#I know sunny isn’t canon anymore

[oliviackaotix-blog]

I remember when I first saw Welcome Home’s concept art all the way back in 2018 and thinking, “oh that’s neat” now it’s 2023 and it’s an actual thing and I’m now fixated on it.

[envyenvys]

Some scenes from the Stevie Harrington au I’ve been rotating in my mind for months

Details & IDs under the cut:

[ID 1: Stephanie Harrington speaking into a walkie-talkie, her text bubble reads:

“Sound off, shitheads.”

She has long brown hair with big waves, and is wearing a white tank top and blue jeans. She looks vaguely annoyed or exasperated. End ID 1]

[ID 2: Steph lying stomach-down on the end of a bed, propped up on her elbows so she can hold hands with Chrissy Cunningham, who’s speaking. Chrissy’s text bubbles read:

“Jason just doesn’t get it. I wanna hang out, and shop, and cheer, and beat the shit out of interdimensional man-eating monsters. You know, I wanna do girly stuff!”

Steph looks indulgently down at Chrissy, who’s smiling and sitting on the floor. Steph’s wearing a red crop top and blue jeans, and Chrissy has on a yellow and white striped headband, a white and pink floral print button-up shirt, and sunny yellow overalls, which have multicoloured flowers embroidered around the hips and ankles. End ID 2]

Chrissy’s dialogue here is inspired by a similar quote from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, because I thought it would be a fun & cute thing for her to say, and her outfit is inspired by one of princess Diana’s bc she’s a fashion icon.

[ID 3: Steph and Robin Buckley, both in their Scoops Ahoy uniforms, complete with the hats. Robin’s holding up a whiteboard divided into ‘hit’ and ‘miss’ sections. ‘Miss’ has twelve tally marks, and ‘hit’ has a single tally with a small question mark beside it. Their dialogue reads:

Robin: Board’s getting full, Harrington. You’re a real heartbreaker today.

Steph: Told you I could make this outfit work.

Steph is smiling, holding an ice cream scoop, and her hair’s braided over her shoulder with a red scrunchie. Robin looks amused, like she’s teasing. End ID 3]

[ID 4: Steph and Dustin Henderson in the scene from season 2 where they’re leaving a trail of meat for Dart on the railroad tracks. They both have yellow gloves and are holding buckets of meat, and Steph has her bat over her shoulder. Their dialogue reads:

Steph: I’ll bring you some of my Farrah Fawcett spray.

Dustin: Isn’t that for girls?

Steph: It’s for hair.

The word ‘hair’ is underlined. Steph is wearing a light blue and purple jacket over a red turtleneck and blue jeans, and her hair is in a ponytail with a red scrunchie. Dustin is wearing his canon outfit, complete with the baseball cap and headset. He looks skeptical. End ID 4]

Bonus transcript of me explaining the single tally + question mark in dms:

🍓[me]: Snappy dialogue to indicate that the board is abt men failing to flirt with her and not the other way around 👍

🍇[beloved]: who's the hit?

🍓: Eddie lmfao

🍓: The question mark is there bc Robin was so baffled by Eddie’s complete lack of rizz that she’s not sure she even interpreted that correctly

🍇: KNEW it

🍇: robin watching the entire time: 🤨

🍓: He wasn’t even trying to flirt is the thing he just got up there and lost his mind and his friends were standing behind him clearly being like “we don’t know this guy” and somehow steph got like… giggly??

🍓: Robin, afterwards: what the hell was that

🍓: Steph, clueless: what was what? 😀❓

🍓: Eddie crouching down behind one of those large decorative plants for ten straight minutes desperately holding his head in his hands shinji-style to stave off the cringe

🍓: His ice cream melts btw

🍇: his friends are standing a full meter away from him, pointedly not looking

🍓: Yeah they’re on the other end of the food court sitting at a table facing him but very carefully avoiding actually looking at him. They’d put their backs to him but the last time they did that (different mall, long story, they aren’t allowed in anymore) Eddie got kicked out by mall security and it took them like three hours to find him

🍓: This was before Gareth’s time and no one’s ever actually explained the full situation to him bc 1) they keep embellishing it and 2) eddie gets screechy when they try

[luffyvace]

Katsuki Bakugo x Shoto twin reader

These are for my good friend irl :) ENJOY!!

btw this is written with fem! Reader in mind. Yes I will likely do a male reader version dw 💗 (i don’t think it’ll have shoto twin reader)

So bakugo in a relationship huh? Not the first thing I’d think he’s into but hey, it’s already happened now! 🤷‍♀️

About kats and todo’s beef tho….

at the beginning I mean

katsuki isn’t the type of person to lump people in with your siblings or wtv

buttttt if you and shoto are similar/have similar personalities or interests he might somewhat dislike you at first

if not he doesn’t mind

but it’d especially tick him off if you and todo gang up on him in fights/arguments

but again he decides his opinion of you based off what you show him him or how you present yourself

which is why he didn’t remember most people’s names at the beginning of the show

bc he didn’t have anything to remember them by-

he may come up to you on some sunny callin you icy hot 2.0 n stuff but if you assert your dominance and show him you deserve respect then he lets go of that quickly

not out of fear but because katsuki doesn’t really pick on the people he respects

best jeanist is a great example of what I mean!

if your relation to todo is really similar however

he might find you a bit more annoying at first

he just thinks of you as the off brand version of todoroki until you give him a reason to respect you 😗

Although if your talking more mature kats when it’s like s4 around then he’s more likely to view you as your own person first time around

he also doesn’t do any of that crap anymore and doesn’t mind that you and todo are twins

he used to always mutter ‘your wretched brother’ this and that

but he cut that out

i mean unless you nipped it in the bun back then 🤪

and to do that you likely have to humble him

So after that phase is over nicknames can range from a shorter version of your name to aliases he/people have given you

like how shoto’s quirk is hot/cold so he calls him icy hot

But whatever he comes up with for you isn’t said with a bad intent by him, of course

And w/ cooking you already know his is FIRE 🔥🔥💥💥

like it’s canon this man can cook like 💃💃🕺👯‍♀️👯‍♀️

(that’s you dancing bc his food’s so good)

GET YOU A MAN LIKE KATSUKI. GET YOU A MAN THAT CAN COOK. 💥💥💥

he be using all types of seasoning so you KNOW it ain’t dry

especially if your a spicy food lover

like I feel he genuinely doesn’t get people who doesn’t like spicy food

he may think your a bit of a wimp..🤓

If you inherited endeavor’s fire quirk he finds it useful that you can lite his barbecues or make fire for cooking in the woods for example

he still heated that explosions don’t work 🤦‍♀️

but ngl he’d rather you than shoto sooo..🤷‍♀️

For love languages his is quality time, acts of service and a bit of gift giving

with quality time he likes to ice skate with you since (if you inherited the ice quirk) you can withstand the cold

He’d try to impress you by saying he’s not that cold (even with a coat on) but he actually is

why would he admit that tho

he’s actually cold don’t torture him by staying longer than you need to

(or do I ain’t gonna judge 😂)

kats likes challenges because it makes him feel accomplished once he completed them

So he likes to do freezer challenges!!

(basically it’s this challenge where you go into a walk in freezer and see who can last the longest—don’t try this at home I’ve only seen this on YouTube and idk if that’s the actual name)

and of course your immune to the cold so it’s easy for you

so if he beats you it’ll make him feel proud

don’t think that just bc your his girlfriend he doesn’t compete with you

there’s no way he’s seeing an opportunity to become the number 1 hero and not taking it to let his girlfriend be happy

don’t blame him who would……

when you first get into your relationship things might be a little awkward and you may or may not be a little intimidated by him

which if you are he feels sorta bad and he doesn’t want you to be

he doesn’t want people he cares about to think he’s some monster

if you were just come class b rubbish what does he care what you think?

but your his girlfriend and probably his first of course he cares what you think of him!

you likely address this early because he doesn’t like the feeling it gives him

so no worries :)

if you were never intimidated by him tho

its probably just awkward silence..

even more so if you were as aloof as todo was back in the first season

or if your just a quiet/socially awkward person

kats isn’t awkward he just doesn’t really know what to say either..

deeper in relationship tho!!

things are a lot less tense and more casual

a thing you do a lot is kinda just be sprawled in bed together doing your own thing

not necessarily cuddling but your both just comfy

you guys have picked up on your couple routines and habits and what not

so things have definitely smoothed over

thankfully

with baths kats prefers not to take them together

like he just doesn’t see the point

and it’s prob quicker separately

yeah no he’s not doing it

if you’ve been together for years by now, however

he might let you wash his hair

only cuz he likes the way you scrub/scratch his scalp

its relaxing

he still doesn’t wanna do it all the time tho

You two def always work out together

so at least that

he always makes sure you pack everything before going to train/work out

he’s more meticulous than you know and it annoys him when one of you forget something

“it’s fine katsuki just leave it!”

”no I’ll just go run and get it it’s fine!”

you might as well wait bc he just has to have this one thing

idk why

you guys take a good amount of water breaks and such but you go really hard core while your at it

He’s probably either silent or a yelling motivator..no in between

Your friends lowkey ship you guys

and tease you

mina tries to get you to do pranks on katsuki

mostly bc she gets more backlash if she does it

LOL

like little stupid pranks like drawing on his face or acting like your cheating 😊

THATS NOT A LITTLE PRANK BUT SHE TRIES TO CONVINCE YOU ANYWAY-

“give in to peer pressure!” >:(

Dont katsuki will explode

LITTERALLY-

ok my bad but I just had to put at least one bad joke in there..

💥💥

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!

I had fun writing this and it didn’t take long at all :)

[quillsandblades]

how do you think a Levihan marriage proposal would happen? (who would do it, would they have planned to propose or would it be something of the moment?)

Thank you for the ask sunny! I had so much fun with this one 💜💚

I love thinking up scenarios about the levihan proposal! While there are too many I have in mind, there’s only two headcanons that I’d consider rational (Cuz the others are something like my fic Experiments and Feelings or yours Mrs Ackerman (is after your sanity), or that I basically consider them married from somewhere around the time Wall Maria fell). 

The first one would be if Hange survived the war (which she did, no one says otherwise): 

 So technically, Hanjo confessed or sort-of proposed first here when they were both in the forest. Levi doesn’t give her a proper answer because Eren’s going berserk with the Rumbling and they gotta get a hold of their brat (as responsible parents it’s their duty) and she understands cuz she gets Levi and he gets her and she knows she’s being rash

They reach the port, prepare the plane and things are starting to look up so he answers her proposal with a yes—but this is Levi Ackerman we’re talking about and he’s clumsy when it comes to romance. So he goes about it the childish way and hides it in taunts about her love for titans. This time it’s Hange who changes the subject, not as a rejection but a reminder that they’re not out of the woods yet

The Rumbling approaches and Hange decides to buy time but of course she’s smart and uses that head of hers to whip up a safe way to get them time rather than getting herself burnt (as she would have in canon if Isayama wasn’t hell bent on killing her) 

So she comes back on the plane without injuries or burns, she’s totally fine and the relief Levi feels in seeing her is so overwhelming he has to lie down to stop his head spinning. And he realises he needs her to stay alive even through their final charge and when she meets his eye he knows she’s thinking the same. 

War ends, peace prevails. Levihan retire and travel the world cuz Hange can’t sit still. They don’t talk about the forest or the port, they don’t know how to. Not now when everything’s much calmer, they’re not used to this kind of thing. 

But there’s an unspoken commitment between them, they’re ‘together’. Eventually they build a cabin in the forest but just living there is a monotonous routine neither of them are used to. So they still travel around but when they need a break they use their cabin, stay there for weeks or months. 

They visit the town and the market whenever they're staying, and people get to know them and they ask if they’re living together then are they married? They often try to explain that yes they live together but they’re not married. Are they lovers? They don’t know how to answer that cuz they never defined their relationship, she’s Hange, he’s Levi, isn’t that enough? Their vague answers leave several elderly people confused and giving them weird glances and having people whisper and mutter. But they don’t care, they’ve been through hell and what people say doesn’t matter anymore 

It’s Levi who addresses the thing, he suggests they get married. He’s not one for words so I never thought he’d give long speeches to propose. Levi had given marriage thought and it felt like a nice concept, Hange was never one for labels, so she never thought much on it, just happy with what they had

But then he asks her, quietly, almost timidly and there’s a slightest blush on his cheeks and he’s fidgeting and Hange just finds it adorable. But she wants to tease him a bit so she says sure but why and then he only mutters, “It’ll shut up the townspeople. And newlyweds get discounts in the market.” And she just laughs, “Sure Levi, I’ll marry you so we can get the discounts.” 

He tugs her ponytail and grumbles that she knows it’s not the only reason. Hange pesters him until he huffs out a quiet “It’s ‘cause I love you, you moron.” He doesn’t say that too often (emotionally constipated midget) but he repeats it now, looking right into her eyes and asking her to marry him. And she’s laughing and pink in the face when she says yes

The second one being around the time when Hange was commander:

Only when they come back from Shiganshina does the implications of what Levi had done hit him fully. Hange is now standing under the weight of the Survey Corps and the future of Eldia. It changes her, and Levi doesn’t like it, not one bit. 

She doesn’t smile like she used to, her laughter is curt, forced and not the carefree cackle he used to hear, the one that made him think she had wings and was soaring. In my mind, they already love each other, they know and have confessed long ago. They had to make the most of what they had and time for companionship was a luxury with death hanging over so close. So they’d thought, why the fuck not? We die today or in ten years at least our hearts will be in peace. 

But this, this is different. Hange isn’t dead, but she reeks of it. And that terrifies him. So he does what he can, he holds her when she’s cracking and stands beside her when she’s struggling to meet the gaze of the world. He knows the old Hange won’t be back now. 

And he realises how much he truly loves her, how much he needs her in his life. Even when she’s like this. He doesn’t care whether she’s shouting his ears off about titans or talking diplomacy with heavy eyes, she’s Hange and that’s all he wants from her. 

And Levi’s not the only one feeling like that. Hange thinks about them a lot, thinks how she’s there for him and he’s there for her. And she knows that matters. She notices weddings in the towns, sees couples tie the knot for life and she feels like it’s not a bad idea. Sharing the highs and lows of life with someone. 

But she’s commander and the world needs her and it’d be selfish. So she drops it (but she can’t and the urge keeps rising, and it makes her think why? She and Levi are already committed to each other, what will a simple stamp of marriage change? She doesn’t get it, but she knows she wants it.) 

Levi’s the one to propose (once again). It’s not fancy, there aren’t a lot of words, there aren’t even flowers or a ring. Only parchment, paper and ink stained fingers, a cup of tea and sunlight in her office. 

And the words, “Oi shitty-glasses, let’s get married.”

She laughs at first, devoid of humour, then she tells him they can’t. It’ll be selfish, Paradis needs her. He just raises a brow and says, “We’re practically already married and seeing as the situation of Paradis hasn’t gone to shit any more than it already had, I don’t see how sealing our relation with some vows and rings will change things.”

She agrees, they get married in a span of twenty minutes in their uniforms and are called in for a meeting afterwards. Levi was right, nothing has changed really.

But he wears this soft almost-smile for the whole day and Hange is laughing for the first time in months. Levi even goes slack in training the soldiers and the 104th are all betting on what could’ve happened to the captain. Jean suggests that maybe he found some new cleaning technology in all the stuff Hizuru’s engineers brought in. Sasha thinks he found a stash of exotic tea leaves. It’s Armin who wins in the end, and everyone’s left shocked—not because they can’t believe Hange-san and the captain are together, but because they thought they were already married long ago.

Weeks later when Hange plans to infiltrate Marley and she’s done talking to the 104th, Levi pulls her aside and says with all the deadpan, “You’re seriously planning our honeymoon in a country that wants to kill us on sight? Couldn't it be someplace peaceful like the goddamn beach?” And she just grins back at him like, “What’s the fun in that?” 

 So yeah they got duties, and their country needs them and everything. But they’re married in it doesn’t really make things worse, in fact Hange smiles a bit easy and Levi feels a bit better and that’s all that matters. 

(This was longgg but I hope you enjoyed it! )

[guckies]

I went back to watch the moment about Bad bringing up purgatory and really it’s just that everyone is confused and Bad needs to explicitly say if he is canonically on or off the island without some weird loop hole that gives him both lores on the both islands for one character to know.

Now the mini events aren’t always like a lore canon thing but the eggs are in lore majority of the time. This is cause the eggs are lore/rp characters the same way Cucurucho is and the only way they aren’t is when they explicitly say it or the cc says that the info they’re saying is out of rp.

But this is what happened -

Bad brought up first that he saw Tubbo that day to sunny who had been with Fit the entire day. Then Richarylson questioned him saying “Aren’t you meant to not be spiritually projecting rn” and he said “I don’t know what you’re talking about” which is just as confusing as what Richas said to him.

Then the others asked a general question just saying how was it and if he was winning not anything about any of the lore aspects. He then later brought up the quesadilla lore stuff with Phil despite it not really being the time or place, as well as him not supposedly being there to the other characters (specifically Fit and Phil think he’s kidnapped because he hasn’t clarified and they honestly act like they can’t be bothered asking anymore about it which not gonna blame them on) who all think that he is kidnapped because Bad has evaded the question and not given them an explicit answer.

So the eggs, current quesadilla islanders and the viewers are very confused.

Cause none of it make sense and Bad’s “1/3 is in purgatory”(which is the spiritually projecting thing richas is eluding to) is a struggle rp wise too because how is he meant to participate in lore or rp when he’s giving so many mixed signals if he is or isn’t canonically on the island.

Like he’s telling the eggs about their parents when they’re always meant to be in lore, then telling the other islanders that he’s on vacation which implies he’s not doing lore. So then it looks like meta gaming (because the eggs are just being told info randomly without knowing they’re getting told ie like a twitch chat that a streamer reads except eggs can’t really ignore it) from the pov of someone who has no clue if it’s in rp or not especially when it’s told to the eggs who are in rp 24/7. But then even the eggs don’t know if he’s actually there or not so they have to come up with a rp opinion about it and now think he’s lying about their parents because they aren’t meant to know about it really.

Along with this how come he can only just now separate himself in parts like this(yes things are secret but that raises the question how come he didn’t preemptively do this in purgatory 1), how is he getting the info back and forward from each “part” of him, how is it even a different part/version of him if he’s still in the same dimension(cause travelling back and forward from the island defeats the whole purpose of purgatory 1 and he isn’t a slime so how would he be able to make a clones/another version) and then why is he even telling the kids that information when they are separated from their parents which is just going to make them sad(but it is giving the eggs a rp struggle because not all of them are going to know if they are meant to know that info or not).

But really the real question is why does bad have to be involved in both lores and knowing everything. It’s not as if the others are going to keep everything from him and not tell him. Like when has anyone not ever told people about lore that affects everyone, he will be told everything all he has to do is ask. By the time he’s back the photo if the eyed workers will probably still be up as well all he has to do is ask them about it and they’ll give him an answer.

[somethin-human]

*cough* aNYwAy!

Sam headcanons 🤠

As mentioned before, he was gifted a frog Build A Bear by one of the Shaw Pack mates. It’s name is Sammy and he has a little cowboy hat.

He has one (1) cowboy hat but he never wears it. He only has it because Vincent gifted it to him for some reason when they were first getting to know each other.

Before Darlin’ came into the picture, he had a pet dog.

He hates doing his weekly drink of blood because he thinks it’s gross so he has a little “fun” with it and uses a shot glass instead of drinking it from a bag.

Although vampires don’t need actual food to survive, he still has meals with Darlin’ so they don’t feel lonely or so that he makes sure they’re eating properly. He also just really likes the taste of his own cooking.

He’s very “traditional” when it comes to relationships. Like, when he met Darlin’, he felt the need to meet their family. Obviously we don’t really know much about Darlin’ family so the Shaw Pack was the next best thing.

His cabin doesn’t feel as southern as his vibes set out to be. Darlin’ was really surprised to see the lack of taxidermy and animal skulls hung up on his wall.

Addition to home decor, he has a lot of fake plants because this man has no idea how tf to keep a plant alive to save his life, but he wants his home to feel alive in a way.

He doesn’t own a lot of sweaters, but he does have a SH*T ton of flannels. Like a very very concerning amount of them.

I could be wrong but I think I remember seeing on the timeline that Sam didn’t have a good home life growing up. When he left, he did take a photo of his family because he genuinely does miss them in a way, but would never come to visit (nor could he because he’s a vampire and all that).

When him and Darlin’ moved in together, he thought about getting a dog, but when Darlin’s wolf fur started getting everywhere, he decided to pass on it.

He’s deathly afraid of chickens.

He’s thought about wanting kids but after having to take care of Darlin’, he doesn’t feel the need to anymore lmao.

He has a picture of his first party (whatever the vampire party was called) with the clan. He absolutely hates seeing himself in a suit, but Darlin’ loves it and thinks he looks “very pretty”, in their words.

He sleeps on his stomach. Whenever he wakes up, he’s always super sprawled out, the blanket isn’t even on him anymore.

I’m pretty sure this is already canon, but his favorite season is autumn/fall. He just likes the colors and how it’s not really as sunny outside so he’s able to sit on his porch during the day.

Sam can sing. Like really well. The first time he actually sung around people was during a little meet up with the Shaw Pack and they did Karaoke. He sung River by BRKN LOVE, as Darlin’ requested and they absolutely fell more in love with him.

I feel like Darlin’ also got him into Hozier but the only songs he religiously listens to is Would That I, Like Real People Do, and Cherry Wine (but specifically the live version).

He HATES dancing. Absolutely hates it. The most he’ll do is tap his foot or sway a little bit.

Definitely gives the absolute best hugs. He’s a tall, little bit chonky guy. He gives the most perfect bear hugs.

Also because he’s not an actual prince, but is a duke of the Solaire Clan, William got him a custom made broach. He’s very grateful for it and never wears it. He leaves it in the box on his dresser with his other important trinkets and photos.

He has a box full of random stuff that Darlin’ has collected over the years from the forest.

[basilpawzz143]

im gonna make an omori au thats. Where basil is me

bc im not canon basil, i don’t think. There’s too much differences

im. Basil from a certain au and i’m going to make that au

i already have plans for some of the other characters (my friends??) too

Aubrey will be loosely based on my irl friend, because i heavily associate her with Aubrey

Mari might be based on someone I saw as an older brother (although not like him exactly, because Mari is a girl and he isn’t. Although, I don’t talk to him anymore. That’s really sad.)

anyways mari is alive in ghis au

uhhm

i don’t have plans for anyone else. Maybe Kel will also be based on a friend i have but for anyone else idk, do i just wing the au versions of them and get something that feels ‘right’?

also i cant base Sunny off of anyone i actually know bc I ship sunflower and that would make it weird

[forgetyoursingalongsandlullabies]

After I posted about how I love the TMA fanart I had a couple people ask about how I think the characters look. I can’t draw so here are some photos and descriptions. Note* I listened to the whole series before I even looked at the fandom. They’re stuck as who they are in my brain and I can’t change them anymore, they’re dug in there.

The Archivist Jon Sims - Ben Barnes

Shadow and Bone Ben Barnes where he’s in his late 30s and showing his grays a little, NOT twink Prince Caspian Ben Barnes.

Martin Blackwood - Luke Newberry

I know canonically Martin is on the bigger side but that sweet face, the big beautiful puppy eyes and the ginger hair! The 2nd photo is 100% the way I see him in S4. In S1-3 he wears a lot of color but by S4 he’s all gray suits and no smiles in his eyes.

Sasha James - Eva Noblezada

She has long hair and glasses and Not!Sasha has shorter Hadestown hair and no glasses and wears pretty much just black and white.

Tim Stoker - Tom Hopper

From his Merlin days when he was a little more baby than he is in Umbrella Academy. I love the Hawaiian shirt thing that’s going on with the art. I always just think of him in well fitted t-shirts.

Melanie King - Amanda Fuller

Except she has big fire orange hair and wears t-shirts and leather jackets.

Georgie Barker - H.E.R.

I’m obsessed with the idea that Georgie and Melanie both have enormous hair.

Daisy Tonner - Indira Varma

I don’t necessarily know why but she’s all I’ve ever seen Daisy as. Maybe because she has an incredible “don’t fuck with me” look.

Basira Hussein - I don’t have a specific actress in mind for her but she has a gorgeous round face dark pools for eyes and full lips. Idk if Basira wears a hijab all the time, I don’t think I have the right to headcanon one way or another, but if she isn’t wearing it she has curly black hair.

Elias Bouchard - Hear me out, I imagined him before I knew he was evil and hot. By the time I realized, it was too late for my brain to reliably change him. He’s a remolded memory of Uncle Jack in It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia only a little younger and with a Vincent Price pencil mustache and a very nice suit. I won’t add a picture of the actor because it’s not exactly him.

Michael - Bill Skarsgard

It’s probably a gimme since he plays so many weird little guys but he’s beautiful and creepy at the same time and I like to imagine him with the long ringlets.

Helen - Nina Sosanya

I mean, it feels obvious to me. Her smile is even mischievous.

Peter Lukas - Cary Elwes

There is a 10 image limit and I am not dropping my 2nd Martin picture for Peter Lukas. But Cary Elwes as of 2019ish idk if he looks more or less the same now. But I have a complicated relationship with The Lonely and it is important to me that Peter looks older, evil and also kind of fuckable.

OKAY THANKS FOR LETTING ME SHARE!

[zetomato]

The case of the Kidnappings (QSMP)

There we go again!

Ok, this time I’m searching for more answers than I’m just sharing my opinion on something, again, QSMP related.

Couldn’t watch a lot of streams lately, something, something, rush of things to do before the holidays and stuff. But I’ve heard from my servers about the list of kidnapped people (who seem linked to going to Purgatory 2: Electric Bugaloo)

Now, some will expect the question, but I’ll ask it still.

Are Tubbo and BBH back in canon, or out of canon?

Let me explain my confusion since I saw people defend how nothing happening is canon and yet praising the things happening like canon.

The Back in canon

Now, take this with a grain of salt, I do not know if they talked with the admins to have a last moments with the eggs or something, but let’s go with not since many are mentioning that they showed up without being canon.

The server is amazing, a team helping to make cool content and player’s Lore happen, there’s the eggs who stole everyone’s heart, there are so many reasons to spend as much time as possible on it. But if they were taken out, kidnapped, just as Pac was, just as Etoiles was… Just as many were. Why are they back? Showing back just because they want to hang out on the server feels flat and a bit… off? No one is THE protagonist of the server, that’s why there are rules in group server, so everyone has the same restrictions, no matter how wide they are, so someone doesn’t get all the spotlight or look like the favorite child…

Therefore, I am hoping that it is the second option (out of canon) or that they had a deal with the admins for this.

The Out of canon

Ok, so this one is the one I saw stressed on the most. Therefore, the one that made me rant. Because if it’s the case, then all that happened since the kidnapping isn’t canon anymore. Sunny’s safe room and birthday, BBH hanging out with Pepito, the Eggs unwillingness to have them leave, the code attack… Everything is now supposed to be wiped, then? If the thing was indeed agreed upon to not be canon I won’t just blame the players, the admins didn’t have to make the eggs log on or interact with people announcing to be out of canon, they shouldn’t have sent a code to attack. People cannot be “out of canon” then interacting with their eggs on the server (they can chat with the admins on discord, but there is not really any out of RP way to interact with the eggs)

So yeah! Which is it? Because I cannot fully enjoy lore if it is just fake, nor can I enjoy it fully if it’s done by breaking server rules that others abide by.

I hate when people loudly go out of RP in other people’s cool RP scenes, I hate when people glitch through walls or doors to get more information/test the limits, I hate when people try to find loopholes in puzzles with cheats or glitches. I am not a fan of unfair play, no matter if the ones doing it are CCs I do not vibe with or my favorite blorbos. And, right now, I am not sure where the ball is and if I’ll like where it’s falling.

BBH/Tubbo watchers PLEASE tell me what’s happening because I cannot follow what the line of canon is anymore on their stream.

[lovelypuppetmax]

Ok! So spoiler for people who haven’t seen the welcome home update below!!

So Sally was talking about monsters, then in the secret video we see Wally eating with his eyes. Could the book reading be referring to Wally?? Possibly. But do I also believe it could be a red herring?? Also yes!! It’s still hard for me to believe Wally would do anything malicious (at least intentionally). Someone once mentioned that it could also be about the puppeteers of the show. And I’d like to add something to that theory.

We know that in secret/broken WH website, there is a photo of Frank surrounded by other franks (or we assume is other Franks). The audio could be a reference to that. Could also be a reference to how other puppets (and no, this isn’t a reference to sunny since he isn’t canon anymore iirc) who either didn’t make the cut, or were removed. Or possibly they were only meant for an episode or two?? I’m not sure.

Even if Wally is confirmed to be an antagonist, I will still adore his character. I still love welcome home so much!!

[wtl-archive]

Intermission 02: We don’t have many days.

Black waves slammed against the sand as thick grey clouds loomed overhead, the gentle hues and warmth of sunny day nothing but an ancient, forgotten memory to the Withered landscape. Low rumbles in the distance signaled a coming storm, a common occurrence these days, but for now, the beach was calm.

Connie watched the tides, her head and arms resting on her knees, as Steven sat behind her and braided her hair, humming the tune to a song she could no longer recall the lyrics for. She tapped her left foot in tempo with the melody, with each tap of the metal limb stirring up a puff of sand.

Steven worked his fingers through the soft pink strands of Connie’s hair, weaving a path they had woven a thousand times before and he hoped would weave another thousand more. Her hair was smooth and clean, unlike the matted, dark curls atop his own head, but he’d given up managing his hair a long time ago. For now he settled for tying it up to keep it out of his face (and out of any corrupted gem’s grasp). His pace slowed as a patch of silver peaked through all the pink.

She took notice of his change in pace. “What is it? Is something stuck in there?” She turned just enough to lock eyes with him, careful not to pull the half-finished braid out of his hands.

He shook his head. “No. It’s just… more of your hair is gray. More than the last time I braided it, I mean.”

“Oh c'mon now, a few gray hairs isn’t the end of the world,” she teased, “I didn’t think that you of all people would be so shallow.”

Steven didn’t return any of her playful attitude, instead offering a low grumble in response. He quickly finished the braid then asked, “Do you know how long it’s been since it started going gray?”

“I’m not sure." She spun around so that she was facing him and leaned back on her hands. "A few decades maybe? I don’t really keep track of the time anymore.”

“547 years, 6 months, 18 days.” He said, his voice unusually cold.

“Umm… what?” Connie stammered, visibly startled by the specificity of his answer.

He dug his hands into the sand and sighed, “It’s been 547 years, 6 months, and 18 days since I first noticed your hair was turning gray."

"You’ve been counting all this time?”

“Since I realized what was happening, yes,” he nodded. As for how many months or even decades had gone by without him noticing the changes to her hair, well, he’d rather not think about it. “And you haven’t given it a second thought, have you?”

“Why would I? That’s what happens when you get older. Your joints get stiff, and you get wrinkles, and your hair loses its color.” she said, crossing her arms defensively, fully aware of where this train of thought was taking the conversation.

“But I don’t, Connie, that’s just it!” He jumped up and paced back and forth, kicking up sand with every step. “My hair is still brown! It’ll always be brown!” he shouted, pulling his curls dramatically with both hands. “Besides these bags under my eyes, I don’t have any wrinkles! I can still run miles without getting tired! It’s been, what, five, six thousand years, and I still look like I’m 35!"

"Steven, I know we’re not aging on the same timescale but–”

“Connie, please! I…I’ve…” he half-yelled, half-sniffled, tears rolling down his cheeks, “I’ve watched too many people die, Connie.” He got down on his knees in front of her and gently held her hand. His next words were barely audible. “I can’t watch you die too.”

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

Read all the pages in order here.

Blog Info

Oh! It's depression! :D

I think what's funny about this is that the entire plot in the Monster Line is jank exclusively because of the one sentence Druid says in this one intermission giving a specific number of years/months/weeks/days passed to Connie and his (canonically incorrect but still somewhat in the ballpark) offering of a range of time that had passed across his life, and if it weren't for that rookie writer mistake I could've had a much more flexible timeline. I could retcon it cause it's not like most people would notice, but this is an archive.

Unrelated to that, Druid's speech is so formal here, it's fucking weird. It sounds like how *I* would talk lmao not how he should talk, but I don't think I had his aggressive country accent established until a little further into the project. This is why Sven is easier for me to write dialogue for, he talks the same way I do for the most part.

Writer Credit: NugatorySheep

[cleaning-has-its-benefits]

I’ve had this wip since last year but I’ve found I have almost zero interest in finishing it, so I decided to shelve it and post what I had here.

It took place in a post- hikikomori route settling from Omori’s point of view. It would’ve had a major character death warning and the tags: angst, post-canon, aged up character.

The title was “ Who would have thought one day the same would happen to me?” and the summary was “In which Omori fails at granting Sunny’s wish”

Here’s what I had written for it, with only the typos fixed.

___

A solitary truck looms over the horizon, quickly approaching. Hero lifts out his thumb for the driver to see, but like all the times before, the vehicle passes by. He isn’t even disappointing anymore. Letting out a sigh, gives one last look at the empty highway, and decides to head back where the others, who are a bit further away, still walking.

Briefly he trots to caught up to them. Kel and Aubrey turn towards him upon his arrival. No one needs to ask anything.

“We’ve walking for ages!” Kel complains.

“I know.” Hero responds.

“I’m tired! My feet hurt!”

Aubrey groans. “Why don’t you shut up?!”

“Hey, easy you two. We’re all tired but I’m sure We’ll must be nearby.” Hero calmed them before they could start fighting.

“How much’s left before we reach… ehm…” Aubrey frowns. “Where were we going?”

“Faraway town.”

“Now I get why is called Faraway town!” Kel once again complained. “Are you sure this isn’t like the endless highway?!”

“Omori knows where he’s leading us to! Right, Omori?” Aubrey turns towards Omori, who had not hear her question. Or anything they had said. All his concentration was in putting one foot in front of the other, taking one short, shaky step at a time, walking on legs that could barely carry the weight of his thin body. “You see?”

Kel groaned. “Just why do we have to go somewhere so far?”

“Well,” Hero began. “That’s the place we have to go. We’ll soon take a break, Kel.”

“and why not now?!”

“Weren’t you the one complaining about wanting to get there fast because the path was ‘sooo boring’.” Aubrey imitated Kel’s voice, without putting much effort in it sounding similar at all.

“It is! There’s no one here, the land’s barren, the plants are all dead, this place sucks-”

Omori lost his balance and fell to the ground with a loud thud. They gasped his name and broke formation, kneeling beside him.

“Are you okay, Omori?!”

“T-That sounded like it hurt…”

It was a simple, short fall, yet so punishing. The ground was so hot it burned his skin. Omori got up as quickly as he could, which was so, so frustratingly slow. His trembling arms couldn’t do anymore. When he managed to sit on his knees, he had no other option but to rest, his labored breathing closer to gasps of agony.

“My god, Omori… can you stand?” Hero kneeled besides Omori, ready to lend a hand.

He turned towards Hero, who understood his silent request and lended a shoulder for him to support himself and help him get up. However, when Omori reached for it, his hand went right through.

Somehow, Hero seemed more hurt by this than Omori. “That curse is still on you?”

“Come on, Omori!” Kel placed himself in front of him. “It was just a little fall, you’ve gotten up from worse! This is nothing!”

Kel’s cheers were irritating for Omori’s ears. Still, he, slowly, so, so slowly, got up, all the while Kel cheered on him, Omori getting up more in spite of it than because of it.

“Maybe we should take a break…” Aubrey suggested, very concerned.

But Omori shook his head immediately at the idea.

___

yeah as you can see, this is really barebones and I don’t even know where to start counting the mistakes and stuff to fix. This is more of a guideline than anything.

Welp, the plot is that Omori, having “taken” control of sunny’s body a long time ago (or rather, sunny giving him the full control without a memo or anything) is walking nearby a highway, following it. he is accompanied by hs hero, kel and aubrey. Omori’s motivation is trying to reach Faraway town. He hasn’t heard from sunny in ages and just recently he’s gotten word from him, the simple request of “I want to go home”. I didn’t decide if this actually Sunny or if Omori is confused at feeling nostalgia.

Omori remembered the time from when he and Sunny’s mother moved from Faraway to the city. They travelled through a highway, so he guessed he could just walk back. It didn’t take that long last time. This is basically a fic of Omori dying of dehidration for having no idea how the real world works.

After Aubrey suggest they should rest for while, Omori refuses because he doesn’t want to stay under the sun anymore and wants to find shade as soon as possible. He keeps walking, now the hs friends more aware of his poor state. Maybe they suggest they should go back, but Omori also refuses to do that, knowing he’s not going to make the way back… and the way forward neither. He loses his balance again little after and is too weak to get up again. He punches the ground out of frustration. It is undeniable that he’s dying and, above all, unnable to grant Sunny’s wish. Omori interprets his state as being erased. If he cannot follow his purpose then he has to be replaced. It’s fair, many times he has replaced his peers for not doing their job correctly and now it’s his turn. Around here is revealed that it’s been 14 years since he move, as omori reminices all his efforts in keeping the truth hidden. His last thoughts are about hoping his replacement will last longer and will be able to bring Sunny home.

A short epilogue narrated in the style of a newspaper tells about the finding of a corpse near the highway, belonging to a man without any sort of identification. No one has any idea of what he was doing there or where he was going, and they would never be able to guess, because the highway that Omori was following didn’t even lead to Faraway Town.

As a final note, the narrator would have pointed that, even if Omori had somehow managed to get to Faraway, the people that could have recognized him had long left the town. The home Sunny wanted to go back to were his friends, so Omori’s mission was pretty much impossible for him to accomplish from the start.

And that’s would have been it.

Unlike my other shelved ideas, I had this one fully planned out. But I shelved this one because I lost interest in it and I’m also starting to think that the premise is kinda stupid and nonsensical. I just don’t really like it anymore. And there’s other stuff I wanna write so yeah, I doubt I’ll finish this one.

My only regret is that I liked the title a whole lot… it’s a shame I won’t get to use it :(

[hellotherekenobi]

THIS COULD NOT POSSIBLY BE LOVE... RIGHT?

Eddie Munson x Mayfield!reader

Written for the incredible @megmeg-chan “this is for you,” I say while throwing it in your direction but my aim is bad and it smashes straight through the glass window which I will not be paying for.

Summary: You and Eddie have never really gotten along, but that’s what makes it fun. What isn’t fun, though, is when those feelings begin to blossom into something else, and what exactly you intend to do about it.

CW/TW: fem!reader; Dual!POV; mentions of household abuse/alcohol/drugs; Season 3 finale spoilers; slight canon variation; a twinge of angst.

Word Count: 12,460 (I don’t know what happened.)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There were a lot of bad things in your life. Many came from personal experience—and the occasional mistake made on your part—but the worst of the batch came from the blended family arrangement which your mother threw you and your sister into. There was no stopping Susan Mayfield when she puts her mind to something, and so you and Max had to bite your tongue when she tied the knot to Neil Hargrove, and in effect his son, Billy, became your step-brother.

He wasn’t always a mean guy. At least, not when you had all met the first time. He was cocky, a bit too into himself, but he wouldn’t lash out. Turns out that getting two unwanted step-sisters can turn a person bitter. Neil was no sunshine human, either. But that was something Max and you had picked up on straight away and why you both begged your mother to change her mind. Look where it got you both; ass first into Hawkins, sharing a home with the last two people you’d ever want to call family.

Max and you tried hard to calm the waters, and you’d be the one with a mark on your arm to prove it. It made the two of you pretty reclusive to other people. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to make friends, but the choice wasn’t entirely up to you anymore. It was only a side effect of how rotten both of your attitudes became, though. Sure, you’d get mad over some things—all sisters have their arguments from time to time—but it wasn’t just that; frustrations simmered into a rage. Max was always grumpy, always defiant. You, in turn, lost most of your patience. But at the end of the day, the two of you knew that it was you both against the other four.

Life at home only crumbled more when Billy was victim to the Starcourt Mall fire and Neil wasn’t a great family head after that (not as if he were one, to begin with.) His work ethic crumbled and there was not enough money in your wallet from your part-time job to help the situation, so in the end, you all had to give up the house and into a dodgy neighborhood is how living thereafter went. Maybe, too, Max was affected a lot by it, but she stopped talking to you like how she used to and you could see the way she tensed whenever the fire was mentioned. It definitely hasn’t been an easy life living in Hawkins, Indiana.

To make matters worse, you were situated in the trailer park which welcomed all sorts of perverted drunks and drug dealers. It was not the idealized home living, and it definitely wasn’t sunny California, but it was a roof over your heads, so, in the end, you couldn’t really complain about that.

If there was one thing that was going to send you into a rage, though, then it was your neighbor who would barrel into the trailer park close to two in the morning, drifting on two wheels in his run-down van. Twice now—twice—he’s almost run into your letterbox, and so help whoever the people of Hawkins pray to, you swear one of these days you’re going to tug the letterbox straight out of the ground and bash him over the head with it. Have you spoken more than two words to him? No. You haven’t even spoken one. But that long-haired freak irritated you in a way no one else ever could.

It was just his luck and his fault, you tell yourself, that he happened to introduce himself on a day where you had gone through hell at work, then met a lopsided and foul-mouthed drunk in the living room who gave you crap for not mowing the lawn like he had asked you to. He never actually did ask, though. So when you’re tugging the lawn mower out from behind the house and dragging it beside the driveway, it’s fair to say that you were not in a bright and happy mood to officially meet the guy who woke you up with screeching tires nearly every morning. Restless sleep schedule, meet the prick responsible.

He had offered his name when you tugged at the pull-string with no luck, and you just shot him an exhausted glare as you ignored him and tried again. “I’m Eddie Munson, from across the road,” he said, gesturing to the lack of road between your house and his campervan.

No response and another tug finally started the damn lawn mower, and you shoved it forward to start hacking away at the grass that was hardly needing a cut at all. A fact proven to you quickly was how he didn’t give up easily, and he walked along the footpath right where you were mowing down a somewhat straight line, kicking his shoes against the pavement.

“I’m just wondering, you know since the guys are coming around and I don’t want to disappoint,” he shot you a toothy smile, making your skin crawl. “They’d appreciated some beers and I’m not getting my cheque til the next gig. If you could lend a helping hand?”

Beer. This asshat was asking you for beer, or money if you didn’t happen to have any on you. What a leech!

“No offense, Munson, but there’s no way in hell that I’m helping you with your asinine party,” sighing when you reach the edge enough to turn the corner, you show him the clear distaste on your face at not even mentioning him by his first name. “You better not be pounding music until two in the morning. Your van already makes enough noise as is.”

Making a sound, something between ‘woah’ and ‘hey’, he raises his hands in defense, never failing to show you a smile. “I’m not that bad a driver, I’ll have you know.”

“You’re hardly eligible for a license and you’ve nearly knocked over my letterbox with those driving skills of yours,” you wave a hand over at the aforementioned letterbox, quickly slapping your hand back on the steering. “One of these days you’re going to run someone over, and I swear if that someone is my sister then—”

“Okay! Jeez, you’re a real worrywart, you know that? I promise nothing will happen to your sister.”

You huff out a “Yeah,” as you continue mowing down a line of grass, fingers wrapped around the steering so tightly that your knuckles turn white, irritated by the sound of this guy’s voice alone, not to mention his insane request. Hell, asking for sugar would have been more polite than overtly trying to raid your fridge. It’s not like Neil would give away any of his beer for free, anyway. He’s practically got his lips stuck to every bottle in the same way he’s got them stuck to your mom and—to all things clean and pure—you don’t exactly want to think about that.

He’s still standing there on the footpath, in the corner of your eye you can see him with two hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket with that stupid smile still on his face. You give him about ten seconds to change his mind and walk away before you become furious again, sighing loudly as you turn to lean on the steering and shoot him another glare.

“You deaf or something? I’m not giving you any beer.”

It sparks another type of frustration through you at seeing his lips curl up even more in amusement. “I never got your name.”

Punk. Jackass. Bonehead. You don’t know what it is but he’s seriously tipping you over the edge right now. “Get lost,”

He chuckles, and you want to scream. “Alright then, Hargrove.”

He should be thinking it a miracle that you haven’t already rolled this lawn mower over him and shredded him into tiny little pieces, and honestly, you don’t know why you manage some sense of self-control when you answer him. “Mayfield.”

“What?” He asks, not even flinching in the slightest under your glare.

“I’m a Mayfield.”

“Right,” he rocks on his heels and you don’t miss the way his eyes shoot to the letterbox with the surname he had called you by written clearly on its side. Maybe you have more reason to rip it out than just your annoying neighbor. “Til next time, then.”

“Whatever,” you huff, shaking your head in annoyance and turning back around to carry on with mowing the stupid lawn.

That was the last you had hoped to ever see him, even with the statement he made. You were standoffish and rude, so anyone else—literally any other human being in Hawkins—would have taken the hint and left you alone, but Eddie Munson isn’t like anyone else and he definitely isn’t normal.

As you had expected, music was blaring loud into the early morning from his campervan, and even though there were a few angry neighbors pounding on his door every so often, he never turned the volume down. When you had tossed over for the umpteenth time in your bed, you had heard his chuckle followed by “I apologize for waking you, ma’am” which not only sent your blood boiling but apparently also hers when the sound of a limb hitting his screen door was then heard and angry footsteps stomping away, then the music was promptly shut off.

You awoke groggy the next morning but trudged out to work regardless after dropping your sister off at school. Thank goodness you’re out of that place. High school in California wasn’t terrible and in a way, Hawkins isn’t that bad either, but transferring schools was always messy. As soon as you walked the stage in that graduation cap, it was like hammering the final nail in the coffin. Not that working the laundromat was any better, but hey, it beats homework any day.

It was the middle of the week when one of the washing machines went bust on you, but it was hardly your fault—you had told the customer three times to check the pockets of their clothes for loose change and though they were adamant that it was all emptied, a coin still got suck in the indent of the drum and caused the whole machine to rattle to a screeching halt. Running to it didn’t save it any quicker and neither did kicking the door do any good, but you were already functioning off of cheap coffee and the painkillers you found in the kitchen cupboard before you were bolting down the driveway this morning, so it’s fair to say that you weren’t in a great mood.

Just his luck again, it seems.

When you slammed your palm against the door release button and a pool of water poured out when it opened, the last thing you wanted to hear was someone laughing at you. Granted, getting your shoes soaked was not top of the list either, but the very last thing you wanted was for it to be Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson who was laughing at you, hand on his chest with a basket of clothes hung under his arm from where he stood on the other side of the room, clearly having just come in since his clothes were still dry.

Tonight was not the night to get pissed off by him again. Groaning, you roll your eyes at him—out of instinct or spite, you’re not entirely sure—and step back from the mess with a squelch to your step.

“Need a hand?” He asks, having crossed the distance when you weren’t exactly paying attention, causing you to throw your gaze at him.

“No, thank you,” the words leave your lips in a huff. “I don’t want your help, Munson.”

He leans on one leg, tilting his head to the side. “You really don’t like me, do you?”

Would a punch to the stomach be a good enough answer for you? It’s tempting, but you resist the urge. “Just—it’s not a good night, okay?”

A hum vibrates from the base of his throat and he lowers the basket of clothes to the floor, peering into the opening of the now broken washing machine. “Let me guess, coin got stuck?”

“Maybe,” you glare at him, arms crossed.

He chuckles. “I’ve done that a few times.”

“Oh, great,” so glad to know his listening skills were as low as your patience. “Did you end up paying for it, too? This is gonna get pinned on me.”

“You’re right,” he shrugs, boiling your blood further. “Can’t help with that, but I’m a wizard with a mop.”

For about two seconds you’re rethinking your entire assumption about this guy, totally ready for a change of heart like you’re going through a metaphysical conversion, but he follows his comment with a wink in your direction and you’re balling your hand into a fist at your side. Why I oughta...!

“Don’t you have laundry to do?” the menace comes across as weak but you’re trying your best to shove him away.

Eddie grabs his basket and hoists it against his hip, nodding. “Can’t say I didn’t offer to help.”

“Can’t say I ever need your help, Munson.”

The sound of his chuckle walks away with him as he goes over to a vacant washing machine to load it with his clothes. You’re behind the counter and back again before he’s finished with a mop in your hand, sighing as you wipe the water from the floor. The machine door thumps shut and whirls to life, giving some sound to the silence the two of you were living in, aside from the occasional sloshing from the wet mop against the tiles that could probably do with a wash while you’re here but you’re too exhausted already.

Your fury is wiped away with the water, especially since Eddie isn’t saying a word. Risking a glance over your shoulder, you watch him lean back on his palms against the bench in the middle, eyes focused on watching the clothes spin around and around inside the machine. His foot is tapping against the tiles and if you were to step closer then you’re sure you’d hear him humming a tune, but the thought of it completely evaporates when his attention shifts to you and you’re quick to look back around like you hadn’t been caught staring at him. Please, don’t let that go to his head.

If he was going to say something then you’re unaware of it, having rushed behind the counter again to wring out the dirty mop and go back to what you were doing before you had a broken washing machine on your plate. One minute you’re focused on your job, the next your head is springing up at the sound of the front door opening and shutting and you’re sitting there in this awkward bubble of wondering if someone just came in or if Eddie just left. When you’re peeking around to see if he’s still on the bench and find it empty, your question is answered. But for a moment you’re not so sure that you feel the relief you convince yourself that you feel about his absence.

Forty-five minutes later and a hand shoved into the washing machine that broke down in an attempt to fix it, Eddie is back in the laundromat and taking his clothes from the machine that finished its cycle a few minutes before he came back. He doesn’t look your way or say a word when he swaps the clothes into the dryer at his side, and you stifle a groan when your fingers lose the coin you had tried to take from where it’s stuck inside the drum.

You’re pushing forward on both knees to stick your head into the washing machine, hoping for better eyesight to get the blasted coin that you were fishing for an embarrassing amount of time now. Not as embarrassing as when you suddenly hear Eddie’s voice behind you and your head jolts up at the sound, banging into the drum harshly, and the “oof” that follows when you’re backing out with a hand on the top of your head.

“Sorry,” he laughs, and you’re about ready to really hit him this time. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No,” you grumble, rubbing at the sore spot. “I was a bit busy, remember?”

You’re biting words at him now, trying to sound sturdy without looking him in the eye since you’ve still knelt on the floor as he towers above you. Face to face he’s not so scary, but give him the height advantage and that shag rug on his head makes for a pretty intimidating figure.

“I told you to let me have a try,” as if hearing your thoughts from before, he’s squatting down to your level and then raising a hand when you’re opening your mouth to speak. “I know, you don’t want my help. That’s why I’m not asking.”

“Well, I don’t need it, either. It’ll be just my luck that one of those rings of yours will come off and break this thing even more.”

They weren’t tiny at all; they were bulky, silver rings on practically each of his fingers. From this angle, you can make out the shape of a pig for one of them. If that thing gets stuck and he blames you for it, there’s going to be more than just water getting mopped up off the floor tonight.

“Yee of little faith. I’m very dexterous, I’ll have you know.” He wiggles his fingers for show, though it doesn’t give you much confidence at all.

“I’m surprised you even know that word.”

“Move over—” and he’s pushing an arm in front of you, nearly tipping you over as he squeezes into the space between you and the open door of the washing machine, sticking his hand inside as he peers over his own reach.

A scoff comes from you when he shimmies, having you knock your palm against his side and push yourself away from him, and he completely takes that as an opportunity to kneel at the space you once were to fish for the coin with toddler-like intensity. There’s a clatter and then a scrape, then he’s cheering happily before promptly hitting his head against the drum on his way out, which you more than heartily laugh at.

“Now we’re even,” you smile, taking the coin from his fingers extended out to you.

Despite the pain he felt, he’s shining that self-righteous smile at you. “Told you I could do it.”

“Yeah, I’m so impressed, Munson.”

“I’m your hero. Admit it, Mayfield.”

It shouldn’t please you as much as it does to hear him call you by the surname that you prefer or the fact that he remembers to do so in the first place. “That’ll be the day.”

Two eyebrows raise against his forehead, quite quickly. “I just fixed your problem—”

“You got the coin. The machine is still broken.”

“Not even a thank you,” he shakes his head, muttering the sentence under his breath.

Rolling your eyes, you push yourself up by the knees to stand on your feet and Eddie follows a moment later, but you’re already back behind the counter before he can say anything more. He ends up back on the bench and you two stay as far away from each other as possible for the next thirty minutes until the dryer is buzzing and he’s scooping out all the clothes. There’s a clatter a moment later, followed by an annoyed groan, and you watch as Eddie grumbles to himself and begins shoving all of the clothes into the basket before stomping his way over to you.

A ringed hand slaps against the countertop and he’s flicking the hair out of his eyes. “You still got that coin on you?”

Furrowing your brows at him, you hesitate. “Why?”

“I need to do another load.”

You glance back at the basket full of clothes on the bench, but it’s not like you can make out anything from here anyways. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” it’s clear he’s got less patience than when he first started.

“Because it’s not your money.”

“But I got it out of the washing machine,”

“Doesn’t mean you can use it.”

“Come on, Mayfield!”

A beat of silence, then. “No.”

He’s spinning on his heel at that, completely showing off his irritation like a little kid would, and marches over to the bench to snatch the basket in his hands. Another spin and he’s looking back at you. “Can’t you return the favor?”

With a sigh, you lean over the counter. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” He’s frustrated for a moment before running a hand through his hair. “It’s just—my shirt shrunk, okay? I need to throw it back in.”

“Wait,” you hold a hand up, mostly for yourself because if he’s insinuating what you think he is then you’re about to burst out laughing. “You want to put your shirt back in the washing machine to... resize it?”

“Yeah,�� he says it so obviously like it’s common knowledge.

Curling a smile at him is hard to hold back. “That’s not how that works, Munson.”

He’s standing there a moment—caught with an expression between confusion and embarrassment—looking almost like a statute that you could take pity on but it’s late and he’s annoyed you for the past two hours, so you can’t find it within yourself to care much. With a shake of his head, he comes back to life and quickly makes his way for the front door, swinging it open and bolting out in the same action.

As soon as the door closes shut, you’re laughing your heart out.

─────── ⋯ ───────

He felt so bloody stupid for how he acted and he can’t even blame it on being tired since he knows that you know that he comes home at two o’clock nearly every morning. It would be great if he could say that he was exhausted or that he didn’t have any coffee (not that he drinks that much, anyway) but he couldn’t think of an excuse fast enough, so turning heel and running seemed like the best bet.

You already don’t think that highly of him, that much was clear, and he’s sure his confusion with the washing only added the cherry on top. He was doing so well, too. He was trying to win your favor. Only a little bit, though! Because Eddie Munson absolutely despises you. He knew you were a Hargrove before you said a word to each other— information spreads fast in a small town—and he wouldn’t be caught dead spending time with someone related to Billy, but that was before you told him that you were a Mayfield. So your mother married into the family. Guess it makes sense, and that eases his worries a little bit since the first time he saw you he swears his heart stopped.

But no way, man. He’s not falling for that. A girl like you with a smile like yours means danger and he’s not the idiot who goes headfirst into a fight he’s clearly outmatched by. Besides, none of your interactions have been very pleasant. Sure, it seemed like the two of you was getting along somewhat at the laundromat but you both still bickered, and the sarcastic comments and degrading remarks never faulted after that. Eddie would sometimes catch you on the way to work, casting you a smile-laced “Hey, neighbor!” which you either glared at him for or told him to go to hell, but he can’t deny that your response only made him smile wider.

One morning it had been you that took the first step in the routine interaction. He was stepping out of his van when he noticed you out the corner of his eye hanging clothes on the line and as soon as he turned your way, you had stuck your tongue out at him and he, ever the gentleman, shot you the bird—and he would be lying if he said that his heart didn’t race the second he heard you laugh, smiling at him like he had told you the funniest joke in the world.

Yeah, you both still hated each other’s guts but a part of him didn’t hate you at all. Even though you still would mock him about his shrunken clothes. That, in all honestly, still pissed him right off.

As soon as Eddie closes the door to the campervan, his uncle is sat by the kitchen countertop with a mug of coffee in his hand, and the usual hello is replaced with a raised brow. “Who’s that, then?”

For a split second, Eddie has no idea what his uncle is talking about until he shrugs his head over at the window which clearly shows your house on the other side of the park.

“Oh,” it only dawns on him now that he’s never spoken about you to his uncle before, so he does his best to explain that you’re just their neighbor, nothing more.

“Right—” Wayne takes a slow sip of his coffee. “You sure about that?”

Furrowed brows don’t even begin to describe the look on Eddie’s face. “What do you mean?”

“You came in with quite the smile on your face.”

Two fingers drum against the mug, settling some noise in compensation for how Eddie just stands there like a cassette player spinning backward, rewinding to spring back to life. “I had a good day.”

His uncle gives him a simple nod, going back to drinking his coffee. Another beat of not moving an inch and then Eddie is making his way toward his bedroom, only to be stopped, shoes squeaking against the floor, when his uncle perks up with a: “So you fancy her, then?”

He might as well have plugged his guitar into the amp and turned the volume up full blast since the shriek that comes out of his mouth is unintentionally loud. “What!? No way. No way in hell.”

He’s swinging his arms in front of him, palms outstretched, almost in a shooing motion. How could his uncle be so blind to it all? Like he hadn’t just flicked you the middle finger a couple minutes ago. Either all those nights at the plant are getting to him, or his uncle isn’t drinking coffee right now.

“How come?” it’s the most innocent question ever, but under the circumstances, Eddie can feel his blood begin to boil.

“Because,” he starts with ferocity, almost fuming. “She’s a pain in the ass! Always making fun of me and she’s rude and—don’t get me started on the first time we met.” there’s a scoff to his words as he leans from one leg to the other. “That’s only half of it.”

One brow raises against the creases on Wayne’s forehead. “Go on, then.”

Right. Okay. He wants to know more. Well, he’s got more. He’s got a whole trunk load of reasons why this is totally absurd.

Eddie’s spinning on his heel, pacing up and down the living room. “She’s ungrateful,” he raises a finger for show, beginning his count. “I helped her at work and she didn’t even thank me.”

“Ah,” Wayne mutters, curiously looking down into his mug. “You helped her at work.”

“Well,” the breath all but leaves his lungs at that. “I mean, I was trying to be nice.”

“Because you dislike her so much?”

“That’s not—no. It’s just—she’s stubborn!” another finger up, jumping back into his list before his uncle can say any more. “She’s irritating. She doesn’t even like Dio—!”

Wayne chuckles. “That’s a deal-breaker.”

“It is,” the response sounds childish but Eddie is determined to convince his uncle that his feelings for you are more built on animosity than anything else.

Maybe convince isn’t the right word, but.

“You know what this sounds like to me?” His uncle places his mug down on the counter, shooting Eddie a pointed look.

“No!” Eddie is up on the couch, his sneakers sinking into the cushions as he directs a finger at his uncle, almost like he was telling him to stay put. “I do not like her!”

As if to say now you’re being a bit ridiculous, Wayne just looks at his nephew with two hands on his hips and that raised brow of his. It’s almost a scolding look that a parent would give their child for throwing a temper tantrum, but isn’t that what Eddie is doing anyway?

“Come on, son,” Wayne waves a hand over at Eddie, gesturing for him to step off of the couch. When he does, the hand goes straight onto his shoulder. “It ain’t a bad thing if you like her. What’s really bothering you?”

He might as well have tugged open the floodgates as there are a hundred reasons why Eddie cannot begin to explain, let alone fathom, why he’s so worked up about this, why he’s so adamant about his feelings for you, or lack thereof. At least, that’s what he’s been telling himself. The heat in his chest when you had laughed before says otherwise, though.

“What if she really hates my guts?” Eddie asks almost sheepishly, troubled eyes peering over at his uncle. “What if that’s all there is?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

Right. There’s only one way to screw up whatever it is that Eddie Munson has with you.

─────── ⋯ ───────

Seeing Eddie around after that night was less laborious and a lot more fun. Sure, he definitely still irked you unlike any other (he might as well run first place in the prize of who can piss you off the quickest since clearly, he was the proficient) but after the laundromat incident, you’ve had more of an advantage in teasing him. It was like a trump card; he would throw an offhand comment your way and you would mention only one word of what had happened and he would be out of your hair within seconds. It was fantastic. If only that worked for other people.

Your week had been a long one working your shifts and then the needless errands that awaited you at home (cutting the damn lawn again when it was already short), and then having to tend to the usual drunken brute of a step-father when Max was off who-knows-where with her friends and your mom nowhere in sight. You were at your breaking point by the time Neil passed out on the couch, a few beer cans laid on the carpet and the stain that was no doubt going to form from the drink spilled there. Being the only one to clean up was especially irritating you today.

So, what better thing to do than to go see Eddie Munson when you’re a hair’s breadth away from totally snapping?

It took roughly thirty seconds for the campervan door to swing open when you had knocked your knuckles against it, showing you a clearly disgruntled neighbor with messy hair and baggy clothes.

“I’d say this is an honor but I would be lying,” Eddie speaks, leaning against the doorframe.

There’s a pout on your lips when you reply. “Aw, are you grumpy because I woke you up from your nap time?”

Crossing his arms against his chest, he lets out a sigh. “Is there a reason you’re here or are you just in the mood to suck the life out of someone?” He’s arching your way before you can open your mouth to speak, grinning. “Or maybe you just can’t keep away from me. Huh, Mayfield?”

Your frustrated attitude goes from a seven to a nine just by that comment alone, always finding a new level of anger when he teases you like that. You want to slap that stupid grin right off of his face. “The only thing keeping to you is that horrible smell.”

You could say it plainly—you reek of cigarettes and weed—but a ridiculous part of you doesn’t want to step on an eggshell like that. Not that he would probably care, yet you hold yourself back from saying it regardless. Instead, you stare at him, rocking back on your heels a bit, hand wrapped around the strap of the backpack you have slung over your shoulder. It’s like waiting for the fish to take the bait, standing there in the awkward silence of you expecting a reaction and him not giving you a response.

Finally, when you think this moment can’t stretch out any longer, you huff annoyedly at him. “You gonna invite me in or what?”

His brows raise almost as high as your anger meter, all of a sudden stammering on words as he awkwardly steps to the side, pushing the door out further for you to walk up the steps and inside the campervan, brushing past him by the width of the doorframe. You could say it looks exactly how you expected it, but your house isn’t in much better shape. At least here the living room light isn’t flickering every five seconds.

When you turn around to face him, he’s got a hand on the back of his neck, looking very much out of place even though it’s really you who doesn’t fit in here.

“I won’t take up too much of your time, don’t worry,” the words come out with the bitterness you usually reserve for him, but you’re honest in what you say. The way he’s acting is telling you that you overstepped that invisible boundary by asking to come inside.

Raking a hand through the backpack you brought, you take hold and throw the plastic laundry bag at his chest and he’s catching it with an oomph, two hands saving it from falling to the floor.

“You left your dry cleaning at the laundromat,” you explain, gesturing to the bag in his arms. “I was almost tempted to sell them.”

“Right,” he clears his throat and within an instant, he’s back into chitchat mode. “Not that anyone else could pull it off. I look amazing in these clothes.”

You’re chuckling a little too lightly at that, speaking before really thinking first. “I know,”

If that lightbulb above your heads burst and shattered, it would be less shocking than what just came out of your mouth. Eddie looks at you with wide eyes, a slow smile creeping up his features and now you’re stammering. You’re about to pull an Eddie Munson move and run straight out the door, but you’re far too stubborn for that.

“No one else has the freak look quite like you, Munson.” Rolling your eyes, you hope it’s enough to deter him. “Don’t let it get to your head. Your hair is big enough as it is.”

Smooth.

He nods at you, though he doesn’t look convinced. “I suppose a thank you is in order for you returning my clothes to me,” he says, that smile never leaving his lips.

“It would be the decent thing to do, yes.”

He hums but doesn’t say anything more, leaving the insinuation out in the open. He could stomp his foot down on the carpet and you’d be less surprised by his attitude.

“Nothing?” You shrug at him, tilting your head as you wait for the gratitude he had mentioned.

He presses his lips together, turning the laundry bag in his hands. At last, he rests, a second later shaking his head. “I’m just taking a page out of your book.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes at him with a sour tone in your voice. “You’re really not letting that go, are you?”

“Nope.” the ‘p’ comes off more enunciated, shoving you into a similar situation from when you hadn’t thanked him for getting that coin out of the washing machine.

“Yeah, well, I’m surprised you didn’t shrink this batch. How’s that Hellfire crop-top working for you?”

Groaning, he’s chucking the laundry bag onto the couch nearby. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you let your hands slap against your thighs. “You deserve it.”

“I’m almost touched by that,” he places a ringed hand on his chest for dramatic effect and you have to bite your tongue to not laugh genuinely at the comedy of it.

Instead, you distract yourself by looking around the room more, not hiding the way your eyes glance across everything in sight. Some dirty dishes, sure, and a mess on the floor by the couch but still it’s got a homey sense to it. More than your own home. It’s not exactly the word you would use to describe it. When you’re glancing back at Eddie, you find his eyes have never left their place; still looking at you, somewhat gentler than what you’re used to. Those stupid big brown eyes of his, you could swim in them.

When there’s a swell in your chest at the way neither of you is looking away, you feel the flight instinct kick in. “I’ll get out of your hair now.”

You’re turning on your heel when he chuckles. “You love my hair.”

“I hate your hair,” you lie, shooting a look at him over your shoulder.

He leans one hand on the doorframe as you approach the door, standing over you and smiling into the space between you both, or the lack thereof. “And I hate your lips.”

The air you suck in through your nose could have lifted a damn hot air balloon. An insult you’re used to, a tease, sure, but was that him flirting? Your brain is scrambling at the very essence of it and that tiny hint of a smirk on his face is no help.

Punk. Jackass. Bonehead. You’re reverting back to the insults you gave him on the first day you met, trying to replace the words that are clouding your mind right now. He’s so close and his voice was so low, you think you’re about startled into a paralyzed stance. All you can do is look up at him, completely speechless.

“You can say such horrible things with them,” he finally finishes, nudging open the campervan door.

The light washing in from outside kicks you back to life, shooting him a glare. “Wait until you really piss me off.”

“I have a feeling I’m getting there.”

You’re down the steps as fast as you can, throwing up the middle finger to him when he shouts out at you to have a good day. Never have you ever felt so irritated at Eddie in the entire time you’ve known him. Never once has your blood boiled further than just loathing for the guy, not ever trespassing into forbidden territory—into even the notion of... interest—since you swore from the start that he was bad news and a nuisance rolled into one, and all you wanted to do was stay the hell away from him.

No, not ever did you think you would actually enjoy being so close to him. It’s bugging you right down to your bones and you want this gone, whatever it is. Whatever the hell Eddie Munson just did to you, you want it eradicated.

Obviously, spending more time away from home seemed like the right option, seeing as he was only across the road from you. It was all an excuse—getting lunch out, spending extra time with friends, working longer shifts at the laundromat even though it was highly possible that you would see him again—and if you weren’t so hyper-focused on being everywhere that he isn’t, you might have gotten away with it. But you forget how well your sister knows you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask her, watching her crossed arms and aloof expression sitting across from you. “You’ve not even touched your milkshake.”

“What’s gotten into you?” She asks, straight to the point. Ever the Mayfield.

“Nothing,” you shift awkwardly in your seat and she picks up on it, raising a brow at you. “I just want some quality bonding time with my sister. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” she says as if she actually believes it, sitting forward to play with the straw in her drink. “This is, like, the third time you’ve brought me here.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” Max furrows her brows, stopping herself from continuing her sentence. A moment later she sighs, staring down at the table. “It’s just... I can always tell when something’s wrong.”

That older sister’s guilt kicks in at seeing her almost deflate in the seat. “Nothing’s wrong. I promise.”

She eyes you from behind her drink, taking a sip and nodding contently. She stirs it once, then glowers. “It’s not that Eddie guy, is it?”

It’s so unexpected to hear his name come from your own little sister that you choke on the milkshake you’re currently drinking, hitting your chest a few times as you calm down. “What? Why would you say that?”

How do you even know him? That’s what you really want to ask.

“I saw you leave his trailer the other day,” she explains, like the little spy she is. “You looked pretty angry.”

“Oh, that,” you give it some kick, hoping it’ll convince her. “I was just settling something from the laundromat and he was being a prick. Same old, same old.”

“He didn’t want to pay or something?”

“Well—wait, what do you mean you saw me? I thought you went out?”

Like a deer caught in headlights, she stammers against the question put to her. “We were just—”

“We?” pushing the milkshake away, you lean forward. “Who’s we?”

“No one! I said me.”

“Liar. That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Oh, like your story sounds any better? When does Eddie not pay for his dry cleaning?”

“How would you know that?”

“Dustin talks about him a lot,” she shrugs combatively, scrunching her face up. “Some dumb D&D thing they do after school.”

“Is that who you were with?”

“What?” She shakes her head, glancing off to the side. “No, no. It’s hard to explain.” When you stare her down, she crosses her arms again. “It’s a game we do sometimes. I mean, we’ve really only done it the once and...”

Something changes right in the last few words she speaks. As if something washes over her, like a cloud, she goes completely silent. Just as much as she knows you, you know her too. Right now you can tell that whatever this game is that she was talking about has brought up a bad memory, something she really doesn’t want to get into and you wouldn’t force it out of her either.

“It’s fine. It’s just—” giving her a comical look, a smile on your lips. “Stupid boys.”

That cheers her up a bit, you think. Max chuckles, shaking her head and then reaching for the milkshake in front of her. “Yeah, stupid boys.”

She offers you a smile and drinks from the straw, and the two of you spend the afternoon much more comfortably after that.

Things were going rather well, especially since Eddie hadn’t turned up at the laundromat for some time, but the feeling of vanishing from his life was starting to fizzle out. Truly, isn’t it what you had told your sister; that all it was that made you angry at Eddie was that he was being just another stupid boy? In the end, he hadn’t offended you. It was just different from anything he had said. Part of you wanted to knock on his door again, but a more prominent part of you told you to hold back. Wouldn’t want him thinking you actually cared or anything. As if.

You see him next when you’re on your way to pick Max up from her friend’s house—El was her name—and you’re meeting a frizzy-haired Eddie in front of your letterbox, his head tilted to the side as he peers into the gap. At the expense of seeming too happy to see him, you go in for the first quip.

“Stealing people’s love letters again, are we, Munson?” the sound of your voice has him stepping back with a jolt, looking at you like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. It’s almost the same thing, especially as he’s shoving something into his back pocket.

His startled expression shifts into the usual scowl he wears whenever he sees you. “I would but I noticed you don’t ever get any. Huh, Mayfield?”

“What do you want?” with an eye roll, which was practically a gesture made for him alone, you cross your arms over your chest.

Back to the flustered Eddie you met in the laundromat, he hooks two fingers into the loops on his ripped jeans, leaning back a fraction. “Nothing.”

“Nothing, huh?” you don’t buy it for a second. “So, you’re just standing outside my house for fun?”

“No.” it’s a quick response, fired at you hotly. Then, after a moment, his defense deflates. “Here—”

You take the crumpled-up piece of paper from his extended hand, which looks like it is what he hid in the first place. Flattening it out with your fingers, you read over the black and red words scribbled in marker and the rough drawing of a drumkit in the center.

“Corroded Coffin,” you read aloud. “Is this an... invitation?”

He’s rocking back on his heels when you glance up at him. He doesn’t give you a verbal response, just nods his head at you after sucking in a breath. It’s so unlike what you were expecting after having not seen him for such a long time. You were ready for an insult, a snarky comment, anything that isn’t the shy neighbor on your front lawn right now.

“Okay,” you speak, not missing the way he completely lights up from that one word alone; back straighter, face composed. “I can fit this into my busy schedule for you, Munson.”

His mouth cracks a smile and then he’s suddenly stretching nonchalantly, feigning casualness. “No big deal. Just thought you might be interested.”

“Think about me a lot, then, do you?”

Just as you had hoped for, Eddie goes motionless. A taste of his own medicine. It humors you far too much but you’re already late as it is to pick up your sister and you don’t want to linger around long enough for Eddie to come back into the fight, so you walk over to where he stands and tap a hand against his shoulder twice, chuckling as you move ahead to get into your car and drive away.

By Saturday night, when the band was scheduled to play, you’ve come to realize that you haven’t exactly organized anything with Eddie. At least, not properly, anyway. Is he going to meet you there? Should you arrive early, just in case? Is this technically... a date? Only one of those questions is answered for you when you’re heading over to your car, and it’s by the absence of Eddie’s van. So, he was already gone. Okay. One down, two to go. Well, one to go. You’re going to drive there just before the actual gig starts.

There are not a lot of people when you arrive; a few drunks at their seats, talking loudly, and a much bigger crowd congregated at the bar rather than by the stage. The lights are on but there’s not a single person by their instrument yet, so you look around the faces you can make out in the dim lighting of this place to try and find Eddie. The most obvious identifiers are going to be bushy hair and, most likely, his Dio vest. Even with a scarce amount of people to look through, there’s no sight of the Munson. So, you just opt for getting a beer and sitting nearest to the exit, just in case. Knowing him, he’ll probably come barreling through the door midway through the performance, probably having stopped somewhere on the way.

It seems more likely than not that it’s what is going to happen since the band for tonight is now walking onto the stage and standing in their respective places. You’re not exactly paying them much mind, a little too deflated at the possibility that Eddie has stood you up as a payback for the way you treat him. But, then again, it would have to be a date in the first place for you to be stood up, and it’s not a date.

Right?

The tapping of a finger against the microphone stirs you awake from your thoughts, looking forward at the singer with messy hair and a black band tank over his chest, chains on his belt, and black eyeliner which you can see only when he flicks his fringe out of his face, and you about choke on your drink because what the hell kind of a joke is this?

“I’m Eddie,” he says into the mic, and your jaw drops open. He names the other members of his band and then introduces them as Corroded Coffin—exactly what was written on that makeshift invitation. Finally, after his eyes have been wandering the room for some time, he spots you in your corner and smiles wide. “Glad you could make it.”

It’s unspecific enough that it could be interpreted as being directed at the crowd, but you know, with his eyes on yours, that he was talking to you. You can’t ignore the way that sends a tingle through your body, but it only ramps up as soon as they start playing, and are you dreaming or drugged? Because they sound good.

If you’re more surprised by anything, though, then it’s not at how steady his voice sounds when he sings, or how expertly he plays the guitar, or how the drumbeat is so distinct that it almost vibrates through the floor, but it’s by the way no one is getting into it. The drunks in their seats are still talking, the people at the bar are sipping with slim to no excitement, and there’s an attendant mopping up a spilled drink by the left of the stage, totally indifferent to the music. You almost feel out of place to be bopping your head, genuinely enjoying the performance.

That’s why as soon as they finish their first song, you’re clapping and hollering from your seat, trying your best to, firstly, give them a supportive boost and, secondly, try to ignite the crowd a bit. It kind of works, since some people join in on the applause, but it’s still weak in its delivery. Nevertheless, you can tell Eddie appreciates the effort with the way he chuckles right into the microphone, thanking the crowd and introducing the next song. Just like the last one, this is just as good.

By the twelfth song, they end their gig with you standing on your feet in applause. The crowd that started has dispersed by this point and so, once again, you’re the most enthusiastic person in the room. Each member of the band says their thanks and Eddie is holding a hand up in your direction to tell you to wait for him, so you sit back down and finish your third beer.

He approaches you with a tap on the shoulder after about ten minutes of waiting and it’s probably the first time you flash him a wide smile in greeting. “Hey, you were great!”

Eddie smiles. “Thanks—ow!” he rubs at the sore spot on his arm where you just landed a hard punch. “What the hell was that?”

“That was for not telling me that you’re Corroded Coffin. Hell, Munson. I got the shock of my life when I saw you up on that stage.”

“Right, right,” his lips are pouted some as he still rubs his skin. “I was going to tell you but I just got a little... nervous, I guess.”

Honestly, you can understand why he felt that way. If you were in his shoes and went to invite your asshat neighbor to one of your gigs, you probably would have choked on the truth as well.

“Turns out you had nothing to be worried about,” you try to console him, brushing your thumb against the area you had hit him, now feeling a bit bad about having done it. “I’m not that much of a jerk, you know?”

“Yeah, well, you are most of the time.”

The comment is dripping in offense but you hardly take it literally with how Eddie moves his hand slightly downward, his fingers brushing up against yours. That tingle you felt earlier in the night rushes through you again at the discreet touch, skin on skin. He’s just as close as when he leaned on the doorframe in his campervan the other day, and you look at one another like you had in the living room. You can almost convince yourself that you’re right back there again as the noise of the bar and the people around you drown out into nothing, leaving just you and Eddie at this moment with his fingers against yours.

Somehow, you don’t want to pull away.

It happens, though, as one of his bandmates come around the corner, slapping Eddie hard on the back and jolting him out of his daze, saying that they should all go for drinks since one of them was already making a head-start at the bar.

“Oh,” the blonde boy suddenly blurts. “Sorry, man. Didn’t realize you were with your girl.”

A jumbled noise makes its way out of your mouth, almost mimicking the sound that Eddie makes. Both of you are completely stunned at the suggestion with a mixture of words trying to force their way out into some kind of explanation, though it’s all muddled.

Finally, you manage a coherent reply. “Never.”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie waves his hand, offering you a shaky smile as if he were apologizing for his friend’s behavior. “We hate each other.”

“Completely,”

“Right,” the boy looks down at your hand still on Eddie’s arm and you’re quick to remove it. “I totally believe that.”

He’s back to basics, which happens to be alcohol before you can try and assure him again that you and Eddie are not an item, so, deflated, you stand there as they talk some and then he’s thanking you for coming to watch them play and heading over to the bar.

Eddie turns back to face you, slightly blushful. “Do you want to join us? I’ll pay.”

His offer sounds tempting, especially since it’ll be free on your part, but you’ve already got three beers in you, have been more touchy than usual, and can feel yourself on the brink of crossing another type of invisible boundary if you say yes, so you politely shake your head, though you really want to stay.

“I should get back home to Max,” is your excuse. A rubbish one, too, since you know that she’s sleeping over at El’s for the weekend.

“Oh, okay,” he raises an arm behind his head, playing with the hair there. Is it just because he’s wearing a tank top or did he always have such defined arms? You’ve not noticed until now, and you could be ogling if you don’t quickly snap your attention back to his face.

“Thanks for inviting me, though. I had a lot of fun, actually.”

“Yeah, I’m really glad you made it.”

Your teeth sink down on your tongue before you can ask him what exactly his invitation means. Here you’ve been wondering if this was something more than just a hangout, or just because he wanted another seat filled at his gig. When there are butterflies swirling in your stomach for the much-anticipated answer, you decide not to even ask the question in the first place.

He’s incredibly polite about you leaving at what would be considered an early time of night, walking you to your car to make sure that you get there safely. You’re grateful for the assistance and tell him that you’ll see him soon, poking your tongue out at him when you drive out of the carpark, hoping that the playfulness of it will bury whatever kind of sentiment was left inside the building.

It’s not exactly a delightful atmosphere when you get home that night, walking in on Neil slamming down an empty can of beer onto the coffee table which is covered in a lot more as he watches the television. The door closing shut behind you is enough for him to turn toward the noise, his eyes slanting when he sees you standing there.

“Where the hell have you been?” He slurs, sticky like the dried alcohol in the carpet that you couldn’t clean up from the other day.

“Out,” is all you offer him, already making your way to your bedroom.

You should know not to mess with an irate drunk, let alone one that lives under the same roof as you. He’s down the hallway within seconds, grabbing you by the shoulder and turning you around harshly. You flinch at the touch, stepping backward.

“You give me a straight answer,” he barks, swaying on lazy legs.

Carefully, you keep your voice even when you speak. “Just in town with a friend.”

His face scrunches up, jaw rippling as he clenches it. “Fine. Whatever. Just make sure you clean this place up before your mother comes home from wherever the hell she’s run off to now.”

Nodding, you wait until he’s back in the living room before going inside your bedroom, letting out the breath that you were holding and shutting your eyes tightly. For a moment you were scared that he would press, pushing you to say the truth. That’s the last thing you want, especially since you don’t like Neil knowing the names of your friends or the places where you go. Not that Eddie even was such a thing—not really—but tonight, after he had treated you so considerately and Neil had treated you so unkind, you want nothing more than for Eddie Munson to be your friend.

He’s always going to be your annoying neighbor, though, and you’re always going to have this sort of rivalry between you two. You’ve never really thought about adapting the thing you both have into anything more, but every now and then you would like to get along with him rather than on just the odd occasion. You want to waste time at his place when you both have nothing better to do, or see if you can survive a ride in his van as he drifts down windy Hawkins’ roads, or actually give him a container full of sugar when he’s run out. The small things, that’s what you want. You get enough crap at home, you don’t need any more outside the front door.

But it might as well be your fate. Everyone changed after Billy’s death, even your mom. When once she was sweet and always there, now she’s hardly a good listening ear or even around to begin with. It’s one of those irks that fester over time when you never talk about it, keeping it buried in a dark place, that when you’re at your breaking point it’s far from pretty.

Truth be told, you couldn’t handle a second more of it. It’s shown in the way you ignore your mom when she walks through the door the next night, reeking of smoke, and her hair’s a mess, her makeup there but shoddy in its application. She doesn’t even notice that you’re in the kitchen until the plate you’re washing knocks into a cup when you place it on the drying rack beside the sink, but she doesn’t say hello, she just trudges over to the fridge and swings it open, soon grumbling about the lack of food in there.

“Can you make dinner?” She asks, hand on her forehead. “I’ve got such a pounding headache. I couldn’t lift a thing.”

“There’s medicine in the cupboard,” you speak, stacking another plate onto the rack. “And no, I can’t make dinner. Not tonight.”

She’s moving beside you, resting her hip against the countertop. “Why not?”

“Because—” you remind yourself not to get too upset too quickly, sighing as you dip a dirty spoon under the soapy water. “I’ve made dinner all this week, seeing as you’re never home anymore. There’s a frozen meal in the freezer. I have to go to work when I’m finished with the dishes.”

It’s like you’re the mother and she’s the child since she responds to your comment with a groan. “I can’t, baby. I need you to cook me something before you go.”

“I don’t have time.”

Her hand rakes through her hair, messing it up even more, before pulling out the cigarette box that was tucked into her shirt pocket, plucking out a cigarette and shoving it into her mouth. When she talks, it’s half muddled by the stick. “Where’re the damn matches?”

She starts to make a noise by throwing open various drawers and slamming them back shut when she can’t find what she’s looking for, and you want to shout at her to stop. Didn’t she say she had a headache, anyway?

“Did you go to the shop this week?” Her question isn’t gentle, it’s prodding. “There’s no matches, no milk. Come on—” she waves a hand at you annoyingly, and your furrow your brows as you don’t know what she wants. “I need cash.”

This must be a joke. It has to be. “I’m late for work.”

You decide to ignore her request completely, drying your hands with the dishtowel on the table and grabbing your keys from the small glass dish in the middle. Your mother sighs, practically stomping out of the kitchen and down the hallway, and you manage to catch her barging into your bedroom before you leave the house, sprinting over to where she is.

“What are you doing?” you watch as she throws your clothes around, looking under books and other things.

“Where’s that jar of yours?” She hisses, not caring about the mess she’s making.

That jar in question happens to be filled with the money you get from your shifts, which you’ve purposely put in there since you’re trying to save up. It’s tucked away inside a box, covered by blankets and shirts, underneath your bed, since you were more scared of Neil snatching a couple bills off of you, but never have you ever thought that your mom would be doing just that. And to think she was making her way here when you were about to walk out the door!

“Mom, stop it,” you’re picking up the clothes that she’s thrown onto the floor, though she’s just making a mess wherever she walks.

She’s huffing annoyance, pointedly looking at you. “It’s the least you can do.”

“The least I can do?” that does it; that’s what breaks the dam. You throw the clothes onto your bed, finally snapping. “I’m not supposed to be the mom of the house. That’s your job! The least you can do is actually be here. None of us even know where you go.”

“I’m here!” She opens her arms as if gesturing to her presence.

“No, you’re not! I’m here. I’m the one who cooks dinner every night. I’m the one who has to clean up after Neil when he’s drunk the whole fridge. I’m the one who drives Max to school and picks her up in the afternoon and who takes her out every once and a while. I’m the one who’s paying the damn rent! Just because Billy’s gone doesn’t mean you can be gone too. You’re supposed to be my mother, not a stranger!”

She’s silent after your outburst, looking caught between being offended and guilty. At last, she sighs. “Go to work.”

Biting back a sob, you run out into the hallway, flinging open the front door and slamming it shut behind you. Most likely you’ll come home to an empty jar if she keeps poking around your bedroom and all those crappy shifts will have been for nothing. You’re so overwhelmed by even speaking up about everything, even more so by how your mother reacted like she doesn’t even care, and you’re stumbling onto the grass, crying piteously.

It has to be this night of all nights that he’s home before two in the morning, hearing the squealing of the tires on Eddie’s van pull into the trailer park and skid to a stop by the campervan. In any other instance, you would have made a mad dash to your car or back inside the house to hide, but every sob that comes out of you is more painful than the last and so you find yourself not caring at all if he sees as you sit there, fists holding onto the grass like it’s supporting your weight.

There’s only a short moment of silence when you hear his van door shut, then suddenly his sneakers are pounding against the concrete as the sound approaches.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice so cautious but worried at the same time.

You shake your head, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. “I really can’t deal with you right now, Munson.” Go away is on the tip of your tongue, but the tears travel onto your mouth like they’re stopping you from saying it.

“Sure looks like you’re doing just great by yourself, huh?” He responds, kneeling beside you.

You really can’t handle this right now. You can’t manage the snarky neighbor facade that you’ve been playing so well for so long when that’s not what you want, or how you want to be. No, you want to be who you were before your mom married Neil, before you got everything thrown onto your shoulders when you can barely lift the weight on your own. Whoever could?

“Please,” it’s a whimper, something pathetic even to your own ears. “Just leave me alone.”

His hand reaches out to hold onto your arm firmly. “No,” he says, and you look him in the eye. “I’m not going to leave you like this.”

Shaking your head, a few more tears fall. “Why do you care?”

Coarse lips press into a thin line as he looks at you, his hand slowly moving down to your elbow. It seems he’s not going to give you an answer when he opens his mouth. “Come here,”

All the sense of it—all the annoying comments you have thrown at each other—go billowing away in the night air as you let him pull you up to stand on your feet, never looking away from him, from those stupid big brown eyes. He keeps his hand on your arm as he walks you across the distance to his campervan, holding the door open for you to walk inside first. You probably shouldn’t be putting so much trust in him as you are but even still, you know Eddie—better than you’d like to admit—and maybe it was ridiculous, but you do trust him.

What you shouldn’t be doing even more is missing your shift since you may not even have the cash on you when you come back, but what does it matter anymore? Your life hasn’t ever been perfect. California was the last time it felt like it was. At least, not until—

No. You won’t say it. You can’t.

Eddie’s sitting next to you on the couch, a hand on your knee. It’s a delicate touch, still careful. Still inches away from that invisible line you both dance around. “You don’t have to tell me. We can just sit here if you want.”

Shaking your head, you sniffle and wipe the tears above your lip. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just being stupid.”

“Normally I would agree with you but this doesn’t seem like nothing.”

Why does he have to read you like that? How come the one person you fight with the most happens to understand you better than anyone else?

“It’s my mom,” you start, feeling the words climbing up your throat like water rising in a well, just seconds away from spilling over. You spill your heart out with them, too. “Ever since Billy died in that fire, no one’s been the same. I haven’t either but—hell—at least I’m trying. It’s like she doesn't even care anymore.”

At the swell of your tears, Eddie squeezes your knee some, not interrupting you by saying something—which, knowing him, would probably be ridiculous—but giving you the assurance that he’s really listening to you and, though it seems impossible, that he cares about you, too.

“I feel like I’m the only one trying to keep the damn roof over our heads. I mean, Max, she’s only a kid, so I don’t expect her to be pushing the boulder with me but—” you sigh loudly, wiping your lip again. “It’s so exhausting.”

It’s crazy how much of yourself that you’re showing to him—Eddie Munson of all people. Had anyone told you that the guy who asked for beer and money on your front lawn would be the very same person that you’re holding your heart out to right now, you would have laughed like mad. But it is him you’re talking to, and you would choose him again the second time ’round.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” you let out a breathless chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s not like you care.”

He scrunches his face up, squeezing your knee again. “That hurts, you know. I do happen to be kinda nice when you get to know me.”

I know. Stupidly, you know it. He helped you with the washing machine, he let you throw insult after insult his way without ever taking it too far in retaliation, and he invited you to watch him play with his band. You know Eddie Munson is a nice guy. Given the circumstances, he’s probably the nicest guy you’ve ever known.

Still, you’re both molded into routine. If it’s the only stable thing in your life, you don’t want to wreck that.

“Uh huh,” you breathe. “That’s why you’ve been a dick to me since we first met.”

“Actually, I remember you being the dick.” He states it matter-of-factly, but you know it’s the truth. “And besides, even if we hate each other, I hate to see you cry even more,”

He wipes the tears off your cheek with his thumb, the touch of the rings on his fingers making you shiver. Or maybe you were tingling again.

“No one else can be mean to you,” he whispers. “That’s my job.”

Chuckling, you tilt your head right into his hand. Though you’re not intending to let him cradle the side of your face like this, you’re not moving away once it happens.

“You’re pretty good at it, too.” It’s meant to be a lighthearted comment, but Eddie doesn’t seem game to go back to basics.

He brushes his thumb against your cheek again, eyes dancing between your own. “I’m even better at taking care of someone.”

A beat skips in your chest. “Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

It’s risky what you’re about to say, but you’ve said worse. “I think I’d like to be that someone.”

He parts his lips at that, something slow. You can see in his facial expression that the gears in his head are turning, and you might have called them rusty if you weren’t totally ready to fall into this mistake with him. Instead, you take another risk in placing your hand on top of the one still on your cheek, rubbing your thumb along his skin to bring him back to life, seeing as he’s gone mute on you.

What’s one more risk after the last one? You’re ready to take two more. Inching closer to him on the couch, you reach out to caress his cheek like he’s done to you, knocking your knees into his, which has the hand laid there still squeezing again, this time in surprise. You offer him a smile, hoping that you’re not about to scare him off, but when he doesn’t pull away you take that as his response.

Closing the gap between you two shouldn’t feel as delicious as it does, but that tingle is running all through you as your nose bumps against his and you can hear his breathing more clearly in the proximity. Maybe you could hear his heart if you pushed yourself further, but you’re giving him room to think. Literally.

As soon as his eyes flicker down to your lips, you take that last risk with eager intention; leaning forward and doing the one thing you never thought you’d ever do; kiss Eddie Munson.

There’s a sharp intake of breath from him when your mouth slots against his, your eyes closed shut as your fingers gently brush beneath his ear. More than a tingle runs through you when the hand on your knee squeezes once more, much more firmly this time, before meeting the other side of your face to hold you in both hands, moving his lips against yours rhythmically.

Damn it all—is this what you’ve been missing out on all this time? Hell, Eddie feels amazing against you and his lips are softer than you’d thought they’d be. Rough, chapped, is what you expected, not this. Not the warmth that spreads through you when he deepens the kiss with a tilt of his head, humming lowly when your fingers snake into his hair. You’re both moving closer and closer, trying to outcast the space between you both like an old worn-out shirt. You’re both pushing away that invisible barrier. Fitting into each other, that’s what you’re doing.

You don’t want to stop. Now that you’ve risked it and liked it, nothing else seems to matter. But it’s the air that takes priority when Eddie pulls back from you slightly, just enough to be panting onto your parted lips and it really shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. He looks blemished at the touch; his cheeks flushed. You’re sure that you look disheveled as well if the faint pulsing of your lips accounts for anything.

“Okay,” he breathes, licking his lips. “I can get used to this.”

Chuckling, you twirl your finger around a strand of his hair. “Yeah, me too. This is much more fun than fighting with you.”

“Oh, this could be considered fighting.” His voice sounds flirtatious with the sentence.

“Well, in that case—” you peck his lips, smiling at him. “Hit me with your best shot, Munson.”

“I intend to do just that, Mayfield.”

Taglist: @darthkenobii @blooming-mushroom @synrose6 @midnightislost2 @avril-reblog-cave @dameronology @overly-obsessed-with-you @doublesunsets

[heavenbarnes]

Is your mother worried? Would you like us to assign someone to worry your mother?

Eddie Munson x Female Reader | 18+

Warnings: mentions of people/parents “disapproving” of your relationship with eddie but no actual parental figures are established, the objectification of one edward munson, use of objectifying words like “slut” but in a joking way (and towards Eddie), alcohol, swearing, dirty talk, mentions of eating ass, implied perv!Eddie (it’s mentioned he likes you sweaty), handjob, naked!reader clothed!Eddie, mentions of exhibitionism, unprotected sex (mine is fiction, yours isn’t pls use protection), creampie, cuddly!Eddie after-sex

Word Count: 3.9k

DO NOT repost my work on tumblr or any other site

this fic isn’t canon (imagine “the piggyback” never happened) and that’s okay cause idk if i can trust those d*ffer bros w their own show anymore, i’ll take it from here lads x

The summer of ‘87 hit Hawkins hard.

Sticky air and beating sun with no relent, a blanket of humidity settled over the town and didn’t seem to want to quit. Nothing you could do about it, days like these where being outside was even worse than being in.

A heat that made you wanna’ throw a tantrum and stamp your feet.

You weighed up your options for a sunny Saturday afternoon in your mind. You could lay spaced out in the centre of your bed, inkling of a breeze brushing through your curtains. Sweat beading at the small of your back, feeling sorry for yourself.

Or, there was him.

He who sat just 10 minutes down the road, probably not up to much. He who had called you last night nearly begging you to sneak out your window to see him.

“C’mon, if you don’t I’ll come get you.”

“Eddie Munson, don’t you dare.”

“Ooh say my name, baby you know it drives me craaaaazy.”

You knew he wouldn’t, he wasn’t that silly. But there was a part of you that liked the idea of it. You liked the fact that he wanted to see you, that he wanted you. You liked having to use a hushed voice on the phone in the kitchen, knowing the trouble he could land you in.

It wasn’t the heat playing tricks on your mind, there was a bad boy in the neighbourhood and you had it bad for him.

Had it so bad that you were kicking up dust on the road winding through the trailer park under the beating sun. Sun-screen sticking to your clothes as the hot air whipped past your face and made the sight of his trailer look like the lost city of Atlantis.

“And why aren’t you dying in front of the A/C like the rest of us?”

You saw a red-cheeked Max Mayfield pouring cool water out for a scrappy little dog as you rounded the corner. Her quirked eyebrow and tiny smile all but answered her own question but you bought into it. She was lucky you liked her.

“Gonna’ scam off theirs instead, I’m sensing cold beers as well.” You called out, lazily gesturing towards Chateau Munson.

Max nodded thoughtfully, standing back up and drying her palms on her thighs. “Well, Wayne just left so more beers and cool air for you two.”

Her brows wiggled as she began to walk backwards to her own trailer. You scrunched up your nose rather childishly in her direction but continued on nonetheless.

Max Mayfield might’ve been one of the only people in this town allowed to tease you about your trailer park rendezvous, given she was one of the only people who knew about you spending your time here.

Between her and Wayne Munson (who was always incredibly welcoming), the only others that had a clue of you and Eddie were the sheets on his bed and the sweet night air.

Not a secret out of necessity, rather out of the excitement it brewed in the both of of you. The burning hot delight of something that exists only for the both of you, the kind of heat you could live with.

The wooden steps squeaked under your sneakers as you knocked on the trailer door, the heat of the metal bit your knuckles for the miniscule moment they made contact. Thankfully, it was only a short time before the door swung open and the swirling air wrapped around you.

“You must’ve heard my prayers, honeybunch.”

The irony of Eddie Munson talking about answered prayers when he was stood before you looking like something the prophets would’ve written about.

The summer heat may have been wicked but it gifted you the sight of Eddie in shorts. His Levi’s 501s having been cut off at the mid-thigh by you at the start of summer, a stroke of genius on your part as the end of his tattoo peeks out of the denim.

He’d cut the sleeves off his “Dio” shirt but you’d cropped it for him, hitting him right at the base of his ribcage so you could see the trail of hair leading to his jeans whenever he raised his arms.

You were a genius, objectifying the man with a pair of fabric scissors and a raging heat in the pit of your belly. But Eddie let you do it, he liked the way you stared.

His own touch of thick socks out the top of heavy combat boots were nice, nice in the make-your-mouth-dry-why-the-fuck-is-this-turning-me-on kind of way. Really nice.

But the most overwhelming part of his frankly slutty little ensemble was messily bundled up at the crown of his head. Curls balled haphazardly into a bun secured with a scrunchie you’d lost at his place some months ago. Two random tendrils hung around his face, wavering gently in the almost-breeze.

The stagnant heat didn’t have you lightheaded but he did, this would nearly kill you.

“Holy hell, you look pretty.”

Eddie laughed, openly and from the chest as he stepped aside and let you into the safety of an airconditioned room. “I think that’s my line?”

You looked at your mismatched outfit, a combination of the most breathable items you could find before you looked back to him. “I think you have me beat.”

His cheeks caught a pink glow that he shook off, loose curls around the bun shaking gently as he moved to the fridge. “You’re just calling me pretty to get in my pants, I think.”

Naked fingers wrapped around the neck of the beer bottle he passed you, far too hot for the chunky rings that usually adorned his hands. You pressed the cold bottle to the back of your neck, feeling the condensation run down your back.

“Nuh uh, looking like that I’m making you leave it all on.” Opening the bottle on the corner of the counter, you spoke before you took your first sip. “Look so good I’ll suck you through the opening of your boxers.”

You casually swallowed your first sip and Eddie nearly choked on his. Eyes going impossibly wider as he wiped a drop of spilt beer from his chin.

“What has gotten into you? Where’s my sweet girl who shuts her eyes when I spread her cu-”

“Eddie!”

“Oh no, there she is.”

He sat beside where you’d made yourself comfortable on the couch, thighs spread wide till his knee was knocking against yours. “I think it’s the heat, makes me forget myself or whatever.”

“Then I’m turning off the fucking A/C, lets get this naughty baby out to play.”

Rolling your eyes, you nudged him with you shoulder as you slumped into the couch. The cool air drifting over you was slowly bringing you back to the land of the living. “Nope, too late sweet girl is back.”

Eddie laughed along with you, elbow resting along the back of the couch as he brought his fingers to lightly scratch the top of your head. Your eyes lay shut, enjoying the way your other senses were being heightened at the moment. 

“Hmm, that’s a shame,” Deep voice rumbled in his chest. “Kind of like it when you talk to me like that.”

Your shoulders bounced as you huffed a laugh out your nose. “Slut.”

“Mmm,” You could hear the laughter in his voice as he hummed. “Getting me hard without even trying.”

Rolling your head towards him, you opened one eye to see his hand leave your head to grip his crotch through his jeans. “Just say you like it when I treat you like a whore and move on.”

Without even a moment for hesitation, Eddie’s fingers went back to gripping the back of your head. He leaned in till his lips were by your ear and he whispered it like a secret. “I like it when you treat me like a whore.”

You had to shut your eyes again, your lips tightening into a line as you let the words settle within you. Yeah, he’s taught you a lesson about running your mouth. You could talk big but the minute he shot right back, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Seems sweet girl is back, good thing I like her just as much.”

As if he hadn’t just winded you with a simple sentence, Eddie turned back to take a sip of beer and resumed the quiet ministrations of his blunt fingernails against your scalp. 

Your hand shook only slightly as you brought your bottle to your lips, gently resting on the rim as you took a sip. Every time you found a surge of confidence to tease Eddie, try match him at his own game, he reminds you why the game was his in the first place.

Eddie Munson wasn’t the type to shy away from anything. A man who doesn’t get embarrassed, an “I’ll try anything once” kind of guy. That was the charm about him, the notion of showing somebody all the freaky little parts of yourself and just knowing they’re going to love you anyways.

“Surprised you’re here, after you were so keen on keeping me away last night.” He was teasing, you could tell by his tone of voice and even the pressure of his fingers.

“Not tryna’ keep you away.” You mumbled into the beer bottle, trying and failing to hide behind the thick glass.

“No? So you whisper to everyone on the line?”

Your eyes finally opened and they rolled as they did, turning to see that Eddie had that look on his face. The one that cemented with you that he was in fact teasing and was in fact loving every second of it.

“You know what’s up, Eddie.”

He hummed in agreement, dropping his hand from your head so his arm could lay around your shoulders and pull you into his chest. The boy was like a furnace, hot even without the help of the middle of summer. But you didn’t mind this, couldn’t mind it when his lips pressed to the top of you head.

“Don’t you worry, the parents of Hawkins have been scared of me since the minute I arrived.” He lent forward to place his beer bottle on the floor beside the couch. “Make the dads violent and the moms blush, I do.”

You giggled, knowing he wasn’t entirely incorrect. There were plenty of men in this town that didn’t like the influence Eddie had on their daughters (or their wives for that matter), that all he had to do was smile in their general direction and they start behaving like Elvis was opening at the International. 

“I nearly let you come round last night.” Your voice was a deliberate squeak.

Eddie heard you, ears now well in tune to all the subtle noises you might make for him. He turned his face so his cheek was pressed to your head, an inquisitive noise raising from his chest.

“Yeah? And why didn’t you? Put me out my misery or somethin’?”

“I uh-” Burying your face in his chest just a bit, you let the words rush through you. “Wasn’t trusting myself to keep quiet.”

If you hadn’t been holding him so tight, Eddie thought he might’ve fallen apart. A smile that was frankly below-the-belt resting over the lower half of his face. His hand slid down your arm till it reached your thigh.

“Mmm and I can’t ever stop my girl from making those pretty little sounds, can I?”

His hand nudged your leg a little more, shifting you even closer to him till you were nearly in his lap. The A/C had taken the bite out of the heat for now, but draping yourself over him still left that sticky feeling along you both.

You were close enough that he could get his lips along the shell of your ear to whisper for you.

“I bet if I got my tongue in the right spot, I could have you waking up the whole neighbourhood.”

He darted that god-forsaken tongue out like the serpent that started everything, firm muscle running along the length of your neck and making you squeal. Your natural reaction had you drawing your ear down against your shoulder, trying to keep him back but failing miserably. What Eddie wanted, Eddie got.

“Eddie don’t, I’m all sweaty-”

“And you think I fucking care?” He manhandled you, pulling you the rest of the way into his lap until you were perched up on his thighs. “I’d put my mouth on every inch of you if you let me.”

Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head, knowing that he meant good on his word. You give him so much as an inch and he’d take a fucking mile with his tongue pressed between the plush of your ass cheeks.

Anyways, warning him of your sweaty disposition was a weak argument. Eddie was a menace when it came to you, there wasn’t a part of you he wasn’t enamoured with- including your scent. Even when you weren’t at your best.

Your mind wound back to Eddie following you into your home when you were sure you both were the only ones there, your clothing sticking to you from the walk there. He ambled behind you as you made a beeline for the bathroom, peeling the dirty clothes from your body and dropping them in the hamper.

As you waited for the shower to heat, you caught a glimpse in the mirror of the sights over your shoulder. Eddie shamelessly plucking the shorts you’d just had on and holding them straight to his face, inhaling your musky scent.

“You’re fucking bad, Eddie Munson.” Your voice broke as you whimpered for him, hips rolling into his.

“Yeah, but you like it,” He leaned in, lips nipping down your neck as his hands maneuvered your hips. “So you’re worse.”

He didn’t just make you crazy, he didn’t just make you filthy, he made you feel pathetic. The way you’d pull at his clothing, how your thighs got slick at the sight of his hair up, how you’d give just about anything to have him inside of you right now.

You were honestly and pathetically down horrible for this man, and worst of all? He knew it.

“Hmm there’s those pretty sounds, nearly crying for me yeah?”

He looked up at you, hands bunching your shirt up around your chest. You took incentive, immediately shoving the fabric up your arms and over your shoulder. Eddie could pray to the sun gods at this moment, giving him a heat that left you braless.

“There’s my girls.” Corny as he was, the minute his hands enveloped your breasts you were back to whining his name.

He was right, verge of tears beckoning you closer. Overwhelming tears, this is so fucking good tears, tears that threaten your waterline every time he trails a featherlight touch over you. His fingers close around your nipples, whilst his palms press into the flesh of your chest.

Desperate movements of your hips roll into his, hands skittering down his chest as you tug at his belt. Your lower lip pouts, pitiful little whimpers trailing out of your mouth as his hands cover as much ground as they could manage.

Eddie’s eyes were quick to hone in on your movements, corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. “You want it so bad, take it out for me.”

Forgoing his belt, you stayed good on your words from earlier. Fly down and fingers burrowing into the soft cotton of his boxers, you were met with the soft feeling of his skin. Soft skin but fucking hard.

Eddie hissed, hips jolting up towards your touch as you took his cock out. Your hand ran over the head, swiping through the precum and drawing it down over the length of him. Immediately, you twisted your wrist once around him and got exactly what you were looking for.

A moan, borderline songlike fell from his parted lips as his head tipped back against the couch. “That’s it, angel, oh- that’s it.”

His fingers started with the waist of your bottoms, dipping into the band and pushing them down as you kept up the steady motions of your hand rolling over the head of his cock and making his hips lift to meet you.

As your bottoms got around your thighs, Eddie nudged you to stand so he could get them the rest of the way off. “Take these off, baby. Come put that pussy on me.”

That got you moving, kicking the clothing off your ankle and somewhere across the living room, you were quick to settle back onto Eddie’s thighs. The denim of his shorts were rough against your thighs, but you braced one hand on a bare knee behind you as you leant into a kiss.

You felt the hairs of his leg under your palm, a little scratchy but slightly soft as you gripped at his leg. Eddie’s own palms came up your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you forward till your cunt was pressed against the hard length of him.

Sat stark naked as the day you were born whilst Eddie hadn’t shed one item, it should’ve been a little bit shameful but you couldn’t find it in you to mind. He had a way of drawing everything up to the surface, no matter how valiantly had tried to bury it. You liked it, you liked when he stripped you bare and stared at all the intimate parts of you.

When he licked his lips and groaned under his breath and said something like, “fuck, and all for me yeah?”

You rolled your hips once, twice, the hard line of his cock pressed straight between your folds. Dripping head brushing against your swollen clit, catching against you and making you mutter a string of curses mixed with a wail of his name.

Hand gently resting against the other side of his cock, you rocked harder against it. Grinding against the thick vein that ran along the underside, your took your eyes off the heavens and took in the sight beneath you.

Eddie lay blissed out, one hand was holding your hip and rubbing sweet circles into the flesh. His other arm lay stretched along the back of the couch, head resting against it as he watched you work yourself against him.

“You like using me to get off, huh?” He quirked an eyebrow as his eyes ran up the entire length of you. “It’s okay, sweet thing, you take whatever you need.”

You huffed a heady moan out of pursed lips, lifting up onto your knees so you could nudge the head towards your opening. Your other hand came to the meeting of your thighs, fingers dragging the wetness around the mess between your legs.

Dragging some of your own slick down Eddie’s cock, you lined him up against yourself. Eyes fixed on his, you sunk down on him slowly as your mouth fell open with a cry of his name, “Eddie, please-oh god.”

“I know, baby,” Both his hands came to grip hard at your waist, pulling you forward. “Tell me allllll about it.”

Between Eddie’s guiding motions and the own roll of your hips, you picked up pace in bouncing on his thighs. Your hand shot back to it’s spot on his knee, using it to steady yourself as he began to lift his hips and fuck up into you.

Mouth hanging open and sounds falling out, every filthy little sound filtered into the air. Your eyes flickered towards the open windows with billowing curtains, knowing there was an incredibly good chance the Munson’s neighbour’s now knew exactly what the youngest was capable of, thanks to your inability to keep quiet.

The inkling of worry in your chest blossomed into something dark and a little dirty, the devil who lived on your shoulder and kind-of-sort-of wanted Eddie to show you off. For now, you’d settle for the way he looked at you like you were the only thing worth his time.

Glassy eyes, totally fucked out expression across his face. Sweat sheen over his forehead as he lifted you and placed you straight down onto his dick, mouth running a mile a minute about how good you look perched in his lap.

“My good girl, bouncing on my cock like you were made for me.”

Part of you was beginning to think maybe you were. There was no way he felt this good inside you, made you feel this good inside when he so much as spoke to you, without there being some divine intervention.

Men like Eddie Munson weren’t coincidences. They were rewards for good behaviour in another life, or something.

Yeah something, your mind swelled with a multitude of emotions all at once. Part of you was still comprehending Eddie’s coo of “good girl”, the other part couldn’t get over how he was rutting his hips under you, the last part was fully focused on the impending orgasm getting closer each moment.

The hand that wasn’t holding you upright came down to rub at your clit, immediately making you flex your hot cunt tight around him, the action not at all going unnoticed by Eddie. “Jesus fucking Christ, that’s it.”

Filthy wet sounds of your fingers messily dragging over your clit, Eddie’s cock being sucked into the tight hold of your pussy, his full balls slapping against you with every thrust. The sounds alone should’ve made you fell an ounce of shame but it was overtaken by the hot rush that was catching up to you.

Falling forward, your face tucked into the crook of his neck and hands coming to ball the material of his shirt into your fists. Eddie wrapped both arms around your waist, holding tight as he could whilst he picked up the pace even further, not that you thought that was even possible.

“Eddieeeee, oh- fuck- I’m”

“I know, can feel your cunt like a vice grip,” There was a hint of teasing under his tongue. “Give it to me, angel.”

Not one to deny him anything, you released the tension and let go of the floodgates. Your lips split open and cries fell into the skin of Eddie’s neck, teeth closing around the muscle of his shoulder in a feeble attempt to quiet yourself some.

Eddie didn’t mind a bit, chuckle in his voice as he spurred you on. “Yeahhh- sink your teeth in, baby. Take a bite of my heart next.”

Your body fell limp, letting him pick you up and slide you along the length of his cock like a toy. His hips slowed minutely before they started to hammer, hard thrusts slowing down until he was dragging you right down and holding you tight.

The guttural groan that sounded from his chest as he filled you up was nearly enough to have you coming again, gentle little “fuuuuuck baby, that’s my good girl” as his lips pressed to the side of your head.

You could barely move, knowing that if you did there would be a helluva mess on Eddie’s shorts beneath you (not that he’d ever mind). Your whole body felt soft, draped over him as he cooed quietly in your ear, hand rubbing over your bare back.

Sweat covered the both of you, A/C working overtime to try and bring the room back down. Eddie slid a hand up to cup the back of your head, quick kiss to the side of your cheek. “You still with me, honeybunch?”

“Mhmm,” You sighed, burrowing further into his hold. “Feels good.”

Eddie huffed a quiet laugh, his chest rising against yours as you felt him nod gently against you.

“Yeah it does,” He secured your warm body against his in a cuddle. “Yeah it fuckin’ does.”

[hangezoeenthusiast]

God(hcs)

c!multiple x god!reader

notes: the reader will be the god of death to make it a little bit more spicy :). c!punz’s pronouns are he/they, i’m not sure about the others, but i know theirs. also why does ranboo take away my gender? /j

word count: 1,672

warnings: arson, violence, cursing, yelling, mention of death, voices in technos part, spoilers for wilbur if you haven’t watch tommy’s lore stream, revival for wilbur, making a religion, time travel, egg, prison, stealing, anarchy, playful name calling

Sapnap

so obviously y’all would be a great match :)

you have creative mode, so when sap would ask you to give him a lighter and tnt, you would GLADLY give it

also, can we talk about him being a nether hybrid

fire squared

like fires left and right, hide your mom and your children in your house lol /j

but besides the whole arson thing, you favor him above anyone else on the server

like if he asks for diamond blocks, well here’s a whole inventory of it, also, here’s some ancient debris and some netherite

if someone asked, you would probably grant them with poison and curses, just because you can’t be “unloyal” to snapchat 

wouldn’t be lonely anymore

Dreamwastaken

this duo is less chaotic, but chaotic enough where people avoid you

he still asks you for stuff, but most of the time, you don’t give him it because he annoys you too much about giving stuff

“hey y/n/n, can i pretty please get some emerald blocks.”

“nope bitch, get it yourself.”

but sometimes, you grant him some op shit, when it’s your good day

“because i’m being nice, here’s some diamond, now, don’t ask me again you little piss baby.”

“shut your trap y/n.”

“or what homeless teletubby, what are you going to do to a god like me?”

“you hang out with technoblade to much.”

Georgenotfound

maybe the least chaotic duo

you guys keep on relaxing and relaxing until the point where you don’t do anything

he barely asks you for anything, but only when it’s really really important, like a house or build

especially when he was building his little cottagecore house, he needed your godly presence to help

“y/n, what should the roof be made of?”

“i suggest brick, it makes it more aestheticy if that makes any sense.”

also barely any drama or tea with you guys

never arguing and never betraying each other is a must

Tubbo

also another least chaotic duo

literally help him with his bee farm, he will (platonically) love you forever

gotta be close to ranboo, that’s the rule

gives him SO much stuff, he’s a precious boi 🙄

also gotta be close to tommy, but not as much unfortunately

you help him pick out things for builds, like what material clashes with another, etc

“do you think that the wool and the netherite blocks look good together y/n?”

“nah, what i suggest is the wool with the gold, it looks perfect.”

sometiems, gotta put him in check because he gets a little ego built up

you definitely yank his horn a little too hard because of your IMMENSE STRENGTH

“OW, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT Y/N.”

“calm down sunny, you were just getting a bit over your head a little.”

Tommyinnit

chaotic duo like sapnap

snaps at anyone who annoys you and vice versa

you give him EVERYTHING, obviously except op and creative

he tries to persuade you to do something, but dreamxd wouldn’t allow it, since he is the main boss

“come on y/n, give me op.”

“no tommy, xd will kick my ass.”

“pweaseee.”

“no.”

you would DEFINITELY help him with the Big Innit Hotel, making the whole layout and color palette.

both of you have an intense hatred for ranboo, since he “stole” tubbo away from tommy

Ranboo

least involved in everything

just stay in the tundra and drink some tea, and you’re good for all of your life

helps him get netherite all the time so your boii can get the good stuff 😬

when he mines to get diamonds, he literally prays to you

“y/n, if you’re listening, please give me a 6 vein, i desperately need it for my collection of diamond blocks.”

and THERE IT IS

more than a 6 vein actually, a 12 vein

guess he needs to pray to you more

daily tea sessions, to talk about the good stuff, and NO, and i repeat NO skipping

threatening to flick water on him check ✅

Wilbur Soot

literally you spoil him

not to be angsty, but when he died and lost his last canon life, you revived him instead of Dream

now he’s practically at your knees

like he’s thinks that he owes you, but actually that’s the opposite

he was revived because you were lonely, and wanted your best friend back :(

prays to you when he goes to bed

“hey y/n, hope you’re having a great day, (platonically) love you.”

“love you too mortal.”

sometimes, to be at the peak of godness, you shower upon wilbur as gold to symbolize blessings, like zeus did before

“omg y/n, what are you doing?”

“i’m trying to bless you, shut up bitch.”

just saying, he would make a religion about you :/

Karl Jacobs

omg don’t get me started on this

first, you wouldn’t codone him going back in time

he would definitely forget your name a lot, so that’s why you hated it

“hey karl, how are you doing?”

“i’m sorry, but do i know you?”

ANGST IS TOO MUCH FOR ME

you were definitely the one to push him towards sapnap and quackity

this is also another spoiled boi

give him the entire world while you’re at it pwease

he wants a few diamonds, nope, give him a chest full of them

Quackity

why are there so much chaotic duos in here?

literally chaos times infinity

energy to the max

literally, did you take an energy drink

grants him every wish he can randomly think off

“can i get a bucket with lava and a fish in it?”

“weird choice, but ok man.”

gotta be close to sap and karl or he isn’t your friend anymore /j

helps with las nevadas a lot, and definitely tries to rig the machines so you get money

“hey big q, i got 10,000 dollars.”

“that’s impossible... y/n, did you cheat?”

“nooo 😊”

help him preen his wings, and he goes “I LOVE YOU, MWAH MWAH.” obviously in his mind 🙄

Awesamdude

definitely helps him maintain the prison

you both love setting up red stone contraptions and pistons and all that giz

“hey sam, do you know where the redstone torches are?”

“yeah, there behind the pistons in the back.”

also you helped build the prison, since he could do that by himself

“are you sure that lava wall will work y/n, your calculations seem inaccurate.”

“i’m sure sam, this will add some more security to this goddamn server.”

nerd squared lol

BadBoyHalo

wouldn’t condone the egg

you warned him multiple times to get away from its grasp, but most of the times he’ll decline

“i won’t y/n, the egg is the future.”

he still, even after all the advancements, even after everything, he tries to ask you to join the eggpire

“come on y/n, you’ll like being with us.”

“i don’t wanna be on a stupid egg side, like let me crack the egg, i wanna eat it and turn it into a omelette.”

he doesn’t like that joke :(

but before he discovered the egg, both of you were joint at the hip

sight seeing was a must

languages being thrown around everywhere, since you were the little language muffin

Punz

steals stuff from everyone

hide your stuff, because the punzo-y/n team is unstoppable

definitely they can be really stubborn and indecisive

like one day, he will be like, “i need gold blocks.” and the next, “nevermind, i need netherite actually.”

like hon, stop switching

also anarchy buddies

burning down forests and buildings are your guys’s specialty

when you give him gold when they doesn’t ask, his heart goes brrr and his brain goes, “pog pog, they’re so cool, lets hug them.”

Technoblade

now this is the most deadly duo in the entire Dream Smp

better not piss you guys off 😐

he’s the Blood God, and you’re the God/Goddess/God being of Death

so if some occasion where you need to battle someone, like Techno’s enemies, *clears throat and murmurs Quackity*, you will obviously back your boy up :)

help him with enchanting and potions and he’s set for life

also you got have to be close to the great Philza Minecraft since him and Techno are buddy buddy

anarchy squared

helps with the voices since you have some of your own

“so what you’re saying is that i need to pay attention to them?”

“yeah, when i first learned that the voices were in my head, i tried to ignore them, but that sucked. so what i did was try to distract myself with various tasks, and that sucked.”

“so what do i do, you’re saying that i should listen to them, but how do i do that when they literally shout at me.”

“just embrace it, obviously when they do their little chant of blood for the blood god, you have to ignore them.”

“you suck at advice.”

Philza Minecraft

so since both of you resemble death, him being the Angel of Death and you being the God/Goddess/God being of Death, y’all are fucking best friends, platonic soulmates if you will

death squared

watch out, because if you piss them off, prepare to d-

gotta be close to Ranboo and Techno, and obviously others who he platonically likes

he doesn’t need to ask you for stuff, he’s the fricking Angel of Death, but he will ask you to preen his wings :D

“ow, not there y/n.”

“oh shut up grandpa, let me do it.”

“I’M NOT OLD DUMBASS.”

Dream XD

two gods at once, damn there is so much chaos

left and right, you guys are noticed by everyone, like purrrr

y’all would be in some fancy shit, to show your power

you would get jealous of him hanging out with george

“why are you jealous y/n?”

“you’re hanging out with george to much, hang out with me please :(.”

gifts are a must, even though both of you have access to creative

[yukidragon]

SDJ Headcanons

I got a request to hear some of my headcanons for the vanilla universe of my fandom noodling with Something’s Wrong With Sunny Day Jack. Well, maybe vanilla isn’t quite accurate considering we’ve got quite a bit of spice with our resident yandere Jack. Maybe more like vanilla mixed with caramel and fudge.

Anyway, these are some thoughts that more than likely are going to show up in my fanfic, Sunshine in Hell, if they haven’t already. So, uh, spoiler warning I guess?

To start with, I will have to say that this headcanon started building from the classic demo, where a number of details are different from the extended demo. Not to say that I’m ignoring things the extended demo added or changed. This is to say that Sunshine in Hell’s continuity will be slightly different from the classic and extended versions, like the two versions of the game are slightly different from one another, and will likely be different from the fully released game. I pieced together a lot of hints sprinkled throughout Jambeebot’s twitter, and have formed a few ideas about where the plot might be going. It might not be how it actually turns out, but why not run with them in my fic?

Originally I didn’t have anything in mind for y/n other than the classic namable first person MC playthrough. Hell, originally I didn’t plan on writing fic or fan art at all. Then I started developing some headcanons because Jack is so interesting and appealing, and I thought, ya know what, why not use this as an opportunity to do some character designing? I can even challenge myself with details that I struggled with in the past, like curly hair, plus size body type, and intricate tattoos. I picked the name Alice because Jack is a common name in literature, so why not go with another common one for his sunshine? It also became pretty fitting for different reasons as the headcanons slowly bloomed outward and Alice started developing a life of her own.

Just as a heads up, these are current headcanon thoughts. They might wind up getting changed by the time I actually get them written down for Sunshine in Hell. Some things have already changed since my initial headcanons as I’ve started writing and since more information came out after all. So just think of a few of these as fun possibilities for the future~

Now then, let’s go for the specific headcanon bits. I’ll put them under a cut and sort them by character. This isn’t all the headcanon stuff of course. I can make a follow up post with more, but here’s some of the bigger ones floating around in my head. Oh, heads up, some of these headcanons will be 18+ only, going into pretty dark and/or spicy places, but then again, that’s the type of game SDJ is. You have been warned.

Oh, and of course I can’t forget to tag @channydraws because I’m serving up some SDJ content over here.

Jack

Jack loves Alice. Full stop. Yes, this is a canon fact that Jack loves his sunshine, but I’mma emphasize that the man has fallen so gosh darn hard for Alice that it’s almost scary.

Speaking of which, the man is desperate for Alice’s love. It’s not just because he loves her, but because he’s convinced that she needs him to love her. He could feel it calling to him while he was still trapped in the hell of that VHS tape he was cursed to. He needs her to love him, not just because he loves her, but because her love is the only thing that’ll save him from being damned to that hell all over again.

Other people played the tape before, not just Alice, but not many. Jack experienced this happening and to him it was the closest to relief from his hellish damnation he could find. It was like reliving his memories... then the ending of that incident would tear him apart all over again.

Jack doesn’t remember the incident itself because it was so painful, he blocked it out.

Jack blocked out a lot of painful things from his past. It’s part of why he’s currently Jack and not Joseph anymore.

Might as well give my headcanon here of the incident itself - Jack was murdered by someone from his past before he reinvented himself from unloved delinquent Joseph Cullman to actor Joseph Haberdae.

Changing himself after abandoning his past is something Jack has done before... and the incident was such a trauma that he did it again, clinging to the Jack persona... the only version of him who was actually loved.

Well... unless I go with the death and rebirth plot point I’m sort of half-considering for Alice. If I go that route then Joseph was loved... he just lost that love to tragedy and it played a part in him running away to begin with. Might just save that for an AU though.

Regardless, Joseph wasn’t loved by his parents. They kept up appearances, even lied that they loved him, but they didn’t, not really. They ignored him, were into drinking and coffee, sometimes even physically abusive when he acted up... but at least they paid attention to him then.

Joseph acted up in a desperate bid for attention. It was the only way he knew how to get people to stop looking through him as though he didn’t exist.

This included teachers and his peers. Joseph wasn’t exactly the greatest person at this age...

You know that image where Jack talks to the crying guy with the knife? Well, Joseph has some experience with the things he says there... such as phrases like “burden to the class” and “worthless.”

Needless to say, his relationships with his peers were... not the best.

This is why there was one person who would never forget Joseph. This person nursed a grudge hunt him down to the set of the SunnyTime Crew and there, well... a lot of traumatic things happened as skeletons Joseph had buried were dug up and exposed for everyone to see.

Between the murder and unsettling past details about their beloved lead actor, the studio decided it was best to bury the whole show in the aftermath of what happened.

Little is remembered about the SunnyTime Crew show in the present, mostly rumors that became ghost stories and then creepypasta. Tapes and official merchandise are hard to come by, but they are still out there hidden away in places... waiting for someone to dig them up.

That’s how the VHS wound up in the thrift store after all. Someone got a copy of the incident before it was scrubbed... and decided to keep it as a little snuff film for personal amusement. The tape got rewatched a lot and it... definitely had an affect on Jack.

The tape was sold on accident by a relative of the sicko who kept it in their private collection. They thought it was just old junk that was worth getting at least a few pennies for it rather than just chucking it into the trash.

How Jack got into the tape in the first place was a mixture of the trauma of what happened, Jack himself unable to handle the way he died or being forgotten... and possibly a curse from a murderer who was bitter enough to nurse a grudge for a decade and hunt Joseph down to get revenge in such a public and cruel way.

Jack remembers very little, suppressed by trauma. He clung to his persona as Jack to keep his sanity, to be a person who is “clean” and worthy of loving.

Jack is what he thinks he should be, what type of person who can be loved. It’s not a mask so much as who he is desperate to be.

Jack will do whatever it takes to be loved. He will need time to understand that he doesn’t have to work so hard to earn Alice’s love, as his sincere feelings are enough to sway her heart.

On that note, Jack will be delighted that he and Alice bond so quickly without him having to resort to... desperate methods. His sweet sunshine responds to his sincerity, proving just how special their bond is and how right it is to love her.

Yes, this basically means Alice is doing a kiss/yes route. Spoilers, I guess?

Jack wanted to make friends with other people too, as many as possible. Alice would always be his best friend and number one in his heart, of course. That’s obvious. A pity that no one can see/hear/touch him...

Needless to say, that makes him all the more desperate for Alice’s love.

I fully plan on Sunshine in Hell having a happy ending where Jack and Alice help each other heal from their respective scars and they can be happy together. Spoilers I guess?

Also, yes, some of that healing will involve sexy times. Jack is touch starved to the extreme, and he just can’t get enough of Alice’s soft warmth...

Alice

To briefly touch on the rebirth plot line I may or may not add in, Alice’s name in her past life would be Mary. She would’ve been Joseph’s childhood friend and the only one who showed him any affection, and she related to him in having shitty parents, just hers were rich and didn’t like punk delinquents like Joseph... especially since their daughter had a big crush on said bad boy. Unfortunately she also had a disease that the doctors never found a cure for and she died from it not long before Joseph finally ran away. This ties in with the bloody pills and scalpel imagery in the opening screen.

Alice has a medical condition that 40 years ago would’ve killed her. Fortunately, in the present with modern medical technology, it’s treatable with medication. She keeps the pills in the safe in her bedroom and takes them daily.

Yes it’s the same disease she would’ve had as Mary if I go the rebirth route.

Alice will eventually keep the tape in the safe to keep Jack safe.

Alice has albinism, which she inherited from her dad who also has albinism. This makes her more prone to getting sunburned and makes her dislike the sun more.

Alice also dislikes alcohol. She tolerated it because her friends enjoyed it, but she hated how it made her feel. She won’t drink at all in the present day, not even socially.

Alice had a pastel goth phase in college, complete with dyed pink hair, until classes got to be too much for her to keep up with the look.

College was exhausting for Alice and she struggled with her major.

The major she wound up taking wasn’t actually what she was passionate about, but it was what she felt was most realistic for her to attain at least a decent future.

Alice likes to draw.

Alice’s parents are really nice. Her mom is a bit of a flake, but very loving. Her father is very affectionate and at times her parents remind her of Gomez and Morticia. They were also childhood sweethearts who are still madly in love as adults... which colored her view of her relationship with her own childhood friend, Ian.

Alice really did see a future with Ian. She hoped someday they would get married and they would have children together just like her parents, but...

Well, in school, Alice wasn’t very popular.... to put it mildly. Kids can be cruel, especially to those who are unusual. She was bullied all throughout her school days until she reached college age.

The reasons Alice was bullied were mainly due to her appearance (pasty pale and chubby) and the fact that when she was little she was pretty nonverbal.

It took many years for Alice to get better at talking to people. Part of her therapy to develop her verbal skills included using a puppet to speak for her.

Yes, this is where the puppet in her concept sheet, Honey Bunny, comes in. She still has that puppet even after all this time, though it’s currently tucked away in a box. Yes, Jack will eventually have the pleasure of meeting Honey Bunny.

Alice is the oldest child with at least two younger siblings. They haven’t been fully developed yet.

Alice is a survivor of SA and that greatly affected how she deals with intimacy and feelings of being trapped.

Alice currently suffers from very low self-esteem. Between a past of being bullied for her looks and personality, the SA incident, and being betrayed by the person she trusted with her heart...

Alice did forgive Ian and she did try again... but ultimately ended things after she realized that she just couldn’t forget what happened and she couldn’t stop feeling like she wasn’t “enough” for him.

Alice doesn’t think anyone would be attracted to her, not really. With Ian, it was a special case, where they grew up together and things developed over time. What she had with Ian was something that happened only once in a lifetime... and it all fell apart.

In the present Alice is lonely. She’s given up on being loved but still feels empty and wishes desperately for it... and that wish summoned Jack.

Alice is an empathetic person, and it has gotten her in trouble in the past trying to help people because she felt sorry for them... even if they didn’t necessarily deserve it. It’s something that Jack is concerned about now that he’s there even if he benefitted the most from her being too kind for her own good sometimes...

Alice chose to save Jack. She doesn’t remember it because the process of saving him required giving him a piece of her soul. He gave her a piece of his in return. This is why she’s the only one who can see, hear, and touch him. While she didn’t fully consider all the implications of this choice at the time, the soul trapped in the tape was so desperate and suffering so much, and she was the only one in the whole world who could save him from hell... she couldn’t live with herself if she just chose to leave him damned when she could do something to save him... and he did promise he would never hurt her, never do anything she didn’t want to do...

This piece of each other’s souls is why Jack and Alice can feel each other’s emotions as well as overhear thoughts. Alice doesn’t remember this ability, and Jack doesn’t want to tell her for fear of scaring her. After all, she doesn’t remember the agreement they made and she was so scared when she woke up without remembering what happened...

This agreement can be ended frighteningly easy. It’s part of how Jack got Alice to agree in the first place. If one of them doesn’t want him to be there... then it’s all over.

Alice can feel Jack’s love for her and responds to it very strongly, even if she’s unaware that it’s happening. It’s why even though only a day has passed, she feels the need to take care of him.

Needless to say, all Jack really needs to do is love Alice and be patient with her. She likes him and wants the love he is offering her so desperately... She’s just going to need time to heal from her scars...

Speaking of scars, the scar on her forehead is from the night Ian cheated on her.

Ian

With that, let’s turn our attention to the cheater in question. Why did he do it? Well, he was lonely. He had moved someplace all on his own and no longer had someone to support him by his side all the time, someone to reassure him and tell him he was beautiful and worth loving and desirable...

Until, guess what, his glow up finally was paying off. People started flirting with him at the college and, hey, what’s the harm in flirting back a little? It’s just paying a compliment and it felt good. He told Alice about the new friends he made there on campus and it was all innocent...

And dang were some of these people hotties. Skinny ladies with big boobs just like the animes... and they were flirting with him like he was the protagonist of a harem isekai story.

You know the song “Say No to This” in Hamilton? Ian had the same vibe going when he finally gave in to his base desires.

He didn’t know what happened! One moment he’s having a nice time with his new friend at the college and he was so lonely without Alice and suddenly they were kissing and it felt so good and she wanted him and for a while he forgot that he was lonely and missing his girlfriend...

Then post-nut clarity hit and he was like OH SHIT.

Ian really hoped that if he confessed right away, the damage wouldn’t be so bad, right? It was just a mistake. Alice has always forgiven him for his mistakes. She forgave him when he got too rough during sex despite her issues due to SA, so this can’t be much different. She herself said there was nothing that would make her not love him when he was down on himself thinking he would never be worthy of love or attractive...

Ian has self-confidence issues out the wazoo. He was bullied as a kid, had his looks insulted, and generally was treated like garbage by the other kids. Being the center of attention and desired as an adult is a new experience for him... one that, unfortunately went to his head... both the one on his shoulders and the one between his legs.

Ian was the only friend who consistently hung out with Alice. They were two “losers” at school who stuck together. It was almost natural that feelings would develop between them.

Alice and Ian both struggled with shyness, fumbling with crossing the line from friendship to lovers. Their relationship really was sweet... but not without its issues...

Ian apologizes a lot. A lot a lot. It gets to the point where Alice spent a lot of time just reassuring him. He missed that terribly when he went to his dream school and had to leave her behind.

Unfortunately, flattery and lust served as temporary, if empty substitutes...

Ian greatly regrets what he did, what he lost, and he’s determined to fix things... Alice did forgive him and gave him a second chance. They’re just on a break. Just a break. If he gives her a little space, but makes sure she never forgets him, if he just does the right thing to prove that they belong together, then everything can go back to normal...

Although, confidentially, the cheating wasn’t their only issue that made Alice see that ending the relationship was the best thing she could do for the both of them.

Shaun

Let’s hop off the cheater train and board the cat daddy express, shall we? Dude is a bro of the highest order, a Grade A pal.

Shaun met Alice when they shared a class in college. He thought she was cute and so sweet. He would’ve asked her out, but then he found out she had a boyfriend and, oof, heartbreak. Still, he sincerely was happy to be friends with her, and he liked Ian and was happy to make friends with the dude.

Until the night Ian made a frantic phone call to Shaun to check on Alice since she wasn’t answering her phone and he thinks she’s hurt and he’s the only one with a spare key to their place!

Shaun got Alice to the hospital that night. Turns out alcohol can’t make you forget heartbreak even if you drink enough of it to get alcohol poisoning and wind up bashing your head on broken glass. It was a pretty traumatic sight for him to come across, and he was so relieved when he heard the news that she would be alright.

Naturally this put Ian on Shaun’s shit list after finding out why Alice drowned herself in booze that night.

Shaun was the MVP, and his friendship with Alice strengthened in the aftermath... and he was one of the people who helped her see that forgiving Ian was the worst choice she could make for both her and Ian. He was there to support her decision to break things off for good and was her shoulder to cry on during her heartbreak.

Shaun and Alice bonded in college over liking the goth aesthetic and cats. At least half the posters in Alice’s apartment are from Shaun.

Shaun, sadly, had very poor timing when it comes to anything romantic with Alice. He came into the picture when Alice was already deeply in love with Ian. Alice couldn’t even think about dating after the breakup, let alone risk their relationship by letting it change. Then he had to move away for his own degree to become a director... and when he finally moves back into the area, his bad timing shows up again as he finds Alice once more has a boyfriend...

Shaun has mixed feelings about Jack. He’s not just suspicious about Jack’s whole deal, but he feels protective of Alice after what she went through.

At the same time HOLY SHIT A REAL LIVE CURSED VIDEO TAPE WITH A REAL LIVE, ER, DEAD GHOST! Or maybe not a ghost but something else? Either way holy shit this is awesome. Shaun is totally geeking out.

Yes, Alice told Shaun about Jack the day he came to stay with her for a while. I already have a little scene written up of Jack and Shaun having a little... chat.

Chances are good that Shaun and Jack will actually become friends, though Jack is definitely going to make sure Shaun remembers who is most important to Alice...

Needless to say, it’s hella awkward for Shaun when Jack makes sure he’s going to hear Alice cry out Jack’s name at least once. Poor guy. Jack is a poor winner isn’t he?

Moon Pie

Fortunately, there's Moon Pie to give Shaun love and cuddles in his hour of need.

Moon Pie is a sweet little blind bundle of floof. Shaun adopted her after seeing her info and pics on a website and fell in love. She is a very affectionate baby and sticks close to her daddy.

Shaun loves Moon Pie to pieces and will commit a violence if anyone were to threaten her.

Alice, too, quickly falls in love with Moon Pie. Pity she doesn’t have the energy or financial stability to adopt a cat of her own yet. Maybe someday... till then, she can be the fun cat aunt.

Initially when I first saw Moon Pie I was going to make her Alice’s cat, but I can’t bring myself to steal a baby away from her daddy, so Alice will have to simply love her from afar. Alas, this is the true tragedy of Something’s Wrong With Sunny Day Jack.

Fortunately, Shaun is the best cat dad a precious bundle of floof like Moon Pie could ask for.

Moon Pie can sense Jack.

Don’t worry, Jack likes Moon Pie and thinks she’s cute. Though he does admittedly get a little jealous when Alice cuddles Moon Pie and gives the baby little smooches.

Moon Pie might or might not have unintentionally provoked Jack to assert his place as number one in Alice’s heart. Good thing she can’t have her innocent eyes besmirched by the things this lusty yandere clown does to his sunshine when Shaun isn’t home!

Moon Pie will nap on Jack at least once. Shaun will take pictures. All of the pictures.

Carol

Carol is at least 5 years older than Alice and worked longer than her at the yogurt place, so she’s an expert on doing as little of her job as she can get away with while still earning a steady paycheck.

She is a worldly lady who leans strongly towards women, but finds guys hot too.

Her eyeliner game is absolutely on point. When not forced to dress as a clown, this lady has style.

An example of that style is how Carol absolutely owns her vitiligo and makes it into a fashion statement.

Carol enjoys teasing Alice and thinks she’s kind of cute sort of like a pet rabbit kind of way. She’s gotten some details about her younger co-worker and has teasingly offered to set Alice up on a blind date with a guy she knows who thinks plus size ladies like her are cute.

They’re not exactly friends, but friendly and they get along well enough. Whether they become friends eventually is up in the air... especially when there’s a very possessive yandere best friend now in the picture.

Nick

Got a crush on the cute lady working at the funky clown yogurt place.

Tried to shoot his shot and unfortunately got shot down instead when she told him she has a boyfriend. That sucks.

In another world, that would only be the start of his worst night ever. Fortunately in the Sunshine in Hell universe, a certain supernatural yandere didn’t see him as enough of a threat to bother with. What wonders a little feeling of security in a relationship can do...

However, just because Nick lucks out in not provoking the yandere haunting treatment doesn’t mean that there won’t be other people who cross the line...

Ho my, this has turned out much longer than I was planning. I’ll save other details for another post. I hope y’all enjoyed me rambling on and let me know if there’s anything you want me to focus on for next time! If you liked any of this stuff, please read Sunshine in Hell and let me know what you think. Your feedback/reviews/comments give me life.