared and even loathed. It was cruel and bitterly amusing at the same time to think she could barely keep away from him now. Did he see it? Did he know? She thought it wouldn’t matter either way.

“I will see you later, then? For the evening meal?”

The words took her by surprise. “Yes... yes, certainly,” Ravenna blurted after a moment of hesitation, still shaken by the discovery and now duly intrigued by this unexpected offer.

“Until then,” Adrian turned away, his long stride taking him toward the engine room.

Ravenna followed him with her gaze until he disappeared from view, and for moments unnumbered stood still in the endless library of the once greatest of vampire lords, holding the invaluable tome to her chest.

< PREV NEXT >

[th1s1smyw0nd3rland]

Vampires Dream Too (Part 3)

Sandman x TVD crossover

Morpheus x reader! Salvatore sister

Uses fem!Y/N and third person POV, minimal description of Y/N just cause she’s a Salvatore so she’s gonna look similar to Stefan and Damon

Word Count: 3472

prev part next part

(( inspired by a post by @kpopgirlbtssvt​ ))

Y/N’s eyes opened and she slowly sat up, her hand coming to her head as her dream replayed in her head. She wondered if what happened really, truly happened but with her lack of thirst, she found her question answered and her hand moved from her head to brush against her lips. The feeling of his blood flowing down her throat replayed in her head and her eyes closed as she remembered the taste so vividly. A slight flush was shown on her cheeks but she quickly waved it away, her eyebrows furrowing as Damon stormed into the room.

“Where is he?” He asked and she stood, her hand coming up to his arm but he brushed her away, his eyes searching the room.

“Who are you looking for, brother?” She asked, “Stefan?”

“Yes, Stefan! He’s not answering my calls,” Y/N patted her pockets for her phone, quickly picking it up from the table as she spotted it and she dialed Stefan’s number, her head tilting as it rang for a moment before going to voicemail. “Apparently he’s not answering you either. Fine. Time to check with Elena.” “Wait! I’m coming with!” Y/N called and she quickly grabbed her coat, looping her arms through the sleeves as she jogged to catch up with Damon. As the two made their way to Elena’s, Y/N asked Damon what was going on, her eyebrows furrowing as she realized how much she missed. According to her older brother, there was a mysterious vampire hunter around, which Y/N did happen to know about but decided not to share that with her brother, wondering if that was why Stefan was meeting with Klaus. When they arrived at the Gilbert residence, her eyes widened as Damon just walked in, leaving her to stand outside the doorway for she had not been invited in. Her hands leaned against each side of the doorframe, her mouth opening to call out to her brother but she rolled her eyes as he was already up the stairs, hearing him and Elena speaking. She looked around the part of the house she could see, sensing it out and she realized that Jeremy, the younger Gilbert wasn’t actually home so he wouldn’t even be able to give her permission to walk in. With a huff, she turned away and her eyes searched the neighborhood, the annoyance quickly growing as Damon and Elena spoke of their night out drinking but Y/N chose not to bother inserting herself into that situation. Last time I did, it literally killed me, she thought to herself and she contemplated leaving when the two barged out of the house. 

“The hunter has hostages at the Grill,” Damon said to her quickly and she nodded, following behind as the two made their way to the grill, “And Stefan is playing sergeant.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked but before Damon could answer, her phone rang and she placed it to her ear once she saw Stefan’s name, “Stefan? What’s going on?” 

“The hunter has Matt, Jeremy and April. I’ll meet you guys at Alaric’s apartment,” Stefan said before hanging up and Y/N stared at the screen for a moment before looking up at them.

“To Alaric’s apartment,” Y/N said and she gestured for Damon to lead them, making him roll his eyes before he started walking, “We need a game plan, brother.”

“Oh, so you take his side now?”

“What is with you two and sides? Are the hostages not friends of yours? One of them being Elena’s brother? Sure, Jeremy can come back with the ring but what of Matt and this April? You may not care, Damon but are they not important to Elena?” Damon’s eyes narrowed at his little sister’s words before looking at Elena, who gave him a look that basically agreed with everything Y/N had said. 

“Whatever,” Damon muttered after a moment and Y/N did a walk of the building that stood at the perfect spot to look at Mystic Grill, Damon and Elena going up to the apartment. The youngest Salvatore moved ever so quietly around the area, not wanting to get too close to the Grill but she explained that no one besides them and their friends knew she was here, so the hunter wouldn’t be looking for her. She mainly wanted to gauge any traps the hunter might have placed outside, not heading to the apartment until she was sure there were none. When she walked up the stairs and looked into the open doorway, her eyes widened as she saw Stefan gently laying Damon onto the couch.

“What the Hell did you do??” Y/N cried, pushing Stefan slightly as she knelt next to Damon and she looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“I can’t trust him to do what I need him to do, Y/N. He will wake up after a while, hopefully when Klaus’s hybrid gets Connor.”

“Your way? You can’t trust him when he was the one struck by you?”

“Please, Y/N. I am only asking for you and Elena to trust me,” Stefan said, looking into her eyes and she searched his, finding none of the answers she was searching for. The only thing she was sure of was that he was hiding something. She narrowed her eyes but spoke nothing more, turning away as she knelt back by Damon.

“Do as you wish, brother,” Y/N muttered and Stefan sighed before he left, heading to Mystic Grill. Elena stayed for a moment, Y/N sensing her presence behind her and she let out a sigh after a while, looking over her shoulder. “You’re not going to disobey Stefan and follow him?” Y/N asked simply and Elena seemed to consider her options before taking a step towards her. 

“Why do you hate me?” she asked and Y/N scoffed, shaking her head as she stood up, turning towards the doppleganger. “Is that funny to you?”

“Hate you?” Y/N asked, “I know nothing of you, Elena. There is nothing for me to like or hate. All I know is that, even if Stefan and Damon try to kid themselves by saying it’s different, I see 1864, the year Katarina Petrova came and ruined my life. Sure, Elena. You’re different. That is very clear by how hard you cling to your humanity but you know what hasn’t changed? The effect you have on my brothers. I said when we met that I watched them fight over the same woman and I left because I couldn’t stand it. I still can’t.”

“I…Stefan never mentioned you-”

“Yeah, I know because when I left all those years ago, I told them I would never forgive them for dragging me into the mess that that bitch made. Unlike Damon and his petty game of making Stefan miserable for Katherine turning him as well, I couldn’t stand to see my brothers change into what they were. I grew up with two loving brothers, Elena. Damon always spoiled me with his love and his attention, always protecting me and reminding me that I was not to settle for any man. Stefan was father's favorite but he was there for me the instant he was needed. When Damon left to serve, Stefan stayed by my side and helped me through the sadness. He filled the loneliness. I loved my brothers more than anything, Elena. They were my everything and one woman was all it took for them to toss me aside. They ignored my warnings, both too busy fighting for her attention to pay me any mind and then we were all dead. Because of her. I was forced to be a vampire. Because of her. So forgive me, Elena if I cannot seem to stand being in the same room as you when you share her face. You only remind me of the life I lost.”  Y/N let out a deep breath, her eyes closing as she tried to calm her anger, opening them once again when she heard Elena sniffle. In typical newly turned vampire fashion, Elena was unable to control the tears that slowly fell from her eyes as Y/N’s words hung in the air, the youngest Salvatore running a hand through her hair.

“I’m sorry…” Elena said softly and Y/N looked away for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed as she sensed Damon stirring. Another deep breath, her emotions at bay and she looked up to meet Elena’s eyes.

“The only difference I notice,” Y/N said, “Is that, unlike Katarina, you seem to be wanting to choose Damon.”

“I-” “It doesn't matter to me. Choose who you wish, Elena Gilbert. I will be here this time to pick up the pieces of the brother you break. I will not let that same face ruin my brothers again. Wipe your tears now. I will do my best to see you as someone different but forgive me if it takes some time. I only came back because I missed my brothers but it is very clear they both care for you which means, to an extent, I do too.” Elena nodded, wiping at her tears and she left to follow Stefan, sensing Jeremy being hurt. Y/N sighed, her eyes turning back to Damon, who was now gone and she walked towards the window, moving the blinds to stare at the grill. Left behind once again, the youngest Salvatore held her place on the sidelines. 

“That…was fucking sad,” Y/N jumped, whirling around, “Whoa! Whoa! Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I was literally there when you told Death it wasn’t a good idea to surprise a vampire.”

“Are you…a talking raven?” Y/N asked aloud, mostly to herself, her face showing her confusion and she took a step back when it hopped forward, its head bobbing back and forth before bowing. 

“I am a talking raven, yes. I know, it took me a bit to get used to it too. I’m Matthew, newly appointed raven to Dream. It is a pleasure to officially meet you, Y/N.” 

“Uh…the same to you?” She said but her tone came off as more of a question before her mind actually processed his words. “Wait, raven of the Dreaming? Of Dream? Was it not um..what was her name?”

“Jessamy, yes,” Matthew aid and Y/N tried not to show her discomfort at how alive the raven seemed, nodding his head with his words, “She was unfortunately killed when the boss was imprisoned..” “Ah, yes. Death told me about that too.”

“You seem to be pretty close to the boss’ sister.”

“She’s like..the only friend I have, really…which sounds really pathetic when I say it out loud,” Y/N chuckled to herself, shaking her head before she bent down, offering her hand. Matthew’s head tilted before he jumped up, his talons perched on her fingers as she stood back up, her other hand coming up to gently touch his head. “Oh, you were human..”

“Who apparently died in his sleep before Lucienne turned me into a raven,” Matthew said, “How did you know?”

“Vampires can get into the minds of humans quite easily. I merely wanted to pet your head but I felt myself able to look into your thoughts so I only guessed. What’re you doing here if you are the Dream Lord’s raven?”

“He sent me to check in with you,” Y/N’s eyebrow raised as she looked into his eyes and a smirk fell on her lips as she stared deep, searching the raven’s mind, “What are you doing?”

“Testing something,” She whispered before her pupils dilated, “I don’t think I needed to do this so my apologies for overstepping, but why are you checking on me?”

“The boss wants to know if you are experiencing any changes from your visit last night but he didn’t elaborate on what happened and he also just wanted me to show him how you were doing in general,” Matthew said before shaking his head, “Whoa, what was that?”

“A vampire thing,” she said, the smirk on her lips as she continued to stare deeply into the raven’s eyes, raising her arm up a bit, “I appreciate your concern, Dream Lord but next time come yourself instead of spying with your raven. Goodbye, Matthew.” She said, using her compulsion once again and Matthew flew off her hand, his wings flapping gracefully as he flew out the window Y/N opened. Her eyes followed him as he soared into the sky, curious how he got to the Dreaming that way but she smiled to herself as she recalled his words, knowing Dream was looking through the raven to see her. Her fingers brushed against her throat, not feeling the usual dryness of hunger and she noted how long it had been since she awoke. The longest I have ever gone without wanting a drink, she thought to herself before her eyebrows furrowed, the smell of blood suddenly filling her nose. Using her vampire speed, she ran towards the source of the smell and into the forest, stopping when she heard the sound of a shovel. She walked slowly, her hands using the trees to balance her against the rocky ground until she sucked in a breath, hearing Elena’s sobs. In a random open area, the Salvatore brothers turned briefly to look at her before turning back to Elena who was attempting to create a grave, the body of the hunter laid next to her. 

“Well, shit,” Y/N whispered, running a hand through her hair and she took a deep breath before looking at her brothers, all three nodded before taking action. Stefan took Elena in his arms, Damon taking the shovel from her and Y/N knelt beside the hunter, her hand hovering over the bloody bite that Elena left on his neck. Damon finished digging the grave as Stefan took Elena away and Y/N rolled the body into the hole, the two burying the body together. 

“What’s the plan now, brother?” Y/N asked and the older looked at her as she rubbed her dirty hands on her jeans, having used them to move the dirt back in place, “Elena did the very thing that Stefan so badly wanted to avoid.”

“It’s a part of being a vampire,” Damon muttered, his eyes staring at the grave, “Like I told him, there is no case of a vampire having existed without killing at least one person. At least he was a dickhead so she shouldn’t feel that bad about it.” He smirked over at Y/N who shook her head as a chuckle escaped her lips, the two making their way back to their home. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“For what?” Y/N asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked up to meet her brother’s eyes, seeing the sadness in his bright blue irises. His hand reached over to grab hers, his fingers brushing over her daylight ring which also held the Salvatore crest and he took a deep breath before looking back up at her.

“Stefan and I have to be the worst brothers in the world…” “You heard what I said to Elena,” Y/N said and he nodded, making her sigh. Only now did she realize that of course Damon would’ve heard some, if not all, of what she had said and she felt the embarrassment creeping in as she recalled her words. “I-There’s really no need to apologize- I didn’t mean-” Y/N couldn’t form a complete sentence, her stuttering continuing as she pulled away, wanting nothing more than to vampire speed her way out of there. She hadn’t meant to let her emotions get the better of her, spewing all the built up emotions she had locked away all these years. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes but she violently wiped them away, swatting Damon’s hand as he reached for her.

“Y/N-” The younger sister shook her head, refusing to look as her older brother reached for her again, letting out a yelp as he gripped onto her wrist, pulling her into a hug. His hand was quick to cradle the back of her head, her eyes widening, “I am so sorry.” He whispered against her hair and she sniffled, feeling the tears fall as stood in his hug, his arms holding her tight. 

“You may not believe me at the moment and I would understand if you didn’t,” Y/N heard Damon speak in her head and she closed her eyes, clinging onto him as she hid in his chest, “I know history is repeating itself as much as I’d hate to admit it but we will be different, little sister. You are home, we are all together and we will do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

“Okay,” Y/N whispered, nodding her head slightly and Damon gave her a squeeze before pulling away, cupping her cheeks before using his thumbs to wipe her tears. Her blue eyes looked up to look at his, smiling as he placed a light kiss to her head before wrapping his arm around her shoulders. The two walked home where Stefan waited, his arms opening to take Y/N into a hug, making her giggle as they swayed slightly in the doorway. 

“Where’s Elena?” Y/N asked, looking up at Stefan who sighed before pulling her into another tight hug.

“She’s at home with Jeremy. She wanted time to process and we decided some family bonding time was needed,” Stefan said, his chin resting on her head and Damon placed his hand on Stefan’s shoulder. “We play nice for one night for now, little sister and when we’re done helping Elena, we promise another one. Sounds good?” Damon asked and she giggled, nodding her head as she wrapped an arm around each of them, all three disappearing into the house. As they all worked to clean all the paper that were sprawled across the room, Y/N could feel eyes and glanced at the window, a smirk on her lips as Matthew perched himself on the window sill outside. She gave him a wink before turning back to her brothers, giggling as Stefan threw some paper in her face and she was quick to grab a pillow, using her speed to throw it. Stefan caught it with ease, smiling at her but he let out a grunt when another pillow flew his way, making Y/N laugh for a moment before one was flown at her. The two looked at Damon who was smirking proudly at his sneak attack but that quickly fell when they grabbed the pillows he threw. “Get away from me,” He said sternly but his younger siblings didn’t listen, all three using their vampire speed to fly around the house, pillows in hand. Thuds from pillows flying and laughs filled the Salvatore household as the siblings had their little pillow fight. For a moment, when Y/N leaned against a wall hiding and letting out a breath, she was brought back to when all three of her brothers were back in the mansion that was their home in 1864. Y/N felt the scene vanish, the hallways dissolving into the ones in the manor, her jeans and shirt being replaced with a casual dress that puffed around her waist. Her hair was waved down her back and as Stefan and Damon rounded the corners, they too were dressed how they did back when they were mortals. Y/N smiles as her brothers approached her and she was suddenly thrust back into the present, the memories of the past vanishing in a storm of sand. Sand. 

“Elena needs us,” Damon said suddenly, though his tone showed his hesitation to say so as he look at his phone screen. Stefan and Y/N looked at him with furrowed brows and he sighed softly.

“Why did Elena message you?” Stefan asked

“I don’t think that’s the right question, brother,” Y/N said and she placed her hand on his arm, “Is she alright?”

“She stabbed Jeremy. No time to explain. Let’s go, Stefan,” Y/N could see the pain in Stefan’s eyes but he followed Damon nonetheless, Y/N brushing her brothers off before they could apologize.

“I have my own appointment to attend to,” Y/N smiled and her brothers looked at her with curious eyes before she smiled and they were gone. The sound of flapping wings filled her ears and she looked up at Matthew who sneakily flew into the residence, perching himself on the post of the stairs. “Just the raven I wanted to see.” “Here to be the best guide into the Dreaming, Miss Y/N!”

[hexiewrites]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 43!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 562,348, which is honestly insane

3. What fandoms do you write for? right now mostly stranger things. I've got most of a ted lasso fic written but who knows if that'll get posted?? and prev, harry potter.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. don't take this sinner (dramione, marriage law ish), 2. same as it ever was (steddie, two timelines, one of my first steddie fics!) 3. carve your name into my chest (steddie, the hockey au of my dreams) 4. come get your man (he got lost in my DMs) (steddie, social media, steve being a horny DM guy) 5. there'll be a riot (cause I know you) (steddie, the matty-healy-rat-man-Eddie-vibed mostly smut fic)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? ugh. I WISH!!!! I want to be better at this, I really do. I usually start strong but I end up with limited energy/time and I want to filter that into writing more. if you've ever commented: I FUCKING LOVE YOU and think you're SO cool! if you really WANT a reply, the best way to get that is to ask me questions haha. it starts to feel weird just "thank you!"ing everyone, ya know?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I am.... not an angsty ending person tbqh! I think the closest is probably you love the sea, which is a flintwood rarepair selkie fic that I deeply love. it ends happy, insofaras they end up TOGETHER, but if you think more about the implications and how fucking sad it's going to be for oliver... well. I'll leave that to you guys.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? god, I'm well known for having "endings so happy they border on absurd", according to one person online. so, pick your poison I guess! anyways the fic THAT person was referring to was same as it ever was, so, let's go with that!

8. Do you get hate on fics? I have been so lucky lately to not get much hate at all lately, which is a real privilege in the fandom world. remember that I cut my teeth in early days of harry potter, and people were BRUTAL. I definitely HAVE gotten hate - my aforementioned dramione fic has a bit of a weird twist that some people were PISSED about (and once I got an incredibly detailed comment about how badly I fucked up my representation of black Hermione because she... didn't talk that much about hating her hair? which I know is AN experience but not necessarily a universal one) but overall, at least this fandom go around, no hate. thank you, everyone, for that!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yes. lots and lots and lots of it. mostly kinda kinky and pretty much all pretty gay. let's not talk about how many times I've had to tag dacryphilia and what that means. I just like when people fuck about things, yknow?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? nope, never! and I likely never will. too much to keep track of.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that I know of, thank god for that.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I've had requests but... I would need a translator willing to work pretty closely with me because I want to make sure certain choices come across well, and I haven't found that yet.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? not officially, though I did write a buckingham companion piece to the amazing cowboy-bar fic @riality-check did!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? OH GOD don't make me choose! ALL TIME is still probably dramione, but steddie is a very close second. in terms of canon ships, I'm such a sucker for buffy/spike (leave me alone), and veronica mars/logan (AGAIN LEAVE ME ALONE) and rory/logan (BECAUSE RICH WHITE BOYS NAMED LOGAN ARE A WEAKNESS, APPARENTLY)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? pour one OUT for you can't take the sky from me, which is my firefly inspired harry potter au ft pansy/percy, mostly because I had so many big plans for it that I've completely forgotten AND I just can't write in that fandom at all anymore. sorry everyone, I do love what I put out and I wish there was more of it.

16. What are your writing strengths? prose, smut, tying things together with little bows, and spending way too much time in my characters heads

17. What are your writing weaknesses? dual POVs, getting so lost in one character I don't flesh out the others as much as I mean to, action sequences, and consistent motivation

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I've done it before (mostly in clean ice, cold hearts, can't lose) and my typical strategy is to indicate that the characters are speaking a diff language (in french, I use guillements and italics) but not to actually WRITE the french, unless it's very short and the POV character doesn't understand it on purpose like in carve.

19. First fandom you wrote for? harry potter baby! my oldest posted fic that I've found online was from 2002, when I was... too young to be interacting with the internet like that, that's for sure.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? carve your name into my chest and it's no contest. I love same as it ever was as well, which I think is a better WRITTEN fic technically speaking, but carve was a huge passion project that I had so much fun with, and the response to it had been one of my favourite things in the world. oh, and special shout out to make this inn our own, which is my second longest fic ever and was just an absolute joy to do. so, those three, I guess!

tagging with no pressure: @riality-check @hereforanepilogue @maxineholtzmann @stevespookington @stevethehairington @withacapitalp and whoever else wants in!

[sphaliro]

I posted 391 times in 2022

That's 387 more posts than 2021!

190 posts created (49%)

201 posts reblogged (51%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sphaliro

@racer-xp

@wolven-writer

@miiilowo

@scorpion-grasses-deltoids

I tagged 333 of my posts in 2022

Only 15% of my posts had no tags

#pix - 103 posts

#portfolio - 71 posts

#color.art - 60 posts

#digital.art - 58 posts

#ocs - 44 posts

#itsme.txt - 34 posts

#meme.art - 32 posts

#txt - 29 posts

#character design - 28 posts

#traditional art - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#where i am sending everyone in the mouse n ratgirl tags screeching about how they want to murder people for having a good time

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I wonder if that weird-ass transphobe who was screeching about how mousegirl puns (& all girl-adjacent concepts) are nothing but hypersexualized infantalization knows that...

Via the collective spite bomb this site has thrown...

...They are singlehandedly responsible for this being a thing? For the awakening of endless cheese puns, cute art, & the furry awakening of so many people in my girl's tags?

903 notes - Posted July 20, 2022

#4

Meet Nugget, my FNAF animatronic oc. He has the size, power, & high IQ of a real pomeranian. He is in charge of all chicken nugget responsibilities.

There are only 2 realities with Nugget in them. One where he blows away Afton before he hurts a child, & one where the mere presence of Nugget makes it impossible to desire murder. Nugget is so cute, nobody around him wants to kill or bully anyone. Nugget's cuteness instead encourages siblings to bond while caring for him, & inspires nothing but love between two dads who have never been proven to have psuedo-8-bit wives, after all, so why not?

1,062 notes - Posted May 6, 2022

#3

The Afton family, 1983.

"Can you hear me? I don't know if you can hear me. I'm sorry..."

...PREV?

1,634 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

#2

"Woe to ye whoms't eye rest upon the (mall) rat girl's hyperfemininity, for thy upon death shall be cast into the fires of hell itself..."

The 80's mall rat has a girlfriend now. They sell cheese. Please be impressed with their charcuterie platter, it took to long to dra--I mean, assemble.

4,428 notes - Posted July 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

People on here were talking about mousegirls, so I offer you a ditzy 80's mall rat!

22,427 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[gerardpilled]

OKAY my final consensus for today so i can get off the topic:

there is no evidence that the untitled poem believed to be the inspiration/starting point for fantastic bastards (prev 'you hit like a girl') was written by ft willz/frank. death spells played the song in May 2013, and if no lyrics were changed between then and 2016's fantastic bastards, that would give people more than enough time to cook something up that sounded vaguely like ft willz and upload it in September of 2013. yes that would be a lot of work, but the fact is that it is doable. meaning that we can't confirm it unless we have a poem upload date pre-May 2013.

I don't think Frank ran the f-t-willz-must-die-blog tumblr account (bc why would he lol). that tumblr probably just took poems that were thought to be his and uploaded them and/or purposefully faked some. we just don't know! Frank uploading the ft willz poem onto his official tumblr just (for legal purposes) suggested he wrote the original ft willz poems that were found on myspace/livejournal/skeleton crew website. the other uploads on the non-official tumblr have no validity unless previously posted on one of those.

thank you to the person who sent me the spreadsheet with the sources, but that also just confirmed this.