#I’m not sure that this comparison makes sense to anyone but me but I think about it all the time rip

[liamlawsonlesbian]

Re: the british accent post-- do you happen to have the Martha Stewart/ Julia Childs post on hand? I swear I saw it today but have since lost it to the void (tumblr unsearchability).

I don’t know where the original post went (tumblr….) but when I couldn’t find it today I made another one lol, it’s here

[lady-griffin]

Did Ekko Make Jinx’s Prosthetic Finger?

I’m curious what other people think, but I don’t think Jinx made her prosthetic finger. The only thing about it that screams JINX to me is the painted smiley face. That’s it.

It’s far too practical and simple of a design to be made by Jinx; seriously, if you remove the smiley face, you wouldn’t be able to tell this was her finger.

By comparison - Fishbones was a complete and total surprise to me when I first watched Arcane and yet I didn't question his existence for a single second; because of course Jinx made a giant shark bazooka. That makes perfect sense given everything we know about her.

With this finger though, I’m like... maybe she made it under these specific circumstances, but even then, I doubt it, because she’s so committed to her aesthetic.

She consistently goes all out, even when there's no reason to.

She individually painted each of her moth bombs, you know the things designed for the sole purpose of exploding. And yet, I'm supposed to believe she made her own finger and only drew a smiley face on it?! Really?!

Are we sure we’re talking about Jinx?

Jinx’s two guns from S1 are her most practical and aesthetically simple designs and even they have more flourish, I mean one’s pink for fuck’s sake.

So, if Jinx didn’t make her own finger, then who did?

Ekko!!

He's the only one who makes sense to me.

Now maybe this is just my delusional Timebomb wishing heart, it's certainly a possibility, but looking over the Firelights’ hoverboards, accessories, and home, Jinx’s prosthetic finger doesn’t look out of place.

There’s no perfect match to Jinx's finger; but overall, the design itself, plus the color and the specific way the metal looks worn and is clearly repurposed – looks very Ekko/Firelights to me.

To be clear, beaten up or repurposed anything (especially metal) is not an Ekko only thing, not by a long shot, as it’s found throughout Zaun.

It is Zaun.

Still, the way Ekko and Jinx’s aesthetics come through their designs and inventions, usually makes them very identifiable and this finger looks far more like Ekko, than it does Jinx. Even the color says Ekko to me.

Neither one exclusively uses a single color/type of metal, but Jinx tends to favor metals that are grey, while Ekko favors more bronze or coppery colored metals - like Jinx's finger.

The color is by no means a smoking gun, it’s just this bit of extra oddness.

It already felt super odd the design is so simple and practical but on top of that - she also didn't opt for her usual grey metals? Even in the smallest of details, this finger doesn’t feel like Jinx; and Arcane is so specific and detail oriented with its designs.

Now, obviously Ekko is not the only other inventor in Zaun, but I can't see Jinx using something just anyone made, let alone a new body part. Maybe she would for practicality’s sake, but as soon as she could, she would either customize it to her own aesthetic or just make her own.

She's so specific and intentional with her everything, so why would she make an exception for her new finger; something that's going to be attached to her body and used by her for a decently long time.

The fact this design seems to be Jinx's permanent new finger makes me assume whoever made it, did a good enough job that it met Jinx’s standards and they're important enough to her she was content to just draw a cute little smiley face on it and nothing more.

And right now, I only see Ekko being that person.

Also, I just think it would be really cute and sweet. Seriously, think about it –

Jinx: Look at what my boyfriend made me! *Gives you the middle finger*

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Four

I have so much motivation for this series currently, so y'all are getting a bunch of updates for it hehe

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Summary: Y/n meets Wooyoung, the other omega in Ateez, and Hongjoong gets what is coming to him, via an angry Seonghwa wc: 2k AU: a/b/o Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: Yelling, physical violence (slapping), Angry Seonghwa, Angst, Hongjoong is having a time in this chapter, anxiety, lots of playfulness between Wooyoung and other members, mentions of anxiety and being overwhelmed, I think that's it? masterlist

Y/n couldn’t say anything as Seonghwa pulled her behind him as he took her to wherever Wooyoung was within the building.

“I’m sure you’ll get along well with Wooyoung-ah. He’s so friendly, and he’ll enjoy having another omega to play around with. I can’t believe you’re the only omega that made it to this point. And because of that, I’ll give you my number, so don’t hesitate to call me if you need help, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay, us omegas have to stick together. Plus, between you and I, I want another omega in the group, we’re way outnumbered by the betas and alphas in the group. But don’t tell anyone I said that, they don’t need to know.” Seonghwa kept going on, and she just kept humming and nodding at the appropriate times, as she was a bit overwhelmed, but she kept her scent under control, not wanting to make the older omega aware of how she was feeling.

It seemed to work, as he didn’t seem to notice her nerves. Only moments later, they arrive at a door, the idol opening it and pulling her inside.

“Wooyoung-ah! I brought you a friend!” Seonghwa called out to the younger member, who looked up at him.

“What poor soul did you kidnap this time, hyung?” Wooyoung said, trying to see who was behind Seonghwa.

“She’s not a poor soul! Look, one of the auditionees is an omega! So I brought her here. She’s the only omega in that group, surrounded by a bunch of alphas and betas. I couldn’t leave her alone with them, not when I could bring her here, so she can have some quality time with her own subgender.” Seonghwa told him, his told hinting at the tiniest amount of scolding for the younger omega as well.

“Did you agree, or did hyung drag you here?” Wooyoung asked y/n, directing the attention onto her, as she realized Wooyoung wasn’t the only one in the room. 

“Yah!” Seonghwa interrupted her answer by an offended yell.

“I’ll take that as the latter is the truth. I’m sorry for Seonghwa-hyung’s stupid actions, I swear he usually isn’t this stupid.” Wooyoung apologized, quickly running away with a grin on his face as the elder omega let her hand go in favor of chasing after the younger man.

It was at that point that she realized exactly who else was in the room, as San and Yunho came up to her.

“Y/n, right? How did Seonghwa hyung meet you and bring you here?” Yunho asked her, his head tilted, really making the fan comparison to a golden retriever much more obvious.

“Seonghwa-ssi found the group of us out in the hallway across from the studio, and when he found out I’m an omega, he brought me here to meet Wooyoung-ssi.” She explained, her voice a bit quiet as she felt a bit out of place.

“Ahh, that makes sense. Well, come on and sit down with us, they’ll be occupied for a while.” San interjected, before guiding her over to the area the two had been sat down at, alongside the last two remaining members she had yet to meet.

“Jongho, Yeosang, meet y/n. She’s one of the candidates for our new member, and the only omega candidate as well.” San introduced her.

“Ah, that’s why he brought you here. Seonghwa-hyung always latches on to any omega he finds.” Jongho commented.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Yeosang, though I think you already know that.” Yeosang said, a kind smile on his face that made y/n blush slightly, as she could feel her cheeks heat up.

Yeosang really was a fairy prince, she couldn’t believe how pretty he was, he looked even more ethereal in person.

“Come on, sit down here.” San instructed her, pointing to the empty chair that he had been sitting in prior. The beta had moved onto the couch with Yeosang and Jongho, slightly squishing the two on the couch that was definitely not meant for three people.

She sat down, still nervous at casually sitting around with half of Ateez like it was nothing.

“Don’t be nervous, it’s okay. We’re just normal people.” Yunho told her after noticing her nervousness, a soft smile on his face as he looked over at her.

“Ah, it seems that the others have kidnapped you.” Seonghwa said from just behind her, making her jump in her seat. Wooyoung scoffed at Seonghwa’s actions.

“Give her a little warning, huh? Let’s not scare a prospective member. I’m sorry for Seonghwa’s actions, y/n. That’s your name, right? I’m pronouncing it correctly too?” Wooyoung once again apologized for his hyung’s actions, though this time he was more sincere, not as intent on getting on the elder omega’s nerves.

She confirmed that he had pronounced his name correctly, thanking him for asking. The slightly older omega smiled and waved away her thanks, saying it was the right thing to do, as no one likes their name being mispronounced. He moved to sit on the arm of the chair she was sitting in, looking down at her. “You’re pretty cute, y’know that? I’m sure you look prettier with a blush on your face however.”

His words caught her off guard, and she couldn’t look at him, instead choosing to hide her face in her hands, to the laughter of everyone else. Which only served to make her hide her face even further. Thankfully, Seonghwa was her savior once again.

“Okay, let’s not laugh at her, I think it’s only making her hide more.” The eldest member lightly scolded the others, and y/n felt safe enough to look up once again, only to find Wooyoung had moved to squat right in front of her.

“Hi.”

“Hi?”

“Let’s go!” He told her, grabbing her hand and dragging her out of the chair, and soon, out of the room. “Seonghwa-hyung is about to go murder Hongjoongie-hyung for his actions, so I’m taking you far away. We’re gonna go visit our dongsaengs!”

Back to the Seonghwa and the others…

The four men watched as Wooyoung dragged the other omega out the door behind him, and they chuckled at his actions, absolutely expecting for that to happen.

“Well, I’m leaving now as well. Someone needs to scold our captain.” Seonghwa informed the other four.

“What did he do now?” Yeosang questioned.

“He was rude to y/n and the other auditionees. He kicked them out of the studio, which is unacceptable.” Seonghwa told them, a frown on his face.

The four men weren’t surprised at their captain’s actions, though they were surprised Mingi didn’t try to stop him.

“Well, I’m off now. I’ll come back later. Keep an eye out for the two omegas, yes?” He said, to which he received nods in return.

Seonghwa set out to scold his pack alpha, disappointed in his actions. He was an omega on a mission, and he wouldn’t be dissuaded from his goal. He quickly reached the studio where the two remaining members of their group had sequestered themselves, and by the time he returned to the area, the auditionees had disappeared, most likely taken to wherever they were staying. He pushed open the door, the force behind it making it almost slam against the wall, which caught the attention of the two men inside.

“Seonghwa, darling! Why are you here? I’m surprised that you came all the way over here. Did we forget something today? I’m sorry if we did, Mingi and I got really invested in this new song we’re preparing for the comeback next year.” Hongjoong rambled, maybe already knowing that he was in trouble.

“Sure. It’s definitely not because you yelled and got upset with the auditionees for something they didn’t know about, and who are innocent bystanders caught between your valid dislike of KQ decisions, and the company’s decision to bring in a new member. No matter how valid your feelings are, Kim Hongjoong, it doesn’t excuse that you got upset at people who have nothing to do with the situation.” Seonghwa told him, moving closer as he did so.

“I don’t want a new member, we’re fine as we are now. They should know that they’re not joining a group that wants them. If they know, then at least they won’t be coming in blind.” Hongjoong tried to defend his actions.

Seonghwa was fed up with his excuses, and slapped his pack alpha. The slap was enough to make Hongjoong’s head turn to the side,and the action shocked both of the alphas in the room. Seonghwa had never done that before, no matter how angry he had gotten at any of them.

“You made them stand out in the hallway, and I know you, you gave them the most difficult songs, just so you could see them not live up to your standards, knowing that none of them have been through idol training. So that you could falsely justify that none of them fit as a part of Ateez. So don’t try and justify your actions. I thought that you could put your frustrations aside, and not take them out on innocents. But I guess I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did. Because this is not the Kim Hongjoong I know, nor the pack alpha I know.” Seonghwa said, as he stared down Ateez’s captain with a look of pure disappointment in his eyes.

“I can’t stand to be here. Apologize to the group of auditionees if you want me to talk to you again.” Seonghwa told him, before turning around and walking out the door, ignoring Hongjoong’s pleas for the pack omega to come back.

“You fucked up, hyung. And now you have to fix it. You were right, none of us are happy to get a new member. But at least the others are hiding their feelings, and at least trying to be welcoming. Instead, you never hid your distaste for this whole situation. Sure, maybe they now know that you, nor the rest of us weren’t informed about until yesterday. But now you’ve gone and basically told them that they’re not wanted, that they’re never going to meet your standards for Ateez. I’d bet a good few of them are Atinys, and you really just went against everything you’ve ever said to Atiny. I wonder how many of them will leave Seoul at the end of this, not trusting a word we say, ever again. How many of them you may have just ruined Ateez for. Good luck fixing this hyung.” Mingi lectured Hongjoong, before getting up and leaving himself.

Hongjoong stared at the door as it closed behind Mingi, leaving the alpha in the room by himself, and suddenly everything felt like too much. He only wanted to protect his members. Ateez was his baby, he’s worked on every song and concept and he resented the company for forcing another member on them. For forcing him to now have to change the lore, the line distribution, to have to change it for every single title track. And they’re so close to their next comeback, how are they supposed to refilm music videos, re-record songs, on such short notice? He leaned over the desk, his head in his hands, and he felt tears fall. He had disappointed Seonghwa, Mingi, and probably the others too. He’d have to figure out a way out of this mess, and fix everything. He realized in that moment, just how much he had fucked up.

Hours later, after never hearing anything from their pack alpha, Seonghwa made the trip back to the same studio. Inside, he found Hongjoong in the same chair he left him in, his head laying on the desk and evidence of dried tear tracks on his cheeks. He sighed, leaving the studio temporarily, coming back with a blanket from Hongjoong’s personal studio and laying it over the alpha’s shoulders. He still didn’t want to talk to the man, but he wouldn’t leave him alone like this.

“Chan-hyung, can I ask you for a favor?”

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Taglist is: open!

[lovebugism]

i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

They only met once, but it changed their lives forever. 

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems. 

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore. 

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you. 

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough.  You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against. 

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles). 

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into. 

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary. 

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you. 

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”  

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her. 

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips. 

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means. 

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you. 

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds. 

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about. 

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place. 

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right. 

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week. 

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now. 

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie. 

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you. 

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call. 

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.” 

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting. 

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer. 

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell— you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat. 

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way. 

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye. 

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm. 

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing. 

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college. 

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs. 

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

 Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be. 

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching. 

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully. 

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease. 

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago. 

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need. 

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret. 

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure. 

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?” 

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading —  and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly. 

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious. 

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for. 

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry. 

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you. 

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him. 

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him. 

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you— Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so. 

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes. 

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you. 

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it. 

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?” 

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats. 

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling. 

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day. 

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down. 

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone. 

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him. 

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold. 

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler. 

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock. 

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.” 

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time.  “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are. 

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were. 

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?” 

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so. 

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.” 

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost. 

But it’s happened before. 

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight. 

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise. 

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak. 

You want him. 

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

[backtothefanfiction]

Hiii! i love your writing 😘 if your ok with writing this could i request some fluffy dad!felix catton if you have any in store?! again, totally understand if your uncomfortable writing this or just don’t want to 😊😊

It’s taken me a while to get to this because I’ve been struggling to find my way in when it comes to Felix as a Dad. I’m not sure if I do have a Dad!Felix fluff in me but I do have some thoughts/head canons on Felix as a Dad as a whole I’m slowly developing. So here are those…

Felix is all in in the newborn stage. It’s a novelty for him. The easy stage before they find their voices and start screaming the place down. When all you have to do is hold them, feed them, change them. He’s so there for that.

He’s happy to get up in the middle of the night, looking out the windows at the grounds with a baby in his arms, telling stories and recounting memories of his youth and that time running around the grounds with Farleigh and Venetia.

He loves see you with HIS child. He’s very protective. While you lie in his bed with tea and toast, feeding your child he shoos everyone else from the room, not wanting to share that sight or special time with anyone else in the family. Venetia is the only one who occasionally slips through the cracks. (She is a great aunt to your child by the way)

When the baby starts to grow older though he begins to struggle. You are a very hands on parent in comparison to him and he’s happy for you to be. After all his mother was very hands on with him and Venetia, however as a child he never saw his Dad there as much as his Mum and so has adopted a similar way of thinking that of his father and grandfather that fussing kids is a Mother problem.

Don’t get me wrong, he still loves showing up to be the fun dad. Running across the lawns with them. Enabling their hobbies and paying for anything they want. But when it comes to the hard stuff you feel completely abandoned.

As time goes on you realise you aren’t on the same wave length about parenting at all. And a lot of that has to do with Felix’s upbringing and family.

Elspeth is always there to step in and make a fuss, forcing herself on her grandchildren like she makes everything better, but often (especially if a child is already in a tantrum state it can sometimes make it worse until she just hands the child back and leaves you with a screaming child.

When Felix’s mates come knocking, asking him to go on golfing or skiing holidays with them it’s always “you’ve got this, haven’t you babe? Great. I love you. See you in a week.”

And because that’s how Felix was raised, what he observed from his family over the years, he honestly knows no better.

“If you’re struggling we can just get a Nanny.” He says when you confront him. It always has you seeing red. “I don’t want a Nanny Felix. I want US to raise our kids.”

You realise the only way things will change is if you all get out of that house and away from his family. So you give him the ultimatum: “it’s either us or your family.”

Of course it’s that honour in him, that unspoken traditional allegiance to your wife and kids that has him reluctantly agreeing, hoping in a few months you’ll see sense and see how difficult it is without all the servants and his daddy’s money. But you thrive, despite the way Felix shuffles his feet and does the bare minimum in protest.

After another argument where you tell him to show up or fuck off back to his family he finally takes you seriously and the more time he spends with you and your family and more modest hands on parenting and living styles he begins to thrive, seeing that the grass can be greener on the other side.

The more time away from his family he sees how toxic his families dynamic is. When you visit he sticks up for his kids and is protective of them when his parents begin to push their values and views on his kids.

You stand by him as he begins to put in boundaries and really analyse his life, his youth, his privilege and how it has in fact hindered him in life in so many basic ways. You support him and feel pride when he helps enforce those boundaries around his parents, his family as he ultimately gives them the same ultimatum you gave him all those years ago.

Although his father is reluctant, Elspeth is desperate to know her grandchildren and apologised to you both and promises to respect your parenting choices and swears to try and uphold those values in front of your children as much as she can.

With the new boundaries in place, summers in Saltburn become regular things for your kids. All of you playing together on the grounds. Chasing each other through the maze. Swimming in the pool and the lake.You and Felix set up scavenger hunts for your kids. And they ultimately grow up with the best of both worlds.

So yeah. Those are my more realistic Dad Felix thoughts. Tell me what you think….

[beenbaanbuun]

Hi hi! I hope life is treating you well and you’re drinking lots of water and resting well!

I would love to hear your thoughts on dragon!San the brainrot for him has been real lately 😭💖

so this actually changed the chemical infrastructure of my brain and i couldn’t decide how to write it so i hope this is okay 😭😭

——————————————————————————

so ask anyone who i speak to on a regular basis and this is all i’ve been able to talk about for days because i have so many ideas for it

arguably too many for me to even begin to think about structuring them in a way that makes sense…

but hey, we can try right?

so initially my first thought was ‘omg, i’m going to make this little guy so sad…’ and i will! but i promise it will make sense

so san is a people person—or dragon, i guess—right? sure, he’s a little shy but at the end of the day, you can tell he loves being around people

all throughout his childhood he wanted nothing more than to work with kids, maybe be a teacher or something! he’s good at helping people, right?

it just sucks for the poor guy that as he got older, he started to get bigger, his nails started to grow into something akin to talons, and his canine teeth became sharp and menacing

there’s a reason you never really see any dragon-hybrid teachers…

the day san got kicked off of his teacher-training course was probably the saddest day of his life, but at least he had you at home! the most precious jewel in all of his hoard…

honestly, san would love nothing more than to keep you bundled up in his den, wrapped in all six of his limbs—are wings limbs?—to keep you protected from the outside world

realistically, though, he’s all too aware of a humans needs to keep you indoors

you’re like a houseplant with the way you need sun to survive

he also knows that you need to work, since it’s borderline impossible for him to get a job

he’s too scary to work with people, too drawn to shiny things to work with money and too underqualified to work a 9-5

he always feels guilty that you’re the main breadwinner for the household, but he doesn’t mind being a house-husband all that much

he’s more than content taking care of his hoard, after all, and since you are his most prized possession…

speaking of his hoard, it’s kind of littered about the apartment, although most of it is in your bedroom

necklaces and jewels hang from the living room’s light, making it look closer to a chandelier than a regular lampshade

gold and silver appliances are his favourite making the kitchen look somewhat gaudy in comparison to what it originally looked like

as for your bedroom, it looks rather similar to howl’s…

in fact san was almost giddy when you first showed him howl’s moving castle, pointing at the screen with a wicked grin on his face

“see! its not just me who likes to decorate like this!”

you don’t have the heart to tell him that howls moving castle is just make believe and no one decorates like him…

but you suppose it’s not so bad; san dusts it from time to time and the things that dangle from the ceiling are perfect for you to zone out and stare at whenever san is rushing around looking for something to clean you up with after fucking you dumb :)

because let’s be real, dragon!san definitely has a huge cock to match the rest of his body

and despite his sweet demeanour outside of the bedroom, he’s an absolute demon inside of it

he’s possessive, more than anything, so if you ever come home smelling of anything other than him, then you best believe you’re being whisked away to the bedroom the second you step food through the front door

hands will be on you before you even know it, talons tearing at clothes and stripping you naked before you even get chance to tell him that this shirt is far too expensive to tear

you don’t even get much chance to protest after he’s torn it from you either because his lips will be on yours and his forked tongue will already be lapping at the inside of your mouth like his life depends on it

everything happens so quick because he’s just so desperate to make sure you know that you’re his again

he needs each one of your senses to be filled by him, he needs your mind to only think of him, he needs your pussy to be dripping with him

he knows he doesn’t own you but he needs to feel like he does

when he’s like this, it’s always quick. he needs to fuck you hard and fast before that strange smell that doesn’t belong to him sinks into your skin and stays there forever!

it’s purely instinct driven, really…

and maybe later he’ll take you for round two, only this time he wants to actually savour you

now you smell like him again, he can relax as he forces his cock inside of you

he can take his time kissing you and making you feel like the most beautiful person alive

he can let his hands trace every inch of your body, appreciating every dip and curve you have

and once it’s over, he can sit there with his cock still plugging you up and appreciate your blissed out face as you recover from what can only be described as a heavenly experience

[bu-blegh-ost]

Let's analyze Captain Rose's final message (ep. 113 spoilers!!!)

I have transcribed the entire thing into my notes, and there are few parts that I believe give us some subtle hints to important lore bits. So let's take a look at these fragments, shall we?

"Even with the Emperor’s gracious accommodations, I can never feel at ease unless I’m sleeping on the sea. Tomorrow, we depart this beautiful country for one last ride."

Nothing that crazy here, but now we have a better grasp at the timeline. So this confirms, that the last place Black Rose Pirates have been to, before they departed for the final adventure led by Hendrix's map was Onowa Country, and judging by what comes next, the chest was also created and left there during that last stay.

"But…if you’re hearing this, it means we all died."

If you recall, Drey mentioned few episodes back, that thier final excursion was of little significance, barely worth remebering. But here Rose is, about to embark on it, his last adventure before he retires, and he believes that he's going to die. That they all are. Rose must have hidden the true importance of this adventure from the rest of his crew. He KNEW that it's very likely they are not coming back from it, he KNEW he is not actually retiring. So, the question is, did Rose truly meant to leave life at sea for his wife and children, or did he chose to retire cause he knew he was about to die and he needed an excuse, to tie all the loose ends before he goes without alarming anyone?

"Even so, freedom can look so different for the individual. Not every pirate’s gonna play fair. I’ve been prepping for this moment a long time. The day I’d be outmaneuvered."

Something happened to Rose before that. If you ask me, something must have been put on Rose. A spell? A deal perhaps? Something must have happened between Rose and Hendrix (I can't be sure it was him ofc, but I feel like it is pretty obvious at this point). The map he gave him was a final retirement gift. Whatever happened, Hendrix surely did or offered something that made Rose unable to refuse the last adventure. Rose was forced to open the Hole in the Sea. He was forced to attempt to free the Nameless Prince, and he knew, he is bringing his crew to possible death. He knew they may not make it out of the sea in time, before whatever he had to do takes effects, before the sea turns black. I don't believe he would do this if he could find another way. This line makes me feel like he was tricked, finally cornered by Hendrix. It would also make sense why Rose never listened to Finn's warnings when he told him abt Hendrix hiding his true arcane ability. It's possible he knew already. It's possible he was already chained by it.

"Now I fear, we’ll be remembered for something we didn’t do."

The hole in the sea. The one thing people always mention when Black Rose pirates are concerned. He was right. But it only proves, that Rose in this entire game was a tool. Just a person forced to do another's bidding, to be at the right place, at the right time. A sacrifice, but not a player. Niklaus told Chip it was Rose who opened the Hole in the Sea. And he was right, kinda. TECHNICALLY it was Rose. But he was not acting of his free will. He was forced to do it. And who made him? Well, probably the one person who knows that it was him.

"Anyways, I think I should have cared about how my friends would remember me. My family…"

A beautiful comparison between Chip and Rose. Rose sought fullfillment, legacy, Chip sought to recreate his childhood, but they both realised that what they always wanted in the end was family. Rose realized it too late, Chip did so on time. And he did manage to create a family he can feel content about, be proud of. Rose's story is a reminder for him, of how things could have ended.

"If my wife is still alive, tell her, tell our child, her child, I’m sorry."

Rose left Onowa knowing he will not retire. He knew he lied to his wife when he told her that he'll raise their child with her. Did he ever mean it? Did he know that he is doomed from the start, or was there a true intention of going back to her, before Hendrix came and his fate was sealed? Also, that makes me think that Reuben is not Rose's biological son. "OUR child" refers to the kid they had together, "HER child" might refer only to his wife's son, to Reuben. Still, he must have cared for him enough to decide that he also deserved apology.

"Thanks for coming to look for us. I knew you would.

Take care, Chip. "

I wonder if he actually knew. Could Hendrix promise him that Chip would be saved? He didn't seem to expect anyone else to make it, so it's possible that either Chip was supposed to play a special role in some way, or maybe he already did, or he was guaranteed to make it out alive regardless of the circumstances to make the journey he is on now. That could mean that Riptide Pirates were truly always destined to meet.

Okay, that will be most of my thoughts! Feel free to share yours!

[venusgirltarot]

What Is Blocking You From Personal Growth?

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

If you would like a personal reading from me, you can get one here! (Today is the last day to order a personal reading before they close!)

Photos used in this reading are not mine :)

Pile One ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Pile one, I think your lack of boundaries with those around you is what’s blocking you from personal growth. For some of you, this could be an ex and others this might be family, possibly an aunt, mother, or sister. For some, it’s all of the above. This may be you helping those around you out financially and it could also be people around you draining your energy. For a lot of you, it’s both. You’re filling other people’s cups until yours is completely empty and it’s leaving you drained and exhausted. You need to take a step back and reevaluate. Some of you may have cut off or blocked out someone in your life who tried to show you this and tell you what I’m telling you now. Only take that if it resonates. Please know that you don’t owe anyone anything and if someone is meant to be in your life, you won’t have to force it or give away any part of yourself in order to make them stay there. Pay attention to the way you feel after talking to or spending time with people. Notice how your energy changes and what makes you feel drained and what makes you feel fulfilled. Go after what makes you feel fulfilled and do it unapologetically. I heard “you deserve more” your guides really want you to release these people and have more for yourself. I heard “stop giving your all to them”.

Some of you could be lawyers or just have some sort of career that you had to get a degree for or you’re working on your degree right now and you might be the first of your family members to go to college/university. I heard “notice that accomplishment” and “be proud of that” for some reason, I’m getting the vibe that these people in your life may use that against you? I’m not sure how they do it but maybe they credit themselves for you being able to go to school? Like if this is a parent they may think them pushing you the way they did is what got you to follow this path so therefore you wouldn’t have achieved this accomplishment if it weren’t for them. I hope that makes sense. My point is, that’s not true and you are where you are because you got yourself there and you owe nothing to people who are not deserving of your time/energy. If no one has told you today, Pile One, please know that I am proud of you and all your accomplishments and know that you do not owe anyone anything. What you have is yours and only yours, don’t let those who are undeserving try and take that away from you. Also, don’t be afraid to reach out to any connections you’ve lost due to your loyalty tho those around you who may have not been very deserving of that loyalty.

Pile Two ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

What’s blocking you from personal growth is comparison. When I was shuffling, I heard “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo and “Jealousy, Jealousy” also by Olivia Rodrigo. Pile Two, you may have struggled with insecurities and comparison from a very young age. This may be an awful habit that you’ve carried with you into adulthood. It could have started with an older sibling. Some of you may have a much older sibling, possibly one that was a teenager when you were a child. Idolizing and looking up to this older sibling may have quickly become a way of unhealthy comparison for you. You may have found your identity in this comparison and soon went on to look for yourself by comparing yourself to others throughout childhood and now as an adult.

You’ve completely changed yourself in order to “fit” into a certain type or in order to become a certain person but you’re chasing an ideal and beauty standard that simply doesn’t exist. You’re just in a never ending battle with yourself that will only end in exhaustion. You also may have spent a lot of money or clothing, products, cosmetic procedures for some of you. Some of you may have even gone into debt or gone through a lot of credit cards (that specific message may not resonate, only take it if it resonates for you).

Sitting here and telling you to just stop would be useless and not very helpful, especially considering this seems to be something you’ve done your whole life. I think it is best for you moving forward to maybe look into therapy and start taking apart this idea and image that you have of yourself and really getting to the root of the problem. This is a mindset that you’ve really built into yourself and it won’t disappear over night but you can overcome this with the necessary time, dedication, and professional help.

I don’t think you realize how beautiful of a person you are, Pile Two. You are someone worth getting to know. Not only by others but by yourself, as well. Take the time to get to know you, I promise it will be worth while. Inside and out, you’re a beautiful person and there’s no need to compare yourself to those around you. You may even seek out friends that represent what and who you want to be as a person so you can sort of take bits and pieces of their personality and make them apart of yourself if that makes sense. What you don’t realize is how much those around you look up to and admire you, the real you and not the you that you have created and try to portray. They see the value in you that you’re ignoring and love you for who you truly are and you should really try to do the same, Pile Two. Pulling cards and spending a little time in your energy, I can safely and surely say that you are an outstanding human being, Pile Two, and I hope you see that in yourself some day.

Pile Three ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Fear is what is holding you back from your own personal growth, Pile Three. You seem to break your own heart before anyone else gets the chance to and hide behind walls that you’ve built for yourself. You may look for the flaws in people very early on in knowing them as almost an excuse to turn in the other direction and run and it’s really just a way to get out before you end up being the one to get hurt but in reality, you end up hurting others with good intentions by doing this.

You may currently have some sort of loge connection/relationship that you’re really fighting. You want this but because of your past and mistrust for people, you’re looking for warning signs and any reason to run away as far and as fast as possible but this person isn’t giving you anyway so you may be sort of giving them yourself by overthinking every situation, just to try to create red flags and get out. You’re denying yourself something you really want because you’re afraid of what it could be and considering all you’ve been through, that’s understandable. But what if this could work out? What if it could be greater than you ever imagined? What if it could be the best decision you’ve made in a long time? You’ll never find the answer to these questions if you run away from something that you have no reason to run from.

You’re a bit of your own worst enemy, Pile Three. I won’t give you some bs love reading and tell you something about how this person is your soulmate and you’ve found the one, partly because I don’t believe in going about readings that way and it’s just not the vibe I’m getting but also partly because I think you’d panic and immediately click off this reading if I said that 😭 but I will say that I think sticking around and seeing where this goes is a good idea. No need for rushing, labels, etc. but it’s okay to stay where awhile and see where it takes you. Let go of fear just this one time and find out that you had nothing to worry about in the first place. You don’t have to lose yourself in this, your identity won’t be stripped away from you and you don’t have to morph yourself into this person for them to love you, just give it a chance and see where it goes.

Some sort of semi-serious (I’m saying semi-serious because I don’t want to scare you. I don’t think it’s anything crazy) conversion might he in the horizon with this person. Again, nothing crazy. There may just be some romantic tension between the two of you that needs to be addressed. This seems light hearted and like this person wants a better feel/idea of where you stand. It’s okay to tell them you don’t want labels and you want to see where this goes. Just be honest with your feelings and where you stand. Your person might be under the influence when having this conversation as well. Maybe they reach out when they’re a little tipsy and have some liquid courage in them. Again, don’t be afraid. This is the natural next step in this connection but is in no way meant to rush or push things ahead.

Breathe, Pile Three. You’re okay, you’re doing to be okay. You are safe and so is this connection. Be open to the idea of this connection but don’t give more of yourself than you are ready to in this moment and be honest with this person and where you stand/how you feel. Your intuition has been telling you that everything is okay and I think you’ve been ignoring it. Follow your intuition, trust it. It will never guide you wrong.

[put-them-thangs-away]

while i figure that out, not sure if anyone has done it yet, but i want to do a little dive into the basics of the tarot cards used in this jack & joker episode, now that i actually have a moment and can do more than just the basic off the top of my head readings. i’ll be using the golden thread tarot deck mostly because i like how concise it is and also its more accessible to me right now underneath my sleeping dog than my shelf of decks in my room lmao. this is gonna be,,,, real long probably so all the details will be under the cut, if you wanna join me for my rambling:

fun little sidenote before i get started: when i went to begin discussing why i love the use of tarot and nang’s characterization specifically, my card of the day that i drew was the Queen of Swords which is like 100000% The Nang Card™️ lol [complexity, perceptive, clear mindedness etc.]

“a woman of immense complexity, sometimes considered cold-hearted, but also sharp of mind and wit, independent and possessing great powers of organization and analysis.” i won’t go down the rabbit hole of sword suits as a whole bc that’s not the point of this post and so far the show hasn’t gone into minor arcana, so i’m just gonna say HMMMMM very inch resting timing,,,,, anyways,,,

now, of course i have to start with joke’s card and its myriad of double meanings. in just about any piece of media, if you see The Fool card it should automatically be flagged as a red herring. it’s meant for you to look at it and take it at face value based on the words and image…. much like our four little idiots did when first shown their cards. like JOKE YOU GOT THE FOOL BECAUSE YOU’RE A DUMBASS LOL! and he’s the joker so of course he would also be the fool, yes? unfortunately for our little baby clown, the actual symbolism of the card is childlike innocence and naivety, often to their own detriment. it speaks of blank slates, new beginnings, and the start of a journey. “he does not know the dangers that can beset him during his travels, and thus he stumbles forward with complete optimism, never suspecting that he may be walking in a thin tight rope.” oof yikes. sound familiar? nang rly read that boy for filth huh,,,, aside from the obvious heavy handed post-prison clean slate, we’ve also got the metaphor connected to jack’s forgiveness and starting their relationship over. there’s a lot more to be said here as well about how naive joke can be when thinking he’s doing the right thing and that his choices are for the sake of someone else, without clearly seeing the consequences their may be for that person as a result of his actions. at the risk of Never Shutting Up About It, i will have to make myself move on.

i’ll get into tattoo’s card next because it’s really interesting to me that he was assigned The World, which I kind of would have thought would be a card assigned to jack instead. i see what they were going for in this episode with it, i think, but it felt a bit shallow in comparison, so there may be more in relation to this that we have yet to see. as The Fool is the first card (0) in the major arcana, The World is the final card (21). this card symbolizes an ending of a cycle of life, specifically before the beginning of a new cycle of life. it’s an indicator of major and inescapable change. throughout this episode, we see the shift in tattoo’s heart and priorities being held up in comparison to their past heist through some pretty straightforward parallels, so from that angle, The World makes perfect sense. (especially since one reading of The World when in reverse is inertia & stagnation) tattoo wanting to run in and save joke when he thinks he’ll be caught in the heist is our window in to see The World changing. that being said i find it interesting that this card would be chosen for him since it sort of,,,, kickstarts the journey for The Fool and is generally somewhat,,,, final. so i’m just reeeaaaalllllyyyy hoping that this does not mean tattoo has to actually end his cycle in any way other than metaphorical for the other to continue. the man has grown on me, what can i say? 😭 we’re just gonna ignore all those warning bells in my head and choose to go with the “accomplishment and fulfillment from both inner and outer sources” reading. yup.

then we’ve got arun, whose card is The Moon, which is double fun because arun’s name means dawn/sunrise. there’s a lot of meaning that could be extrapolated here, but based on tattoo’s card seeming on surface level to be about the state of his heart and his involvement in this little found family, i’m going to guess that arun’s is the same. The Moon card symbolizes intuition, the unconscious, illusion, and deception. it can be read as a signal of something being not as it appears, a truth you cannot admit to yourself, instincts that we have buried in our unconscious, among other things. this card being chosen for arun actually actively makes me more nervous than tattoo getting The World lol. if we choose to read it at surface value, could just be that in this heist he had to follow intuition, and got himself turned around in the process (eagle statue etc), or just generally that he did not previously appear capable, but here he is helping this mission be pulled off. with the opening scene of arun crying about missing his dad and that,,,, not really getting resolved actually,,,,,, that makes me wonder about some alternate reading options, but like,,,,,, i don’t want to. so. Simply going to close my eyes on that one! no thanks!

then of course there’s everyone favourite head empty good boy, hoy, who was assigned The Star card. out of all the card readings, this boy got the most straightforward one and i’m trying not to read too much into that since they were all assigned by nang and my brain hasn’t quite caught up to [handwaves] whatever she and hoy have got going on over there. this card is symbolic of faith, optimism, and hope. so….. yeah hoy in a nutshell. not a whole lot more to add in there.

skipping The Heirophant card and The Tower card to come back to later because i have Some Theories there and they may make more sense after i go back and rewatch a few things

ANYWAYS if you read to the end of this thank you and i’m sorry please feel free to yell at me about it

[rainsfiction]

Been thinking about my Saltburn boys and how Farleigh is so obviously a Slytherin but with Oliver and Felix it could almost be any combination? Walk with me…

Slytherin Oliver and Hufflepuff Felix: Felix is a total sweetheart, a cutie patootie, the Cedric Diggory of his generation! Everyone loves him. He’s just so easy to love. Oliver is… well. He’s without a doubt the most knowledgeable student when it comes to the Dark Arts, there’s rumours that he’s a parselmouth and he moves in complete expressionless silence… Needless to say, everyone is shocked at their sudden relationship. How the two of them became close is a total mystery, and witnessing their intimacy feels like watching a legend in the making… but Felix smiles brighter now, and everyone has seen the small smiles Oliver directs at Felix, so you won’t catch anyone complaining.

OR

Ravenclaw Oliver and Gryffindor Felix: Popular, quidditch captain Felix who everyone admires and his bookworm, certified genius boyfriend Oliver. Oliver is the top student in all of his subjects, and that is a lot of subjects. He has no energy for stupidity, and enjoys studying alone… but for Felix he will always make an exception. Oliver will happily help Felix study, and the two of them can often be found in the library as Oliver re-explains concepts with all the patience in the world. Felix is a himbo at heart, but that’s okay! Who needs to think when you have the smartest boyfriend ever? Instead of stressing about school, he can focus on his future seeker career. Oliver will always be there to support him through exam season. Students are used to the spot of Ravenclaw colours in the Gryffindor stands. Oliver is always there with a book to read or an assignment to finish. “You’re my lucky charm Ollie! Who cares if you’re watching? I’m just happy with the comfort of knowing that whenever I look into the stands, you’ll always be there.”

OR

Hufflepuff Oliver and Slytherin Felix: Felix comes from a powerful pureblood family and he’s always been part of the elite. He may seem relaxed and lax a lot of the time, but he’s smarter than he looks. He’s silently top of a lot of his classes, and he won the Triwizard Tournament effortlessly. He’s charismatic and charming and Oliver being his best friend makes no sense to any of his Slytherin circles. Oliver is a soft spoken, soft hearted, Hufflepuff who’s muggle-born heritage means that he should never have been on Felix is radar. Felix is the most sought out match in pureblood society, so everyone is shocked – and Farleigh is completely unimpressed – when it looks like Felix might genuinely be courting Oliver. (All the other students don’t get why all that pureblood nonsense even matters. Sure it’s sad to realise that Felix is off the market, but have you seen him with Oliver?! Oliver’s usually so reserved, but he absolutely glows when Felix is around. Felix can be pretty cocky sometimes, but with Oliver he mellows out and he can be so soft and sweet. Oliver is so timid that he barely notices, but everyone else can see that Felix looks absolutely smitten whenever Oliver’s around. It’s the purest love story, and all that exhausting blood purity stuff pales in comparison).

OR

i could go on and on about every possible house dynamic but i’m not sure if anyone else cares so i’ll stop here for now and say to be (possibly) continued

[searenbound]

Can I request an heifer reader that has two newborn sons? (It can be fluff if you want!)

She was moved from her old farm because hers was abusive and with that she grew more aggressive, if anyone or any of the cows/bulls she will nip them hard or kicks them and with that bakugo starts to have a liking to them and is willing to wait for her to warm up to him and will father her two calf’s?

(If not you can ignore this plus I love your stories!!)

Only because I miss Bakubull, but fun fact! Only young cows who haven’t had a calf yet are called heifers. Just fluff for now but if anyone wants to give me a reason to make a smutty little sequel I wouldn’t be opposed

Warnings: swearing, mentions of past abuse, hybrid au, hybrids being kept as live stock, fem reader with she/her pronouns, written with plus size reader in mind, single mom! reader technically a cliffhanger ending

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

“My boys aren’t going anywhere with you!” she had snorted and snuffed at some pushy bull her first day there. Nipping and snapping when he tried to push her anyways in some sort of asinine attempt to show her he was no threat, because obviously a frightened young mother with her background is gone accept some assholes ‘help’ with her calves when he’s stupidly grabbing for them with insistence that he could help.

Like something like that doesn’t potentially lead to something awful happening to those calves. Like she hasn’t been through traumatic shit at her last farm that made her apprehensive to trust anyone but herself and her newborns.

Not the other cows who cooed at the sight of the new babes and offered help with the feedings, and certainly not any bull who’s motivates where unclear and very well could be an attempt to gain a new cow to breed instead of genuine care.

Bakugou found himself watching in silent wonder and slight disgust as they all crowded it her like they weren’t told how they needed to be careful and patient with her. It was beyond him how he, a bull who was the picture perfect example of his title, had internalized this when the ‘non-problem’ cattle hadn’t.

He would have stopped it himself by intervening, but before he could even stand to move, she was kicking up dirt as a warning before charging the larger bull for not taking her seriously. Her horns just nubs in comparison to his and her stature much smaller, but she held her own and proved appoint.

And maybe that’s what sparked his interest? Maybe it was the gentle way she regarded her boys? The little hint of joy in her eyes which she goes a particularly enjoyable treat that hinted at what she was like before the trauma?

Or maybe it was the fact she was a touch like himself not too long ago, scared and confused and covering it up with aggression to create a sense of superiority and strength so no one touched her or those calves.

Whatever it was it had him in a vicious little vice grip.

“You know, those idiots are wrong for how they’ve gouged about it, but they have a point”.

“And how the hell do you know that huh? How do I even know if you’re any different?”

He shrugged at that, watching her boys playing with the ring toys their handlers gave them, she didn’t have any reaction to trust him like she said but he was determined to prove her wrong.

“It’s been what? Four? Five months? None of us have done anything wrong yet”.

“Doesn’t mean you won’t, last place was good until it wasn’t too”.

“Well you didn’t have me there did you? I’ll killed anyone before they lay a finger on those calves or you”.

She snorted at that. He’s hung around them and kept other’s from bothering her and the boys, an attempt to win her over to breed her then throw her aside to be picked on by the other buzzards that called themselves cattle. He was self serving like any other bull, she was sure.

“Stop thinking I’m like the rest, you have that written all over your face princess” he huffed cutting her off before a word passed her parted lips. “Don’t fuckin’ care how long it takes, I’ll prove I’m better than them. Promise I’ll take care of those boys if you let me, take good care of you too”.

And maybe it was that soft little gleam, more of a glimmering spark, in his carmine eyes, but she wanted him to. It didn’t seem so bad an idea to let him father her boys, maybe even give her some of his own if he were so lucky. A thought that flustered her greatly when it ran through her head.

[mvltisstuff]

Hi, I loved you recent fic about reader being Eddies sister, it was amazing.

Can we get a part two with reader and Buck getting to know each other and then eventually dating at the end 🙏

Love your fics keep up the good work.

mr. rager (cont.) - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @evanbuckleydaily

a/n: ok so eddie had the spotlight in part one but this is bucks part 🤭 this is a bit of a shorter one but i hope you like it 💗

“eddie,” y/n complained. “i really don’t think i want to start anything-“

“c’mon, he’s nice! i’ve known him for a while i swear he’s a good guy,” eddie attempts to convince y/n again.

“i know, i’ve met him before. i get that you have some weird obsession with him and me but pipe down.”

“alright! i’m just saying he is an option.”

truth? y/n and buck have been going out for weeks. they’ve been hanging out and getting dinner and they actually hit it off. she realized that there’s people out there who understand her. growing up, she felt more alone than anyone. until she found buck and his radiance, he were someone to confide in. buck always was the spotlight of criticism when he was being raised. between his parents and comparisons of him and maddie, it was intolerable, so he left. similar to y/n.

they knew all too well that eddie was trying to get them together, but why not try to mess with him? they figured they wanted to sneak around a bit, act like teenagers again. sure, eddie would be pissed, but y/n was gleaming with buck. buck knew she was different from all of the girls he’s been with. abby, ally, taylor, didn’t have the elements that y/n did when she came into the room. the elements that buck needed.

they were both surprised when the other started spitting out their exact feelings, finishing their sentences like they were a psychic. it was scary at the beginning. y/n figured those issues would eventually crash together, causing damage that couldn’t reverse. she couldn’t bear to lose buck so early on.

as mentioned, they were continuously sneaking around, avoiding eddie and people who could say something. so usually, they were just at buck or y/n’s apartment where no one could bother them. y/n was laying on bucks bed, propped up on her elbows with bucks lips pressed against hers. her hands rubbed against his forearms as his were keeping himself above her, loving on her neck and admiring her lips. they stayed in that position until y/n sat up, running her hands through bucks growing hair and letting them fall to his jaw.

bucks shift had ended a few hours ago, and after long hours of working, he texted y/n, wanting her to come over. so there they were, making out in bucks small apartment.

“when do you have to go to work?”

“don’t worry about it,” buck smiles, continuing to kiss her.

“just wanna know how much time we have,” she smirks and the knocking on bucks front door interrupts them. “clearly not as much as i had hoped.”

“ugh,” buck groans, planting one more quick peck on y/n’s lips before rushing downstairs to peek into the peephole. his heart races when he sees his best friends figure waiting by the door, six-pack in his hand. “shit!”

“what’s wrong-“

“go in the bathroom, it’s your brother!” buck whisper-yells.

“why is he here?” y/n asks, frantically trying to decide what to do.

“i’ll cover for you, just, i’m so sorry,” he stutters and moves to open the door. y/n locks herself in bucks bathroom, standing there until eddie leaves. “uh, hey! what’s up?” he asks awkwardly.

“nothing much… bad time?”

“no! no, you’re good,” buck moves to let eddie in. he’s trying to make it seem less suspicious, so he just decides to let him stop by for a few minutes. “i just woke up anyway.”

“makes sense, your hairs a mess,” eddie says, making bucks eyes widen and run his fingers through it. “relax, buck. what’s got you so on edge?”

“me? i’m fine!”

“alright,” eddie replies, not believing a word of his act. “i was gonna see if y/n was busy, but she didn’t answer her phone.”

“is she at work?”

“no, her shift would have ended a while ago,” eddie tells him. “here, i’m gonna call her again.”

“are you sure?” buck spits. “it’s just, maybe she’s asleep? or out with people? or on a date?”

“c’mon, it’s y/n. i’m just gonna make sure she’s ok,” eddie presses her name on his phone and buck immediately knows his fate. he’s screwed, basically. eddie would be pissed if he found out they didn’t tell him. shouldn’t they have said something sooner? it doesn’t matter now, because he’ll find out anyway. eddie unfortunately notices the distinct ringtone of y/n’s coming from above, on his nightstand. buck tries to cover it up by coughing, but eddie just puts his phone down.

“nice try, buck,” he crosses his arms. “where is my sister?”

“i-i don’t know what you mean-“

“y/n?” eddie shouts, knowing that she’s been hiding in there somewhere. even in the bathroom, she silently curses buck, trying to figure out which part of his brain told him to do this. no turning back now, though. she flicks the lock and pulls the door open, smiling awkwardly as she steps out of the bathroom. “come down here.”

she steps down, carefully incase she has to make a run for it. maybe she should do that anyway, just escape to el paso from the pure embarrassment she feels.

“and how long have you been seeing each other and not telling me?”

“oh, you know just a-“

“four months.” buck speaks, quickly and it’s barely inaudible.

“sorry, did you say four months?” eddie exclaims. “why didn’t you say anything?”

“you had your fair share of sneaking around growing up? i’m a grown woman, i can see whoever i want. and buck is a grown man, he can make his own decisions.”

“i’m not mad, i’ve just been trying to make this work for months!”

“well, congrats,” buck adds. eddie takes a beer from the pack and takes the lid off.

“tía owes me $20,” he adds, taking a sip of the beer.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Hello RTA,

Thank you for your unbiased blog of all things. I tend to agree with most of your positions and analyses. And they say common sense is dead. Lol.

I saw on another blog today a comparison of Queen Letiza embracing the President of Columbia on a former visit, and the other today of the pretender doing the same to the VP. It looked like Letizia cosplay to a tee. I wonder how Felipe feels about this? The blog insinuated that there was some ulterior political motive on the part of the VP, she’s making checkers moves against the President.

My question is, do you think the Spanish RF will exert any pressure on Charles? Someone today did a reading on the family meeting next week, and the result was abysmal. Charles will not act, according to the cards. He’s all sentimental and twisted up inside over H mummy Diana and his darling boy. Do you then think that the Spanish RF will act in concert with William or Anne who seems to want to end this sh** show? I would like to believe it could happen with Columbia being a former colony and all. They speak the language still for goodness sake. And I’m sure there are stronger ties behind the scenes.

Thanks for reading.

I don't know. I don't follow the Spanish royals so I can't really speak to any kind of relationship they may or may not have with the BRF. Sorry, anon!

For what it's worth, Charles won't change his approach towards Harry for anyone except to save his own skin from the UK public, just like Queen Elizabeth only made drastic, immediate changes to modernize when pushed to do so by the UK public.

(Before the anons come after me: Yes, Queen Elizabeth did a lot of modernization for the monarchy, but much of that modernization was slow, incremental progress. That's not what I'm talking about here. I'm talking about the incidents where the public response was so visceral that it caused an instantaneous, immediate change in palace protocol like Aberfan, Diana's death, and Andrew's interview.)

[still-breathing-au-p3r]

Aigis: Amada-san, your persona has changed. Why is this?

Just what in the world would Aigis want to ask him? Coming from her, it could be anything, and that makes him…a little nervous.

Almost everybody looks surprised– Mitsuru-san and Sanada-san both look surprised and interested, in a way that reminds him of every good-guy scientist he’s ever seen in a scifi movie. Fuuka-san is the only person who doesn’t. She could probably sense Kala-Nemi even before Aigis did and just hadn’t said anything.

Yukari-san groans and rolls her eyes, but Fuuka-san is hiding a smile again and Arisato-san is nodding with a sage and thoughtful expression. Aigis and Mitsuru-san both look like they have no idea what Junpei-san is talking about. 

Sanada-san’s face is interesting– he looks like he thinks it is a good comparison, but he isn’t thrilled about it. Ken is honestly surprised he even knows what Pokémon is. 

“Kinda?” Ken says. That feels like a diplomatic enough answer. It is the easiest comparison to make, even if it feels a little childish. 

“Do you know why your Persona would change?” Sanada-san asks. “When did it happen?”

“Um… It was last night, after we talked. I guess…it’s because I realized I didn’t need Nemesis anymore. She was there for me when I did, but now that I don’t, she turned into something else.”

Sanada-san glances over at Mitsuru-san, who has a knuckle pressed thoughtfully to her chin. “Have you ever heard of anything like this, Mitsuru?” He asks.

“Secondary awakenings have been considered possible in a theoretical sense for some time, yes,” Mitsuru-san says, sounding contemplative.  “A Persona is a mirror of its human user, after all, and human beings change and grow all the time. If an individual’s mental state changes enough– if they experience a dramatic shift in perspective, or acquire a new resolve, for example–  then it stands to reason that their Persona could change as well.” 

Sanada-san hums and crosses his arms. “That does make sense, but you make it sound like you’ve never actually seen it happen before. Amada’s the first person to have a second awakening, then?”

That can’t possibly be true– the Kirijo group has been researching Personas for at least ten years, right? Probably even longer than that. There’s no way that he’s the first person this has ever happened to... 

“The first that we have on record, yes,” Mitsuru-san replies. “There have been unsubstantiated reports, and some cases where it’s been speculated to have occurred, but never anything that could be confirmed.”

Ken shifts a little in his chair, feeling suddenly antsy with a weird combination of pride and something that’s kind of like– stage fright? “Would Ikutsuki-san or any of his research team want to–?”

“Absolutely not,” Mitsuru-san says, her voice suddenly sharp and fierce. 

Eyebrows go up all around the room. Mitsuru-san looks embarrassed and clears her throat. “I apologize for my tone,” she says, much more levelly. “It’s a fascinating development to be sure, and it’s– generous– of you to offer to help expand our understanding of Persona as a phenomenon–

“But there’s already a great deal being asked of you, Amada. I wouldn’t have you subjected to– additional pressures.”

Mitsuru-san mostly looks just as relaxed as she had before, but her hands are tense. Sanada-san watches her out of the corner of his eye.

Ken decides to drop the subject.

“Well,” Mitsuru-san says. “Unless anyone else has a particularly pressing question, I think it might be a good time for us to bring this meeting to a close. Is that alright with you, Amada?”

“That’s fine– I’m pretty tired.” He doesn’t realize how true that is until he says it– his whole body suddenly feels very heavy, and his bed has never seemed more inviting.

[hiyyihrts]

I'm not sure why anyone would be upset about Colin gaining experience when the whole point is him understanding why he's not as invested in that sort of thing because there's no emotional connection between him and his partners which in turn makes him examine his relationship with Penelope when he realizes how he feels about her. It's sex vs making love here and because he's yet to really be in love those experiences will pale in comparison to being with Penelope. That's the whole point. While some want Colin to be a virgin along with Penelope to gain that experience together, there's something to be said about Colin understanding he was doing it wrong hence why he felt nothing more than gratification, if that. He doesn't yet understand the act of making love because he's never been in it so he's merely sating a physical need. I would want him to have more practical knowledge than Penelope. The better to pleasure her with, you know?

No that totally makes sense anon!

I can’t speak for everyone but I’m not angry or anything over the choice of him being with other people before Penelope because, like you said, he probably doesn’t understand the difference between just purely sexual satisfaction and making love with some you cherish and care for. And we could be entirely wrong on this lol.

I personally wish we could see more tropes of teens/young adults falling in love and learning their sexual awakenings together. And I know the above and what I’m about to say isn’t the case with Polin, but I find a lot of the preferred romances to be a bit icky/a power imbalance with wanting someone who has so much experience being with someone who has none. It kind of gives me the ick anymore and that’s why I think it’d be nice to see something a bit different from time to time.

Again, not saying this is Polin at all or really any of the Bridgerton couples, it’s just something I’ve noticed within the genre as a whole that irks me.

[vrisrezis]

Hii! I loove your Rocket fics if you have time I have a request:

I would love to see a very nervous crushing Rocket that just refuses to accept his feelings for y/n (female) and does anything he can to avoid showing too much interest (with the result that for all the guardians its kinda obvious that he likes her even tho shes the only one that don’t actually get it, cliché)

Rocket has done everything he possibly could. Any lie he could come up with, any excuse, any reason not to see you. He had kept up with this for so long today. Now, the issue was that he did this… all the time. The two of you were friends at one point in time, and while that still proved to be the case, he was noticeably more distant. You had assumed maybe you had done something to upset him, but you weren’t exactly sure how to go about dealing with the issue at hand, you couldn’t possibly think of anything you could’ve done to him. You were always a kind individual, especially to rocket, knowing his temper and how easy it was to get on his bad side. Plus, it certainly helped that you liked him in the romantic sense. You had never told anybody about these feelings, apparently. As your conversation with gamora today proved that.

Gamora was somebody you knew you could ask for advice, as she was the only true sensible one here. And when it came to you, she never judged you. Maybe it was because you weren’t as weird as you thought yourself to be, especially in comparison to the shit quill and drax ask her for, but still.

“Wait… so you mean to tell me you’ve had feelings for rocket this whole time?” she said in surprise, and you let out a sigh of relief. “Yes! Thank god you haven’t noticed… good…” “what do you mean, good?!” she asked, absolutely flabbergasted. “What!?” you said, unsure yourself. “I-it’s just! I don’t want him to know that I like him!!”

She lets out a groan. One of those groans she lets out when she’s done with the guardians shit, namely rocket, quill and drax.

“Why wouldn’t you want him to know that? Don’t you want something out of your relationship? Something more?” and to that you shrug, “I mean sure! But what if he doesn’t like me back? I’m pretty sure he’s mad at me! That’s what I wanted to talk to you about!” you explain, and to that gamora looks even more confused. “What do you mean? Rocket doesn’t hate you?”

“But he keeps avoiding me!”

And to that, gamora takes a minute to answer back before saying upon her own realization, “oh.”

“Oh? What oh?! What are you oh’ing at?!”

“I’m just oh’ing at the fact that I just realized you’re just as much of a moron as the other guardians.”

Meanwhile, rocket had figured he’d done a good job at keeping his feelings towards you a secret. However, quill proved to him on this very night, he was very wrong.

“So… y/n, huh?” quill says with a big old grin on his face, which only gets wider as rocket yells in surprise, dropping his wrench and quickly turning around. “What?!” rocket asks, clearly surprised.

“You heard me. So, when you gonna tell them?” he asks, getting straight to the point. At this, rocket groans. “How did you know?” he asks, not even bothering to hide it. This shocks the Terran for a moment, but what shocks him even more was his question. “What do you mean? Anyone with a pair of eyes can tell you like them. Way to make it so obvious even mantis can tell without needing to touch you.” he says with a laugh, and rocket suddenly feels extremely embarrassed.

“Listen, if it makes you feel any better they haven’t caught on, like at all.”

And upon those words, his ears perk up a little.

“However,” Peter lifts a finger, “because they don’t know, I’m pretty sure they think you hate them.” he shrugs before whispering, “might wanna fox that”

Rocket groans, putting his face in his hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “Not kidding you dude, I have nothing to gain from lying, honestly your blatant pining is painful for all of us to watch. Just tell them already so I no longer have to suffer.”

“How the hell am I even supposed to-” rocket cuts himself off, groaning once again. “This suuuccks!!” “Tell me about it man, how do you think I felt when I realized I fell in love with a hot girl like gamora.” “Oh shut up quill.”