#I'm gonna give him a mane eventually | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queenimmadolla · 2 years ago

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • eddie edit © @fefemunson! • ao3

Summary: After four long years of pining, it’s high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there’s no better time for love confessions than Valentine’s Day. If only you hadn’t chosen to do so anonymously, because you’re pretty sure Eddie Munson is hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff

authors note: no, you're not imagining things. i'm reposting a story i already have up. unfortunately, i seem to have an anti who has been flagging anything of mine that gains traction as content that it is not so it's hidden to those who don't have the settings on (most people) and goes to die away, never to be interacted with again. they're attempting to do the same to Magical Mysteria, as they had the original flagged and, therefore, hidden. because everyone seemed to really relate to reader and enjoyed reading this particular fic, i've decided to give that anti the finger, so here's a repost.

word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

“Are you stalking him again?”

You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking.

“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school��s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time.

Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you.

You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

“I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her.

“Can you leave this on his desk?”

“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them.

She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything.

You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.

During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place.

You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so.

You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there.

The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then.

The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him, you just had to write your name.

Yeah, simple as that.

You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper.

You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

Just write on the paper.

Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

—

Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him.

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous. He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around.

He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking.

The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared.

By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public.

He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance.

“Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

“I swore.”

Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump.

“Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

──

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich.

“No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone.

Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note.

“Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason behind why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

─

Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table.

His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, was on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

“Eddie?”

His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

“On the house.”

“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

Was she playing coy?

“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping, if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

Chrissy glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

“It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him.

“So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

“Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

“‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

“It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.”

Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there.

He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies.

“Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis.

He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down.

“She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

“I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

Eddie,

Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real.

She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the underclassmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it).

And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying.

But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should.

You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel.

So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

Love,

What the fuck?

Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

There was no name.

“NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear.

His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose.

The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

“Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular.

“Byers. Where’s Byers?”

“His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness.

It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards.

He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

“Is this yours?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“No.” Then he walked out.

Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

His secret admirer’s pen.

“What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party.

It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme.

He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author.

Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door.

Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection.

He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

“Hey, you okay?”

─

Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were.

Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party.

You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

“Hey, you okay?”

You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you��d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

“I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.”

Try devastated.

“You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

“You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

“That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you.

“Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

“Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

“Ah, I see. Is he here?”

You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

“Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

“No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

“That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

“Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

“Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

“I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

“Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

“Because I have no idea who she is.”

Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

“What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

“Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

“Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

“Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that.

“I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

You frowned down at him.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Hello.

Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

“Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.”

Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

“Is that my pen?”

“Huh?”

“My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked.

When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

“What?”

He finally blinked, licking his lips again.

“You’re a really good liar.”

“What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

“This is your pen?”

“Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

“This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

“Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

“That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

“Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public.

“I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

“What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?”

You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack.

“Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

“Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?”

“No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

“Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

“Is Eddie looking for you?”

“Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken.

“He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

“Yes!”

“Then why would he be looking for you?”

You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder.

“I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger.

Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle.

Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you.

It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

“Hi, again.”

You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

“Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

“You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

“It’s only fair, right? Since I know?”

You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

He didn’t leave you waiting for long.

“I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it.

“I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

“And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

“I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you.

“And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath.

There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions.

He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you��d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

“You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

“They’re not the only ones.”

Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

— You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did.

Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear.

“I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

“Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated.

With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

“Like ‘em?”

You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

“Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

“I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

“Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

“Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

“For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

“He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

“Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

“That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses.

“. . . You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

─

Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.

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munsonsprincess11111 · 11 months ago

Text

My fucking rockstar.

Rockstar eddie munson x reader

Summary: the paparazzi are all over Eddie and his new mysterious girlfriend that they've never seen. However they have seen her Eddie and her have just kept there relationship well hidden.

Laying in bed on Eddie's chest. His breathing is calm. His arm around your waist. And holding your hand. He has an award thing later and wants you to go. Are you anxious as this would be your first thing like this even though you've been dating for years before Eddie was even famous? Yes.

People recently discovered you as Eddie's girlfriend when someone saw you both having coffee and holding hands took pictures and posted them. Eddie stirs awake groaning.

"Morning sweet thing." HE says kissing your head.

You smile up at him brushing the stray curls out his face. "Ready for your first award thing n being my hot date everyone's gonna be jealous of?" HE says smirking. You nod.yiur nervous but it'll be OK as long as your with Eddie.

Eddie looks at the cock snd it read 12:55. "Fuck we really should get up weve gotta be there by five n the car gets here at 4." HE groans running a hand over his face. You get out of bed grabbing Eddie's hand and pull him up into sitting. Once he's sat up you let his hand go and he throws himself back on the bed.

"Suit yourself I'm gonna go shower..." You say walking out of your bedroom into the on suite bathroom. When Eddie hears the water Eddie gets up quickly drops his boxers in your bedroom and runs into the bathroom getting in the shower with you kissing you from behind making you jump.

Your pulling up to the award show. Eddie's holding your hand. "You'll be fine ok. I aint going anywhere n plus we've got a table of us 2 n the other three boys. That's it." HE says trying to reassure you kissing you softly.

The car stops and Eddie opens the door getting out. Cameras going off immediately. He turns and puts his hand to you. You take it and get out the car. People gasp when he's seen with you. Eddie being Eddie kisses you on the lips giving the cameras what they want before putting his arm over your shoulder and walking in. You hold his hand that's over your shoulder and smile at Eddie's actions knowing he doesn't care n he will show love to you cameras or not.

As you enter the event Eddie throws his middle finger back at the cameras with arm that isn't around you.

Eddie woke up hung over in bed. They won the award but he had a bit much to drink. He saw you on your phone when he woke up. "U OK?" You look over asking him. He nods. And then shakes his head getting up and getting to the bathroom. He sits by the toilet and throws up.

You walk in after him holding his hair back for him. Eddie eventually stops throwing up and sits against the sink. You hand him some pain relief and some water for him to take.

"Anyone posted anything about us last night?" Eddie askes eyes closed.

"OH yeah people have said stuff. Good stuff some bad but mainly good. And people have found my tiktok account and-" You speak but Eddie cuts you off.

"HANG on they found your account the one with all the posts of our karaoke nights. Us being us. N stuff. By a picture." Eddie askss opening one of his eyes.

You nod at Eddie. "If u want me to take the posts down I can." Eddie cuts you off as you speak.

"NO keep em up its us being us n besides there's nothing bad on there." Eddie says smiling at you. "Just means people can see how much I love you."

You nod and help Eddie get back to bed. And you lay there together watching rhe videos on your accounts and seeing what people say.

(Video 1)

Caption: this mane istg

Your running through the hallways of your house screaming while Eddie's chasing you.

"Come hereeeee." Eddie shouts.

"Fuck off Eddie." You shout back laughing.

"Sweethearttttt" he shouts approaching.

"NO NO NO NO NO Eddie!" You scream as he grabs you. You drop your phone but from its place on the floor Eddie can be seen spinning around holding you.

(Video 2)

Caption: lead singer of corroded coffins lead singer singing love is an open door from frozen with his girlfriend? Nah never.

The tvs on karaoke mode and you and Eddie are both holding mics.

"I mean its crazy."

"What?"

"We finish eachothers."

"Sandwichs."

"That's what I was gonna say."

"I've never met someone who think so much like me."

"Jinx. Jinx again."

"Wow Eddie who knew you was such a frozen fan." Gareth laughs behind the camera.

Eddie laughs. "Fuck off Emerson." HE says putting his arm around you. "LOVE IS AN OOEN DOOOOOOR." HE screams before the video cuts off.

(Video 3)

Caption: the right way to wake up a rockstar.

The video starts with you opening your bedroom door snd Eddie being asleep in bed.

"It's 12:33 pm. This bitch can wake up." You giggle.

Your in your bikini as its summer and was hot. Then you jump on Eddie. He groans and opens his eyes. "Afternoon." You say smirking at him. He looks at your phone and pretends to roll his eyes. "OH my god it actually is." HE says when he sees the time.

"Wanna come in the pool?" You ask laying on top of him.

"I'd rather come in something else but I guess I can." HE says smirking. You slap his arm. And get up. "You dirty bitch. I'm going to the pool. Meet you there." You say walking off.

"Babe wait-" he says as the video cuts.

(Video 4.)

Caption: date night?

The video starts om Eddie looking at a menu.

"Wow its so quiet." You giggle. Eddie looks up at you and smirks. "Cause I rented the private bit so we could eat and not get seen." Eddie says looking at the menu.

"Your just that good looking you don't want anyone to see huh?" You ask still recording Eddie.

"NO babe. You so good looking I DINT want anyone to see. That means sharing." HE smirks.

You giggle. "I love you." HE says looking at you Not the camera. "I love you too." It can't been seen hut your smiling and it can be heard in your voice.

There are other videos of you lip syncing songs Eddie in the back some even in bed with Eddie half awake. More karaoke nights some from the side of the stage at there shows. All having thousands of likes and comments.

Your most recent one is the most viral as you actually tag Eddie.

(The video)

Caption: munson wasted.

The video is the corroded coffin boys and you before and after the award show.

"I'm y/n n this is my first drink."

"I'm Eddie munson n this is my first drink."

"I'm Gareth Emerson and this is my first ans possibly last drink."

"I'm Jeff this is my first drink."

"I'm doug n this is my first drink."

At the end of the night.

"I'm y/n and this is me at te end of the night 2 shots and 2 glasses of champagne later."

"I'm Gareth and this is me one glass of champagne later."

"It's doug and this is my 3 coke and vodkas and a glass of champagne later."

"Jeff and I've had 3 champagnes."

Then the camera went to Eddie who had a goofy smile on his face looking at you. Jess was recording. "GO in ed" You say laughing Jeff making sure to get you both in. "Your really fucking pretty. You know that. Pretty gal." HE says completely drunk.

"He's Eddie munson and he is fucking wastedddd." Gareth says everyone starts laughing. "GUYS can you bring ir down I think ym head might fall off." Eddie laughs

"HUH WHAT WAS THAT?" Gareth shouts. Eddie glares at him still smirking.

One week later.

"Babe!" Eddie shouts as you walk in.

"Yeah?" You say slipping your shoes off. He come running over.

"I saw the video of you out when u got asked questions." HE says smiling.

"Did I answer ok?" You ask confused.

"Yeah just one thing." HE says smiling.

"What?" You ask.

The lady had asked you many questions but one answer stood out to him.

"Remind me what am I again?" HE smirks.

"My fucking rockstar babe." You say laughing.

He throws you over his shoulder and walks you to our bedroom throwing you on the bed. "Well lemme tell you something I'm about to rock your world so hard you'll be seeing stars." HE says kissing your neck leaving noticeable marks.

Later that evening you and Eddie go for a late night walk. Some people saw you both and got pictures obviously. When you opened your phone the next day you gasped and called Eddie's name. He came running a summing something was wrong snd you showed him the picture. You was wearing a low cut crop top and Eddie's sweat pants. And he was wearing a black tee shirt and a pair of his sweatpants.

But that means your neck was on display with all the marks Eddie left fully viewable. The photo was captioned: y/n seems to be enjoying Eddie's guitar skills when there alone. Eddie can't help but start laughing. Pulling you in for a hug still laughing.

"I love you so fucking much." HE says still laughing kissing your neck Iver one of the marks. You groan and hug him back puttingyour head in his chest. "I love you too dumbass."

#eddie m #eddie munson thoughts #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie smut #eddie x reader #eddie x you #rockstar eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie stranger things

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wolven91 · 5 months ago

Text

It's the Law

"But it's illegal!" Pointed out the canid, quickly checking over his shoulder, then the other one, ears twitching and nose shuffling. A canid, even an adolescent like Olio. Max just grinned his mischievous grin. They all but adults and about to leave education behind to pick up jobs themselves, it felt like the end of an era.

Like if they didn't start breaking the rules now, they never would later. A childhood inside the ever-present metal hull of the GC station had been both of their 'worlds' for as long as they could walk. It was pretty hard to commit crimes outside of organised crime on these things thanks to the incredible control that the GC had over these artificial worlds.

"And? You always follow the law?" Asked Max, gently rocking himself in the hammock that had been tied up between two pipes. Olio and he were currently in their 'clubhouse'. What had started as a 'den' of sorts when they were actual kids had turned into a pretty damn good place to go hide when they wanted to be assured, they weren't being spied on.

No security strips could see into their space, but that didn't stop the canid from being paranoid. Max couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for Olio. His biology compelled him, instinctually, to follow instructions and seek authority. To be the authority, or at least it's arm.

"Yes!" The canid replied, worry etched on his features. Max merely reached out and gently held Olio's oversized head before bringing him in to rest his head on top of his stomach. The canid had grown rapidly as of late; he was already so big that they had to raise Max's hammock just so the canid could talk to him without being sat on the ground. It was a bit daunting to climb out on his own, but for the most part Olio just lifted Max in and out of the hammock as and when.

"Bah. Time to break the law then." Max declared, shrugging happily, gently scratching his nails into the skull of the canid who's eyes rolled back and upwards, his eyelids dropping down.

Max couldn't help but chuckle at the tiny pink tongue tip that appeared at the very end of Olio's muzzle.

"Hnnn... but you can just give me permission?" Olio pointed out, cracking an eyelid, although the eyeball rolled around a moment before focusing on the lounging human. Max merely shook his head.

"No. You're gonna' break the law so you can say you did. Do it, without my permission." Max retorted, "You really want to go to basic without being able to say you've pulled at the lease at least once? You know you can't lie for shit." Max grinned down at the canid.

He wasn't going away forever, Christ, he was going to be coming home every night except when mandated to stay in the barracks. But the other canids were likely able to say they stole something, or smoked or drank something they weren't allowed to.

How many canids could say that they had gotten close enough to a human to touch them, without the guardian pulling their arm off?

Olio stood up, blinking away the dopamine of scratches and shook himself, the great canid mane ruffling in the enclosed space. Max always loved how it looked like a rockstar's hairdo. Olio would love metal music if Max could ever get his hands on some.

"Alright. I'm not asking permission." Declared Olio, Max raising a single eyebrow in response, but said nothing.

A giant clawed hand rose up and approached Max's head. It hovered for a moment, before the leather pads made contact with Max's head. They stood there, frozen for a moment before Olio found the confidence to curl his fingers slightly and scratch at Max's scalp.

The human had expected it to be clumsy and painful, even by accident, but Olio's care meant that he was purely focused on actually petting Max. Eventually, the canid's hand started to gently stroke Max's hair, going with the grain before the leather pads brushed down the side of his face, touching the beginnings of a scraggly beard, grown only by the pubescent.

Max had his eyes closed before flinching as a leather thumb pad stroked along his eyebrows.

"The hell?"

"I'm stroking your fur."

"Not my eyebrows you dork."

"It's fur, isn't it?"

"No!"

"What do you mean no?!"

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #hfy #haso #humans are space orcs #furry #human x furry

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galexystern · 1 year ago

Text

saving all my love for you

pairing; steve harrington/reader

rating; T

warnings; angst, fluff, mutual pining, not actually unrequited love, love confessions, accidental love confessions, getting together, no use of y/n, steve calls reader "peach"

word count; 5.2k

desc; “Um,” someone who doesn’t sound at all like Beth and a whole lot like Steve says. “Peach?”

You freeze, complete and utter dread filling your body. You slowly lower the phone and look at the caller ID. Staring back at you, in all caps, is the name Steve Harrington.

read on ao3 / masterlist

"Will you please, for the love of god," Beth interrupts your rambling, "either tell him all this or shut the fuck up?"

You close your mouth and look at her with a disgruntled pout.

She sighs. "Sorry, that was mean." You shrug. "I'm just trying to study and you know how important it is I do well on this test." You don't want to, but eventually nod a little. You do know. "I love you," she reassures, "and you know I'm always here to listen, but you do realize this is all starting to sound a bit...pathetic?" She says it not unkindly, with gentle eyes.

Your shoulders droop. It doesn't sound a bit pathetic, it sounds a lot pathetic. You've been complaining to Beth that you've been in love with Steve Harrington for oh...nine years now? Wow, it's been that long? You wince at the thought, and Beth rubs your shoulder soothingly.

It's not your fault you've been in love with Steve Harrington for nine years. He's the one who defended you from bullies in third grade, getting back the peach they'd stolen from your lunch. He's the one who gave it back to you with that sweet smile and hair that had just started growing into the luscious mane it is now. He's the one who became your friend from then on, turning into your closest (male) confidante and staunchest supporter. And he's the one who's been calling you "Peach" since then, making your knees go weak whenever he says it and gives you that smirk.

"I still can't believe you like him, to be honest," Beth says, breaking your reverie. "His King Steve phase was super disturbing."

You roll your eyes. Yes, Steve in his "king of high school" days had been hard to like—the constant rotation of girls he had on his arm, the ragers he threw that always got the cops called on them, the rude and slightly misogynistic behavior that made your skin crawl. But he never directed any of that at you. You were still his Peach, and the Steve you'd known since third grade came back around, complete with apologies and big gestures to make up for his actions. Sure, you'd been a little sad he hadn't wanted you to be on his arm, and you two hadn't been as close during that stage, but it was probably for the better. Being a "hit it and quit it" for the guy you're desperately in love with might've broken your heart for good.

"I can't go over that again with you right now," you reply to Beth. "You've got a test to study for." She gives you an unimpressed look. "And I," you continue, packing up the remains of your lunch, "have a tutoring session to get to."

You stand but Beth grabs your arm, stopping you. "Will you tell him?" She asks, almost pleadingly.

You know she knows the answer to that. You've been trying to tell him for a year now, since you realized high school is ending soon and he'll be gone. You won't see him every day, won't talk to him in classes you have together, certainly won't be tutoring him three times a week. But when you look at those honey-hazel eyes, long lashes brushing against his skin when blinks slowly at you, piercing you with his gaze, you always, without fail, chicken out.

"I'll try," you promise Beth and she half-smiles. It's the best she's gonna get and she knows that too well. She lets go of your arm and you walk towards the building, collecting your thoughts. As you enter and direct yourself to the library, you think maybe today will be the day you confess to Steve. Maybe it's really time. Maybe you can do it.

Opening the library doors, you spot Steve sitting at a table off to the side, daydreaming. He's tapping a pencil against his lips and leaning back in his chair precariously, staring off into space. You try not to smile at how cute he looks, instead staying quiet as you sneak up from the side. You drop your bag moderately loudly on the table and bite your lip to hold back laughter as Steve jolts, making his chair tip back and almost pitching himself backwards, before he catches his balance and sets the chair right again. He gives you a playful glare as you sit down, still trying not to burst out laughing.

"Not nice, Peach," he says petulantly, and you shrug. The nickname has stolen any words you'd had prepared, so you just pull out your calculus textbook and notebook, flipping to a fresh sheet. As Steve does the same, he asks, "And how are you today?"

"Alright," you reply with a small smile. "How are you?"

He makes a face. "I'd be better if I didn't have to worry about math so much." But then he smiles brightly and adds, "But seeing you makes up for it."

Your heart pounds. See, he says things like this that make hope blossom inside you and you think you're finally ready to admit your love for him.

But with the way he's gazing at you, grin on his face, body leaned forward over the table towards you, losing yourself in his eyes, the words die in your throat. He's not for you; you don't deserve him. You're just some girl he'd stood up for one time nine years ago, and he's Steve Harrington, the most eligible bachelor at Hawkins High. He has girls lining up to go out with him and what do you have? A hopeless crush and marching band practice after school.

"Well, with me here, hopefully you won't have to worry about math for much longer," you respond with feigned lightness. He chuckles. "Shall we?"

He nods and you two dive into calculus equations. He's a very diligent pupil, always has been, listening carefully and taking detailed notes. You can tell he really wants to pass this class. He's admitted to you on multiple occasions that he can't wait to get out of Hawkins. When you ask him where he wants to go, he always changes his answer—a little inside joke that makes your stomach thrill. Last time you'd asked he'd said Rome, so he could eat gelato and drink wine every day, and live in an ancient city. He has a soft spot for history.

Out of nowhere, the bell rings, and you and Steve both jump at the sound. You'd been so engrossed in learning math that you hadn't noticed how the time had flown by, an hour passing in what felt like a few minutes.

As you pack up, Steve says, "Hey, Peach." You look up at him. "You busy today?" You open your mouth but he beats you to it. "I know you have band. After that." Closing your mouth, surprised he remembered, you eventually shake your head. "Wanna hang? I've acquired some ah, mood enhancers." At his wink, you snicker.

"Sure," you answer. "I could use a mood change."

Steve smiles. "Great. Our spot? 4pm?" You nod; he nods back. "See you then, Peach."

With that, he gives you a salute and bounds away, out of the library and disappearing into the streaming crowd of students. You follow him, shaking your head.

;

You trample through the underbrush on your way to Skull Rock. Beth had asked if you wanted to hang after practice, to make up for lunch, but you'd blushed and said you were smoking with Steve. She'd given you a coy look and wiggled her eyebrows, making you shove her in embarrassment.

But then she'd gone serious. "It's time, okay?" She'd said. "This is the perfect time for you to confess."

You'd told her earlier that the tutoring session confession had not panned out. Looking at her, understanding the weight she was putting on her words, knowing she only wanted you to be happy, you'd nodded mutely.

"Good. Call me tonight," she'd added. "I wanna hear every detail." You'd promised to call her and given her a hug before parting ways and heading for the forest.

You've always liked walking through the trees to meet Steve, the tiny bursts of light through the foliage spontaneously warming your face. It'd rained last night and so the ground was damp and muddy, but you were wearing your gross pair of sneakers, since the field had been much of the same, so you didn't mind. Your socks were wet but it didn't matter. You were about to see Steve and maybe, hopefully, tell him the truth.

Skull Rock comes into view and a minute later, you could see Steve sitting underneath it. You internally scrunch up in girlish excitement at how he'd brought and spread out a mat for you two to sit on, so you don't get wet from the dirt.

He looks up and spots you, waving. You wave back as you tramp through the last of the growth and reach him. Throwing your bag to the side, you collapse onto the tarp as Steve licks and finishes rolling the joint he'd been working on.

"How was practice, Peach?" He asks.

"Ugh," you reply, and he laughs. "This new show is going to kill me. There are so many movements on the field, I'm not sure if I can remember them all."

"You always do though," he points out. "You get it eventually."

You shrug, hiding your delight that he knows that. He does make a point of watching the halftime shows at the football games and seeing you during third quarter, when the band is allowed to mingle. Of course, he goes to the games no matter what, as a certified sports lover, but still.

"Ready?" He asks, interrupting your thoughts. You nod, and he hands you the joint and lighter. You click it on and hold it up to the end, flaring as you inhale deeply. You hold the smoke in your mouth as you give the joint back to Steve, releasing it into the sky as he copies your actions. He outdoes you by making a ring of smoke out of his exhale, and you roll your eyes.

"Show-off," you mutter.

Steve smirks. "I can teach you, you know. You just always turn me down."

You look at him. You do turn him down each time. You're not even really sure why. You tutor him, why can't he? "Okay," you finally reply. "Teach me."

His eyes light up and he scoots towards you. He starts talking, about technique and mouth shape and how your tongue should be involved, but you're only half-listening. You're too captivated by how animated he is, how excited he seems to be by instructing you in something for a change. There are traces of pride in his voice, and you think he might be pleased at the idea of being so good at something that he can give that to others. He's mentioned that fear before, that he doesn't have anything to offer people, even though you always reassure him he has so much.

"Peach? Wanna try?" Steve asks. You clear your head and take the proffered joint. You inhale and try to do what he's told you, accomplishing a rudimentary half-smoke ring. He claps. "That's it! Now you just need practice."

So you practice. You two wear the joint away attempting more rings, Steve giving you pointers as you go. When the joint is just a nub, you take one last inhale and close your eyes, working hard to take all of his advice and try one last time. Steve makes an excited sound and you open your eyes, seeing a pretty good smoke ring floating away from you.

"You did it!" He exclaims excitedly, as you laugh in delight. "The student has become the master."

"I'm not sure if I'd go that far," you reply, but you're still smiling widely. Steve's face matches.

"Well, I have nothing left to teach you. You've got it now."

"You'll always have stuff to teach me, Steve," you say softly, remembering that fear that plagues him. He looks at you with a grateful expression. "Besides," you continue, "I still don't know how to drive."

"I can't believe you don't know how to drive!" He replies indignantly and you giggle. This is an argument you two have had ever since his parents had given him his BMW and he'd asked if you wanted to drive it. After revealing you didn't have a license, Steve had been properly shocked and bewildered. He's never understood why you don't want to drive.

It's not about not wanting to drive (though driving is scary). It's more about wanting Steve to keep driving you.

"You know how I feel about driving," you say back and he rolls his eyes.

"Driving is not that scary. I promise, Peach." An idea comes to him. "It's just like marching band!" At your raised eyebrow he adds, "Hear me out. You have to remember all the moves the car can do. You have to maneuver so you don't hit anybody else on the road. And it gives you a feeling of control."

You laugh. "You know I don't make up the movements, right?"

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. You know what I mean."

You nod. Trying to stay light, you say, "Maybe you can teach me."

"Yes!" He shouts loudly, startling you. "Sorry. But yes. I can totally teach you how to drive."

"Okay." You're smiling at each other.

"Great," he replies firmly. "It's a date."

The words make you freeze. The small voice in your head that sounds weirdly like Beth is telling you this is the moment. This is your opening. Take it.

"Um, Steve," you start. He hums, still staring at you with kind curiosity. "I, um, I wanted to..." You trail off.

He nods encouragingly. "You wanted to...what?"

But as he gazes at you, the words won't come. You try to force them out, not caring how they come out, just that they do, but there's nothing. Your mouth gapes like a fish. Your throat is dry. And you just...can't.

"I wanted to," you manage with a croak, "thank you. For teaching me how to make a smoke ring."

He sits back and you think you see a flash of disappointment on his face before it's gone. "No problem, Peach. What are friends for?"

You nod miserably. Coward.

;

Steve takes you home. It's quiet in the car, both of you deep in thought. You don't know what Steve is thinking about, but you're admonishing yourself for backing out, again. God, you're such a loser. What will Beth say?

He pulls into your driveway and idles. You get out, thanking him again for the hangout, and he nods amiably. You close the door softly and walk up to your porch, turning around to watch him back out and drive away. You sigh as you unlock the door and go inside.

You put off calling Beth for a while. You know you have to, she's expecting you to, but you want to live in this moment where only you know how much of a chicken you are just a little longer. So you have a snack, and something to drink, and finish your homework. Your parents come home and you help make dinner to distract yourself from the day's humiliating non-events. You push your food around the plate as your parents chatter about work, thankfully not asking you too many questions. The three of you sit and watch TV for a bit, but you don't really see any of it, mind still stuck on Steve.

When your parents give you kisses goodnight and head upstairs for bed, you know it's time to stop procrastinating. You take a deep breath, pick up the phone, and dial.

As soon as the line is picked up, you start talking. "Hey, so I know you said today was the day but I chickened out, again. I know I'm a coward. You were right, it was the perfect time. I mean, Steve asks me to smoke in our spot, just the two of us? What better time to confess my love for him, right? There is no better time, that's the truth. But I just couldn't do it. I couldn't make myself speak the words. It's so pathetic, right? Ugh, I can't believe I let that perfect moment pass me by. I'm such a sissy. You don't have to tell me, I already know. I just wanted you to know, since you told me to call. But I can't really handle any scolding, yeah? I know what I did. I know."

There's a lull until...

“Um,” someone who doesn’t sound at all like Beth and a whole lot like Steve says. “Peach?”

You freeze, complete and utter dread filling your body. You slowly lower the phone and look at the caller ID. Staring back at you, in all caps, is the name Steve Harrington.

“Peach?” He says again, distantly. It breaks your trance and you immediately hang up the phone. It starts to ring almost instantly, and you stare at it, brain somehow going a mile a minute and not at all. The rings stop but then start up again. Unable to pick up the phone, you find your hand moving to the telephone jack. As the phone stops and then goes again for the third time, you pull it out of the wall. The noises stop. Silence fills the kitchen. And you finally understand what just happened.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, over and over, still holding the telephone cord, still gazing at the receiver. Your knees start to wobble and so you stumble backwards, grappling for a chair, eventually grazing the back of one and whipping it around so it can catch you before you fall. “What have I done?” You moan, burying your face in your hands and pressing down hard. Maybe when you open your eyes you’ll be in bed and this will just be some bad dream and you won’t have ruined everything. But when you move your hands away, you’re still sitting in the kitchen, phone disconnected, terror gripping you tightly.

Not a dream. You did ruin everything.

Digging for strength, you use it all to rush out of the room and upstairs to your bedroom, where you slam the door closed and pitch yourself onto your bed. What have I done? You ask yourself again. You stare unseeing at your headboard, clutching your pillow, as you helplessly think about what might happen next.

Well, for one, you can bet that Steve’s not your friend anymore. That’s a given. But will he avoid you forever, ignore you in the halls at school, not let your name pass his lips anymore? Or will he make fun of you for your confession, saying that he’d never be with anyone like you in a million years, that he was just friends with you out of pity? Will he tell everyone, spread it around that a loser like you thinks she has a shot with King Steve, let the rumor mill rip you to shreds?

Will you make it out of this? You’re not sure if you can handle any of these outcomes. It’s why you’d chickened out in the first place, why you’ve always chickened out. Maybe you’ll have to change schools or even districts. Oh god, what if you have to move states to get away from the torture of it all?

You’re spiraling further down when there’s a small plinking sound. You stop and listen, and it comes again. A third time and you follow the noise to the window. You watch in wonder as something hits it—a pebble. You hesitantly walk over and peer outside.

Steve is standing below on your front lawn, hand reared back like he’s ready to throw. But when he spots you, he drops the rock and waves. You raise a hand back without thinking, and he motions for you to open your window. As you do, you distantly think that he would be a good charades partner. You slowly poke your head outside.

“Peach!” Steve yells quietly.

“What are you doing?” You ask, stupefied.

“You wouldn’t answer my calls,” he replies.

Dumbly, you say back, “I unplugged the phone.”

“Oh.” He seems thrown by that. “Do you…want me to go then?” It takes a second, but eventually you shake your head. He smiles in relief. “Can we talk?”

“My parents are home,” you answer and Steve’s shoulders fall. “But can you climb a tree?”

“Yeah?” The word is laced with confusion.

You motion to the side of the house and move away from your first window, hoping he’s following. You open the second window, on a different wall, and see Steve below. You point to the tree whose branches extend over the house, one of which comes pretty close to your window. He nods and starts climbing, and you try not to stare at his ass. It takes him almost no time at all to get to the branch and inch down it. When he makes it to the ledge, you hold out a hand haul him inside. It’s not very graceful—he ends up on the floor, but pops up seemingly unharmed.

“Hi,” he says, breathless.

Realizing Steve Harrington is in your room after you’d accidentally confessed your love for him, you can’t move or speak. You just look at him, heart pounding, palms sweaty, eyes wide.

“Peach, about what you said on the phone—“

You interrupt. “Wait.” He dutifully stops talking and looks at you expectantly. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the rest of the plan thought out, so you’re speechless. You’d just wanted to put off the inevitable rejection for just a little longer. “I, um, I’m really sorry. For that. Like…obviously it wasn’t meant for you to hear.” You laugh awkwardly. “Well, it was but not then. But it also wasn’t because I chickened out. And that was meant for Beth. Who I meant to call. And obviously…didn’t.”

There’s silence until Steve asks, “Did you mean it?”

There it is: a way out. An exit ramp, where you laugh and say you didn’t mean it, where you play it off as a joke and go back to being friends. But you can’t make yourself take it. You’ve never lied to Steve, and you don’t want to start now. Not with this.

So you nod and answer, in a small voice, “Yes.”

You close your eyes so you won’t see the look of pity on his face, will only have to listen as he lets you down gently. But then there are hands cupping your cheeks and breaths brushing across your skin and lips pressing against yours. You open your eyes again with a start to find Steve’s in front of you, closed. His hands are on your face. His mouth is on yours.

Steve is kissing you.

You don’t know what to do, how to react, and Steve pulls back. His expression is apologetic and ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I should’ve asked—“

You cut him off by surging forward and kissing him. He’s surprised but regains his presence of mind faster than you had, and his hands go to grab your waist tightly. Yours tangle in his hair, the beautiful hair that you’ve always wanted to run your fingers through, and you marvel at the way Steve’s lips fit against yours, like they were made to. You two kiss until you can’t anymore, both pulling back to breathe in deeply.

Steve is smiling. You know your mouth is hanging open in shock. Thank god it’s already there, because what Steve says next would’ve made it drop.

He says, “I love you too.”

You make a weird sort of noise in your throat and Steve laughs a little. You flush bright red and make your jaw close. “That’s not exactly how I wanted to respond,” you say in embarrassment.

“What did you want to say?”

“Um.” Steve’s eyes are sparkling. It’s distracting. “Uh…why?”

“Because you’re my favorite person in the whole world, Peach.” He says it like it’s obvious. “Because you’re the first person I wanna talk to when I wake up and the last person I think of when I go to sleep. Because you teach me so many things and make sure I know I have things to teach you too. Because you’ve always been there for me. Because you’re my dream girl.” He’s looking at you with so much adoration it’s hard not to combust right then and there. “Why do you love me?”

“I’ve loved you since the third grade,” you blurt out. “When you stood up for me. When you first started calling me Peach.”

“Even during King Steve?” He asks tentatively. He doesn’t look away but you can tell he wants to. He doesn’t like to relive it.

You take his hand. “Yes, even then. I knew who you were underneath it all. I knew you would come back. And I was right.”

He chuckles. “You always are,” he murmurs, as if in awe.

“I wasn’t right about this,” you sigh, looking down at your intertwined fingers. “I never in a million years imagined you would love me too.”

Steve makes a soft sound. “I feel like I was so obvious about it. I felt like a lovesick fool who couldn’t stop following you around.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I never wanted to scare you away. You’re too important to me. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t in my life, Peach. I couldn’t take that chance. I would take you in whatever way you would give me, happily.”

You look back up at him. His face is intense, serious. You kiss him so his expression will clear. “Well,” you say lightly, “now you’ve got me like this forever.”

“Good,” he replies firmly, and tugs you forward into a hug. You wrap your arms around his back and clutch at his shirt. He rests his chin on your head and sighs happily. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

When you whisper back “Me too,” he holds you closer.

;

"Okay, baby. R means reverse, N is neutral, and D is obviously drive. You have to pull the gearshift to the right letter to do what you want. So let's try going backwards, yeah?" Steve asks.

You are in the driver's seat of Steve's BMW, with him in the passenger seat. It's your first driving lesson. You're sitting in the parking lot of the high school, after school so it's devoid of cars and you can't hit any of them. Steve had said that he didn't think you would, but better to be safe than sorry. You agree—you can't afford to replace this BMW if you wreck it.

You nod to Steve's question.

"Great. Foot on the brake," he reminds, and you put your foot on the brake. "Has to be there for the gearshift to work. Okay, pull it to R, angel." You slowly put the car into reverse. "Now, ease up on the brake. Just a little." You do so, and the car starts rolling backwards. Your eyes widen and Steve places his hand on top of yours. "It's okay. Just keep looking in your mirrors. You've got it." You look into the rearview mirror and watch as what's behind you slowly comes closer.

"Good!" Steve encourages. "Let's brake again." You press too hard and you're both jolted forward as the car comes to a screeching halt.

"Sorry," you say quickly, wincing.

But Steve is laughing. "No harm done, sugar. Just maybe brake a little gentler next time."

You nod sheepishly.

"Now, you're not gonna need N like, ever. I'm not even sure what use it has. So let's move on to D."

"That's what she said," you automatically retort, and Steve snorts. You're scared, but not too scared to pass up a chance for a euphemism.

"I walked into that one," he replies, shaking his head fondly. "But, let's drive, shall we, sweetheart?"

"Okay," you say, trying not to let the pet name distract you. He's been expanding his repertoire of them, trying to see which ones fit best. But you like all of them—like whatever he calls you as long as he still says it in that loving tone and kisses you after occasionally—so he's just been adding more and more without taking any away. It annoys Beth a little bit—she's glad you both finally got your heads out of your asses and got together, literally jumping for joy when you'd told her about Steve confessing his love for you too, but she regularly complains about being the third wheel and says Steve is too mushy for his own good—but you love it.

You pull the gearshift to D and ease off the brake like Steve had told you. The car rolls forward slowly.

"Okay, foot off the brake completely. Press on the gas. Gently, honey," he emphasizes and you nod. You do as he says and press the gas pedal softly, and the car speeds up a little. You reach a stop sign and so you dutifully brake. "Nicely done, princess," he says, and leans over to kiss your cheek. Before he can lean back, you turn your head and catch his lips with yours. He presses forward into it, hand coming up to cup your jaw softly.

"Alright, beautiful, turn signals," he says when you've parted. "Lever on the left, press up for right and down for left." You experiment, smiling as the signals flash. "Where do you wanna go?"

You look at him. What you wanna say is "Anywhere with you," but you know that's a little too cheesy for the moment. “Where do you wanna go?” You ask instead.

He hums, thinking about it. “What about…Sydney? The opera house and the beaches and the beautiful sunsets on the desert.” Then he looks at you. “You interested in Australia, darling?”

You always get a thrill when you ask him that now, because he always includes you. Like he’s not going anywhere without you either.

“Sure, as long as you protect me from all those huge bugs,” you answer. “And the kangaroos. I’ve heard they’re mean.”

Steve chuckles. “Haven’t I always been your knight in shining armor, Peach? Been serving you since third grade. I can handle some bugs.”

“I don’t know. You get scared when there’s a spider in your house.”

“I don’t like them!” He protests and you laugh. He looks at you with that adoring expression. “But for you? I’ll do anything.”

You try not to show outwardly how gooey you feel inside. You just lean forward and kiss him again, turning back to the parking lot and stop sign.

You choose a direction at random. "Right," you answer and turn on the signal.

"Good, Peach. Steering wheel to the right too, ease onto the gas, and off we go," Steve directs.

You move the wheel to the right, take your foot off the brake and onto the gas, and off you go.

#steve harrington x reader #mine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic

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roo-brr · 4 months ago

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Alright...the oc 😈 YOU'LL HAVE TO BARE WITH ME CUZ I YAPPED THE PROCESS I WENT THRU 😭 the pic where its sitting while scratching is the most accurate drawing :]

HERE, MY OC:

He's but a very nice & silly guy. I made him for a lil side story kinda like a "what if" for "Fear of You" (by @sleepwalkersqueen on Ao3!!!) for her character Shinyo!

I just wanted Shinyo to have a friend yk 😭 seems like he could use one. And so... I got thinking... I was like HMMM what quirk could the guy have? And I'm basic so I googled animals, and I like wolves, but I thought nahhh wolves are probs used too much ykyk so I looked for animals that were similar but different. And I came across maned wolves!!!!! And I thought they were so cool!!!!! (I would later find out that they are particularly enjoyed by the furry fandom lmao, hell yea)

AND SO. With little faith in my drawing skills... I made him on Pony Town. I've posted him with my other ponies before actually!

Here he is:

The right one was one of the first versions, I fixed his hair to be a more similar shade to maned wolves. And fix his ears and other stuff. He no longer has the lighter eye either I need to update that. BUT ANYWAY!!!

Eventually I DID draw him, and then tried a fuller body version to fit his tail in...

I forgot to give him life to the eyes. Anyways, my 1st 2 drawings of the lad. AND THEN I STARTED LOOKING AT POSE REFS ON PINTEREST. AND I FOUND ONE I LIKED AND DREW HIM IN IT !!!!!!

I didn't know what to do for the background alright don't say anything.

Made him as a lil chibi too! HE'S SCRATCHING AND I FELT RATHER PROUD OF IT. SO FINALLY. AFTER YAPPIN AND YAPPIN ON. MEET... Daichi :]

I typed stuff about him for artfight but it's helpful again now so .... theres a good bit of his info!!!!!

Again like I said, he was made to be Shinyo's friend. In a world where Shinyo was able to get Keigo away with a proper home and into a school.

I'd happily answer questions about him. He's still like errr under development I suppose? So idk everything, but I know bits and bobs like his job and stuff.

AAAAAHHH I HOPE YOU LIKE HIM I WASNT GONNA EXPOSE HIM TO ANYONE OTHER THAN MY FRIENDS AND THE FOY DISCORD SERVER 😭😭

Choosing his name was a whole thing too I won't start on that

#daichi oc #I GOOGLED DAICHI AFTER CHOOSING IT AND HES A HAIYKUU CHARACTERRRR AHH HELP #HES NOT MEANT TO BE DAICHI FROM HAIKYU(?)#maned wolf #maned wolf oc #fear of you #foy #shinyotakami #Shinyos no.1 bestie #self proclaimed

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9haharharley1 · 29 days ago

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QUESTION TIME ♡

How do you think Pitch and Jack are with grooming themselves/caring for their appearance? (canon or modern/human AU, your pick!)

Bonus: how would each of them deal with having long hair?

I think Pitch cares very much for what he looks like, au or canon! In a human AU, he makes sure his clothes are ironed and shirts hung up accordingly, pants pressed properly and put away (definitely still military background). He likes to be clean-shaven, makes sure his hair is slicked back professionally, and is quick to get it cut and trimmed when it starts to grow past a certain point. He wears a subtle cologne and generally holds himself to a high standard. Jack delights in messing his hair up whenever he can and kissing him hard enough that there's a slight swell to his lips when they part, and Pitch has to go back to what he was doing.

As for Jack, as long as his clothes are clean and he can't smell himself, he'll generally count that as a win, especially if he's in a rush. He'll make sure to shower the first chance he gets, but he's not gonna risk being late or upsetting someone if he can help it; just put on some deodorant, and he's good until he can grab that shower. His hair is usually a mess because he doesn't take the time to brush it either, usually juat settling for combing it with his fingers on his way to his destination, even tho he does own a brush. His clothes will be all wrinkled from sitting in the laundry basket cuz he has better things to do than fold them, but he does get better at all this when he starts living with Pitch. He does want to impress him after all, and eventually starts growing into better habits because of this.

Bonus:

Pitch would hate having long hair, I think. I think it'd drive him crazy to feel all the little hairs starting to grow in and tickle places they weren't there before. He'd chop it off first chance he got if he even notices it get past a certain point.

Jack, though, wouldn't pay too much attention to his hair. He's too busy doing his own thing and probably wouldn't give it a second thought until someone points it out how long it's getting, and that's when he'd take notice. He'd find a mirror, give a quiet "huh," and then proceed to find a brush, because dear god his head is a nest! He should probably get it cut soon, and then move on. So he starts brushing it and pulling it back in a short ponytail, never really paying attention to how long it's getting until his shower time is going up and he's spending more on shampoo, and man, he should really put some conditioner on this, huh? Then he'll tell himself he'll get it cut, throw it up in a messy bun, and forget to make an appointment the next day. By the time he notices again, brushing it all has become a chore, but by then Pitch has already offered to help, and he takes the brush easily and combs Jack's hair. He's used to this from brushing Emily's wild mane over the years, and it brings back fond memories, but also new ones cuz Jack's hair is so soft when it's long like this, and Jack's head is rolling on his shoulders, and oh no he's moaning now, this is so relaxing and it feels so good. So Pitch of course can't fucking help himself and wraps all that long soft hair aroun d his hand and give it a good, firm tug, and Jack moans so loud it's embarrassing for both of them and oh no I'm gonna write this fic aren't i

Dammit Gilly!

#i love you gilly you give me the best ideas #thank you for the ask!!#harley answers #asks #blackice #my writing

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emhasthoughts · 1 year ago

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Trick or Treat

Summary: Eric and Fiona were dead set on dressing up the cats.

A/N: "I'm not gonna write another bonus, I'm not gonna write another bonus, I'm not gonna - Fuck it" I had to write this bc I got the idea in my brain during a stream and it wouldn't let go until I wrote it

Thanks @dcartcorner , the two chatters in stream and my friend who helped me decide on some of the costumes.

Inspiration for Daisy's costume

Not beta read, just me, lil document and thoughts about cats

Pt 1, Simon, Peter, Elias and Mike / Pt 2, Michael and Helen Distortion, Agnes / Pt 3, Annabelle, Jude, Oliver / Pt 4, Maxwell, Manuela, John, Jane / Bonus, a visit to the vet

Gertrude blamed Eric Delano for the situation she was in. Well, Eric and Fiona Law. She could hear the two talk on the 30th that Gertrude felt was not work related. Her suspicion was confirmed as Eric knocked on the door to her office, leaning against the doorframe as he waited for her to look up.

“Yes Eric?”

“So… Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because it’s Halloween. Going out for drinks with, oh, what was his name? Jurgen Lighter?”

“Leitner.” Gertrude sighed. “And no. I’m going to be home. Halloween is just a time of year to give children excuses to eat a lot of candy.”

“Riiight-” Eric drummed his fingers against the door frame. “You got cats though, right?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to dress them up?”

“Now why would I do that?”

Because Eric and Fiona were dead set on dressing up the cats. So after work they forced Gertrude to the local pet shop in order to find enough costumes for the cats. It was quite hard figuring everything out. Spending hours there looking at photos of the cats to find the right match.

“We’ll go home to yours directly after work then?” Fiona clarified with Gertrude before they went their separate ways. Gertrude only answered with a nod and mumble about how tomorrow would not be a great day.

31st started just fine. The day went on as usual, though her assistants were more talkative than normal. Eventually it was time to leave and the four stood ready as Gertrude exited her office. She sighed. Clearly no one had forgotten.

Some of the cats were very easy to get into their costumes. Oliver, Maxwell and Manuela got dressed as bats with wings, matching their already black fur. Oliver let it happen while the other two put on a bit more of a fight. Eric had a bit worse of a luck than Emma as he decided on the twins, both wearing a very colourful snake costume that Michael had first fought to not have to wear, Gerry however had been more peaceful, glaring at Eric as he got a onesie full of different types of eyes on it.

Poor Sarah had decided to take on Mike, which had gone as well as one might expect from him as Sarah tried to get him into a cloud costume. She had then taken three of the more peaceful cats. Simon, dressed as a bee and Peter who had accepted his fate to be dressed as a jester. She had even managed to catch Elias to put him in an owl costume.

Gertrude decided to make it as easy as possible by taking the cats that seemed the most interested in the costumes. Tim dressed in a cape similar to how a vampire costume would be, Martin who got a cow costume, Sasha who got a small knitted sweater and quickly made glasses to fit a cat, Jon who joined - or was bullied by Tim - was put in a moth costume. Agnes came up to her for her costume, looking like a fire with a crown on top of her head.

Fiona got Daisy into a dog costume, Melanie got on a lion's mane and Basira who got put in a box painted like a police car, though not without some chasing, scratching and something that fell from a table. Emma stuck to the theme of the matching outfits as she managed to get Jane into a worm costume, John into a fly costume and Annabelle into a spider costume. Eric changed out Georgie’s collar to one that said ‘The Admiral’. Jared got a onesie similar to Gerry’s though this one had a pattern of bones. Fiona had to take Jude and Nikola. Jude dressed up as a flame while Nikola looked like a toy soldier.

After a bunch of photos and attempts at getting Gertrude out with them, Emma, Fiona, Sarah and Eric decided to leave. Planning to go to some bar they liked. Leaving Gertrude alone with cats in stupid costumes and having to answer the door as people dressed up came by. Which was a bit of a pain as cats wanted to get out or the people showing up saw the dressed up cats. Gertrude was not very happy to get the cats OUT of the costumes again.

#gertrude robinson #eric delano #fiona law #Emma Harvey #Sarah Carpenter #the magnus archives #cat avatars #I'm not gonna tag all of the cats #I refuse to tag all the cats

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marxthedumdum · 8 months ago

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Imagine this: WERECAT STEVEN.

- He is based on the Maine Coon or Norwegian Forest cat breed. Or a Lykoi. Though probably Maine Coon. :) Or a lion. (Shrugs)

- His normal form is the same, his werecat form has the upper body (and tail) of an anthropomorphic Maine Coon cat! Only slightly taller. And scarier, because of the red eyes.

- ZOOMIES!! ZOOMIES EVERYWHERE!!!

- When he is grumpy, excited, or sad, his ears perk up.

- His hair connects and becomes fur. It's hard to tell where the mane ends and the cat body begins. Unless if you're Daisy, who grooms her husband on the regular (because she's a cat groomer. That's an actual job lol)

- Probably adopts a kid or adult (or both) from the street and turns them into a werecat or a catgirl. (Or cat beastman or cat demi-human lol)

- Meows whenever he wants attention. He baps and smites you if you mock his meows.

- I can imagine he roars. His roar is basically really loud and is a lion-like one, meaning a poor victim who hears it is gonna be too scared shitless to move, and it makes his job of smiting and/or turning his victim into a werecat/catgirl/cat demi-human/cat beastman MUCH easier!!

- Definitely turned Aria (Aerith), my OC (and possible secondary sona) into a werecat at some point.

- Daisy is probably a cat demi-human or cat beastman lol

- Swap!Daisy is probably a werecat who is based on the Lykoi. Swap!Steven is a cat demi-human/cat beastman who is an excellent knitter and gives her lots of sweaters and hugs and scarves and mittens and such just to keep wifey warm 💕💕💕

- MissingNo probably turned Steven into a werecat as part of the Ritual that brought Miki back....and now he seems to be some Alpha Werecat who can turn others into werecats or catgirls/catboys or cat demi-humans. (Or cat beastmen lol)

- Milkman Steven is SCARY AS FUCK as is, but imagine him, all covered in blood from murdering people, entering the house in werecat form, and stares down at Doorman Daisy!

"Babe. The baby wants milk."

Daisy looks behind her, and a sigh escapes from her lips.

"Steven, we don't have a child...unless you're talking about that werecat kitten you adopted the other day."

"No. I am talking about myself and my desire for milk-what do you think?!"

"...well, you're coming with me, regardless. We need to get her some tuna."

- Having a werecat husband is tough. Same with a werecat child he adopted (and probably turned into a werecat prior to adoption 😨). Imagine opening a can. And you see a cute tabby and a big black ball of fur. Both staring at you!

Also, he smited me and now I dunno if I'm a catgirl or a werecat or a cat demi-human lol here's a bonus picture

(lol, I don't know if I should make Aria their adopted child or their bio child or some kid/adult that Steven found and took in by force or by luring in with choccy milk lol)

i like to think that. missingno has a mind of its own and tries to mutate steven beyond recognition to drive him into Maximum Madness and fully possess him but eventually gave up when he and his wife keep being stubborn jackasses and then got kids (if we go by your oc/fan-child hc) :))) speaking of milkman steven, DOORWOMAN DAISY‼‼‼ steven casually snitching on other doppelgangers just to make daisys job easier,,, (whenever its stevens turn to req entry he starts becoming the Furball he is and scratches the window with pleading eyes until he gets in) sometimes steven will also get in the office w his wife and cuddles with her and the amount of weird faces the neighbors give them XD (daisy: me and the bitch i pulled by being autistic) to help steven with the money to make milk, some days daisy would work as the one killing the doppelgangers instead of detecting 'em since it pays her more than being a doorwoman...... and steven just. tags along. :3

#pokepasta #strangled red #strangled red steven #crimsonoak #crimsonoak shipping #headcanon

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ihopesocomic · 2 years ago

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Sorry if this has already been answered but how would the original MP AU idea have played out before the comic became IHS? I've seen a few other "re-writes" of MP here and there and I'm real curious as to where you would have gone with it.

This has been answered to some extent elsewhere but I don't recall where so here goes:

For starters, we didn't get very far with the AU idea before we changed it to IHS. The only real thing I recalled us tackling was merging Farleap and Feather into one character, who starts out as an annoying sibling but eventually grows and matures and appreciates Nothing. This character was called Featherjump/Featherleap.

They were Adamant's early concept.

Some of the things we would've done different with My Pride include:

Sharptongue would've been a villain rather than Powerstrike. This would've explained why she accepted Quickmane whereas Moonstrike rejects Fire: she's a staunch traditionalist to Pride Law and values obeying the rules over her grandchildren. She's also bitter that Starmane killed her mate (so she's not sorry to see him go) and viewed Powerstrike and Waterhunter siding with him as a betrayal, making her relationship with them rather strained.

To go off the above, Sharptongue would still be Hunt Chief and would fulfil Powerstrike's role. She would offer Hobblestep to Nothing as a huntress name after her assessment and Nothing would respond with 'I'd rather be named nothing than that!' and that's how the name sticks. It still sucks but it at least gives a bit of agency and provides a moment where Nothing stands up for herself.

Nothing and Featherjump/Featherleap still leave the pride and would stumble across the pride of Moonstrike and Barkmane, who do not abide by Pride Law. The two become surrogate parents to Nothing and treat her well.

Fire (who still pretty much has the same role) still kills Barkmane and this is the first time Nothing has seen him in a while, standing over the body of her surrogate dad. This is how we would handle the cliffhanger of Episode 9: who is Nothing gonna side with?

Naturally, she sides with her new pride because Pride Law sucks and it's cost her not one dad, but now two. She and Fire have their showdown and Nothing - due to being well fed and living in a healthy pride as opposed to the nomadic Fire - wins the battle but lets her brother live and run off.

Nothing then earns a new name: Nothingmane. Because she's a Mane without a literal mane. Sounds silly, but at least it's a new name with a meaning that isn't so bad.

The events of Episode 8 are then played out as the climax as opposed to smack bang in the middle of the season. Which gives the show's season finale a bit of a payoff.

So, yeah: not a complete and utter rewrite by any means but just some things we would've done differently. idk how we would've handled Hover. I like the idea of her being somebody that we'd encounter much later down the road as opposed to right away, as Nothing's arc should firmly remain as Nothing's arc for the first season. I also like the idea of our gay romance being born from the reincarnations of Kyoga and Karabi joining (since everyone and their mother suspects Hover is Karabi) and bringing justice to the world. Lite's reincarnation would be Fire, since nobody else fits the bill and I like to think we would've given him a more developed villain arc. The foundations for it were there (he just wants to survive), so we would've just established things a bit more. Maybe made him more of a consistent jerk here and there lol - RJ

#ask #ask us stuff

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montcumbry-gaytor · 1 year ago

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Nepenthe. chapter 02

act one : tacenda

THIS IS AN OC INTEGRATION FOR THE WITCHER, IT IS NOT A X READER FIC.

— bluhh chapter two!?! I'm just gonna preface that the original script of the Witcher will be extremely audited to fit the added chatacter? and it might come with a side of plot holes and out of character actions.

tw for : canon typical violence, mentions of alcohol, burning buildings.

(n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence.

We are deep in the woods, my back is to a tree as I run my dagger against a small grindstone, the fire in front of me provides a much needed warmth in the damp and cold environment.

Over the fire are fish speared on sticks, Geralt makes quick work of cooking them, I can see he takes the one that has been slightly overcooked and hands me the other.

"What exactly are you looking for in Posada?"

I ask, when I set my grindstone and dagger away for the fish, my fingers graze Geralts for just a second, though neither of us seem to mind.

"Work, Silence, Money."

"Same old routine until the winter?"

I ask, picking apart the fish and pulling at what I choose to eat.

"You could say that."

Geralt replies, and eats away at his own poor excuse of food, I can see the bags in his eyes, he's becoming restless.

"I'll take first watch, You need sleep."

I say, raising from my spot by the fire to look over our small camp, if you could call it that, Geralt crosses his arms over his chest and shut his eyes, he's never been one to easily fall asleep.

Though he eventually does, and I stay vigilant through the night, I'm tucked up on a thick three limb, The forest is quiet, and I continue to sharpen my blades, and make work of the silver arrows I keep on my horse as well.

Geralt sleeps roughly halfway through the night, his eyes shoot open as he scans his surroundings, landing on me as I halt grinding away at my weapons.

"Did I wake you?"

I ask, letting my legs hang off the branch, they dangle slightly and I kick them to keep my blood flowing.

Geralt shakes his head and lets out a gruff 'no' and stands in front of the still going fire, though it's now at small embers and lingering heat.

I hop off the small perch, planting my feet into the soil, I watch him as he rounds the fire, and eases a gentle hug around my shoulders, I stiffen, unsure what to do at first, before my arms snake around him.

He doesn't do anything, but he stays in the embrace, his breathing is hot to my ear.

"Love it when you just hold me here."

I say, letting out a fond chuckle as I rest my chin on Geralt's shoulder, I can hear him let out a deep breath from his nose, it's a mix of a sigh and a soft chuckle.

"I'm sorry."

He says, I can feel him thickly swallow, he's worried about what I'll say, so I say nothing, but give him a small pat on the back and pull away, my eyes flicker to his, before I back myself to slide down a tree, landing on my rear.

"Goodnight Geralt."

I say, positioning myself in a similar position Geralt was in to sleep, and let myself doze off, the burning fire only warms up my body and old memories.

It's Tir Tochair, I can see it as it's structure is up in flames, though I cannot do anything more to save it as my horse keeps galloping through snow, but I can smell it's remains in the air, It's the reason I could not have a normal life, but would I have lived past it nonetheless?

I have not returned since, I seem to always abandon my home.

When I wake up, the sun is barely over the horizon, it's light bouncing off the dewey trees, the fire is out and I find Geralt sitting across from me from the other side of the fire pit.

"Should we get going?"

I ask, I rub over my eyes, my left hand is more gentle as it passes over that scar, my skin raised from the claws of an old friend.

Geralt stands, nodding with a gruff 'Yeah' and begins to collect the things left around the campfire, I do the same and bring my quiver back to my horse, belting it back to its upper thigh.

I take a moment to pet through its deep mane, he whinnies and his body shivers lightly, warming himself up as he prepares for yet another long ride.

"How long do you think it'll take us to Posada?"

I ask, untying my horse from the tree as Geralts horse —which he named 'roach' much to my confusion— Sidesteps around the tree, deep brown eyes focused on me, so I pet her gently on the snout.

"Shouldn't take us more than a day, unless we find work in between trips."

Geralt replies, sitting a medium leather bag on Roach's back, She doesn't seem to mind.

"That's good, Any stops in particular?"

I ask, I try to make small talk, though I'm not sure why.

"If we need to, we'll stop by Kalkar."

I let out a hum and keep quiet after, mounting my steed, as Geralt has done the same we ride out of the woody outskirts of the mountains, the sun holds on our backs, and by the time we're in central Aedirn it's over our shoulders, and Dol Blathanna isn't far.

The land is flourishing In Posada, even on its lower levels the grass is thick, when we enter we find a stable, leaving our horses in the hands of a man with coin, and enter the Middle levels of Posada, a large tavern awaiting us.

When we enter, a bards music hits my ears, it's not bad, but the writing is.. a tad unrealistic to my standards, but nonetheless I follow Geralt into a small booth and take a seat.

A young woman occasionally stops by our table, once to let us make our requests, and another to drop the drinks off, Geralt seems distant, as stares into his drink, though I'm quick to down mine, the alcohol feels like water in my stomach.

The tavern boos as the bard sings an odd lyric, and throws an assortment of food at him, which he pockets, and i can't help but chuckle, as i take a deep swig of my drink, an unfamiliar voice speaks.

"Love the way you both just sit in a corner and brood."

— sOOOO... how was that?!? a good intro to the second episode? I thought so >:) as always this shit is NOT proofread and there MAY be plotholes, but hey, I'm trying </3

#the witcher oc #the witcher netflix #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #dandelion #geralt witcher #jaskier witcher #oc fic

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queenimmadolla · 2 years ago

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𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 Summary: After four long years of pining, it's high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there's no better time for love confessions than Valentine's Day. If only you hadn't chosen to do so anonymously, because you're pretty sure he's hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff a/n: I did way too much for something that was supposed to be 2.k word count wise, and is definitely going to flop because of how late I'm posting it but I don't care because it is still technically Valentine's Day. A HUGE thank you to @kitmon for being my incredible beta-half (get it?) and if you like slow burns (and I mean the best ‘GET TOGETHER ALREADY but also please take your time really finding and understanding each other’ fics), go devour their masterlist. Happy reading and Happy Valentine's day ♡ word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

“Are you stalking him again?”

You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile.

Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking.

“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time.

You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her.

“Can you leave this on his desk?”

“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place.

You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there.

Yeah, simple as that.

You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper.

You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

Just write on the paper.

Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

—

Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately, Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared.

He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance.

Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

“I swore.”

Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump.

Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

──

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich.

“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone.

Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note.

After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

─

Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table.

His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, were on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

“Eddie?”

His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

“On the house.”

“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

Was she playing coy?

“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

Chrissy, glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?