#you can tell which of the two is my fav lol

[nightthinker-08]

have some doodles most of them drawn while I was in a sleep deprived haze-

[orcelito]

My favoritism is Obvious

Tfw I spent all the rest of my money buying bow upgrades for The Boy

In an entirely predictable move, I'm pretty sure he's my favorite

[proteuus]

I thought everything was the worst but then I had my daily sugar drink with a splash of coffee and it turns out everything actually isnt the worst. so thats good news

[vauxxy]

RIGHT SIDE OF MY NECK

luke castellan x daughter of hades reader

★ relationship headcanons!!

ABOUT - cute little relationship headcanons for luke and his child of hades gf <3

WARNINGS - a little bit of nsfw at the end 💋

A/N - not my fav lol… it’s ok i think it’s kinda cute

luke castellan is the ultimate gentleman. he’s sweet, thoughtful, caring, all that stuff.

he always makes an effort to include you in everything because he knows how hard it is for you to make friends and such. he’s always inviting you to hang out with him and his friends, or taking you out to chaperone his cabin with him.

he’s your knight in shining armour. before you and luke even became friends, he was looking out for you. always saying hello, inviting you to spar with him, things like that.

luke castellan makes sure his girlfriend is comfortable in every situation. he knows you’re shy, so he tries his best to soothe your nerves whenever you’re talking in a big group of people. he’ll wrap his arm around your back and gently hold your waist, or he’ll kiss your cheek or shoulder- hoping it’ll soothe you. and it usually does, but it mostly flusters you.

he tries to spend as much time alone with you as possible. this means a lot of whisking you away to the hades cabin, because it’s completely empty.

you spend hours just talking and laying in your bed, playing with his hair as you two joke around about stupid shit.

he kinda feels superior to everyone else because he gets to know you more than anyone ever could. other than him and a few of your friends, everyone thinks you’re shy and timid. and sure, you are those things, but you’re also loving and hilarious and so so so witty.

luke castellan’s favourite thing about you is your sharp tongue. you’re funny, and dark, which makes for some really funny comments. the first time you make a joke around him, he couldn’t stop laughing. it was shocking hearing such morbid jokes some from such a shy mouth.

you are not one for PDA. you think that making out in public is weird and gross. he agrees… to an extent.

obviously, you’re not jamming your faces together ever minute of everyday, but luke is very needy.

he’s so overly touch starved and extremely obsessed with you, that if he’s around you he has to be able to be close with you to some extent.

this means holding hands, or pressing his shoulder against yours, playing with your hair, fiddling with your fingers, etc…

just small things like that.

when you’re alone, he’s a lot more touchy. and you love it- you’re as touched starved at him, you’re just better at hiding it.

luke loves to just hold you. he loves to just wrap his arms around you and bury his face in your neck, leaving little kisses all along your skin.

he loves watching you squirm and turn red when he caresses the sides of your hips. he honestly loves everything you do.

luke is extremely respectful of you and your boundaries. he’s also extremely needy. these two things can be true at the same time.

he started spending nights in your bed at the hades cabin using the excuse ‘it smells bad and is always so loud!! y/n you’ve gotta help me!!’

obviously you give in, because you love luke and love sleeping next to him. who cares if it’s against the rules?

but after the third night of just sleeping next to each other, you start noticing just how desperate he is for you.

the way he clings onto your body for dear life, how he falls asleep only after you start playing with his hair.

it’s charming really.

semi-nsfw ahead ‼️

your only issue with luke sleeping in your bed is the way he makes sure his hips stay far away from your body. sure, he’s being respectful, he’s a teenage boy- he can’t control it. but you kinda wish he didn’t sometimes.

you’ve tried talking about it with him, but you get to shy. it’s hard for you.

i mean, how on earth do you tell your boyfriend that you know he’s constantly hard for you? and that you also wish he’d tell you? and maybe that you also wish he’d go further than just the occasional boob groping or thigh rubbing?

lol so you don’t. you don’t say a word. instead, you turn around and wrap your leg around his body as you’re laying down, halfway through a sleepy conversation. you cling to his form, rubbing your hands over his back.

you hear him let out a quiet groan, looking down at you like you’re evil as he purses his lips.

“what’s wrong, luke?” you ask innocently, ignoring his clothed length fully twitching against your thigh.

he rolls his eyes and just starts kissing your forehead and cheeks, wrapping his body around yours as he tries to hold himself back a little.

“we’ve been dating for like… over a month.” you whisper, running your fingers through luke’s hair as he rests his head on your chest.

he nods slowly, which sends shivers down your spine. the feeling of his hair tickling your skin never fails to make you flustered.

“if you wanna go further you can ask.” you say quietly.

5 minutes later and you’re under him as your hands grasp onto your bedsheets, now covered in hickeys.

he’s gentle and thoughtful, always asking if it’s okay to continue or not.

he goes slow, leaving kisses all over your body as he watches you squirm and giggle quietly.

he’s sweet and caring and you love the way he makes you feel, and you love watching him go absolutely crazy over your touch.

you probably couldn’t ask for a more attentive and respectful boyfriend. he’s so polite and kind and caring- he makes you feel like you’re a princess.

being a child of hades has made it hard for people to get to know you- the real you. but luke never found it hard to know you past your name. he loves you more than life itself.

[f1rodrigo]

the mclaren boy mystery | part two

l. norris / o. piastri

summary: in which your boyfriend is a formula one driver for team mclaren and when you finally decide it's time to start hinting to the world, the internet is confused on exactly which driver is your boyfriend. pairing: social media au || lando norris / oscar piastri x reader fc: jazmyn makenna a/n: sorry this took a little longer than i expected! it was so fun to make though. i didn't want to say who she's actually with because i feel like it's fun for the readers to have to figure that out too! so please share any guesses you have lol i'm interested to see what people think the outcome will be. hope you enjoy and thank you sm for reading<3

part one | sweet relief series | valentine's day drabble

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liked by yourbrother, maxverstappen1, and 101,225 others

yourusername happy birthday to my favorite brother, i love you and am so grateful to know i have someone in my life who looks after me like you do<3 here's my fav pics of us of course they're all racing related lol, our first love

view all 982 comments

yourbrother "my favorite brother"... As far as I know I am your only brother 😐

⤷ yourusername 🥱🥱🥱🥱 technicalities

yourbrother Thank you least favorite sister, miss those days. Have to get back out on the karting track, been too long since I've beaten you

⤷ yourusername been too long since you've been beaten, you mean?

⤷ yourbrother Yeah, yeah we'll let the track times speak for themselves

⤷ user1 ok but we have to admit the brother sister banter is kind of adorable

⤷ user2 no bc she seems so sweet 😭

user3 nah because what is max verstappen doing in this girls likes now????

⤷ user4 and the plot thickens 😯

user5 she saw everyone calling her a fake f1 fan and said take a look at this

user6 yn hater club how you guys feeling right about now

⤷ user7 🤡🤡🤡🤡

user8 honestly kind of hope she's dating one of them

⤷ user9 yall switch up so fast please 😭😭

user10 seriously..... you HAD to only post f1 related photos lmfao so totally pandering to the landoscar fans

user11 f1 school of wags next graduate

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liked by mclaren, yourusername, and 1,891,218 others

landonorris DOUBLE PODIUM!!!!!!!! couldn't have asked for a better race, congrats @/oscarpiastri and a huge thanks as always to @/mclaren 🧡

view all 5,871 comments

user1 I SAY THATS MY BABY AND IM SO PROUD 😭

user2 mclaren double podium... oh i used to pray for times like these

user3 oscar piastri you are insane omfg

user4 MY POOKIES LOOK AT THEM !!!!!!!!! 🫂

user5 save me landoscar SAVE ME

yourusername jumping up and down screaming and crying losing my mind

⤷ landonorris you should probably get that checked out....

⤷ user6 THATS IT, ITS YN AND LANDO IM CALLING IT

⤷ user7 nah nah nah this is so giving gf of the bestie banter

⤷ user8 agreed hopping on the oscaryn train 💪🏻

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yourusername added to their story

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oscarpiastri added to their story

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liked by kellypiquet, oscarpiastri, and 789,012 others

yourusername qatar gp smiles <3 practice timeeee

📸 @/kellypiquet

view all 1,281 comments

kellypiquet so beautiful

⤷ yourusername all you

landonorris eye spy a mclaren car down there?

⤷ yourusername ? i just see a tractor

⤷ landonorris not funny. 😐

⤷ yourusername i certainly laughed

⤷ oscarpiastri same actually

⤷ user1 i dont know how much longer i can take this

⤷ user2 GUYSSSS i am telling you its so oscaryn

⤷ user3 WHAT literally look at the Proof its so landoyn 🥱

⤷ user4 i am giggling we're literally in a shipwar

user5 she's so pretty i'm sorry guys i love her 😵‍💫

⤷ user6 well yes!

user7 patiently waiting for one of the mcl boys to main feed post her then we know for sure ‼️

⤷ user8 at this rate it still won't clear anything up

lilymhe miss u beautiful

⤷ yourusername omg i miss u more ms lily

⤷ user9 she has The wag stamp of approval WE MOVE!

user10 theres four e's at the end of 'time'....... landos number is 4 i've got it guys 😃😃

⤷ user11 seek medical attention STAT

⤷ user12 bro thinks this is a taylor swift album release

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liked by mclaren, landonorris, and 789,012 others

yourusername oscar piastri sprint race winner AND mclaren double podium, better start calling me the good luck charm

view all 1,281 comments

user1 nah bc you're onto something.....

user2 she can't be serious 😐

⤷ user3 well no shit it's just an instagram caption

user4 i cannot be the only one who finds the caption extremely weird

⤷ user5 nah i'm with you i've never liked her 🙄

⤷ user6 its just so odd like forcing yourself into the mclaren narrative completely taking away from the boys achievements writing it off as your own doing...

⤷ user7 omfg yall are so dramatic just say you're jealous they're not dating you lmfao

⤷ user8 no fr because it is not that serious it's clearly a joke like she loves them cmon now

mclaren BRB getting your paddock passes for the duration of the season

⤷ yourusername i'm giggling, i love you guys 😙

⤷ user9 see mclaren is fine with it so yall should be too

⤷ user10 now i'm going to need all the haters to sit DOWN and shut the fuck UP

oscarpiastri wait can you send me that picture

⤷ yourusername i literally did already but okay

⤷ oscarpiastri ok could do with less attitude

⤷ yourusername you have not seen real attitude piastri

⤷ oscarpiastri 😧

⤷ user11 i think this just converted me to team oscar

⤷ user12 nah this is literally landoyn confirmation

landonorris 🍀

⤷ user13 i am picking up what he's putting down

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part one | sweet relief series | valentine's day drabble

taglist:

@landoscar-f1 , @urfavnoirette , @imsiriuslyreal

[obsessedelusional]

Eddie ‘The Munch’ Munson

parings ✦ Eddie Munson x reader

summary ✦ Your best friend, Chrissy, confronts you wanting to know why you’ve been so distant. When you tell her it’s because you’ve been spending all your time under Eddie Munson she’s in shock, wanting to know everything. So you do exactly that, which leads to Chrissy reevaluating her relationship with Jason. Does her big mouth get you in trouble?

authors note ✦ thanks for all the love on my most recent post omg hope y’all enjoy this one too!! appreciate feedback and reblogs <3 my fav is Eddie being obsessed with eating the reader out expecting nothing in return so that’s where this came from lol

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

“I still can’t believe the reason you’ve been disappearing lately is because you’re too busy fucking Eddie Munson.” Chrissy laughs out loud which comes to an end quickly when you tell her shut up. You decided to come clean when she pulled you to side asking what was wrong and why you had been come so distant.

You two grew up together, you considered her family at this point. Chrissy and you were on total opposite sides of the social spectrum. You joined band and she became a cheerleader. That never stopped you two from being inseparable. At first you tried to hang out with her new friends but couldn’t handle it which she took no offense to. You found your own group of friends quickly but you two always found your ways back to each other. Most weekends spent at each others homes or hanging out together at the local mall. You felt like you could tell her anything and felt bad you have kept this a secret as long as you had.

“So how’d this happen?” Chrissy asks wanting to know all the details. But before you can respond the schools bell goes off signally that lunch is over. She groans annoyed, “You best believe I’ll be at your house tonight after practice and you’re going to tell me everything.” She pulls you into a hug before leaving you alone in the quiet hallway which quickly fills up with other students hurrying to their classrooms. Eddie walks by, catches you staring and shoots you a smile. You waste no time pulling out your phone to send him a text making your way to your next period.

You: my parents won’t be home tonight

Only a few moments pass before your phone dings, it’s Eddie.

Eddie: I have a drop off but as soon as I’m done I’ll be at yours

You: I’ll be waiting for you

—

You’re sat at home anticipating Eddie’s arrival. Periodically checking your phone waiting for any messages letting you know he’s on his way. Your parents would be out of town this weekend, leaving you home alone. No text from him but the music blaring out of a car stereo notifies you, he’s here. You waste no time running down stairs, to the front door to greet him. You open the door just as he’s about to knock.

“Come on, we have one hour until Chrissy’s coming over.” You grab his hand to lead him upstairs, straight to you bedroom. You push him towards your bed he stumbles backwards eventually landing on it.

“Only one hour! What ever shall we do?” He asks, putting on one of his accents, he pulls you in closer so your standing between his legs. You laugh before smashing your lips into his, he hoists you up so you can sit on his lap. His hands wander under the skirt your wearing. “No underwear?” You nod no in response, his hand grasps your ass softly before pulling away swiftly and smacking it hard enough to emit a noise out of you.

“I want to please you.” You pout, letting yourself unbutton his black skinny jeans.

“Won’t be necessary.” He lifts you up unexpectedly causing you to hold on tight before he lays you down so he could be on top. He starts peppering kisses down you neck, pulling at your t-shirt. You help him take it off, exposing your chest. “No bra either? You’re trying to kill me.” He says latching onto you nipple, sucking causing you to arch yourself forward. He let’s go and continues kissing down your body. Stopping at where you skirt starts lifting it up and using his strong hands to spread your legs. Your glistening cunt on full display for him. “One hour right?”

“Yeah,” You gulp nervously knowing what’s coming. Eddie loved nothing more then to spend an extended period of time between you legs making you finish over and over again. Half the time you’d have cum multiple times and he’d never once let you get him off. Telling you that causing you pleasure was more than enough for him.

“I wanna see how many time I can make you cum before our times up. Is that okay?” He asks, looking up from between your legs. You nod yes response but that’s not enough. “I need your words princess.”

“Yes.” Is all you can manage to get out and he doesn’t miss a beat, his tongue running up your opening landing on you clit. Your whimpers fill the silence in the room along with sounds of his fingers slipping between your folds. His middle finger enters your opening and curls it upward.

“More please.” You beg and he adds another finger, stretching you out. His tongue leaves your clit and is replaced by his other hand, running circles around your clit.

“You’re so fucking hot when you beg. So fucking needy.” His words just what you need to send you over the edge. Moans as loud as a yell leave your mouth. Eddie can feel your orgasm as your privates clench on his two fingers. He shuts you up by kissing you his fingers still pumping in and out of you.

—

You two lost track of time because before you knew it the moment is interrupted by the sound of pounding on front door, a female voice yelling for you. He pulls away from you so he can look out your bedroom window.

You rush throwing your clothes back on and finding your phone to find the time. It had been well over an hour at this point. You have several missed messages and a few missed calls from her. You shoot her a text saying you’ll be downstairs in a moment.

You look into the mirror on your vanity and quickly brush your hair and fix your makeup so it’s not as evident what she’s walking in on. In the mirror you notice Eddie sat on the bed readjusting his boner. Facing him you say, “I hate to kick you out so early but I promised her we’d hang and catch up. She’s was pretty upset because I’ve been preoccupied.”

“By what?”

“You.” He smiles and kisses you one last time before he has to go.

“Do you want me to climb out the window once you let her inside?” Eddie suggest, almost as if he’s had to do that before which makes you sad at the thought of that.

“Why would you do that?”

“In case you don’t want her to see me.”

“I don’t care if she sees you. She knows about you.”

“She does?” You nod, smile reassuringly letting know Eddie everything’s okay. Eddie follows you down stairs, watching as you open the door to let Chrissy in.

“What took you so long?” She groans annoyed throwing her backpack to the ground stopping in her tracks when she sees Eddie standing there. “Oh that’s what took you so long.” She narrows her eyes, looking between Eddie and you.

Uncomfortable by the situation Eddie excuses him self. “We’re still on for tomorrow right?” You ask before he walks out the front door.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” With that he’s gone, shutting the door behind him.

“Girl what the fuck was that?” She makes her way to your bedroom, you follow closely behind. Watching her as she sits on your bed. The bed where you just spent the last last hour being eaten out. You try to hard not to think about it. “Can’t believe you were to busy fucking Munson to let your best friend in.” She looks around your bedroom before terror strikes her, “In this bed too?” She shrieks getting up to move to the chair sat in the opposite corner.

You can’t help but laugh before apologizing, “Sorry we were—“

“Fucking.” She interrupts you.

You sigh excepting the fact that there’s no way to hide it, “Sort of.”

“Sort of? What does that mean?” She ask curiously, “and don’t spare any of the details please.”

“He was going down on me.” You admit. Figuring it was your turn to share the gory details of your sex life. Have been forced on multiple occasions to hear about Jason. The man you hated but knew if you tried to say anything it’d only push Chrissy away from you.

“Must be nice.” She says flatly, distracting herself by scrolling through her phone.

“Jason doesn’t go down on you?” You ask absolutely baffled.

“No he refuses.”

“Do you go down on him?” You ask and she nods yes, likes she’s to ashamed to say it out loud. “Girl what the fuck? Is there anything favorable about him?”

“Enough about me.” She laughs uncomfortably, “How is he in bed? How big is he?

Rolling your eyes annoyed you respond, “Amazing actually. He enjoys making me finish over and over again. Half the time I don’t even have to do anything which is shame because his uhh… is huge.”

“I didn’t think men like that actually existed.” She sighs.

“They’re out there. You’ve just been stuck on the same dick for years, expand you horizons Chrissy. Have you ever even had an orgasm?”

“Ya know they have a name for men like that?” She says completely disregarding your jab at Jason and the question you asked. Her lack of answer was your answer. “He’s a munch.”

“A munch?” You ask, you’ve never heard of it before.

“A man who gets off on performing oral. Doesn’t expect anything in return. Usually because he’s obsessed with the woman who’s receiving.” You laugh because that describes Eddie to a t.

“Sounds a bout right.” You smile.

“Instead of Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson we should start calling him Eddie ‘The Munch’ Munson.” Chrissy says erupting in laughter at her own joke causing you to roll your eyes for the hundredth time since Chrissy showed up.

You two spend the next few hours catching up on town gossip and updating each other on your lives. The conversation somehow always ending back on the topic of Eddie. You didn’t mind though, it was nice finally being able to talk to someone about him. It’s getting pretty late so Chrissy decides to go home not before letting you know she’d be having a talk with Jason about how things needed to change.

—

The entirety of you weekend was spent in bed with Eddie. Waking up next to him was something you could get used to. You two would stay up supper late fucking and sleep in till the later afternoon. Sometimes being woken up in the middle of the night because Eddie couldn’t contain him self. His favorite image was you laying in bed in nothing more than underwear and oversized t-shirt. It all came an end Sunday afternoon when your mom notified you they were on your way home. Sadly you two separated making plans for Monday night at his place.

You were so exhausted from the weekend you slept through your alarm Monday morning. Waking up near noon, your parents already gone for the day. You’ve never gotten ready so fast in your life. Only time to brush your teeth and your hair before running out the door. When you arrive to school it’s lunch time, “Better late than never I guess.” You mutter your self as the lady at the front desk checks you in. Walking out the office you make your way to your locker, throwing stuff from your backpack inside.

“Where have you been?” Chrissy says as she approaches you, wearing her cheer uniform.

“I over slept.”

“So you haven’t heard anything?”

“Heard what?” You groan not in the mood for any drama right now.

“Before I tell you what happened please tell me you’re not gonna be mad at me.”

“What did you do?” Your mind racing at what Chrissy could of possibly done, shutting you locker so you can face her.

“Promise me.”

“Fine I promise I won’t be mad at you.”

“So it’s kinda your fault because you got into my head. All the talk about how good Eddie is in bed made me upset that Jason is the way he is. So after I left yours I went straight to his house and ripped into him.” She hesitates to finish her story so you tell her to skip to the part that would piss you off. “Well he wasn’t taking me seriously and I know how much he dislikes Eddie. So I told him I heard from a friend that Eddie is so good in bed, the best she’s ever had. Always going down on her.” Your eyes widen in horror, “He immediately assumed I meant one of the girls on the cheer squad. He was so mad I would even compare him with Eddie. So he went around telling his friends what I said.”

“Chrissy why would you tell him all that?”

“I’m not done yet.” Guilt spreads across her face.

“Oh my fucking god. What else could you possibly add?”

“Now all the girls on the squad are talking about Eddie and gushing over him. Talking about how who should be the one to find out if the rumors are true. I’m so so so so so sorry.” You can’t come up with a response trying to wrap your mind around all the information she just dumped on you. Out of your peripheral you can see Eddie headed you way, he looks upset.

“Please keep walking,” You mutter to yourself. Chrissy notices Eddie and apologizes again before running of leaving you alone. As you try to follow her your stopped by someone grabbing your wrist. You turn to face Eddie smile plastered on your face praying that he has no idea. Considering this is the first time he’s publicly approached you he must know.

“Care to explain why I’ve got three different cheerleaders in my DMs and Sinclair telling me that everyone on the basketball team was talking about my performance in bed?”

“Huh! That’s crazy.” You laugh awkwardly as Eddie backs you into lockers.

“Considering your the only one at this school I’ve slept with and your best friend is Chrissy Cunningham. It all leads back to you.” You quickly decide that coming clean is your only option.

“I shared details with Chrissy as you do with your closest friends.” He nods watching you attentively as you explain. He’s so much taller then you so you have to look up when you speak to him. Which doesn’t help your nerves at all, fluttering your long lashes at Eddie in the hopes that it’s enough to get you out of this situation.

“And?” Your presenting innocent didn’t work.

“Apparently Jason doesn’t go down on her. So when I told her how much you enjoy it she called you a munch.”

“A munch?” He questions, you ignore it and continue the story.

“She told Jason that he she do it because you do it and she thought because of how much he dislikes you it would make him want to do it. It didn’t. It only made him mad and he told everyone on the basketball team which obviously got passed onto the cheer squad. Now they’re all thirsting after you.” You sigh finishing your rambles.

“Could be a worst rumor going around.” He laughs, allowing you to relax knowing he’s not too upset.

“Yeah and now you can have any cheerleader you want.” You laugh back trying to make a joke of the whole situation.

“I don’t want any cheerleader.” He rejects your joke.

“Who do you want?” You grin, hoping his answer aligns with your hopes.

“Who do you think?” He playfully jokes.

“I dunno.”

“You.” He says and lowering himself to your level, can’t help yourself from blushing at how forward he’s being in such a public setting. His hand finding your face before giving you a sweet short kiss soothing any anger you had toward Chrissy for opening her big mouth. Pulling away he asks, “So are you going to explain what a munch is?” Embarrassed your hands cover your face. “Nah uh you’re gonna tell me.”

“It’s basically a man who enjoys eating pussy without getting anything in return.” You spit it out fast as humanly possible, hands still covering your face.

“Guess that makes me a munch,” he laughs, pulling your hands away from your face.

“She called you Eddie ‘The Munch’ Munson.” You can’t believe your sharing any of this.

“That’s munch better than the original version.” Eddie jokes, laughing at his own joke. When you don’t laugh he ask, “Don’t you get it? Munch instead of much?”

“Yes I understand,” You laugh burying your head into his chest, cheeks red from embarrassment. His arms wrap around you, resting his head on yours before giving the top of your head a kiss.

[minhosimthings]

Girl Dad!Enhypen headcannons

Pairings: Enhypen × fem!reader (sep.)

Warnings: fluff fluff I'm choking on this fluff, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of birth, mentions of food, also swearing because I can't handle myself lol

A/N: alright bitches I am high on baby fever so if I'm dying IM TAKING Y'ALL DOWN WITH ME. Tagging @jaeyunluvr for obvious reasons.

Stray Kids version!

Lee Heeseung

Is SO Bambi eyed when you tell him you're pregnant

Like 🥺 this be him, all teary eyed and happy

As if he didn't rail the brains out of you last night but whatever

He was already a simp for you but now that you're pregnant?

"My wife is my entire life and I will walk through every element in this world for her and I would destroy this entire world for her did you know that I love my wife?"

SO EXCITED WHEN YOU START SHOWING He cries over how soft you look sometimes

When I say he sings to your belly at night- (he rants about how the baby kicked when he sang his fav song to the guys)

And gets so starry eyed when baby kicks at his favourite song

Literally the best during birth, he's such a cheerleader

Sobs literal rivers when he holds the baby

"She looks so much like you."

Looks at his daughter as if he would end the world for her

HEESEUNG STOP WE ARE WEAK WOMEN HERE

Singing lessons are basically free for her and Heeseung sobs to you every night about how good she's been getting

Loves to have Karaoke dates with her and teaches her how to make music

Brags so much

"Y/N can you take your husband please he's been talking about his child for hours now we are tired" "hey guys do you know what she did yesterday-"

He died inside when she tried to hit a high note and succeeded

10/10 dad, must marry Heeseung I have a ring

Park 'Jay' Jongsoeng

Do I hear the best girl dad in the entire world?

YES I FUCKING DO DAD JAY AGENDA LETS GAURRRRR

When you tell him, he kisses your face so much

WORSHIPS YOU you are a Goddess in his eyes

normally Jay wouldn't let you do anything but now? He will ravage the earth if you lift even an atom

"what are you doing out of bed?" "I have to pee Jay for god's sake-"

Belly massages are free and unlimited with a husband like him

And so is the food because he will cook everything you ask for as if it's the last thing he'll do

Builds the bassinet properly, and makes sure to turn you on because mooscles SHUT UP IM HAVING A MOMENT

Asks his mom for advice if he doesn't know what to do

Is a brave boi during birth like he is NOT hesitant to do any shit you want

Cries part 2

And I mean he sobbed his entire water weight out of his body when he held his tiny baby

"I have two princesses to take care of now"

JAY PLEASE I HAVE A UTERUS STAPPH

Takes care of everything, and I mean everything

Not a surprise to see your baby girl strapped to his chest by a harness 24/7

Daddy-daugher dates are a must!!

His phone storage is literally just her

"Hey guys look at this picture of my baby"

Sim "Jake" Jaeyun

Jake.exe has stopped working

Literally just stares at you when you tell him, so much so you have to wave your hands in front of him to snap him out

"WE'RE HAVING A BABY WHAT"

Congratulations dear reader, because now your husband is basically attached to your belly

"Baby did she kick-" "bro I just moved chill"

Double congratulations because now Layla and him are fighting for your attention

Literally so lost in everything related to women, pregnancy, and birth but he tries

And by that I mean, he stares at you doe-eyed while you explain everything

Most likely to faint during the birth because lord he can't handle this, he's a princess babygirl

Sobs part 3

"she has your eyes" JAKE STOP

Layla and baby besties forever which makes Jake weak in da knees

Will not leave your baby alone even for a second like he's attached to her now

Loves shopping for her

Literally spoils the shit out of her do y'all see this man buying diamonds because I do

"Baby, of COURSE we have to get her matching outfits how else will we do movie night without matchy pajamas"

Jake come home the kids miss you

Park Sunghoon

Yay you have officially broken Park mf Sunghoon

When you tell him, he's literally just 😶😶

No thoughts, brain has evaporated

But then-

"IM HAVING A FUCKING BABY"

You're like chill mf what the hell

Will literally carry you everywhere no matter if you tell him to put you down

"Hoon I can walk-"

*already picking you up* "sorry can't hear I'm deaf"

He makes so many plans, and organises literally everything

Also will get confused on how to build the cradle thingy

He's shit scared of birth, but will definetly allow you to squeeze his hand as hard as you want

Sobs part 4

She looks like you part 3

ICE SKATING DATES WHADUPPP

I'm crying just imagining hoon holding her tiny hands and guiding her through the ice

Your daughter is a fashionista thanks to her dad

Spoils her shitless part 2

"GUYS GUYS YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT MY BABY DID THE OTHER DAY" *doesn't even wait for a yes*

Kim "Sunoo" Seonwoo

My dude is so chill

Probably the normalest out of all of em

Hugs you and kisses you all over

But inside he's screaming crying throwing up shaking kicking his feet in the air

Literally treats the house like a military base once you staart showing

*talking to Enha* "If anything goes even the slightest bit wrong I will murder all of you."

So obsessed with literally just watching you because in his eyes you're so adorable

LOVES THE WAY YOU WADDLE

Gets so cocky over helping you like he's so proud, showing off his muscles and everything

Sunoo please you're my age STAPHH

MAKES AND TRIES YOUR WEIRD CRAVINGS

Will probably be disgusted by birth but he's a strong sailor he pulls through

Mentally breakdowns while holding your child because omg she's so tiny!!!

Mint choco lover agenda lessons starts from day 1

No child of Sunoo's is gonna hate mint choco

Daddy-daughter dates are a MUST

Loved bonding with her so much

Will definitely do her hair if she decides to grow it long

AND WILL GO TO SELF DEFENCE CLASSES WITH HER I WILL DIE BY THIS HILL

Sunoo I am a weak woman STOP

[marsfa1ry]

astrology observation 𓇼

(pics from pinterest)

capricorn mercury i love their dry sense of humor and dark sarcasm. my scorpio mercury be giggling like a baby when they tell a joke while everyone else blank stare the native, concerned about their dark humor. also their choice of words is so calculated and careful if developed, no sugarcoating tho, with well aspected could also be poetic. it’s so cute. ahhh my favs

lilith 3h knows how and when to push the button and let that intelligent communicator self take over lol literally can talk themselves out of anything and could wrap someone around their fingers by their words. school and/or siblings might be a hit or miss for them. it’s either good or bad, nothing in between.

mars 1h idk if it’s just me or not moving body when mentally in a better place for a whole day can cause natives a great emotion turmoil like (esp in virgo degree i guess💀) that’s why coping mechanism and serotonin booster includes deep cleaning room, groceries … oh maybe it’s just me ok

not to mention that healthy routine HELPS natives a lot i mean i guess it helps every human being but i feel like it emphasizes when it comes to mars 1h let me know if you resonates or not^^

earth moons with uranus prominent aspects/placements yes earth moons do need a stable routine to help them maintain their mind but with uranus influence esp if making aspects to mc, i think will most likely hate to have a 9-5 work, plus with prominence 9h/sagittarius, spontaneous career life is their go-to. their earth moons still want the stability tho so it could be that they have a stable morning and after work routine etc.

leo moon something about their hair that never fail to catch my attention. it’s like tho they did nothing their hair be thriving.

also something about head bumps because there was this one time i dreamed of a leo moon head bumping me just for me to wake up to an astrology observation (i can’t remember which one😿feel free to inform me so i can put credits here) says head bumping is a lion thing so leo placements tend to do that helpp- but tbh it’s so cute ><

earth moons w fire moons i rarely see astro community talk about this two together like it’s SO underrated. earth moon say the most straightforward, simplest compliments that get fire moon all flustered up and stuff like 😳 and firey do this most random, unprovoked things just to get reaction out of earthy. purely just vibing together. fire moon get earth moon out of their comfort zone, earth moon makes fire moon more grounded. seen them in many long terms relationships.

ex: EDIT : i just found out that brian groomed megan fox and actually so problematic so i deleted this example 🤢

ross lynch (aries moon) - jaz sinclair (capricorn moon)

aishwarya rai (capricorn moon) - abhishek bachchan (aries moon)

ryan gosling (capricorn moon) - eva mendes (leo moon)

moon conjucnt mercury synastry : moon be like ‘bruh you speak my mind’ while mercury ‘you read my emotions and know what to do with them without me talking it out so’ love this

moon conjunct chiron chiron making hard aspect to luminaries (emphasize on moon bcs istg…the pain towards deepest part of ourselves um) can manifest such a big impact in native’s life :,) and which part will be effected depends on houses where it sit in. however, as much as how diverse the conjunction can play out🤭 the same thing that wounded the natives could be the same thing that heal the natives. the key is to mastered the cruel (💀for real like who have this aspect would understand what i mean) chiron. as much as it makes you a severely wounded soldier in inner world’s field ffs, breaking the pattern of chiron can manifests a really great result.

moon prominent aspect in mother’s chart can be presented in your s/o’s chart or someone you like. for better or worse. 🧍‍♀️

mercury in sagittarius degree (9°,21°) philosiphize their words unintentionally and left people who had a conversation with them thinking about their words a lots esp when they give advice, they brought a whole new perspective to the person.

scorpio/8h prominent the struggle is real when someone they close with or trust don’t also hate their enemies. it’s a sign to retreat for them😠 ride or die. all or nothing.

lilith prominent/dominant men try so hard to hide their feelings and reactions when lilith prominent/dominant women come around. might even bully/pick on them at an extreme end. horrible at it finest when undeveloped ugh

taurus lilith square ascendant attract a lot of taurus mars and i have love-hate relationship with most of them

pisces rising really do get away with things. wittiness and chameleon energy of mutable + slyness of water = slay 💅

aries in big 6 literally always there in charts of ppl who heavily watch or fond of anime, manga

capricorn/cancer sun pair with scorpio/taurus sun no matter what others perceived them individually, they seems like a traditional couple to me lol when they’re together it gives ‘of course they’re together’ vibe. capricorn-scorpio and cancer-taurus more often than vice versa

pluto 3h i found myself thinking about what these natives say a looooot like even if it’s the most silliest stuff they said, it still echoes in my mind like ‘i think yellow is a really bizarre color’ and my mind goes 😮🤯😦😵‍💫🙀 wtff

; hihi, first i didn’t expect my previous astro notes to blow up this much so i want to say that i appreciated all the interactions and support <33 thank you so much and i hope whoever come across this astro ranting HEHE a really nice day/night and much fun reading this ⭐️

© @marsfa1ry

[indouloureux]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 (part one)

summary: she sought for validation; he sought for acceptance. two juveniles who believed they’d spend the rest of their lives playing red guitars and borrowed claviers, (along with the trepidation of isolation), meet in one boring afternoon, and find themselves reveling in caterwaul voices, laying in a field of colossal grass, and writing lyrics with botched ballpens and crumpled papers.

— or: two people bond over emotional trauma, and fall in love through great manifestos

warnings: 1hr reading time, slow burn, friends to lovers, slight teenage angst, jealousy, tooth-rotting fluff, eddie being a sap, weird manifestos, reader being adopted, eddie and reader both having a self discovery whilst falling in love, fem!reader (she/her pronouns), me not knowing how to write both piano and guitar playing properly, deep words (sorry guys open google), lengthy, idiots in love, a love story about two sad teens going through a phase (jk) eddie has a bit of a corruption thing (not kink) bc he introduces reader into new things lol!

explicit warnings (for part two): virgin!reader, virgin!eddie; piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, overstimulation, first time, soft, vanilla porn, mentions of blood, handjob, cum eating, biting, marking, missionary, maybe soft!dom eddie bc he watched porn a lot and thinks he "knows his way", sweet but short aftercare

a/n: this is a story of fiction. i do not know the locations in both indiana and illinois. this is written in the way i prefer it to be to fit its story telling, and i am well aware of the things i write in here, and how i write this story. based on the song '1979' by the smashing pumpkins. the whole lyrics layout inspired by @/upsidedownwithsteve! 1979 is like one of my fav songs ever and i wanted to write a story about it. sorry it took a while to post :( hope you guys all enjoy.

PART TWO; SERIES MASTERLIST

Shakedown 1979

Cool kids never have the time

On a live wire right up off the street

You and I should meet

In a field miles away from a town that’s cursed him, Eddie lays in the colossal grass with his hands on his chest and his eyes closed, the sun blinding him through the thin skin of his eyelids. Growing weeds tickle his inked skin, dirt stains his leather jacket, and ants cross over his hair; he does not mind one bit.

He daydreams of the sky. How accepting they’d be — how they wouldn't mind his disheveled, long hair, or his punk style and see him as one of them; One of the clouds who form themselves into whatever they want and float freely across the cerulean aether atmosphere. A place where he can be himself, where he can bring his darkness into that white airy cotton, even when it turns grey or when the night begins. Eddie would be himself, and no one would judge.

Ringed fingers touch the grass when he removes one from his chest, soft beneath his fingertips that he massages. Eddie hums, taking in the calming sound of air swishing the trees, the faint sound of passing cars, the optimistic birds, and the sound of Dustin talking to his girlfriend with a sickenly high-pitched and lovey-dovey voice. Which reminds him:

“Hey, Henderson,” he turns around, laying on his stomach. Eddie takes a quick glance at his watch — 7:05 am. “Wrap it up lovebirds. We gotta go to school.”

Dustin nods his head, his cap blocking his eyes. “Yeah hold on. I gotta go, Suzie-poo. I’ll talk to you later, I promise. I miss you already. I love you.”

A giggle. “I love you more, Dusty-bun.”

“I love you more multiplied by all the stars in the galaxy.”

“No, I love you—”

“Alright,” Eddie suddenly takes the microphone from Dustin, shooting him a judging look with a raised brow before he speaks. “Sorry, Suzie-poo. Gotta take Dusty here to school or else you won't be seeing each other and he’s gonna spend the rest of his life running up this hill crying. Bye-bye now.”

He almost laughs at the thought of Suzie’s shocked face when he turns the radio off. And maybe that same laugh comes out when he sees Dustin’s horrified expression when he realized he’d — or Eddie — had just cut her off. He looks back at Eddie, mouth agape, before he playfully punches his shoulder.

“Asshole,” Dustin kicks his shin. “That was my girlfriend, you idiot. She’s gonna be pissed that you cut her off!”

“Nah, she loves you too much,” he stands up, patting the dirt off his knees and his jacket, fixing his hair. “Now come on, Dusty bunny, we gotta go to school.”

“Don’t call me that,” Dustin swats his hand away when Eddie tries to ruffle his hair by slipping it beneath his hand, but the kid smiles anyway. Anything for the affection he gives. “You know, you’ll be like this one day,”

Eddie plays with his keys, walking down the hill in heavy footsteps that threaten to twist their ankles. “What’d you mean?”

Dustin hops over the fence, followed by Eddie who grunts loudly. “Being sweet. Disgusting. In love.”

He scoffs, walking over to the side of his van and opening the door, but not before he looks at Dustin over the hood of his van with a look. “So you admit that you and Suzie are disgusting?”

“From the words of you, Steve, Lucas and Mike — who actually both have girlfriends — yes, I admit that we are disgusting. Disgustingly sweet.” 

They close the doors simultaneously, the keys jingling when Eddie shoves the keys in the ignition. “You know, when I was fifteen, I spent my time playing the guitar and studying songs. My fingertips were bleeding, Henderson,” he shows him his palm, letting Dustin see the faint scar lines on his fingertips. “I never dated a girl. So I highly doubt I’d fall in love.”

“The only reason you never dated was because of your reputation,” Dustin throws his bag behind him. “And you’ll fall in love. I bet you will. You may be cynical and mad, but you’ll find the right person, Eddie,” he smiles at him. “Trust me.”

“Yeah yeah,” he shakes his head, the car shaking into a start and Mötley Crüe starts blasting that startles the poor boy beside him. “We’re gonna take this bet to my grave, then.”

Eddie Munson has only fallen in love once. When his Uncle, Wayne, had come home with a red guitar after his night, tiring shifts at the plant. He remembers clearly the way his eyes lost focus of the world and remained on that guitar, like the center of attention; the only attraction in this terrifying world. Eddie remembers the way his heart pounded like he’d fallen down a roller coaster, and remembered the way his tears had mimicked said coaster when he hugged his Uncle and sobbed out his gratitude.

That had been five years ago. When he was fifteen. And he swears he’ll never fall in love again.

Because love—in his own concept—was a dangerous game. More dangerous than when you decide to go and attack Vecna powerless in Dungeons and Dragons, or taunting a swarm of demobats. It’s a game with unknown intentions and arduous side quests that render you defeated before you even get to love itself. Dangerous and tiring, if you’d shorten it. And no one wants to delve into a love so treacherous if you’ll end up getting hurt anyway. 

It’s what Eddie thinks; understood. How he perceives love and what he thinks love is with his semi-nihilistic mind despite never having to fight for love. It’s a game he refuses to partake in and narrate, and would rather watch people struggle with it from the sidelines (with a beer in hand and a freshly rolled blunt in his mouth, as he’d imagined).

So he prays Dustin would win that game. Despite being miles away from his girlfriend; give him all the makeshift spears and shields made of garbage lids and dull nails. He cares so much for him that he actually hopes their love will succeed, that he’d go out not scathed but covered in grime and a triumphant smile. Even now when Eddie looks beside him to see the lovesick smile on Dustin Henderson’s face who replays every memory he had with Suzie during that one summer.  

He reaches over to give his friend a pat on the shoulder, which gifts him a bright smile before he races off to Hawkins High with eternal dread.

—

His day wasn’t at all dreadful. It felt like a normal day.

Probably because Jason Carver wasn't at school today due to a foot injury, and his little balls-in-laundry-baskets friends had no leader to bark at them around all day. They did nothing but practice and sit quietly at their tables, and so did Eddie.

Albeit the day being normal, he’d still get his usual judging stares and glares. Eddie Munson wearing a Dio shirt today? Freak. Eddie Munson wearing shoes other than his Reeboks? Freak. Eddie Munson trimmed his bangs today? Freak. Eddie Munson’s not wearing his vest? Still a freak.

He kept his head low, eyes on the ballpen that draws on his palm as he walks through the emptying hallway. Dustin had gone with Steve Harrington, and the rest had decided to leave early. Eddie? He’d just gotten out of detention for spacing out during class. Why detention? He'd never know why. Even Ms. O’ Donnel thinks he’s a freak. 

Eddie whistles. Mandy. Something new and unusual, a song he’d heard from Wayne early in the morning that he too whistles as he makes his coffee and smokes outside the porch. He’d woken up to the sound of it for two weeks and he finds himself subconsciously copying his Uncle.

His footsteps echo in the walls of Hawkins High. He jumps and spins and occasionally taps his fingers across the lockers covered in stickers, if not dents from rowdy students. The sight of the exit doors surprises him when he turns right, and a bright smile comes up to his face when he sees them. Eddie pulls his keys out of his back pockets, shoves his pen inside, and continues to whistle like he’s taking a walk on a quiet, sunny day at a park.

Until by the time he’s about two rooms away, he hears the sound of a piano. Soft and ear-pleasing, yet startling since it’s been an hour after school ended and no one, not even the teachers other than Ms. O’ Donnel should be here. Eddie stops his whistling, eyebrows furrowing as he hears the piano play the same tune he’d been whistling.

And then a voice. Far and hushed, like a ghost. Unseen through the walls, floating and yearning to be noticed; so they sing to be noticed instead. Eddie’s heart palpitates a little in panic, wondering if the ghost is singing the same song he’s whistling to get his attention. His hands curl into fists and prepare to run away.

But he thinks of disturbing whoever's in that room. He also thinks he should just go home because it probably could just be a ghost, seeing as half the victims from the Starcourt fire had been students and they’d probably come here for refuge in the afterlife. But Eddie’s curious. Maybe taking a glimpse over the small window on the door and seeing a ghost would cause no harm other than a possible possession, right?

So he tiptoes his way to the door he recognized as the music room. He’d seen this room once when he snuck in here during middle school and he needed a guitar for Gareth or else they would have lost that talent show (they did. No adult would let a child playing quote unquote, Satan’s Music, win).

Carefully, he peeks sideways through the small window, where he sees through the blurry glass; a girl sitting in front of a keyboard. Her back to him, head bobbing slightly at every key she presses, showing merely the tip of her nose and the plump apples of her cheeks when she sways lightly to her gentle playing. Eddie quietly shoves his keys back inside his pockets, pressing his ear against the glass, and watches the grace take upon her fingers. 

“I see a memory. I never realized how happy you made me,” 

A voice so celestial, like an angel he’s never seen but envisaged. Maybe like an angel he’d imagined in the clouds up above; a voice so warm like the summer breeze, soft like silk and the denim of his vest. It’s inviting and it’s hypnotizing, with every perfect lilt. 

Something new from his usual heavy ululating music. Something he might like and never get used to. 

And it’s tempting. So tempting that he finds himself opening the door harshly that the doorknob slams against the thin wall of the room that even startles Eddie.

“Oh Mandy, well you came—”

You scream, hands slamming on the keyboard that makes a distorted sound of unmatched keys. Eddie’s eyes widen and his hands raise in defense, hiding behind them when your own hand comes up to gasp into your palm, horrified by his sudden arrival. His heart pounds against his chest, hands coming down to clasp at his pec. And he’s staring at your petrified look.

“Mother of God,” you whimper. 

“I’m sorry!” he closes the door behind him hastily. “It’s, uh, I heard you. And I thought you sounded… great,” Eddie’s shoulders deflate, sighing when a small smile comes up to your face.

“Really?” you finish for him. “Sorry. I- I thought I was alone.”

“No, it’s okay.” Eddie finds himself smiling with you. More at the way there’s dimples at the bottom of your mouth and your teeth show slightly through your lips. 

He stares at you, longer than he intends to, a sense of familiarity waves down him when he traces the slope of your nose and the thick eyelashes that meet with your cheeks when you blink. Eddie thinks you’re pretty — especially with your small smile that makes his heart feel weird when he realizes he’s the receiving end of it. A faint picture flashes in the back of his head, and he limply points at you. “Hey, uh, I kinda remember you,”

Your eyebrows raise a bit, hands falling to your lap. “You do?”

“Yes! I think…” his eyes narrow. “Middle school.” 

“Yeah,” you tell him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It was back in middle school.”

Yes, he remembers you. Only that blurry picture in the back of his mind only focusing on the small pigtails of a girl shorter than him, the ends of a borrowed purple dress that tickled his knees, and that similar smile of yours except you’d been missing a tooth on the bottom row of your teeth that matched his. And that voice, still sweet but deeper than it used to be, still entices him like it used to do.

Eddie gawps. “Holy shit,” he says your name with pure shock, the smile on his lips starting to strain his cheeks. But he doesn't care, not when you’re prettily smiling with him. “You— you played that same song! Mandy, right? You played that too?” 

“I did, yeah,” he walks over to you, hands on his lap and slightly bent. Eddie walks until he’s standing beside the bench you’re sitting on, hand grazing the plastic of the borrowed keyboard. “Mandy by Barry Manilow. Yep.”

“I’m Eddie Munson. Although I'm sure you already knew that,” he offers his hand, hoping you won’t notice the trembling and the silent clinking of his rings. You smile at him, taking his hand into yours and he wonders why even the handshaking felt familiar.

And your hand is warm. Soft like the grass he’s touched earlier this morning, feeling the same small scars in the pads of your fingertips when his thumb slyly runs through them. They were light and they were pretty, your own dainty little ring made by a wire that loops around a gemstone was a hard contrast to the abominable ones on his hand. Almost like an angel shaking the devil’s hand. 

Eddie wishes to feel this way again. How a simple touch ignites something new, yet the fire starts within him that he can't find. 

“I know,” you place your hand back on your lap, his own falling disappointedly on his side. “Sat behind you during History.”

He nods his head down on the bench you’re sitting on, asking for permission. You scoot aside, motioning for him to sit beside you; and Eddie, for the first time in his life, shyly does. He sits beside you, thighs almost an inch apart as he nervously watches you toy with the black keys. “How come I remember you a bit in middle school but not…?”

“Your early years of high school?” you press on a key he doesn't know. “I left after middle school. Moved to Queens, for my dad’s work. Came back here because my nana got sick.”

“Oh,” he plays with his rings, pulls them up before he puts them back on, a slight indentation on his fingers. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” 

Eddie exhales, feeling his heart unwind when you begin to play a steady beat, watching as you press down on the plastic keys. “I came inside because I thought you sounded good,” he nods his head to you. “Your voice. It’s nice. And, because I also thought that ghosts might have heard me whistling and decided to play with me. Scare me shitless.” 

“Ghosts?” you repeat, pressing on a key that emits a deep tune. 

He hums. “Hawkins is filled with dead people. Right beneath this school and those roads you walk on,” he points behind him. “‘ve you heard of the mall fire last summer?”

“I think so,” you furrow your eyebrows. “My dad’s friend called him about that.”

“It was horrifying,” his eyebrows meet for a split second when your eyes widen and you look away from him. Eddie smiles a little. “So, piano huh?”

You look at him again. “Well, technically it’s a keyboard but…it makes the sound of a piano,” you slam a finger onto a black key. 

Eddie has gotten to the point where he realizes there’s no future in this conversation if he doesn't make up another question. And he doesn't want this to end. He just met you again, and he’d like to stay here a bit more even though he’s been craving to leave the school an hour ago. Anything to get to know you a bit more before he sees what’s going to happen next.

“Can you play me a song?” he asks quietly, feeling embarrassed by his diffidence. “Only if you want to.”

“Of course,” you smile at him, fists clenching that your index scratches on the cuticles of your thumb. He wants to stop you, but he worries about crossing borders and you’re probably just as nervous as he is as you say, “what song?”

“Mandy,” he deadpans. You blink at his tone, which makes him clear his throat and speak again in a rather forced cheerfulness that means no harm but to correct himself. “Please?” 

You let out a short chuckle, unclenching your fists to spread them out and stretch. “Yeah sure.”

You began with grace, you performed with aplomb, and his ever-curious mind was captivated by how simple it was for you to play and croon at the same time, as if he didn't know how to do it himself. Eddie watches silently, sings in his head with your gentle humming; remembers how he’d caught Wayne swaying to this song once and thinking he looked funny and at peace, wearing his usual red flannel with a cigarette in his mouth and eyes closed. He looked high back then, unperceived that his nephew had been standing there to the side with crossed arms and an amused smile.

Is this what his uncle felt? Finding peace in music other than electric guitars and heavy drums? Lacking all that yowling rasps and instead replaced with a voice that runs through velvet flawlessly like yours. Where he sways and taps his feet, watching your slender hands switch between keys without having the pads of your fingertips stuck in between them despite him noticing the slight shakiness in your hands, dwelling in on the missing memory that scratches on the back of his mind as he watches you play. 

“Caught up in a world of uphill climbing, the tears are in my mind and nothin' is rhyming,” you take a shy glance at him, eyes flitting to the redness of his ears. Eddie smiles to take your attention, making his ears turn redder when you smile back at him. “I…I forgot the next lyrics,”

Eddie chuckles. “So have I,” he lies. He just doesn’t want to sing. Not in front of you, at least. He worries he might crack his voice and he could just jump out that window.

There’s a faint sound of a door slamming shut from outside that makes you jump a bit, which makes Eddie turn around to where the sound was before he completely ignores it.

Trying to hide the disappointment that flows from him when you stop playing, he focuses on the fact that you’re looking at him as you do so. Which twists his heart in a way that’s far from bad, and tries to distract himself by clapping like one of the people he wishes he had after his shows. “That was it, all I could remember,” you motion to the piano, flushing bashfully. “I- stop,”

You laugh, your hand barely touching his wrist but motions for him to settle it down. “Bravo,” he smirks at you, wiggling his eyebrows. “That was amazing. Talented. You could be the next, I don’t know, Billy Joel.”

“I barely finished the song,” you nudge your knee with his. “I actually think I made a few mistakes but, uh, thanks,” Eddie fights the urge to remove the lone lint from your hair. He smiles at you instead, settling his hands on his lap. “What about you? Still playing the guitar?”

Eddie’s shoulder bumps with yours when you sway gently as your right hand presses all five fingers onto the keys. He can't stop looking at you, anywhere but your eyes really, so they mostly stay at your cheeks. Sometimes shyly at the plumpness of your lips chastely, or at the dimples threatening to deepen. “Still do. We play at The Hideout every weekend for some cash. We’ve got a crowd of about five…drunks.”

He feels that unfamiliar sensation of heat blooming in his cheeks when you laugh. It’s as soft and inviting as the piano that your hands rest on. “You should come see us,” Eddie continues, nudging his shoulder with yours. “That way I can tell my uncle we’ve got six people watching us now.”

“Hm,” you remove your hands from the keyboard, copying his slumped posture albeit a bit more poise. “I might think about it. If you play me a song too,” you raise your brow at his grimace. “What? It’s only fair.”

“Fine,” Eddie crosses his legs over the small bench, walking around with his hair twirling over his shoulder as he does so. His eyes never leave you even as he crosses the room to pick up an acoustic guitar. “Damn room doesn’t even have an electric guitar. Amplifier’s at the gym and I hate that place.”

You laugh, watching him take the neck of the brown guitar and grab a monobloc from a stack beside the door. He sets it beside the keyboard, awkwardly sitting down before he sets the guitar on his lap eagerly. Eddie smiles at you, grabbing a part of his hair and hiding his mouth behind it bashfully.

“What song, m’lady?” he peers at you through his eyelashes. Eddie feels triumphant when he makes you laugh again, thinking he could watch you push your hair behind your ear with a demure look any time of the day.

Your shoulders raise into a shrug, the smile on your face falling a bit. “Dunno. Ever heard of The Outfield?” 

“On the radio. When my uncle listens to music early in the morning,” his fingers slide across the strings, pressing randomly on frets. “Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes I listen to music other than metal.”

“Shocker,” you gasp dramatically. “You’ve ruined your image for me. I don’t see you as a metalhead anymore. You’re merely a commoner. A pretender.”

“You wound me,” he pouts at you. “Come on, (y/n). Give me a song,”

“Alright,” you rest your elbow on the keyboard, cheek on your fist. “Your Love. The Outfield. Think you know it or you’re just pretending?”

“Think I might have studied this for… other embarrassing purposes. But yes, I know it.” He clears his throat. “Prepare to cover your ears,”

Your Love wasn’t a song that was merely played by a guitar. However, an acoustic wouldn’t hurt. Not when he’s doing it for you. Eddie fears pressing his fingers on the wrong string, or a strain from his voice because that would just be plain humiliating. 

Your observance adds fuel to the fire of his confidence, while it also simultaneously makes him nervous ‘cause you’re watching; not just listening, not judging. You’re watching him like you actually want to see him play. And as far as he could remember, you’re the first girl to actually pay attention to what he’s playing without any cruel thoughts. He wonders if you think he’s great at this, just as much as he thought you were remarkable in the whole piano thing. 

Come on. E, C minor, B, E- no A. A, goddamnit.

When he almost misplaced his finger on the wrong string, he almost cried. But you’re not looking at his face anyway, perhaps too enthralled with the gentle sound of plucking; the deep baritone-like sound that the brass string produces makes you sway similarly like his earlier. 

“I ain't got many friends left to talk to, nowhere to run when I'm in trouble,” he shoots you a nervous glance, and he’s almost thankful that you’re looking at his hands. “You know I'd do anything for you, stay the night but keep it undercover,”

“You’ve got a nice voice,” his fingers slide across the brass string so quickly that it almost burns his fingertips when his voice dies in his throat and he looks up at you. “S-sorry.”

Eddie sets the guitar down, the flat of its back on his lap and knees. “No, it’s alright. Thanks,” you smile warily when he scratches nervously at the guitar. “So um- you gonna come see us in The Hideout? No pressure. Just, so I can show you that I really am into metal.”

Your lips tug downwards into an upside-down smile that teases him. Eddie tips his head back, flashing you a toothy grin as you say. “I’ll see to it, Eddie Munson,” you take a glance at your watch. “U-unfortunately though, I’ve got to go.”

He fights the urge to voice his disdain through a quiet groan of protest when he sees you reach on the other side of the bench to take your bag and sling it over your shoulder before you stand up from your seat. Eddie places the guitar on the ground, nervously fiddling with his fingers. “Um. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Stopping in your movements, your thumb slides between the leather strap of your bag and your shoulders. “Yeah. Sure. If you’ll see me, anyway.”

“I’m sure I will,” he offers you a smile.

He watches you leave with a sad frown. 

But later that night though, when he talks to Dustin on the RT, he remembers telling him that the girl in the purple dress wore ripped jeans now and a yellow blouse covered in pink flowers, her hair down in loose waves over her shoulders that enticed him. Eddie remembers telling him you’d looked mature, prettier, and that maybe you’d come to his show next week.

What he doesn’t tell him, though, is that he remembers every spot on your face that had dimples when you smile. That your voice was like petal silk that pleases his fingertips as he rubs it between them; or that your hands had similar scars like his, only you’ve gotten them for a different reason. How graceful you’d looked playing the keyboard like you’d been the only one in that room. 

A veridical sense of déjà vu makes his mind tingle and his heart twist. In his bed, Eddie has his hands over his stomach, staring up his ceiling with a poster of Tiamat he once saw during a yard sale that he bought. But he thinks of you, the exiguous curiousness grows the longer he remembers that bright smile on your face. And he feels nothing but the want inside him that yearns to see you again.

Justine never knew the rules

Hung down with the freaks and ghouls

No apologies ever need be made

I know you better than you fake it

“Lost in a purple hill, shake these zipper blues? Hey, Nancy, do you think—”

A shoulder bumps you, too hard to be taken as an accident. Your notebook falls to the ground, ball pen tight in your hand as you let out a startled gasp. You look at the boy first, whose eyes widen in embarrassment as they flicker between the journal on the floor and to your agape mouth. 

You should have expected it. The halls were crowded and there were very eager students to enter the cafeteria and take tables before someone else would. But still, you’re taken aback by the sudden impact, even after almost squeezing yourself against the lockers just so you would avoid this kind of incident.

“Shit, dude, I’m sorry,” 

You give him a tight smile. “‘S alright,” he apologizes through a useless smile before he’s being dragged away by his friends. Nancy spins around at the upheaval, and follows the direction of your eyesight before she frowns in disdain.

Asshole didn’t even bother to pick it up for you. Or ask if you were alright.

“What a prick,” she clicks her tongue to the roof of her mouth. You ignore the slight throb on your shoulder, bending down to pick up your notebook and wipe whatever dirt it's picked up from the ground. “Is it ruined?”

Shaking your head, you close it shut and hug it close to your chest. “No. It’s alright. I’m just lucky the floor doesn’t have any piss or something. Or else I would have…punched that guy,”

Nancy chuckles, shaking her head. She turns back around, clutching your wrist to go through the sweaty sea of rushing students. “I doubt that—ow, hey!”

Your face hits Nancy’s permed coils, nose meeting the Fabergé glory of her shampoo. You grimace, moving away to see your friend rubbing her shoulder before you see Patrick McKinney furrow his eyebrows in worry at his mistake. 

“Sorry. You alright, Wheeler?” he reaches out to rub her shoulder chastely, but Nancy shrugs it off, nodding. Patrick’s eyes relax, taking a glance at you before he realizes he doesn’t know who you are before he pats her shoulder carefully. “Alright. Sorry, again.”

It was difficult to hide the frown that paints itself on your face when Nancy simply grabs your wrist, guiding you around the crowd once more. And there’s this annoying itch in your head that keeps on reminding you how unlucky you’d been that you bumped into an apathetic guy who hadn’t even bothered to ask if you were alright whereas Nancy got sympathetic eyes and genuine concern. 

And you thought, well that’s because they knew her. Having to date Steve Harrington when he was still here, who’d been part of the basketball team himself, of course they knew her. You? The guy looked at you like some random crayon found on the ground. So you tell yourself to get over it; they don’t care and neither do you. It was a simple bump. Your friends would have asked if you were okay.

Nancy didn’t.

Well, she was distracted.

No, she wasn’t.

Shut up.

The cafeteria doors are left open with the people that surges through. Nancy stands on her tiptoes, searching for the boy with glasses that made his eyes larger and took up half his face — Fred, you remember; you practically sink onto her shoulder in fear of accidentally bumping into someone again. And fuck, how muscly was that guy for your shoulder to hurt?

When she spots him, Nancy’s quick to drag you to her side and sit you down beside her in front of Fred, who’d immediately chatted about this thing he’s seen somewhere you don't bother understanding. But when his eyes land on you, his talking stops. Lips snapping shut and he’s staring at you with those wide eyes of his, the scar on his cheek bending when he smiles cheekily at you, his forearms resting side by side on the table as he leans closer.

“I heard a rumor that you were with Eddie Munson yesterday,” he narrows his eyes playfully. Nancy whips her head at you, astounded with the new gossip she’s heard, especially now that it included you.  

Nervous with the attention diverted to you, you move back, fingers fidgeting on your lap. “What? Where’d you hear that?”

“Andy saw you.”

“Who’s Andy?”

“That guy who kinda looks like Arnold Schwarze-something.”

Nancy snorts. “He does not look like him.”

Frowning, you lean closer. “What was he doing there yesterday?”

Beside you, Nancy opens a pack of pudding pie that she quietly offers to you. You shake your head politely, offering her a short smile before Fred asks for your attention with a simple tap on your elbow. “He left something by the locker room. Then he said he caught Eddie Munson sitting beside you on a small chair inside the music room being…shit, Nance, what’d he say?”

She shrugs, mouthful. “Dunno. Cute? Or, weird?”

“Somewhere along those lines, but we’re sugarcoating it for you,” he leans closer. “You do know who Eddie Munson is, right? Like, what people say?”

Nancy reaches behind you to take the Hi-C juice box in your bag and puts the straw in for you, shoving it in front of you that you gladly take and quietly thank her for as you say, “That he’s a freak? Just because he dresses out of the trend doesn’t mean he’s a freak, y’know?”

“Steve used to think he was,” Nancy raises her eyebrows at you. “I mean, I don’t think he’s a freak. He does have an influence on my brother though. He’s growing his hair out. Like a mullet, or something.”

“Well he’s not a freak,” you bring the small plastic straw to your lips, the sweet orange-y flavor of the mechanized juice filling your taste buds. “He’s nice. He said I had a…nice voice.”

No one’s said that to me before.

“That’s sweet,” Fred pouts. “Don’t know. Maybe he’s planning on luring you in as a sacrifice.”

Eddie? Cult leader luring you in for some sacrifice? The same person who’d smiled kindly, watched you play the piano like he was actually interested in your performance and applauded you like he’d been watching a breathtaking opera at the same time, invited you to watch his band at some dingy restaurant and thought ghosts might have been haunting him?

His style might say otherwise—with all those brutish rings he’d harbored so proudly and his disheveled mullet-ish hair. But with those wide, curious eyes that watched you like the most interesting flower blooming from the iced frozen ground, a voice so benign and placid who’d praised you in a way anybody else wouldn’t? No. He’s not a cult leader. Or a freak.

And you’d only known him from the mystifying, blurry memories and the couple minutes you’d spent with him yesterday. 

That same Eddie who you found with a small frown that lifts into a charming smile when his eyes find you. Briefly does he stop talking with his friends from across the room when your eyes link with his. And Eddie presents you a smile so pretty it makes you dizzy; with his style different, that same leather jacket with a red flannel beneath and a band shirt you don’t recognize, but he had the same fondness in his look that makes your heart flutter wildly like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon. 

You feel a spark of electricity ignite in the tendrils of your veins; the sound of your heart beating in your ears as everything else muffles and the spotlight goes onto him — like the sun beaming through the window to show you what you’d been looking for. 

Yeah sure, he’s a cult leader.

(A cult leader who made you feel noticed in a town with 15,000 ignorant, judgy people despite being with him in less than thirty minutes.)

“What’s she smiling at— oh,” with her laced fingers, Nancy places them beneath her chin and tilts her head sideways to take a glimpse of Eddie, who’s still looking at you. “That’s cute,”

“You really shouldn’t believe rumors,” You turn to her, nudging your juice box with her hand. “I mean, I’ve been here for three months. I barely know him and I think he’s just…being himself. It’s like this town hates people who are comfortable being themselves.”

The corners of Fred’s lips tug down. “Ouch,”

“What? It’s true,” 

“Y’know, we had a yard sale last year,” Nancy tells Fred. “Eddie was there lurking.”

“And?”

“Seemed like he didn't caused any trouble. Just roamed around, gave this kid a stuffed animal when he couldn't reach it. He seems nice, Fred.”

And you almost tell them that five years ago, Eddie Munson followed you backstage when he saw you crying; That he’d asked you if you were okay, that he said you’d do great and you did, and in between those hazy flashes of cut memories, you almost tell them that he wore a Bauhaus shirt too large for him, that his hair was buzzed and he made you laugh until you’d—quite literally—forgotten the reason why you cried in the first place.

—

“Hey there, Mandy,”

You yell, clutching the notebook closer to your chest and the pen tight in your hand that it might pop the ink out. Eddie’s hands raise in defense, eyes widening in shock as you both stop walking, the leaves crunching beneath your worn-out shoes and his white sneakers, the birds flying away from the disruption. 

“Jesus Christ,”

“We gotta stop meeting like this,” familiar, but the memory’s lost in your worry-filled mind. You laugh disbelievingly at him, closing your notebook and tucking the pen behind your ear. “What?”

“Nothing!” you scratch the dents on your notebook, shying away from Eddie’s intensive look. “Mandy? ‘S not my name.”

“I know. But it’s a cool nickname. And you know,” he tilts his head sideways. “The song.”

You smile when his head lulls back, chuckling shortly when you both begin walking again. Eddie has his hands behind his back, his hair wild from the harsh winds of August’s warm breeze. Which he fixes with quick pats to the hair covering half his forehead, his eyes never leaving you.

“Why are you walking home?” you see him bring his hands in front, toying with his rings, pushing them in and out of his fingers. 

When you look up at him, your right eye squints from the brightness of the sun until he steps over it. “I wanted to walk home. And, um, I don’t have a car,” you flush beneath his piercing gaze. “What about you?”

“Because I saw you walking home,” he grins. “You were writing while you were walking so I thought maybe I should come join you in case you accidentally trip,” 

The sun draws a halo above his head, painting over the devil horns drawn onto him. It gives him a sacrilegious glow, intriguing you to just push his hair behind his ears and ask him all the things that made him smile just so you could see him smile once more. Yet, you don’t; your hands stay around your notebook, your mouth parts but never says anything, and you merely try to say those words through your eyes.

Cult leader, my ass.

“What, so you…left your car in school so you could walk with me?”

He shrugs. “I guess so. It’s still there when I come back, anyway. After I walk you home,” Eddie swallows. “...after I walk you home as a friend.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

Eddie’s lips purse. “So…” he makes a noise, like a random music note. “I didn’t see you in history today,”

History was (unfortunately) the only class you shared with Eddie. Where in the first three months, you’d kept on asking yourself where you’d seen him over and over again as you stared at the back of his head. (Wishing he’d turn around and ask for your name, if he’d seen you before, and notice you like he’d notice every random fuzz he’d find on his table.)

And he noticed you today. Even when you weren’t there, the thought of him thinking about you and wondering where you were sets a comfortable flame in your cold chest. 

“I was at the clinic,” you smile a little. “Some guy bumped into me earlier and I don’t know what he’s made of. It really hurt,”

His eyes darken into a gloom of concern, his eyebrows meeting like a broken bridge. “Are you alright? You okay now? Does it, uh, still hurt?”

“A bit,” you roll the injured shoulder. “Still kinda sore. ‘S like I played football, or something.”

Eddie’s teeth join behind his lips that remain separated, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout you can’t fathom the meaning behind. Then he’s biting it, his hands clenching and unclenching like he’s trying to make the hardest decision of his life before he’s pointing his thumb behind him. 

“Do you wanna go back to my van?” he asks quickly. “I’ve got something cold in there and I could help you. And I can drive you home, too,” his voice is eager and almost excited with a lace of hope. “But only if you want to,”

You’re unheistant when you say, “Yes,” take me with you. Aid me. Ask me how I am and I’d tell you. 

The walk back to school was quicker with his urgent feet that you had difficulty catching up with. You spot his car parked behind the school, befuddled with the amount of dents and the way his van leans sideways more than evenly. Eddie has a hand hovering behind you as he guides you, the other hurling the backdoors open that tricks you into thinking it’s gonna be thrown aside.

The back of his van was messy — with four empty beer cartons stashed aside, a Bauhaus poster that matched Eddie’s shirt with its sides ripped, white ridges seen in that black paper, a red cooler behind the cartons, and a blanket that you assumed used to be white but has been left unwashed for who knows how long. 

But despite the messy appearance, you sit on top of the blanket when he asks you to. And he sits beside you, 

a heavy hop that makes the van shake slightly and a creak underneath. He shoots you an embarrassed smile, a hand behind him to prop himself up as he twists his torso and pulls on the cooler until it slides near him.

When Eddie opens it, it’s nothing but almost melted ice and four bottles of Boston Lager with one of them being half-empty. You peer over the red box, watching as his hand dives through the cold mess before he hands you an unopened beer bottle.

Out of curiosity, you bring it up to your nose and take a whiff just because.

Eddie chortles. “What’s it smell like?”

You frown. “Like water.”

He stops you from putting the bottle right at your shoulder, looking for something behind him before he sighs scornly, reaching out behind him to pull out a black bandana decorated with large, intimidating skulls. “Here just—wrap it around so it won't wet your shirt too much,”

Eddie gently takes the bottle from you, half of his fingertips covering yours. Half a touch and it already makes you feel like someone had thrown a rope down the hole you’d been stuck in and pulled you out; in that slight formidable tactility does your skin tingle, a warmth that feels like you’re hovering your hands over the flawless dance of a flame. A caress that barely lasts ten seconds, but was a lifetime of gratifyingly dizzy touches. 

The coldness of the bottle doesn’t scathe you anymore now with his handkerchief wrapped around it. It seems like Eddie felt the same way, with how his neck reddens, and abruptly places his hands on his lap, watching you from the corner of his eye as you place the bottle on your shoulder. 

But the silence is comfortable, with the howl of the wind and the rustling of the trees. You dab the bottle on your shoulder, the bandana itself smelling of cigarettes and a boyish aroma you can’t comprehend, but you had a feeling it smelt just like him. The white skull turns gray, the cloth dampens and turns cold, and you turn to see Eddie with his nose wrinkled into a quick sniff before he looks around him and settles on your notebook.

“So what were you writing?” He gently takes the purple notebook into his hand, tracing its ridges and checking its black spine, flipping it around where he sees your name written on the upper left corner in small cursives.

“Um, just…things,” you pinch your nose with a vacant hand. “Just lyrics, I guess.”

“You? Lyricist?” Removing the hand from your nose, you reach over to flip the journal open, thumb skimming across the thick pages. “Just when I thought you were cool with the whole piano thing,” your face heats, smiling sheepishly at him.

“I wouldn’t say I’m great at this whole thing, though,” your thumb stops on a page you’d been writing on. Eddie diverts his attention on the half-filled page, head tilting down as he brings the notebook closer to his face.

You fear his judgment; not because you don’t trust him, but it leans more into what you’d gone through. That his criticism will be cruel, unkind and harsh like others had been, taking out all their negativity into the words you’d poured your mind onto, leaving without an apology or at least a clement admonition. 

There’s doubt that spreads across your mind. You watch as Eddie pokes his tongue out to graze his teeth, his thumbs drumming on your notebook, his own eyes flitting between your unaligned writing. But the smile that breaks across his charming face calms the dread down. Eddie looks at you, the crinkles on the corner of his eyes so endearing. 

“Lost in a purple hill, shake these zipper blues,” he reads out loud. “I like it. It’s very…savvy,”

“Savvy?”

“Savvy. Innovative. Creative,” you beam at him, your lips starting to ache from the bright smile you hold as Eddie’s head flips between your creative words and your contagious joy. “What? It’s amazing. Literally, all the words you can find in a dictionary that’s a synonym for creative. It’s—it’s that. W-what?”

His eyebrows join in a confused hill as the smile remains on his face, shaking his head at the shock that amalgamates with your glee. “Nothing,” you look away, feeling your entire body heating with the new sensation of appreciation. “I just thought it was kinda stupid. Like, maybe no one would understand it, y’know?”

Eddie’s thumb rubs his bottom lip. “Well, tell me what it means—hey, please?” he pouts playfully at you. “Tell me what it means, come on. I like it, I might as well know the meaning behind it, right?”

You shake your head in disbelief, placing the bottle on your shoulder to the space beside the two of you.  “Alright. Um, well, a hill right? You get up this hill and you feel disconnected from the world in…a good way. You- lose all toxicity and burden this place gives you. And I chose purple because, well, I like the color purple,” you laugh nervously. “And, zipper blues. It’s this depressed feeling you get from moving around too much. So you get lost up this hill, you get rid of that sorrow, and just disconnect all your problems. And, I don’t know if it makes any sense but—I’m rambling too much. I’m sorry—”

“No!” Eddie reaches out to place his hand on top of yours, quick and urgent to touch you again and the way his hand softens on you feels like he’d been substantially relieved to do something Eddie’s stopping himself from doing. Like water to a slowly dying flower, your heart blooms at the touch you’ve wanted to sense since earlier as he stops you from your ranting. “It’s okay. I- I get what you mean. And it’s…”

You feel him squeeze your hand gently. “It’s…?”

“I’m thinking of other cool words,”

You laugh bashfully, a laugh he copies. A laugh that reaches his eyes, went from deep into something high like a giggle until a small snort comes from him. You feel elated to make him laugh this way despite saying nothing. 

“It’s amazing, (y/n),” he doesn’t say Mandy, but it mantles your insides nonetheless. “You have other songs you’ve written?”

Toying with the neck of the beer, you nod. “I’ve got a couple of papers back in my place but, uh, I’m not exactly allowed to invite boys in my place yet.” he moues playfully. “But I could um, talk to you over it on the phone? Or give it to you tomorrow? I should just give it to you tomorrow, you don’t have to give me your number—”

Eddie squeezes your hand again. “Hey,” he chuckles at you. “Relax, Mandy. I’ll give you my number and we can talk, yeah?”

You feel like you’re waiting for an ice cream cone to be offered to you when Eddie plucks the pen behind your ear and writes his number down on the bottom of the page that he’s read. His writing is scrawny, unaligned like yours, capitalized when he leaves a note beneath the digits that you can’t read. He tells you not to read it yet after he offers to drive you home. 

The drive to your home was filled with small talk and music from the stack of cassettes on the back of his car. Ranging from Metallica to Judas Priest as said from the cases you gave him. And despite his attempt at his careful driving, the van sways against the uneven asphalt of the town streets. 

Eddie, with a hand on the steering wheel, has a hand hovering behind you as you twist your torso and lean towards the backseat to search for more cassette tapes. 

“What are you even looking for?” he asks, carefully turning left. You pick through the mountain of unarranged music, placing them next to each other when you see something you’re not looking for. “Careful. You might fall forward and I’ll just laugh at you.”

“I found it—turn right!” The wheels of his car screech at the sudden pivot, makes you clutch the grab handle and his arm, feet lifting off the clutch and onto the brakes where he presses lightly. “Fuck,”

“Sorry,” he pushes his hair out of his face, glancing at the cassette in your hand. “Oh, I didn’t know I have that,”

The black case of Reggatta De Blanc is clutched tightly in your hold. “I didn’t know you listened to The Police,” you flip it, scanning the back. “They’re my favorite band.”

“I didn’t know you listened to rock,” he’s still pressing lightly on the brakes to slow the van down, the smoke leaving the hood grows both your concerns. “I used to listen to them. Well, when I used to drive my Uncle to work when his car broke down for a while. Refused to listen to any of my tapes. Misfits? No. Iron Maiden? Still no. I mean, I get that he’s old, or something, but he has to try new things out!”

You open his player and withdraw Sisters of Mercy, prompting him to express his displeasure with a half-joking gasp and a short 'hey!' across the cut music. But you swiftly insert the tape to stop him. Eddie's fists clench over the peeling leather steering wheel, his gaze fixed on you.

“The Police, huh,” he grins at you. You swallow the upbeat tempo of Message in a Bottle, bopping your head to the introduction riff. Eddie’s head turns between the road and you. “Thought you’d be more Kate Bush, or something. Billy Joel. Madonna, maybe. Queen. Elton John. The Cure…”

With a twisted smile, you run your nails through the polyester filament yarn of your seatbelt. “I do. I don’t have a specific genre, Munson,” you turn to him. “I can like anything. Hell, I like W.A.S.P. And Joan Jett”

He gasps, turning right. “& The Blackhearts?”

“Fuck yeah,”

Eddie’s tongue clicks with the roof of his mouth, shaking his head. “What a potty mouth, Mandy.” his nose wrinkles when he laughs. Angelic, you think. A laugh a cult leader wouldn’t have; something Eddie would have. 

“Well, people usually don’t believe me,” you laugh timidly. “‘S like people need to like just one genre and make it their whole personality. Like, what if I like metal and pop at the same time?” his eyebrows raise a bit. “Sorry. N-no offense. It’s just…annoying, at times.”

You remember being twelve, recently having left Hawkins with a deep frown on your face. But you had a girl invited to your room in search of a new friend. With a borrowed boombox, you showed her Blue Öyster Cult after going through countless tapes of pop artists. And when she found out that the band had a different type of music, way different than the ones you’d just listened to, she’d told you: listening to different types of music makes you unbalanced. You need to stick to the one that makes you you. Or else people wouldn’t know who you are.

Wise words for a pretentious girl, you thought back then. Nevertheless, you believed her. 

For five years. 

But when you returned to Hawkins, you need reinvention. Because girls were only ever interesting when they’d reinvent themselves every once in a while to keep people hooked on. And you were tired of being unseen, invalidated; so you went back to your older self. Someone who played the piano but enjoys metal as much as Eddie Munson did, from what you’ve seen. You want to show him that side of you, in hopes for affirmation.

“None taken,” he breathes. “But, you’re right. No need to apologize.” your stomach buzzes with his accordance. “Metal’s just…me, though,” unlike earlier, Eddie turns the hazard before he turns. “So, I hope you don’t mind a man with a shag who’s a high school repeat’s driving you home, sweets,”

Sweets. Your whole body burns in the best way, biting back a smile. “No. I don’t mind. I like that.”

“I like that for you, though,” he gesticulates to you. “Being unashamedly yourself. Without aaany judgment whatsoever. And, uh, that’s amazing,” Eddie, although with his words genuine, smiles weakly and sweetly at you; harbors something that he wants to say but stops himself from doing so. “I should be like you more often.”

“I think you’re already being yourself,” your eyes trace the scratches on the windows, the slight blur on the corner of his windscreen; what once was a far distance of a motion blur of modern homes turns slower when Eddie’s foot lifts slowly from the accelerator. “I should be like you.”

“Trust me. You-...” when he looks at you, he visibly softens at your countenance. His adam's apple bobs in what seems to be rich poignance with the way his pupils slightly shrink when he flits his eyes away from you, only to dilate and almost take over his brown irises when they look back at you a mere second later. Eddie chuckles dryly, can't help but smile earnestly at you. “I like you as yourself, (y/n),”

Your hand compels you to reach for his. Like magnets forced to meet. But the console which separates you both hinders you from doing so. But maybe it was your fear; your lack of courage. A film reel in your mind that slides through its mid-tone dull colors of a possible incident — he’ll hold your hand tighter with the gentle caress of his calloused thumb that alleviates the rigorous pounding of your heart and smiles brighter than the ultraviolet sun. 

Or his face would twist in disgust and shove your hand back on your lap, lips curled into revulsion and he’d ask you what was wrong with you, reject any excuse that would come out of your mouth like they always did before he’d drop you home and ignore you like you didn’t exist.

Keep it together.

“Thanks,” you mumble, the pads of your thumbs come across the linear scars on your fingers. You see Eddie balk in his seat, lips pursed to make small incomprehensible sounds while he bobs his head to Message in a Bottle. Your house emerges, curtains drawn and run down car missing. Disappointedly, you press on the red button of the seat belt buckle. “Right here, Eddie.”

The van halts to a stop, passenger door right in front of the pathway to your small home. The radio lowers, the seat belt snapping back in place tickles your arm, and dismay wooshes with his loud ac. 

But Eddie leaves unexpectedly before you do, the unlocking sound of his car door disappears quicker than the door slamming shut. You watch as he crosses over with squinted eyes, until he reaches to open your door, bowing lightly with an arm stretched towards your house; a smile that reaches up his eyes and a dimple that comes with.

“M’lady,” he nods his head at you. You can’t help but laugh, picking the bag up from between your legs and slinging it over your shoulder, the heat adding an unfortunate ache on your eyes that shoots up to your head and almost burns any skin that’s exposed. Eddie notices. “‘S hot, isn’t it?”

“Unusually hot,” you shake your head. Eddie closes the door, walking on the unmowed grass on your small lawn until you both end up beneath the porch, in the shade that soothes you.

His eyes desecrate the components of your door, tracing the doorbell button, lips making small psh sh sounds before Eddie finally looks down at you. “Can I have your number?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “But I already have yours.”

“So I can call you anytime, Mandy,” he laughs heartily. “I can’t exactly save phone numbers, can I?”

You flush in embarrassment. “Right. Sorry,” you take the pen from behind your ear, reaching out. “Can I have your arm, please?”

Eddie smiles. “Lovely manners.”

He shows you his arm, a small, almost unnoticeable butterfly tattooed on his wrist where you write your number above it. “Nice tat,” you smile up at him, your own blue ink that’s botched to almost unusable decorates his pale skin.

“Yeah, I don’t really know how I got that,” his eye shuts, nose wrinkling, watches your eleven digits appear on his wrist along the veins. “Nice,” he sings. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to get going,” Eddie tugs on his bracelet, his feet lifting off the porch. “See you ‘round, Mandy. Shake those zipper blues beneath the burning solari for me, won’t you?”

You bid him goodbye with a sad wave, but you cover it with a smile.

Shake those zipper blues beneath the burning solari. Huh.

Morphine city slippin' dues

Down to see

That we don't even care

As restless as we are

It was a battle between who was gonna call first.

That day when Eddie drove back to the trailer, quietly as Wayne took a nap on the fold-up bed in the living room, he went inside his bedroom and locked the door. Barely was it night. Barely. Yet there he was, sitting on his bed clad in nothing but a random shirt and boxers as he waited for your call.

Nothing.

So he sat and played and thought and dreamed. 

Shake those zipper blues beneath the burning solari? What the fuck does that even mean?

The first ring on his phone, it hadn’t come from you. Mike Wheeler asked if he’d used any kind of shampoo on his hair, and what brand it had been. Eddie answered that it was three-in-one, no specific brand. Just anything he could afford. The second had come from Dustin, who’d asked about something DnD related that Eddie had already forgotten. 

And then the third was from Reefer Rick, who was put on probation and asked how he was and honestly, the phone call lasted for two hours. A conversation that barely included any drug talk whatsoever and simply what had happened in their lives.

So obviously, Eddie couldn’t help but mention you. Minus your name for safety reasons.

“Shit, dude. She’s… she’s nice. She’s smart and she writes songs like I do and she plays the piano. And I actually met her before! ‘S just that I don’t exactly-... remember it, y’know?”

“Don’t tell me you’re fallin’ in love, kid.”

“I’m not!”

“You know about love and how dangerous it is, don’t you?”

He did. 

Like a dangerous game of Dungeons and Dragons.

Yet there he was, the sun gone and the skies Stygian, painted with scattered specks of the burning stars and the crescent moon. Eddie’s patience had slowly been wilting, his knee bounced on the floor and his ass was sore from sitting too long on his lumpy mattress. A notebook in hand with his own clusterfuck of rhyming words with deep elucidations in hopes you’d be talking about songwriting. 

And when the phone rang, he stood up faster than the speed of light and he took the handset off the wall and pressed it up to his tingling ears. 

“Hello?”

A huff of a laugh. “Hey, Eds.”

Eds. Eds Eds Eds Eds. 

His heart palpitated; a ruthless attack of the Cupid’s red piercing arrow shot through his heart. Eddie Munson rested his hand against the wall and the other tight on the phone receiver as his knees liquified from your giggle. 

“Hey there, Mandy.”

“I took your lyric, by the way,” he could only imagine what you looked like that night—pajamas, sleep shorts, a crop top, or a random band shirt he thinks you’d totally have, you’d still be pretty nonetheless. “Shake those zipper blues beneath the burning solari. It’s very impressive. Kinda making me not want to give you credit here,”

Eddie shook his head in playful disbelief and turned over to rest his back on the wall with a silly smile and a belly full of butterflies. “I’d very much appreciate the credit. At least then the world would know who I was.”

A playful sound of consideration kisses his eardrums. “Maybe. Yeah, sure. I’ll give you credit.”

Since then, phone calls had been filled with exchanged conceptualizations and words written with a botched ballpen onto crumpled pieces of papers; Eddie would see you in school, too. Passing each other shy smiles, listening to music in his van as he offers to drive you home, his hand discreetly turning back to you to pass notes during History. He no longer found the random fuzz on his table interesting and thought that the girl who answered his notes that ended each message with a smiley face was way more interesting than anything else in the world.

Maybe DnD and metal, too. But you came in first.

And every night, after a campaign or band practice, after his uncle would wish him farewell before heading off to work, the usual jejune midnights had turned into cavorting twilight nights. Before he knows it, he’s already brushing his teeth at six pm, like you’d smell his breath through the phone, and bounces his knee in anticipation in front of the phone. 

One night, when Wayne stayed home to get some proper rest, he'd noticed how Eddie had barely left the room to watch the tv with him, or how he hasn't played a guitar in weeks, or suddenly rush out a farewell to meet his friends.

He took a peek in the crack of his bedroom door, saw how his nephew had a lovesick smile as he laid on the floor with the phone on his ear babbling about things that has happened on his day or something about his past.

"You've been hogging up the phone, Eddie. I've got someone to call too, you know?"

Poor Eddie yelped, almost dropping the phone to the ground. Wayne chuckles, walking over to him which made Eddie clutch the phone to his chest. Wayne claps his shoulder.

"Yeah like who? That recently divorced mom beside Kapinsky's trailer?"

He jested to his uncle, who barks out a laugh. "Probably. I'm not the only one trying to woo girls here, son,"

"I- I'm not trying to woo him, man! I'm just-... trying to be her friend."

Wayne huffs with a smile and a light shake of his head.

It went on for weeks; countless calls that he didn't realize months had passed. Every day, every night, you’d become his friend; conversations started turning into somewhat remedial talks other than songwriting, telling each other the stories in your lives that none had experienced, talking shit of the judgementals and the great pretenders, and gave each other keys to your hearts for safekeeping.  

“What ever happened to Benny’s Burgers?”

“Heard some Russian kid got him killed, or something. Jason’s using it for his orgies now. Like ritualistic sacrifices are way more important than teenagers having sex all together. The children of god hath given into their temptations! Those gents might not but repent their sins for foul fornication!” 

“Eddie, I don’t care if you sell drugs. Half the kids in my old school in Queens sold them. Would almost kill each other for ‘stealing’ their clients. Hell, even half of the NYPD sold drugs.”

“In all honesty, it’s weird how you’re so normal about this.”

“My mom died when I was a baby. The orphanage had different answers on how I ended up there, though. My dad died, he was in jail, he dumped me there. But it doesn’t matter — I’ve got a new family now, anyway.”

“My old man’s in prison. Haven’t talked to him in years. My mom died too, so at least we have that in common, eh?”

“Sometimes I wish people cared. Like-... sometimes I wish they’d see me; stop treating me like a ghost and ask ‘hey, what songs can you play on the piano?’ and all that shit. ‘Hey, are you okay? What’d you feel about getting left at an orphanage? Sorry, I hit you on the shoulder.’ And all that stuff.”

“‘M kinda tired of being seen as a freak. I know everybody has their own thing. But sometimes I… wish I liked the same thing everybody else did. But that’s the thing about society and their codependency on approval — you like something that people think is far from normal, or something that people say isn’t- trendy, you’re a freak. I mean, sorry I like playing a fantasy game than Monopoly. Or- that I like Eddie Van Halen than Olivia Newton-John.”

“Hey, you love Olivia Newton-John!”

Laying in his bed of lumps and stains, Eddie imagined he’s in a field. The tall grass stroking his inked skin, the clouds that hover over him, all his devotion laid upon the clouds that mutate into your silhouette, which beguiles him more. And even when his visual morphs the sky gray and lets its sickening tears drip down onto him, he stares up at this cloud indentation of you that looks back at him. Until it’s blown away and he finally sees your spellbinding beauty. 

“Hey,” your voice startled him. “Still there, or you’re asleep?”

“No. This is Eddie’s soul speaking. He’s very asleep,” his jest was followed by an obnoxious snore that made you laugh brightly. He smiles. “Yeah, no. I’m still here. Sorry,”

“It’s okay,” you softly said. “Hey, um, my neck’s aching.”

He frowned. “Oh. Do you wanna continue this tomorrow?” Eddie twirls the cord around his finger, trapping the phone between his neck and ear.

“No,” you sighed. “Keep talking, please?”

“Okay,” Eddie cleared his throat. “Band practice went well. We, uh, learned a new song. Something that’s not metal. Gareth was kind of a bitch about it but hey, there’s no harm in trying something new.”

“Really?” he nodded, remembering you were not there before he said ‘yes’. “What song is it?”

Eddie turned to his side, facing his Blue Öyster Cult poster. “It’s a surprise, Mandy,” his scoff etched a smile on his frivolous face. “You’ll hear it when you come to Hideout.”

“Shame,” he thought you’d been pouting. Playfully, with your pink lip jutted out. “What should I wear when I watch, though?”

“Anything you want,” it made him panic a little; he didn’t have an outfit for the show. Eddie sat up, his foot knocking over an empty bottle that fell down on his floor that thankfully did not break but was loud enough to disrupt you.

“What was that?” you had asked. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he clutched his ankle, face crumbling in pain. “Yeah, babe, I’m alright,”

Shit.

He sensed it then. When your breathing went silent, when his heart stopped beating for a millisecond, the way your mind registered what he said the same time he did. Eddie’s body had loosened in panic.

“Okay,” you finally said, quiet and gentle. “Um, careful.”

“Thanks,” he almost said it again, getting himself distracted. “Thanks, (y/n),”

A pregnant pause. Eddie was massaging his ankle with a look that berated him for his idiotic freudian slip. He scolded himself by bumping the sore spot against the foot of his bed, hard enough that another loud thump was heard and tears brimmed the edge of his eyes.

“Okay, seriously, what is going on in there?” you chuckled incredulously. 

“Nothing!”

“You know what? You should come here before you accidentally trip on a knife.”

Eddie’s head dipped. “I thought you weren’t allowed to invite boys in your home?”

“I can rebel, you know,” he felt an eye roll. “Besides, my parents aren’t home and- I’m bored. And my neck hurts and everything’s better when you’re here.”

He deceived himself into thinking you meant nothing in the last part. Eddie felt the warmth rise to his cheeks then, something he’d grown familiar to seeing as it only happens when he’s with you. 

“Sure,” he picked up a random pair of shoes beneath his bed and opened his drawer to pull out the finest pair of jeans he owned. “Be there in a couple of minutes.”

That night, he parked his van a few houses from yours, and he immediately spotted the purple curtain of your windows. The light dimmed with the yellow warmth of your lamp, your silhouette moving across with something rectangular in your hand that he can only assume was your notebook. He felt slightly eccentric.

Eddie, ever the man who loves to put on a good show, decided to climb up the side of your home using the uneven ridges of the brick wall and your pipes. His palms had lightly scratched against the rough surface of the bricks, where he used all his strength to lift himself up until his head peeks through your window.

When his forearms rested on the stool of your window, he propped himself on one arm and used his left hand to knock rhythmically on the glass. Eddie saw your silhouette stop pacing, your shadow growing as you near your window and pulled the curtains back.

He’d smiled, bigger when he saw your shocked, wide-eyed gaze. Eddie knows you’re berating him when he hears your muffled rambling. You unlatched the window and pulled it up, your hands clutching his bare elbows.

“You idiot!” you hissed. “I told you my parents are gone. And you come up through the window? Are you insane? You could break your back or stab yourself with the bushes!”

Eddie fell face down, his cheek meeting your carpeted floor. He pressed his palms on the ground, pulling his entire body in until he flopped on your floor. And when he finally fixed himself and rids of the leaves and dirt that stuck to him, he stood up. And you slap his arm.

He gawped at you. “Ow!” he pouts, massaging his arm. “You wound me.”

“Relax,” Eddie took his shoes off. “It was just a slap, you drama queen.”

Eddie’s eyes wandered across your body. You were wearing a band shirt: Dead or Alive. He didn’t know who they were. But he didn’t care because then he’s got his eyes on your exposed legs, black sleep shorts that barely come across half your thighs and it made him swallow thickly, his blood flowing everywhere and god forbid had he popped a boner right in the middle of your room, he would have jumped out your window and broke his neck instead.

“Y-you know me,” his voice cracked the slightest. “Always a queen. Which is why I love the Queen. Not the Queen of England. The band, I mean. Well, I listen to them occasionally.”

You sat on your bed, kicking his shin. “I know, dummy.”

That had been a couple of nights ago.

Now he’s sitting bored, fourth row in the second lane, his chin on his palm, right hand drawing a small bat on the corner of his notebook. Along with some other words until he quietly rips the page off, folds it, and takes it in his hand before he moves it behind him.

Eddie feels the paper slip off his fingers. He thinks of your smile, whether it be a toothy grin, a closed lip or the one that made your teeth shine prettily. His body shivers from head to toe, cheeks tingling while his knee bounces in anticipation.

A light graze on his bare elbow startles him, the heel of his foot knocking against the metal leg of his seat. He takes the paper from the corner of his table, silently unfolding it.

I think that’s a bad idea.

Offended, he writes. I just said hi >:(

He gets a quick reply after he gives it to you. I can smell you thinking. I’m like a vampire. And I’m already telling you that filling someone’s locker with shaving cream is boring and a bad idea.

You snicker when he takes a quick glance at you with a silent gasp. Then what do you suggest we do?

Fill it with shaving cream and stick someone’s hair in it. It’s grosser.

It’s followed by a brief drawing of two stick people, one with a small triangular skirt and one with a guitar in it’s hand, in front of a crooked rectangle which he assumes is the locker, the door opened and curved drawings oozing out. And some small, clustered lines that represent the hair you’d told him about.

Eddie smiles brightly, folding it and shoving it in his pocket before he shoots you a silly smile. 

The bell rings, obnoxious and almost deafening. Eddie stands from his seat, watching you meticulously gather your stuff together, hands gently pushing your items inside your bag. He sits on his table, waiting.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Mandy,” He tucks his book on his torso, watching you sling your bag over your shoulder and narrow your eyes at him. “It’s a great idea,”

“I’m not one for bullying, but I think, even though I contributed to your prank knavery, it’s pretty tame and shit,” 

Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you, slapping the top of the door as he passes through. “Oh yeah? Give me something better, do tell.”

“I say fill the locker with water, but then it’ll just slip out,” he towers over you. Sometimes he likes to take advantage of the fact that people would move out of his way merely because they didn’t want to be touched or grazed by him like some disease; he can move faster. “Or we can get your little shrimps to make some machine type of thing that could explode in their locker.”

“Who? Dustin?” Eddie bumps his shoulder with yours. “I mean, yeah could be. And we can just blame it on him,”

“Great idea,” your face wrinkles in confusion. “Wait, who’s locker are you destroying, anyways?”

“Gareth’s,”

Your nose wrinkles. “What did Gareth ever do to you?”

“Breathing,” he sighs. “Anyway, are you doing something later?”

Even in a clustered hallway, Eddie finds it in himself to get the wind knocked out of him when you look up with pensive eyes. Your mouth parts, the ends of your front teeth peeking just a bit from beneath your top lip. You blink and your eyebrows widen.

“Nothing. Homework, maybe. Or just writing again,” his heart pangs at the sad sigh you let out. “Wanna come over?”

He brightens.

-

Eddie lays on your thick mattress, hands clasped together on top of the notebook that lays open on his chest. Eddie scans every saxe glory of your blue walls, smelling the citrus fragrance of your new white sheets. It’s soft, maybe softer than the field up weathertop, and comforting. You sit on the edge of the bed, W.A.S.P. playing out loud but not loud enough for a complaint. 

He turns his head to you, sees how your back is hunched with your notebook on your lap and your fingers drumming on the sides with your pen wedged in between your lips. Eddie leans up, peering over your shoulder.

I put my heart on a piece of paper and you throw it away(?) my heart’s on a string around my neck and

Half the page is scribbled words and annotations with doodles of flowers on the corners. The annoyance radiates off the inelegance of your structure, the bite marks that deepen on the plastic cap of your black pen, and your eyebrows that meet in the middle. Eddie wants to kiss your worry lines away, taking your face in his hands and wonder how, despite the agitated expression, could someone still look so pretty?

Taking his pen from beneath the notebook, he takes the cap off with his teeth. Eddie props himself up on one hand, crosses his arm over yours and presses the black tip on your lined page.

Hi. Notice me pls :(

You laugh cordially, snapping your head to him with your chin on your shoulder and his chin on your bicep, his bottom lip jutting out from the lack of attention. 

“What’s up, Mands, huh?” his chin nudges your arm. You soften. “Writer’s block?”

“Writer’s block are for authors,” you say in a small voice.

“Writers. Songwriters. Semantics,” Eddie purses his lips. “Do you wanna turn the radio off? It’s what usually ruins the whole thinking thing, sometimes.”

“No,” you pout. “Maybe I just need a break. I don’t even know why I’m so upset about this. ‘S so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Eddie readjusts himself, his upper body being propped up by his arm with his legs spread on your mattress, knocking your arm with his temple. “Tell me why you’re upset. Come on.” 

You ruminate, staring deep into his eyes. “God, I don’t know, Eddie. It’s like my mind’s all hazy these days. It won’t work. Everytime I try to finish this stupid song, I- my mind just stops. It’s like I’ve forgotten the English dictionary, or something. I feel so illiterate. A freakin- a fucking ten year old could make a christmas jingle faster than I can finish this stupid stanza.” you slam your pen in the middle, closing your eyes in a deep sigh. “It’s tiring— I’m sorry. I talk too much.”

Eddie wants to draw this out. Close the space that’s almost not even there and take you into his arms as he heeds the words you avow with the silk petal of your voice that burrs when you tiptoe the edge of a breakdown. But you’re already looking away from him with a visible wobble of your bottom lip.

“Hey, hey,” he finally sits, ignoring the ache on his arm when he limits himself by touching your shoulder rather than grasping your chin; there’s still the lingering hesitation of crossing boundaries when it comes to physical contact, and he doesn’t want to drive you away. “You don’t talk too much. I love listening to you talk,”

A shimmer in your eyes from the tears that coat your irises. You blink rapidly and smile weakly. “Thanks. That’s- that’s nice.”

“You know what,” he plops to his stomach, reaching over to the ground where his open bag laid and took out two cans of Budweiser, warm with dents on the silver tin. “Let’s drink— just one! Have you ever tried?”

“I told you I used to live in New York. The only things I haven’t tried are coke and marijuana,” you take the can from him. “My dad gave me beer when I was fifteen. Not exactly great parenting but, we were alone and he didn’t know what to feed me.”

He opens the can and drinks the bitter alcohol with ease, letting it leave a burning sensation on his tongue as he watches you do the same. Eddie chortles when your face rumples in distaste, a frown replacing your woeful pout. 

“You alright there, Mands?” He raises a brow. “Sure your daddy didn’t give you apple juice?”

“Jesus christ,” you clear your throat. “I’m starting to think he did.” Eddie gently takes the can from you when you give it to him, gently placing it on your bedside table. “You know, Fred Benson has a party a couple blocks from here.”

Eddie takes another athirst sip. “Who?”

“Fred. The guy with glasses who’s with Nancy? I sat with him during lunch?”

“Oh right!” He sets his beer beside yours. “He’s nice. He put Hellfire Club in the student yearbook.”

“We should loosen up a bit,” you stand up, stretching your limbs and wince at the ache on your back. Your Beatles shirt, cut up to a midriff, exposes your stomach, a small scar just on the side of your hip and it makes Eddie flustered. He looks down at his hands. “We should go to the party.”

Eddie hops off your bed with the twist of his legs. “You can’t just leave. What about your parents?”

“I can rebel,” you repeat playfully. “And since when do you care about all that stuff, guy-who-got-arrested-once-when-he-sold-weed-to-an-undercover-cop?"

“I care when it comes to you,” he says softly, and he thinks you must have been pretending not to hear what he said. “Gonna call them or leave a note?”

“Gonna tell them I’ll sleep at Nancy’s,” you pull your drawer open and take a yellow sticky note out, scribbling down. Eddie takes his shoes from beside your bedroom door, frowning at the smudged dirt on the heel of his right shoe before he slips them on. “Can you wait outside? I’m gonna change.”

-

You looked breathtaking.

Embellished in a simple dress that stopped just above your knees, a pair of high-cut canvas sneakers that needed a bit of washing; a jubilant vogue that beguiles him, lifting him off his jittery fee. Your adroit hands accoutred in rings with lilliputian gems, warped around your dexterous fingers in delicate silver wires. And your hair, free from all its restraint, flowing down your shoulders. 

Driving to Fred’s house, you looked like a bright star found in the darkness of Eddie’s van. Sat on his seat, listening to all his metal mixtapes and headbanging to the songs you found endearing. His heart quivers whenever you awe at mixtapes you find in the back of his car. 

You were beautiful.

Covet reigns his cynical heart; he yearns to touch you. Wrapping his arm around your waist, holding your hand, or taking your face into his palms and telling you all the things that’ll make you smile. He wants to fortify you from all the savage things that ought to hurt you; Eddie yearns to proclaim his devotion into a dulcet whisper until he feels the rapidness of your heartbeat that thumps against his. 

But confusion regnants. He doesn’t know why he feels this way for a friend who simply knocked the wind out of him by wearing a simple dress. Then again, he thinks if it were any other person, they’d feel the same way. It’s you. You and your kind, shy, delicate heart that he wants to keep.

You, that he’s also lost.

It has been an hour since you guys have arrived. Maybe more than an hour. Eddie doesn’t know, but when he glances at his watch, it’d already been eleven in the evening. He wasn’t fond of parties but when it came to you and anything related to your happiness, he’d tolerate it. And for the first time in his life, in a house full of alcohol, he’s still sober. For your sake.

You told him you’d go to the bathroom, and he waited at some couch, stuck between two very drunk people who made out and completely forgot that they’re sitting right next to Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson. But, in all honesty, it felt nice not having someone run away as soon as they saw him. 

But when twenty minutes pass, where he debates on fetching you in case something happened, or thought maybe you were taking a shit, he ultimately decides to search for you. 

Foreigner guides him between the sweaty limbs of drunk teens and students who’ve already graduated high school but remained in Hawkins (aka Steve Harrington. He saw a glimpse of his voluptuous hair towering over the crowd). 

“I wanna know where (y/n) is,” he sings subconsciously. “I want you to show me,”

And then, he sees you. In a situation that proves his nagging thoughts right.

Standing against the wall is a drunk you. And lo and behold, Steve Harrington peers over you with a flushed face that spreads up to his neck, shirt unbuttoned like he’s seducing you with the jungle on his chest. Eddie feels the bottom of his stomach twist uncomfortably, a twinge of jealousy floating within the acids inside. 

He pushes the people away, as gently as he could, making his way toward you. 

“I know— Eddie!” you gasp, pushing away from the wall. You open your arms and fall against him, wrapping your limbs around his torso tightly so that it makes him just as shocked as Steve was. “Where have you been?”

“I was waiting,” a hand massages your forearm, the other resting cautiously on your back. “You said that I stay there.”

“Have you met Steve?” Eddie smiles tightly at him. He tries to hide his disappointment when you uncurl an arm from him. 

“Yeah, I met him,” he says softly. “Dustin kept on talking about him.”

Steve’s eyebrows raise in bewilderment. “Uh- yeah. Nice seeing you again, man.” he nods his head at him. “Haven’t seen you since I left highschool,”

“Kinda surprised you’re still here,”

He narrows his eyes at Eddie. “I could say the same,” Steve runs his hand through his hair, shifting all his weight on his left leg. “Didn’t you repeat high school?”

You gasp beneath Eddie, turning your head at him. “You repeated high school?”

“Didn’t I tell you that?”

“Yeah but I forgot,” you rub your nose with the side of your finger. “I’m sorry. That must have sucked.”

It used to. Until you came back. 

Eddie’s mouth parts, but all that could come out was. “Wanna go back home?”

“I haven’t peed yet,”

“You’ve been talking to Steve for twenty minutes?” he exclaims his disdain over this fact, tightening his arm around you without even realizing it. “Alright, I’m taking you up to the bathroom,”

“Hey hey hey,” Steve reaches out to grasp Eddie’s elbow, clumsily but tight as he can see the drunken gloss in his eyes. “Where’d you think you’re going?”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said?”

“Oh I heard it loud and clear,” he scoffs. “You’re not taking a drunk girl to the toilet, Munson.”

Eddie turns, hiding you behind him and lets you pick on the loose thread of his vest. “And what do you expect me to do? Let her piss herself in here?” he wonders wherever Steve found the nerve to act all protective over you. “Sending her up there alone is more dangerous, Harrington.”

“And you think I’ll let you take her up there?”

“Hey, excuse me,” with your hands around Eddie’s torso, you spin, your cheek right on the DIO print of his vest. “If you’re thinking that Eddie would take advantage of me, h’wont. You don’t know him. He- he won’t do what you’re thinking,” you narrow your eyes at him. “You know, if you people would just take the time to get to know him, you’d know that he’s not a freak. Or that he’d sacrifice me to the devil, or some shit. He’s a really nice person and you’re just—judgemental morons. And I really need to fucking pee.”

Your sweet mien is stripped off. An austere look makes Steve stumble back, face flushed in embarrassment than inebriation. He sputters out an apology, his eyes sobering in genuity. But surprisingly, he apologizes to Eddie. “I’m just drunk. I know it’s not an excuse but… she’s my friend.”

Still, with your words that left his heart unveiling and pounding like a fast drum bass, Eddie nods his head at him in slight forgiveness. “I get it, man. No hard feelings.”

(But he still is jealous that Henderson liked him more.)

Eddie takes you into his arms, smiles reassuringly at you as he pushes your hair out of your face, and leads you up to the nearest bathroom.

Lamented and assured

To the lights and towns below

Faster than the speed of sound

Faster than we thought we'd go

Beneath the sound of hope

Eddie Munson had only been in love once.

But maybe he’s wrong.

You sit patiently in the passenger seat, swaying to a Barry Manilow mixtape you found in Fred’s house that Eddie didn’t stop you from taking. He watches you from inside the convenience store, the beep of the scanner faint as well as the jingle of coins.

He bids a quiet goodbye to the cashier and pockets his change, holding two water bottles in his hand, sauntering to his vibrating van, and hopping in with ease.

Your eyes snap open, wide in its demiurgic inebriation. Eddie shuts the car door, placing his bottle on the cup holder in front of the gear shift so he could open yours to save you the struggle before he hands it to you. “Sober up, princess,”

Although half-drunk, you manage to swallow his sobriquet and flush. Princess. Babe. Mandy. What’s next? Love of my life?

God, I kinda hope so.

Eddie’s got his eyes on you, searching for any signs of struggle as you open the bottle with a small grunt before you bring the plastic up to your lips, swallowing heavily. Your eyes flutter shut, eyelashes caressing the gentle skin of your cheeks as you moan.

“Shit,” you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “What’s in the water?”

“Special K,” he jokes, opening his own. “You sober yet?”

“I can physically feel it-” you gesture your hands to yourself, waving it in a downward motion as you swallow the thick saliva on the edge of your tongue. “-disappear. I can feel it go down to my bladder.”

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he faces the steering wheel and twists the key in the ignition. “Just make sure you don’t have to pee yet. I’m gonna take you somewhere,”

You screw the cap back on, tugging on the ends of your dress as solemn curiosity makes you look up at him through your eyelashes. “Ooh. Where ya takin’ me, Eds?”

“It’s a surprise,” he pulls out of the parking lot, watching carefully from the rearview mirror with his eyes squinted. “I take Dustin up there every morning to talk to his girlfriend. But there’s a special spot I’m taking you.”

“Dustin has a girlfriend?” you gasp. “I always thought he made that up,”

“Oh, but she’s very real,” 

Tucking the bottle beneath your chin, you wriggle your brows at him with a skittish look. It enamors him, and it can’t stop him from turning his head at you and smiling softly. He wishes this would last — a fortuitous moment of abundant reposefulness, in his shitty van with your presence gracing the darkness of his world. 

Your face reappears in the darkness whenever a streetlight passes by. And every spark, you grow even more beautiful despite the intoxication that drops a barbell onto your eyelids. Eddie watches the buildings disappear, replaced by old trees, huddled together beside the road that swishes and collides with the passing breeze. 

With the doo-wop music pleasing to your ears, you hum beneath your breath, hand reaching out to roll the windows down and peak your head out. The wind strokes your skin headily, but the attempt to sober you is in vain. At least, with the alcohol that’s left in your system; you're clearheaded enough to register the lyrics from the radio and Eddie’s words of carefulness. 

Unable to detach his eyes from the lengthy road, Eddie filches every moment he’d glance at you out of worry you’d get your head decapitated off a pole or anything that passes by. 

But the sight of you with your back arched against the open window, hands in the air and your hair across your tipsy face was enough to relieve his worry. Were his eyes cameras, he’d taken every picture at every blink he took and kept in his mind. Just in case he’d never see such an unfathomable sight again.

“Hey, Mandy,” he yells slightly. “Having fun there, girl?”

“Totally,” you sigh, teeth gleaming. “Are we there yet, Munson? The inside of my mouth’s getting all dry here.”

“Get back inside, then,” he glouts playfully. “We’re almost there, babe.”

He’s getting really fucking comfortable with those petnames, now. 

You slither yourself back inside, slumping on his chair, your dress ridden up to your thighs. Eddie blushes from his face to his chest, snapping his eyes back on the road as you squirm on your seat, tugging on the ends until you’ve settled properly and rose the window up halfway. 

He tugs on the collar of his Paranoid shirt, a stark contrast to his exposed, opalescent skin. “You had fun poking your head out the window?” he cocks a brow. “Or do you still wanna go chase the cars that pass by thinkin’ they’re treats?”

“Dick,” you kick his shin, dirt smudging on his blue jeans. 

Eddie stops beside a broken fence, the vibration of his van coming to a halt when he twists the keys from the ignition and pulls it off. You blindly open the car door much to his dismay, and hop off with bleary feet. He does the same, shuts the door the same time you did and watches you cross over the van until you stand in front of him.

But you look at the hills, high and dark; its luscious green grass unseen by the darkness. He watches your jaw relax and your blinks decelerate. 

“We’re gonna walk up there?” you say smally, fiddling with your rings. 

“You don’t wanna?” his left eye narrows, a small pout coming up to draw itself on his face. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna. I can try to drive my car up the hill. Unless you also don’t wanna climb up the hill then I can just take you wherever you wanna go.”

You shake your head, tugging on his leather bracelet, hooking your finger around the ornament and crossing the shattered fence. “I can do it. I’m—I’m sober enough. I think I just have to remove my shoes. Hold on,”

He crosses the fence first, planting his feet on the ground as you use him as leverage. You balance yourself on one foot, pulling on the laces of your shoes and pulling it until he sees your socks—blue covered in black bats. Eddie takes your shoe as you do the same to the other, until he’s got your high-cuts in one hand, and the other being pulled by you.

Everything was untroubled. Laughs shared when he trips and scrapes his bare knee on the uncut grass; your socks darkened by the damp soil, his white Reeboks the same. And Eddie matches your heavy huffs, the remaining energy on his body on his legs that continue to lift him up the hill.

When you reach the top, you half-yell in relief, bending with your hands on your knees. Eddie sets your shoes down, letting himself fall on his ass. Once you’ve obtained your spent breath, you plop down beside him. 

“Holy shit,” you press your hands on the earth below, shifting to rest on your knees. “Eds, we can see Hawkins from here,”

You see the lights that brighten up the town. The miniscule homes of the village from across,  the burnt Starcourt mall, the sirens that lead its way to the Hospital and the variegated radiance from the arcade. You gawp silently.

“Exactly why I took you up here,” he tugs down on your dress when the wind blows it up, keeping his eyes at your face. “And if you look very closely, or if you have the eyes of an owl, you can see the trailer park.”

He laughs amusingly when you squint your eyes. Eddie knows if he can’t see it, so can’t you. But you try, nonetheless. 

“I don’t see it,” you lament, sitting back down beside him. Eddie tries to ignore the weight you rest on his arm; the pinky that grazes his behind your backs for anchor, and how your bare legs graze his jeans but despite the covering, he can feel the heat radiating off your body. 

“You’ll see it better when the sun’s up,” he leans on his right arm, shoulder bumping yours when he reaches for his Lucky Strike pack. Eddie flips it open, his small lighter lodged to the side of his cigarettes. You peer over, chin on his shoulder. He pulls out one, sticking it between his middle and index before he uses his thumb to pull his lighter out. 

Then he looks at you, nose beside yours with the minimal proximity. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“No,” you say. “My dad smokes. The dad who adopted me, I mean.”

“I know,” he smiles before he sticks the cigarette between his lips. He shoves his pack back on his pocket, sitting back down. “Do you smoke?”

The question was muffled through a lisp, but was still understandable. “Haven’t tried,” you answer. “But I almost did. It was weed, actually, that shit you sell? When I came back during summer, Steve picked me up and he asked me if I wanted to get high,”

“Really?” The cigar bobs when he speaks, the hand that cups over lowers slightly, his thumb stopping on the sparkwheel. “How long have you and Harrington been friends?”

He finally lights it up, the white paper burning into a crisp orange until smoke begins to vent. “Since middle school. Met him after my parents adopted me from my foster care. They took me to Hawkins, our house was near his, and we were invited to dinner by Steve’s parents when they were still present in his life.”

A burning jealousy on the pit of his stomach, ignited not by the lighter. “Were you good friends?”

“I’d like to think we were,” you tilt your head back and look at him. Eddie feels your pinky tap his, which he taps back. “When his parents started going on business trips, and mine were…well, working in Hawkins, Steve and I hung out in either his bedroom or mine,” you smile at him. “But, we rarely talked when I left for New York. It was a phone call every three months. And then he picked us up at the airport,” 

He lets the smoke leave the corner of his lips, on the other side where you weren’t. “Did he, uh, tell you all that shit about Henderson and Wheeler?”

“Through the phone. It’s kind of crazy,” his heart flutters at your light smile. “You know, I’m not sure if I should tell you this shit or not, but he told me about this whole thing about- monsters, and all that crap. Demogorgons, demodogs, the Upside Down. The Mind Flayer-”

“What, like DnD?” Eddie snorts. “Maybe the little shrimp talked to him about it, who knows,”

“I mean, he was half-drunk when he told me,” your lips purse. “Either he played DnD, or he dreamt about it. I mean, I asked Nancy about the Starcourt fire but she wouldn’t tell me anything!”

Eddie takes another puff, a long one that reaches his lungs. “‘M pretty sure he was just stoned,”

“What about you?” he sees you observe the cigarette, but he’s sure you’d been looking at his hands first and his dimly lit rings. “How’d you know him?”

He taps his finger on the rod, chunks falling down on the grass on the minimal space between your legs. “High school,” his lips twist into a frown. “I had my first senior year with him. And- uh, he was a douchebag. King Steve,” Eddie nods his head, a sardonic smile offered to you. “And when Henderson came and said that he was awesome, kept on insisting, actually, it was hard to believe.”

“Did he ever, uh,”

“Call me a freak?” he finishes. “Once. Twice. Dunno. We crossed paths but never really met, I guess. We knew we existed in each other’s lives but we never really acknowledged. He was too gung ho on Nancy Wheeler,”

You chortle, a plain snort leaving you that renders him amused. “Oh, God. Nancy. D’you know Steve wouldn’t stop talking about her whenever he called me.”

“You ever get jealous?”

He hopes you say no. Never did. He’s my friend. Only ever liked him as a friend. I don’t like his hair, I don’t like his smug smile. Eddie doesn’t care if it deems him jealous. But there’s nothing bad in hoping, right?

“No,” you ponder for a bit. “Maybe,”

His heart sinks.

“Only because I wished someone talked about me the way he did to Nancy,” a pensive gloss covers your irises, lit by the vibrant colors of the town upon your grazing knees and swaying feet. “He sounded so in love. And I always thought about how she would feel if she knew someone talked about her like that.”

He sighs. “You never know,”

You think he’s in thought, with the way his shoulder presses against yours absentmindedly and the silence that’s drawn out from his peart mien. 

“I had this dream when I was a kid,” you whisper. “That I was the greatest pianist in the world. I was singing with Billy Joel and—everybody knew who I was,” Eddie smiles. “And, ever since that dream, I’ve taught myself how to be one of the greatest pianists in the World,”

You exert amenity towards him when he laughs bemusingly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” your eyebrows furrow for a split second. 

A sudden memory climbs its way to his head. “Do you remember back in middle school? We, uh, hung out a lot after the talent show. And- and all we did was play music,” He says it with slight uncertainty; he himself can barely remember all those times yet he based on a single memory. “We played this one song all the time.”

“Does Everyone Stare,” you answer. “The Police.”

“That one,” he nods his head. “Because it was the only song we knew how to play that had guitars and pianos.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you nod. “I can’t believe we forgot each other,”

“But I do remember some parts,” he takes a short hit. “You said that you wanted to marry Billy Joel, and then you kept on bragging to me how you could play Die Young like, fifty times,”

“Only the Good Die Young!” you correct him. “God, yes! I played that even when I was in Queens. My grandma loved that song.”

“I always wondered why you had a huge crush on him. He was old,”

“He was not!” you gasp.

Eddie shrugs, lips curling in amusement when a huff leaves his nose. “Yes he was! And it was a good reason for me to get jealous, too,”

Shit.

If he could, he’d ululate his stupidity into the sky and embarrass himself further because it’s already out now, isn’t it? But confirming your jealousy didn’t mean he’d harbored feelings for you, right? He could be jealous for other reasons like…

He doesn’t remember.

“Jealous?” you repeat. “You were jealous of Billy Joel because I liked him?”

“We were kids. Hell, I got jealous when Tommy H. brought his Nintendo to school. Or when Barb Holland—may she rest in peace—won class president. I get jealous all the time,” he snickers. “Don't let it get into your big head, Mandy.”

Double crossed between his lies and what you truly perceive, you shake your head mirthly. “Yeah. Okay, Munson.” you roll your eyes at him. “God I… whenever I played that song, I always imagined I was in a concert. With this… huge grand piano. I’d play for those snobby rich people, then I’d get roses thrown at me. I’d play so hard my fingers would bleed and they’d give me a standing ovation,”

Eddie smiles. “What a dream,” he looks away, chin on his neck when he looks down on his lap. “I’d be your first ever watcher. Then I’ll throw tomatoes at you and boo you off the stage,”

He looks back at you and you laugh jovially. 

The muddle of alcohol in your head almost makes you miss how his jaw clenches and his eyes soften. A solemn twinkle in his button eyes, nostrils flaring as he stares at you with the smoke on his cigarette flowing between the tangled strands of his hair. 

Suddenly nervous with his intense stare, you nod at his cigarette. “Can I-uh, try?”

Eddie blinks. “Yeah, sure.”

He offers it to you with a balk stutter on his hand. You lean over, your hand almost on his thigh as you wrap your lips around, lipstick staining the orange filter that leaves a pink coruscating shine. Brazen do you inhale, cheeks sucked in, gray smoke filling your lungs until you cough abruptly and push it away.

Smoke puffs when you cough and he laughs jubilantly. “Mandy!”

“Fuck,” your hand grasps his shoulder, the other covering your mouth. “Christ. No wonder why my dad says I shouldn’t smoke. Oh- shit. Ah.”

He pats around beside him. “We left our water in the car,”  

“Screw it. I’ll try again,” you wrap your hand around his wrist and take the cigarette in your mouth, sucking like your life had depended on it until Eddie himself has to pull it away. It’s a bit calmer this time, no coughs and only smoke. 

His palm meets the side of his hand to a mock applause. “Bravo.”

“Who taught you this?”

Eddie takes a short puff. “My old man,”

Your smile falls. “Oh, shit, sorry,”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “My…mom got mad when she found out. I was eight,” he licks his lips. “And, you know, I told myself I wouldn’t do it again. But highschool happened and before I knew it, I have a metal lunchbox full of packs and weed,”

You feel his pink shyly tap yours. “My mom used to take me up here,” Eddie continues. “Way before Dustin did and- we used to go up before the sunrise so we could watch it. When he was dead asleep,” he swallows thickly. “She’d make these sandwiches, chocolate and peanut butter, and we’d eat them while we watched the sun rise; and she’d point out all these butterflies,” he shows you his wrist where the insect lays. “And she said ‘Eddie, you must always cherish the beginning of a new day,’”

He mimics the voice of his mother in a high-pitched voice and a tone that lilts to a posh border. Eddie knows it’s not exactly her voice, but he loves a good impression.

“She sounds like an amazing person,” you whisper.

“She was,” Eddie muses, a melancholy wave that crashes on him as he lays on the undertow, helpless. “She always had this bubble of hope, even if my dad always popped it. She just kept on blowing, and smiling, and loving even though she was struggling and honestly,” he looks at you with a sad smile, “she’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met,”

Your heart breaks the slightest. But he looks at you like the brightest star he's ever found.

“She always had a bubbly personality even when everything was tough,” he sighs. “And I haven’t done this. Watching the sunrise since she, y’know, because I always slept in,”

His chuckle makes you smile breathlessly. But it had been more wistful. There’s a mosaic of maudlin rings over your eyes, on the verge of shattering. “Is that why you took me up here?”

“Kind of,” he drops his head sideways. “There’s no sunrise, though. So I hope this will suffice,” 

“I’ll take anything you give me, Munson,” you smile softly. “It makes me happy, either way,”

Finally, your pinkies hook behind you. His finger is warm, bigger than yours but bears a whit of gracious familiarity. They hook, as thick as thieves; Eddie gifts you a smile so warm and loving that makes you lean close.

“Even if my van’s all run down and loud and on the verge of burning?” his eyebrow raises. “Or I stain your reputation?”

“I don’t even have a reputation,” you laugh. “But yes. Even if you van smells like marijuana and you, like, listen to Orgasmatron for god knows how many times. I’ll accept anything,” 

I’ll accept anything.

Eddie leans close, tobacco breaths exchanged, nose bumping with yours; his eyes are low and hooded, his eyelashes that tickle his cheeks when he blinks rapidly, fearing that once he opens his eyes you’re a mist within the gray smoke. And fuck, you’re pretty.

Prettier than the barely there stars above you, prettier than the morphing clouds that entice him at seven in the morning, prettier than Sweetheart (his beloved guitar, yes); prettier than everything else, you being the center of attention, the only attraction in his terrifying world. His heart pounds like he’s fallen down the rollercoaster, and it feels gratifyingly amazing.

Your pinky clutches his tightly in a silent promise. And he vows to keep it, whatever it may be.

“Just where our bones will rest,”

Befuddled, he pulls back slightly. “What?”

“I thought of a lyric,” although disappointed, Eddie finds it in himself to smile lightly. “My heart's on a string around my neck and I stare just where our bones will rest.” you say. “Shit, Eddie, do you have a ballpen?”

“Lucky for you, I do,” he reaches for his pocket again and pulls out a blue pen with the cap covered in small indentation of bites. You frown. “Sorry. I get nervous a lot.”

“It’s okay,” you unscrew the cap. “Um, fuck,”

You unlace your pinky from his, pulling your left forearm out so you’d write the lyric just above your inner elbow, small across the skin of your forearm. 

“I could get this tattooed,” you mutter. And then you look up at him with a proud, bright smile. 

“I could do it,” his shoulders raise to a shrug. “I mean, I mostly do my own tattoos,” Eddie shows you his arms—the butterfly on his wrist, the bats on his forearm, before he pulls on the collar of his shirt and shows you The Devil. “Either I use my machine or the stick and needle,”

“Didn’t know you knew how to do tattoos,” you narrow your eyes at him. “What’s next? You can fix cars,”

He almost says yes.

You reach to touch the tattoo on his forearm in awe, delicate finger grazing his inked skin, petting the hairs on his arm. “Seriously. I’ll do it, (y/n),” he chuckles. “Just gotta tell me when,”

With your eyes gilded in delirium, you nod. And he smiles.

Eddie Munson had only been in love once. 

But he had no idea he could fall in love twice. 

-

You could remember how delicate he’d been.

Eddie had taken you back to his home. The place dark and desolate with the missing presence of his beloved uncle. He’d sat you down on his couch, apologized for how messy the place had been and that you’re getting your first tattoo at some dingy trailer. And you remember how your words succored the insecurity out of him; how he visibly deflated in relief and knelt in front of you.

Although covered in latex, his hands were warm against your arm, but it was incomparable to the spark you felt when you looped your pinky around his. 

His words had saged the pain from the stabbing needles. Constant praises that made your stomach flip; ballyhoos that made your cheeks burn as your mind swallowed them in a way that you shouldn’t— “You’re doing a great job, babe” “Taking it so well, aren’t you, Mandy?” “I know it hurts, but it’ll feel good soon,” “Good girl.”

Good girl had been the last straw. 

Eddie was doing it on purpose, right? Or your mind was just too deep into the gutter?

He’d traced the words you wrote on your inner elbow in vigilant precision. Eddie was fruitless of failure, nothing amiss in the Stygian tattoo. Which left you in awe given that he’d used a stick and needle rather than the machine hidden somewhere beneath the depths of his dusted bed. 

When he was done, he lathered your arm with ointment before covering it with plastic—cling wrap. And he drove you home with smiles painting both the canvases of your faces; the inside of his van filled with nothing but twitching hands that yearn for reconciliation, and knowing looks exchanged between the music of The Police.

You had laid on your bed with the lingering feeling of his latex touch and his bona fide scrutiny that night. A silly smile on your face when you think of Eddie Munson; the boy who’d disappeared in your life who you miraculously found again.

special thanks to: @vendettaparker, @munsonquinns, @familyvideostevie, @applcrumbl for proofreading :3

PART TWO

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED 💕

[kazelvr]

₊˚ෆˎˊ˗ let the light in

synopsis. relationship headcannons with 3 of my fav csm characters (strictly fem reader for quanxi, gender neutral reader for the rest)

cw. suggestive in quanxi’s part, im just absolutely in love with her lol, mentions of vomit in denji’s part, implied modern au in aki’s part

note. my writing may be a bit different, because i’m trying something new.. i apologize 😭. i also made this half asleep.. time check 4:11 am

denji (デンジ)

to be real, denji has no clue about healthy relationships. that’s putting it mildly, right? the only ‘relationships’ he’s had were all about manipulation and brainwashing.

but hey, he really does put in the effort for you! denji’s going to do whatever it takes to make you happy, such as going bankrupt for the sake of a gift.

despite being in a relationship, denji still feels awkward around you. his shyness towards you was evident from the beginning, and now it has only intensified. please bear with him, he’ll come around eventually!

but when he does get comfortable.. denji forms a deep emotional connection with you. he’s faced many challenges, and all he’s ever wanted is to feel loved. you have become that source of comfort to him, and that means the world.

at first, his kisses can be awkward, unsure of where to put his hands, and he might even keep this eyes open. you might need to show him how to kiss properly, which can be even harder if he’s your first kiss.

he always craves cuddles, day in and out. he’s a true cuddlebug. he likes feeling the steady rhythm of your breath against his skin. whether if he’s the little spoon, or the big spoon, his sole desire is to sleep while being in physical contact with you. he finds it impossible to sleep without you.

on those days when you’re super busy and can’t cuddle with him, denji gets all pouty. it’s quite dramatic, really, how he gives you the side eye and ignores you when you try to talk about it. but, he can’t stay mad at you forever. eventually, he’ll give in and cling onto you like a koala. he’s not letting go, by the way.

he is keeping you away from power at all costs, even if you two are friends. if she ever found out that denji has a partner, she will not leave him alone. power will definitely embarrass denji in front of you, telling you about all of his flaws while he tries to stop her from saying anything else… he was never able to stop her.

on your birthday, aki attempted to assist denji in preparing a meal for you. unfortunately, it was a complete disaster and the food turned out to be unappetizing… despite aki’s desperate attempts to persuade denji not to serve you his charred creation, denji, being denji, stubbornly refused to listen. when you took a bite, the taste was so revolting that your stomach couldn’t bear it any longer. you regurgitated the ill fated meal… it’s the thought that counts, right?

overall, he’s trying really hard to be a good boyfriend, please appreciate him.

aki hayakawa (早川アキ)

this man…. phewww…

aki is the epitome of a respectful boyfriend, always seeking your consent before engaging in any action, be it a simple kiss or a gentle touch.

if you happen to be someone who tends to be disorganized and messy, rest assured aki will gladly take on the responsibility of tidying up after you. regardless of the severity of the mess, simply tell him, and he will promptly begin cleaning it up, without any judgement.

bathing together has become a regular routine for the both of you, a frequent occurrence that follows a long day of hunting devils. aki, in particular, finds comfort in sharing these type of moments with you. the soothing warmth of the bathwater coupled with the gentle sensation of your hands massaging shampoo into his hair, while he rests against your chest, brings him a new profound sense of relaxation. it’s not always about being sexual, but rather the feeling of closeness with you that brings him a sense of tranquility.

aki is like a dad sending text messages. when he’s not around, he would text you to ask if you need anything from the store. when he receives your response, he replies back with a simple “👍” emoji. that’s it.

aki is all about being the big spoon— it’s just who he is. aki has experienced too much loss and he can’t bear the thought of losing you. he holds you tightly in his grasp, afraid that if he loosens his grip, he’ll lose you, even though that would never be the case. your presence alone brings him a sense of security, and all he wants is for you to be safe.

every morning, this man never leaves for work without giving you a gentle kiss, even if you’re still groggy. you’re the sole reason he can maintain his sanity while battling devils all day.

to aki, you’re like his home, his safe space. you are the one he can confide in, and shed tears without any guilt, and that is one of the many reasons why he loves you.

aki is tall, standing at 190cm (6’2). every time you talk to him, he lowers himself to your level so he can hear you more clearly. sometimes, you think he’s doing it to make fun of you, but in reality, he just wants to be close to you.

aki has a reputation for being aloof, but in reality, he is the complete opposite. he’s a dork. a dork who can’t help but smile whenever your name comes up, a dork who finds himself captivated by your every feature, analyzing them with great interest. a dork who’s madly in love.

quanxi (クァンシ)

quanxi has a deep admiration for her girls’ body, and it’s no secret - especially to you, who has personally felt her touch. every inch of your body is your favorite, from the curves of your breasts to the softness of your thighs. she revels in worshiping every aspect of you, leaving you feeling loved.

when someone utters even the slightest offensive remark towards you, quanxi’s protective remarks kick in, particularly if it comes from a man. she wholeheartedly defends you, regardless of whether you were in the wrong (gotta stand up for your girls), she becomes so defensive she almost resorts to physical confrontation, refusing to let anyone disrespect under her watch.

quanxi’s touch is ever-present. usually, it’s her hand on your waist in public, marking you as hers. behind closed doors, she explores every inch of you. it makes you wonder if she’s a different person outside of the public eye. but, who’s complaining?

i like to think that when quanxi gets drunk, she gets awfully needy and with you. she enjoys holding onto your arm and leaning against you, gently nibbling your ear, while softly expressing slurred compliments about your beauty.

quanxi is your ultimate protector, in every sense of the word. facing a menacing devil? before you can even blink, quanxi is by your side, fearlessly slaying the creature. your girlfriend takes pride in being your number one protecter, regardless of your strength.

making out sessions happen 90% of the time you two are together. quanxi simply can’t resist when you give her that irresistible look, with your lips appearing soft and pouted!

titty lover

[captainwans]

she looks absolutely gorgeous…and he’s there! (smau)

arabella series!

masterlist!

pairing: alex turner x fem! actress reader

summary: the media and fans are taking a liking to y/n being apart of alex’s life, but there’s also a downside when your relationship gets public and having to deal with haters and nasty comments.

timeline: 2014

note: this format / layout is heavily inspired by my love @ithinkimokeei 🩶

Liked by elizabetholsenofficial, imsebastianstan and others

yourinstagram a little breakie 🍸✨ (feat. cindy’s legs)

 ㅤ View all the comments

username she’s so fine bro

username ok but let’s talk about the dress 😍

username i would bark for her if she asked me 🐕

elizabetholsenofficial cindy those LEGS 😩

iamcindy damn liz i’m married 😪

username lmao cindy

username she’s so real tho

username how many letters in y/n y/l/n

username gorgeous woman ❤️

username she’s literally so wife hello??

mileskane why did you tag cindy and not me 🙄 i took those photos 😒

iamcindy bc i’m her best friend and she prioritizes me before anyone else duh

mileskane oh really? she didn’t say that last night

matthelders i can already smell a fight coming through mileskane iamcindy

iamcindy yourinstagram you cheater

mileskane iamcindy *you’re a cheater wtf 😭

yourinstagram what i can’t have both of you as my besties? 🙃

iamcindy no ❤️

mileskane no ❤️

 ㅤ yourinstagram just tagged mileskane in her photo

mileskane thank you love 😘

username the heart im dead 😭😭

username NOT THE HEART IM—

username istg her comment section is like watching an episode of the office

username i love mindy!! fav couple

iamcindy ew they have a ship name for us mileskane see what you did idiot

mileskane i didn’t even do anything???

username it’s so funny how they interact like they haven’t been married for 7 years pls

username this is so funny im crying

username cindy 😭😭😭😂😂

breanahelders you two need to log off insta and touch some grass or smth

katiee_cook_ leave y/ns comment section iamcindy and mileskane

iamcindy ok mom and dad 🙄🙄

Liked by sabrinacarpenter, breanahelders and others

yourinstagram about last night 🖤 🚬#leedsfestival2014 arcticmonkeys

 ㅤ yourinstagram has tagged katiee_cook, breanahelders and iamcindy

 ㅤ View all the comments

username y/n y/l/n is so arctic monkeys coded

 ㅤ Liked by 23,6k users

username you can’t see it but i’m the smoke

username katie is so pretty oh my godd

elizabetholsenofficial how did you manage to make time to fly to leeds i’m here stuck inside my trailer 😭

yourinstagram i didn’t really plan on going lol i acted on impulse

robertdowneyjr breaking the rules y/n? 👀

cobiesmulders ^ bc you missed your man just say that y/n 😉

yourinstagram cobiesmulders yes that’s true 😩

yourinstagram pls don’t tell joss robertdowneyjr

username she got her prioritizes straight i mean if alex was my man i would do the same

marvel i’m snitching.

yourinstagram marvel which side are you on? 🙄

username NOT MARVEL COMMENTING

username breana looks so fine 🥵

mileskane you’re gonna give alex a heart attack if you keep showing up unannounced

yourinstagram i already did when he saw me in the crowd 😘

iamcindy memorable i actually got that on camera you should’ve seen his face what a fucking simp <3

yourfriend ^! went from 😲😯 to 😄😉😘

username yourfriend and what a coincidence when he was just about to sing arabella

 ㅤ Liked by yourinstagram, iamcindy and yourfriend

username i remember that omg it was so cute!! and the camera even showed y/ns reaction in the crowd

username pls they’re so in love it makes me cry i want what they have 😩😩

username the first pic is doing smth to me 😩

username y/n you will always be famous

breanahelders best night ever ❤️

katiee_cook_ j unforgettable 😍

iamcindy had the best night ever babe 😙

yourinstagram breanahelders katiee_cook_ iamcindy my girls 💕💘💖

yoursister i need some context on the last picture are y’all okay?

katiee_cook_ there was a bunch of paps outside and wanted a picture and y/n being y/n decided to pose by leaning against the window upside down

breanahelders you can literally see alex having a stroke while holding her for dear life 😂

username help- why did jamie pull out his guitar 😭😭

Liked by yoursister, zendaya and others

yourinstagram fashion week never disappoints ✨

 ㅤ View all the comments

username forget alex i want HER 😩

username i love her new stylist!! the outfits fits her perfectly compared to her last stylist

username the woman you are y/n 🔥😍

iamcindy hey hottie ;)

mileskane you’re married remember :)

iamcindy you’re such a cockblocker🖕🏻

username not me always scrolling into y/ns comment section to see a mindy interaction

alexachung looking STUNNING my love ❤️

yourinstagram thank you beautiful 😘

username did i just miss a chapter?

username um that’s not—

username i didn’t know they were friends??

username i don’t think so they have briefly interacted on fashion shows and they were seen taking pictures and sitting beside each other

username that must be so awkward for alex having your gf and your ex sitting beside each other yikes

username username right they looked like they didn’t wanna sit beside each other did you see y/n’s face

username username even if they are that’s none of your business leave alex out of this

username i don’t see y/n and alex’s relationship to last long he’s clearly still in love with alexa and it’s just embarrassing for y/n really

username i miss alexa and alex they were a better couple and y/n is just using him for more fame and attention that whore

username y’all love to pit women against each other and change the narrative! first of all if you were at the fashion show you know that they weren’t sitting beside each other. it was literally two people sitting between them so they didn’t even interact at all (1)

username (2) and second of all mind you that they were grouped together and shared their interest with the designer which is why they took pictures. they looked pretty happy and smiley to me!

pinned comment 📌 yourinstagram the amount of hate in the comments makes me want to puke. if you don’t have anything nice to say keep it to yourself and spread the negative energy elsewhere. ❤️

 ㅤ Liked by 239k users

 ㅤ Liked by alexachung

iamcindy babe you’re too chill about this if i were you i would send hate letters to every single person.

username shajsjsj cindy

username i’m actually so scared of her i’m not even joking 😭

username i know not to mess with her damn

[kumezyzo]

streamer!gf is also a good idea i’d love to read

again, with this one, its mostly just for me [and this amazingly supportive anonymous] but i still felt like writing it. (although it took me three hours to come up with ideas that made sense lol) i also think this ones kinda ass in comparison to the others.... sorry.

but yea, this is streamer!gf that i tried to make gender neutral until the very end really.... enjoy! or dont.... :) m.list

bf!sapnap who most likely knew you from the SMP before you started dating. and only recently when he realized how much he liked you, did he start trying to pursue the relationship (which was maybe over a year and a half ago)

bf!sapnap who agreed with you to not say anything about the relationship for a few months just to let it sit and see where you guys lead

when you do finally announce it, its because you guys notice a genuince shift in the relationship where you can tell its getting more serious.

bf!sapnap who shyly brings up the idea of doing a relationship q&a on your channel after the announcement (that was also on your channel)

during the video, hes very clearly all over you, hugging you and leaning against you. your fans think its absolutely adorable how much of a simp he is.

in the middle of that video theres a moment when you two look at eachother after answering a question and it cuts to you two giggling and looking away from eachother. sapnap with a very clear blush and wide grin on his face mostly because you guys took a break to just kiss eachother which accidentally went on longer than expected

bf!sapnap who didnt realize how many people were already shipping you two when he called you the honourary dream team member once a few years ago

bf!sapnap that gets edits of you (sometimes you and him) during TNTL streams and just on his timelines and tries his hardest to not act flustered although he clearly has that glint in his eye

bf!sapnap who manages to come into your room during the most inconvenient times during your streams. ie. when youre actively and/or loudly simping over an actor in your fav movie or show.

you just freeze mid sentence, mid gesture, and stare at him as he steps into the room. he stares back and peeks his head into the frame and your chat proceeds to spam 'LMAOOOOO's

"can i help you....?"

".....so who were you yelling about-"

"Oh my- GET OUT😭!"

bf!sapnap who will very openly brag about dating you and just talk about dating you (he just wants people to know youre taken🤭)

"well im dating y/n"

"how does that have anything to do with vidcon-"

bf!sapnap who gets teased for not being as good of a gamer as you. and not having as many followers (because youre def. very popular) (i also imagine this next convo with george and dream laughing the entire time)

"sapnap, how does it feel having a girlfriend thats better at minecraft than you?"

"george, shut up."

"sapnap, hes not wrong. and doesnt she have more subscribers?"

"im literally never doing a manhunt again then."

"good, then we'll just have your girlfriend replace you"

bf!sapnap who jokingly suggests yout two starting an onlyfans where he posts videos of you two fucking (but he secretly really wants to). cause he has a whole album of pictures and videos of you two that he would be willing to post (if people pay for it obvi)

again, gimme suggestions and stuff. and show support for my sanity lol -Nony

[dearest-painter]

AHHHH YANDERE AND BULLY 2 OF MY FAV THINGS

can i request yan gray with a darling thats in a gang or they a big himbo (gender is up to you)

it ok if not lol and sry for bad spelling

Omfg yes I can!!! Also your spelling is good!! If you have any more ideas Anon please tell me!!!

Yandere Gary with a Himbo!Male!Reader

Summary:Everyone is in denial of Gary actually being in love with the school’s himbo. They don’t believe Y/N is good for him yet Y/N’s little head is filled with thoughts that Gary fills his head up with to make sure their together.

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,Gary himself,Gary being a manipulative piece of shit,mentions of Gary giving Reader hickeys to show reader is his,Gary loves Reader in his own odd way even if it seems like he sees him like an object because he does,Homophobia is mentioned but I do not share the same ideology with that,Threatening,tell me if I need to ass anything more

-Gary saw you with the cheerleaders. The cheerleaders used you as a mannequin for makeup and he was very interested it by it so he waited when you were alone

-He originally made fun of you but the way you didn’t understand he was making fun of you made him think you were stupid which he is right!

-He stuck around you for fun but he didn’t like when people would touch you,talk to you,gift you stuff,or even joke that they were dating you! He got pissed off and Jimmy called him out for liking you.

-He knew he had to manipulate you so he can date you,he also made sure to slowly isolate you. You believed him when he said ‘Everyone just wants to use you but I don’t,you can trust me. I’ll protect you from their dark desires’ or ‘I’ll always be here with you unlike most people. So just stay by me and listen to me and you’ll be safe’ or ‘Your lucky to have me around,if I wasn’t around you,you’d be taken advantage of and used so be happy that I’m even around you!’

-When he finally knew you were mentally vulnerable he confessed. It was out the blue as he didn’t have this grand idea he just asked if you wanted to be his boyfriend. With all the stuff he’s said you said yes as he’s the only person who loves you…right?

-He made sure you two had all the same classes so he can help his stupid boyfriend. “Without me you’d be failing all your class! Aren’t you lucky to have me with you at all times?” “Mhm! Thank you hun! You really help me a lot!”

-You are big into pet names but he barely uses them unless it’s in private or ‘My man’ and that’s all. In private he calls you many pet names that are sweet but also insulting as it’s Gary

-He’s self aware and sadistic but wouldn’t really harm you. He’d only harshly grip your face but you think it’s just fun in games!

-He gives you love bites and hickeys to make sure people know your his,he has his own of course because he does ask you to give him some so that people know you two are a happy couple!

-Jimmy and Petey feel bad because they know your to stupid to know that Gary is toxic.

-Gary threatens people and also attacks people who tries to take you from him. He is very possessive and when you ask why you hurt them all he says is “They wanted to take you away from me and hurt you! I love you to much and wouldn’t allow them to do so!” Which in your eyes is pretty romantic.

-People make homophobic remarks at you two but since your two stupid to understand their being mean Gary puts them in their place.

-Cuddles happen a lot in private,he’s the big spoon but if he’s been extra pissed off and more jealous he’s the little spoon. Don’t you dare tell anyone you two cuddle because he doesn’t want anyone to know

-Overall Gary is an insane piece of shit who loves you in his very twisted and unhealthy ways while making sure you two will get marry.

[lowkeyremi]

Hey there! was looking through your stuff and realized you’ve never written about Iida before. So guess what? IM gonna be the change…

Could you possibly write a scenario of Iida going through the motions of proposing to the reader? How he’s super meticulous and everything has to go according to plan to where things just…don’t? lol.

But things work out anyways because of course it’s Tenya Iida.

You can do gender neutral or fem, I really don’t care. Thanks!

— lovelyiida ❤︎︎

Perfection t. iida x gn!reader

remi's note: hiiiii!!! i do need to branch out on who i write about don't i? lolll anyway i was super happy to see you requested. you're one of my fav writers on here and it's an honor to write for u!! this is such a cute idea too bc he's def an over thinker and needs everything to go 100% his way. also. wow. this was wayyyy longer than i intended for it to be <3

cw: fluff, slight angst in the beginning, things don't quite go as planned, tenya goes to his big bro for advice, silliness, a little bit of swearing.

He's tense of course, sitting in his office as the time ticks by. He wants to call his brother just one more time but he knows exactly what he's going to say, "Tenya, you're stressing this too much, they're going to say yes." Which is not what he wants to hear. He needs an absolute fool proof plan and then some.

As he's sitting there thinking his secretary walks in, she looks tired and Tenya pities making her stay a little after her shift finished. "Sir, don't you think it's about time for you to head out? I don't mean to intrude but your partner did get off of work about two hours ago, correct?" She asks looking at her watch.

Two hours? He looks back at the clock. His stomach drops automatically, you must be worried about him. Tenya's never more than an hour late from work, except on nights he tells you he'll be working late.

"Oh my, I suppose I should get home.. I didn't realize how much time has passed by." Truth is, he's not ready to go home. There are already about twenty five different failed scenarios he can think of at the top of his head.

The secretary notices this and she gives him a soft smile, "I'm sure they'll say yes, sir. You guys have been together for six years now and for as long as I've worked for you I haven't seen your partner's love waver." He should be comforted by her words but he's too caught up in his thoughts to feel any comfort.

"I can't do it tonight. I wanted to take them out for dinner and do it afterwards but it's too late tonight. I think I'll aim for this weekend." He sighs quietly. This is the 8th time he's failed to propose to you. He really has been trying, but it's so.. hard.

You're amazing in so many ways and such a kind hearted person. At the same time you can be strict and helpful. You're absolutely everything Tenya's wanted and needed in his life, so it's hard. He doesn't want to propose to you only for you to deny him.

These thoughts shouldn't consume him because he knows you love him. You've given him plenty of your firsts, and him the same. That ugly little voice in the back of his mind won't leave him alone though. It's the same voice that made him think avenging his brother for Stain's wrong doing was okay. The same voice that told him it was okay to dress up as a civilian in order to save Bakugo. The same voice that gets him into so much trouble.

"Good night, Ms. Suzuki." He says waving in her direction as he packs every thing in his brief case.

"Good night, Sir, you've got this." She says, and he sucks in a breath as her heels click away from his office.

Does he have this?

He doesn't remember much, doesn't even remember driving home. Yet here he is unlocking the door. Upon opening it he can see the soft glow of the TV in the living room. The smell of take out reaches his nose and he immediately relaxes.

"I'm home, baby." He says loud enough for you to hear. His eyes soften as you jump up off the couch to greet him.

"And where were you at mister?" There's a smirk covering your face and he opens his arms to embrace you in a hug.

"Work," he sighs before continuing, "I didn't notice the time until Ms. Suzuki mentioned it." He hears you click your tongue. He feels so at home with your arms wrapped around his neck.

"If you keep overworking that poor lady she might just quit." He smiles at your lecture.

"I know, I know. Tell me about your day? I'm not feeling too good." He says quietly.

"Sick?" You ask checking his forehead. He shakes his head 'no'.

"I just feel like shit right now." He slumps slightly. Your eyes soften and you lead him to the table for some dinner.

He listens to you talk about your promotion and how one of your co workers pulled you aside to tell you that you did not deserve your new position.

"Congratulations, my dear. I wish I could have bought you some flowers. I didn't receive your messages, because I had my personal phone off today. Also don't take their word to heart, they're just jealous of you." He picks up some noodles with his chopsticks.

"It's nothing to worry about Tenya, I promise. Also I know they were jealous but it's still hard to ignore. What about you? How was your day?" He wants to tell you, he really does. He wants to tell you about how much he's struggled to propose to you these last few weeks but he doesn't.

"Nothing really interesting happened today, just the usual." You can tell there's something he's not telling you but instead of prying you nod your head. If he wants to tell you he will.

It's been about four days since then and Tenya is sitting in his brother's home holding his nephew.

"Uncle Tenya?" The small child asks.

"Yes, Hachiro?" He looks just like his mother Tenya thinks. The only feature the little boy did get from Tensei was his red eyes.

"When will you marry [name]? I want a cousin." Tenya's first question is does he know how kids are made?

"Well, um. I'm not sure. I haven't asked them yet. What do you mean you want a cousin?" He asks the child to elaborate.

"Well I mean my mommy and daddy had me somehow so you and [name] can get me a cousin, right? I want someone to play with." He sounds sincere and it makes his heart tug a little bit. Hachiro is absolutely adorable.

"Don't bother your uncle with such questions, your friend is here for your playdate." Tensei says to Hachiro who immediately hops out of Tenya's lap to run down the stairs where his mother and best friend await him.

"That kid, he's something alright." Tensei chuckles sitting down with two cups of tea.

"Thank you for letting me come over on such short notice." Tenya's stressed because he believes tomorrow is the day he will actually ask the question.

"Of course, what's up little bro?" Tensei sips at his tea.

"I think tomorrow- tomorrow I'm going to do it. For real this time." His breathing becomes shaky and his brother's eyes light up.

"You can do it, Tenya. Let me tell you from experience, it won't be a perfect fairytale proposal but in the end it will work out. When I decided to marry Maria it was so awkward because I had to have our translator there to tell her what I was saying. Since then, I've been learning english. She loves to look back and laugh at our engagement though." He says with a smile.

Tenya thinks to the day his brother called him and told him that he asked Maria to marry him. Tenya asked him if he learned the phrase in english to which he responded with "um... our translator was there to tell her what I was saying and vice versa." He thought it was the silliest thing he'd ever heard.

"Basically my proposal can't be worse than yours?" Tenya asks with a smirk to which is brother playfully punches his shoulder.

"That is not what I said you little brat." The two break into laughter and Tenya feels much lighter.

"I've got to go get things set up." He responds standing up. His brother also stands up and the two hug each other.

"Call me and tell me how it goes afterward!" He nods and on the way out he tells his nephew and sister in law goodbye.

You were still at work by the time Tenya got home. He calls your favorite restaurant. In order to ask of a special request. He knows they don't do reservations but he wants to know if he can make an exception for this special moment.

"Sorry sir, we don't do reservations. It's a policy." The woman over the phone says and he's crushed.

Suddenly he has the idea to order out, "Can I call back tomorrow and place an order for pick up?"

"You most certainly can, Sir!" Her voice has no hatred just pure kindness.

"Alright, thank you. Goodbye." As soon as she says bye back to him he hangs up quickly forming a plan. He'll order your favorite food to go and set up a cute date at your favorite park, then when you're finished eating, the two of you will walk over to the water fountain you met at and he'll get down on one knee for you.

It's simple, he'd really love to go all out but he can't bear the stress of something potentially going wrong.

He hopes you'll like it.

He asked you to meet up at the park you used to frequent when you guys first started dating.

He's shaking slightly, while looking at the placement of the rose petals and candles. He'd sent a picture to his brother and Midoriya for assurance. Both told him it looked really good.

He's dressed in a blue button down and black slacks, not too fancy but not plain.

He sees you walk up to the table, a smile finds its way to your face and your eyes sparkle.

"What's all of this?" You ask. He helps you sit down on the wooden bench. You take in the beautifully set table. It's slightly windy but you don't mind.

"Um. I- i uh you know. Felt like we haven't been on a proper date in awhile so decided to set up a little something."

"Well you've out done yourself, baby. This looks so pretty." A little bit of stress is lifted off his shoulders. He's happy to hear you compliment his work.

The two of you eat your favorite food. You happen to notice another white box that sits closer to the end of the table.

"Ooooo, is that the cake I like from that place?" You ask pointing at the box. He nods quickly. His face flushes slightly when he sees you smile. It warms his heart.

"It is." You look into his red eyes trying to find the true meaning of this date, but your boyfriend is good at keeping his composure.

You won't give up much to his dismay, "This must be a very special dinner if you got me this cake." He shakes his head and shrugs.

"I promise it's nothing out of the ordinary." He calmly baits you into a different topic of some of your favorite foods which you go on about for twenty seven minutes. Yes, he was counting.

"Are you ready for cake?" He shouldn't even have to ask because he already knows the answer but he asks anyway.

"Of course I want cake! Can I cut it?" Tenya's calm demeanor drops right at that moment. He's starting to panic because he didn't bring a knife for the cake. It's only a minor inconvenience but still causes him to doubt himself.

"I'm guessing you didn't bring a knife, huh? It's alright, I'll cut it with the end of the fork!" You scooch over to grab the box, mouth watering at the thought of your favorite cake.

"You sure? I could run down to the nearest convenience store and-"

"Relax, honey, you're over thinking this. We won't die, I promise." Your words ground him. He takes deep breathes until he's calm again.

"Right. Sorry my love." The disappointment on his face causes you to frown.

"Aw come on, don't apologize. I promise it's fine." You cup his chin with your free hand and he leans into the touch with a small smile.

"Are we walking to the fountain? I'm stuffed, I don't wanna walk too far." He nods at your question. He's smiling like a teenaged boy and you're wondering what he's up too.

With your hands intertwined and the cool wind hitting your face, you feel content. There's no place on earth you'd rather be than right here.

The beautiful fountain where you met Tenya was close in sight. You could see the lights that were placed inside of it shining brightly.

There's a small thunk that reaches your ears and you turn around thinking you might have dropped something.

When you stop to turn around, you notice a small velvety box that had fallen to the ground.. it must be Tenya's.

"Tenya, wait. You dropped something." He turns around to see what it is and when he does all the color drains from his face.

"Fuck... fuck! The one time everything needs to be perfect I fuck it up." He says cursing himself. You realize what the box is and a giddy feeling takes over.

"Tenya, please calm down. It's okay I'll pretend I didn't see it." You say closing your eyes. It makes him chuckle a little bit to see you act so innocent.

"I appreciate the effort but the surprise is ruined..." He sighs and rubs his face roughly.

"Tenyaaaa. Were you going to take me where we first met and propose?" You ask with a wobbly smile.

"Mhm." You can tell he's upset over it being "ruined" but this is about the happiest day of your life. He's so sweet and thoughtful and knowing him he's probably been stressing this for a long time.

"My poor boyfriend stressing this moment, oh come here baby." You stretch your arms out for a hug and he doesn't hesitate to hug you back.

"Yes, by the way." You whisper into his ear and he scoffs playfully.

"I can I ask the question first?" You roll your eyes the stray tears falling onto his shirt.

"[name], I can't even lie I've been stressing this moment for the past couple of weeks. Let me tell you it has NOT been easy. I've consulted to my brother and Midoriya countless times in order to ensure a perfect proposal and if I'm being honest I should have taken Tensei's advice of 'it won't be perfect' it would have saved me a lot of stress.... but, would you do the honor of marrying me, being my equal, and staying with me through any and everything?" His voice is shaky and he's blushing so hard that you want a picture to show to everyone.

"Yes! Yes I will. WOOP WOOP. He likes it so he's about to put a ring on it!!!" You yell in excitement to no one in particular.

He's crying and laughing at how silly you are.

"I don't know what I was so afraid of."

"Me either!" You agree.

[lynlmao]

Dates with quackity 🥂

cc!Quackity x f!reader hcs [SFW]

notes: NOT PROOFREAD, intentional “texting my best friends” type of grammar, excessive use of emojis..

cw: mentions of private parts but no actual sex, cursing like once

DRIVING DATES

One of his fav dates are driving anywhere and almost everywhere🤯🤯 omg wow so surprised /j

he’d spam you until you respond to him, if you say no then get ready to be spammed with “PLEASE” or an occasional voice message of him saying “babe i know you can hear your phone ringing, pls go out with meeee-“

erm who wouldn’t say no tho?🤓

You two are literally just driving to a 7 eleven and buying candies n shit.

one day/night, both of you decide to try all the flavours of slushies all at once😭.

karaoke while driving 💯💯💯‼️‼️ U guys got some weird looks but it’s ok cus he doesn’t give af.

You’re literally his passenger princess, holding your thigh while he’s driving n everything

Let’s you hold his hand while it’s on the gear stick

basically like:

He would drive you to random places like abandoned places, parks, parking lots, McDonald’s, whatever & wherever🤷🏻‍♀️

he also makes sure to open your door for you when you get in and when you get out.

and he greets you with kisses before driving, and after the driving date is over. Dw, he kisses you but only during stop signs and red lights.

overall fun and chill driving dates‼️

PICNIC DATES

You guys going on a picnic during sundown!!!

the location would be somewhere on a hill where you can see the city/town, those parks with a big lake with ducks in it, or in a quiet park in general.

The two of u eating heart shaped sandwiches and heart shaped cookies (he either bought them or you baked them), or fav snacks that you bought each other<3

Him taking Polaroid pics of you two and posting it in his ig story afterwards.

Here are some pics u two would probably take:

if you have a cat or a dog or something he wouldn’t mind if you brought it with u🤗 (4th image had a dog in 3 of the Polaroid pics).

You two talking and laughing about memorable moments during the sundown and how he’s so grateful to have u as his s/o.

gives u gifts such as: bracelets, hand written notes, rings, matching stuff for u two, plushies, beanies, food, etc.

on special occasions he would bring his guitar and sing u a little song.

During the last few minutes of the sundown, you guys would end the date off with calm songs in the background while slow dancing💗.

AT HOME

Imma be fr, as long as he’s with you that day it’s considered a date.

but imo, at home dates 🔛🔝

u guys do skin care, play random video games, just dance, bake/cook, do his nails or makeup (or even let him do YOUR nails and makeup💀), watch movies, do karaoke, WHATEVER.

If you guys are playing video games, he lets you get first pick and you do a bet like “loser has to tweet whatever I tell u to tweet” or something like that😭

he’d get so cocky about if he wins a game like Mario kart or something and jokingly be like “LOL BABE U KINDA SUCK AT THIS”

if u get sad then he’ll immediately apologize and let you win the next round

but if YOU win he’d be like ”Ok well that’s cus I let you win🙄”.

You guys would be like “no you didn’t just admit it🤣”, “yes I did!!😡😡” for a good 3 minutes until you just kiss him on the lips, interrupting him trying to defend himself

he turns into a little bit of a try hard the next round which you noticed very quickly and purposely lost.

you can decide wether you lost or if he lost🤷🏻‍♀️

if you guys are baking.. good luck😍‼️

Either your kitchen or his kitchen is might be destroyed, and your either the one thats good at baking, or your bad at baking…(double the trouble)😭

if your good at baking, it’s most likely yours or his kitchen will only be a little bit messy, and it all goes pretty smoothly, whatever your baking will probably taste amazing!

if your bad at baking…….both of you are struggling a bit and (maybe) almost fuck up the recipe.

Please just make sure quackity doesn’t do anything that wasn’t mentioned on the instructions until after you guys are done.😭

I gotta say tho he can make some bomb ass cookie/cupcake designs…like dicks…and boobies….

he tried making two matching cookies/cupcakes look like you and him kissing😭💗.

Tbh food turned out pretty good tho, ur/his kitchen was literally almost engulfed by flower an sugar. And the countertop had a considerable amount of frosting and sprinkles on it.

it’s ok tho cus you two clean up after yourselves while saying “let’s not bake again!.” knowing damn well you two are gonna bake again‼️💯💯🔥🔥🔥

Moving on…I feel like he would enjoy spa/relaxation nights where u two are doing skin care, face masks, just chilling in general.

Pictures again, it can be on your phone or on a Polaroid and this time you two are wearing face masks.

he knows what face roller is but he’s never tried it so the first time you do it for him he’s just like “😵‍💫🥴” yk? After his turn is done so now it’s ur turn but you have to guide him.

I feel like he’s AMAZING at giving back massages like, if you tell him there’s too much pressure, he’d put the perfect amount of pressure for you and you’re just in awe the whole time.

after all that, you two end the night by cuddling in each other’s arms until you both start to fall asleep.

or watch movies, but you can decide ofc :)

[cupid-styles]

Ok I know you said you’re tired so no pressure but I just had an idea for ymls so ima send it in and maybe for concepts laterrrrr <3

Ok ok ok so I know ymls started out as an enemies to lovers kind of thing but developed from there which has been the loveliest development 🫠 (seriously one of my absolute favs) but what about the night they met? ‘Cause you did a blurby on the first night they hooked up (thank u) but I had this thought that like, the first night they met, if they were all out with friends, y/n would be extra grumpy because she’d be irritated at how attractive and enigmatic he was and she didn’t wanna be drawn to someone like that bc literally who does and so he’d be flirting with everyone bc that’s just his personality which would annoy her even more bc she’s so (adorably) grumpy and so she would make an effort to talk to everyone but him and then THAT WAY you could have the little blurby/one shot you’d intended about them actually being enemies and like witty banter (which as we’ve seen obviously develops into H being a total softie and a total simp for y/n)

Can u tell I relate to a grumpy y/n

Just a thought do NOT mind me if you hate it

I LOVE THIS VERY MUCH TY HERES A LITTLE BLURBIE FOR YA (I changed it a little bc I got carried away LOL)

part of the ymls universe!!!!!

content warnings: none!

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

"God, he's so annoying."

Lea scoffs from beside Y/N, who looks on as Harry waltzes effortlessly around the bar, making any and everyone his biggest fan. She doesn't understand how he does it — or even why he does it — but they both know he's charismatic enough to convince anyone to sleep with him, bail him out of jail, or sell him their house. Or, all of the above.

"I don't understand why you're being so mean," Lea replies as Y/N wraps her lips around her straw, sipping her cocktail, "He's actually really nice."

"Yeah, I can fucking see that."

Lea snorts and shakes her head. "You could probably learn a thing or two from him, actually."

Y/N glares at her and slides her elbows off the bar, rising from the barstool and walking back over to their booth. She doesn't know who this guy thinks he is. Dom brought him tonight, apparently they work together, and everyone just... welcomed him, like he's the son of god or something. There was never a question of whether or not he fit in, and no one asked one another if they liked him. It was irritating because in fact, everyone loved him. Except Y/N, of course.

She'd known him for all of three hours and found his flirtatious nature annoying. She didn't have an issue with his kindness, but it had to be for show, didn't it? No one was actually that nice all the time. She would pay big bucks just to see him properly angry. Maybe then she would like him more.

"Wipe that scowl off your face. You look like you're gonna go on a murder spree."

Y/N rolls her eyes as she slides into the booth, ignoring the typical teasing coming from Dom.

"Me? I could never."

He chuckles and wraps a loose arm around her shoulders, leaning down to catch her ear. "He's the nicest guy ever. You're being really silly, Y/N."

She shrugs his arm off of her, "I don't have to like him."

"That's true," he says with a nod. They both look up to watch him flirt effortlessly with a blonde across the room, a wide toothy grin taking over her face as she laughs, reaching out to run her fingers over his bicep. Y/N resists gagging. "But you don't have a valid reason to hate him."

"I do, actually. He's flirted with nearly half of the bar."

"So you're slut-shaming him?"

"I am not." Y/N mutters.

"Don't look now, but he's coming this way."

She tries not to groan as she glances up. Sure enough, this mysterious Harry plops down at the booth, an empty glass in his large hand.

"You guys need refills?"

She goes to shake her head, but Dom cuts her off. "I think Y/N does, actually. Oh, and could you grab me one while you're up there?"

She sends him a glare through squinted eyes, grumbling as he forces her out of the booth. She passes Harry, continuing her trek up to the bar, and rolls her eyes when she feels him scrambling to catch up to her.

"Hey, Y/N, right?"

She nods, ignoring his presence beside her.

"Nice to meet you. I don't think we got a chance to talk tonight."

"Yeah." she says curtly, waving down the bartender. He misses her and she sighs out in frustration.

"Oh, lemme do it," Harry replies, using his taller stature to grab the attention of the bartender. She grumbles and pushes her elbows up onto the surface of the wood. She bets if she'd worn a top with more cleavage tonight, she wouldn't have to rely on Harry. "I'll take another tequila soda, please, and whatever she wants."

Y/N scowls up at him but nevertheless hands him the empty glasses. "Just two vodka crans, thanks."

"Is that your go-to drink?" Harry asks.

"Only when I'm feeling annoyed."

"Tough day at work?"

"Something like that," she mutters, turning around to face him. "What's with this whole nice guy act? Do you go home and secretly play with human bones or something?"

Harry's eyebrows furrow. "Like... like taxidermy?"

"No. Like psychopathy."

"Are you asking me if I'm a psychopath because I'm... nice?"

"Yeah. There's no way you act like this because you want to. It's weird and you're not fooling me."

Their drinks appear on the bar top and Y/N quickly grabs hers and Dom's, walking back to the booth. She sits down at the end so Harry can't take a seat next to her, only for him to slide in across from her. The tension is apparent as Y/N glares at him, and Dom clears his throat awkwardly.

"Harry's a psychopath." she blurts out. She hopes that's enough to maybe push him out of the group, but instead he just breaks out in loud laughter, a stupid, dazzling grin appearing on his face.

"You're funny," he says once he's calmed down from laughing, "I think we're gonna be good friends."