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notlongtolove · 1 day ago

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to be an accountant of the heart

because it’s utterly, bone-deep terrifying. to look into the eyes of the person you love most in the world and feel the weight of a possibility that you might love them more than they love you.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: angst-ish, fight and makeup

content: established relationship fight and makeup woof woof rookie bau reader feels insecure about how much she loves spencer, worries she's too clingy, spencer reid best bf ever

word count: 5k

note: this was haunting me in my drafts for the longest time... please be nice my heart can't take it (psa guys don't ever tell ur partners that they love you more than you love them bc 5 years down the road they'll cope by writing deranged spencer reid fics like this)

a line: You’ve always been this way—more flame than moth, more lightning than thunder. It’s one of the things he loves most about you.

and then it is hundreds of hours later, and you are still hunched over your flowcharts and abacus, trying to decide if you have gotten enough. This is the loneliest job in the world: to be an accountant of the heart. - tony hoagland

The English language draws a neat line between many and much. It divides the countable from the uncountable.

The word many is meant for things you can count. How many cups of coffee have you had? How many days will you be gone for?

The word much belongs to what cannot be counted, what cannot be numbered. How much longer do we have in bed? How much did you miss me? How much do you love me?

How much?

It’s an innately impossible question. Love, after all, is supposed to be infinite, unbound, unquantifiable. Any attempt to measure it—to reduce something so sacred to a number, a unit—is to taint it. And why would you want to do that? Why would anyone? There shouldn't be any need to measure something so inherently immeasurable.

Deep down, you know there's no actual way to count love. You suppose this instinct to measure has always been there, to wonder if the love you received can be tallied like time. It’s buried deep, old as the child you once were.

Still, the question begs itself. How much? How much more? How much less? If comparison is the thief of joy it’s only because it leaves you with the revelations nobody asked for, the truths nobody ever wants to see.

Put love on a scale, wait and see—Will it balance or won’t it?

“Glaring at the clock isn’t going to make time pass any faster,” Elle teases from two desks away, her eyes locked on the report she’s skimming.

You don’t bother hiding your sigh as you glance up from where your chin rests heavily in your palm, elbow propped against the desk. The pencil in your other hand twirls idly, betraying your impatience. “He said they landed an hour ago,” you grumble. Only the faintest trace of a pout slips through.

“Working hard or hardly working, ladies?”

Your head perks up at that. Trust Derek Morgan to know how to make an entrance, arriving right on cue, grin wide and swagger intact.

JJ, seated beside you and noticeably more amused by your restlessness than concerned, spins her chair around as she asks, “How was the convention boys?”

“It was great—more than great actually,” Spencer says, appearing from behind Morgan. He’s lugging a bag that seems twice as heavy as when you’d helped him pack it five days ago. “All the speakers were incredible. I got to talk with Lonnie Athens himself. He gave me a signed copy of his latest book.” His grin widens tenfold. “It’s not even out in stores yet.”

You’re halfway out of your seat, ready to pounce on Spencer the moment he sets his bag down. But instead, he offers a halfhug and a light squeeze to your shoulder. It’s understated, but it’s Spencer. Public displays of affection aren’t his thing, and you know better than to expect more. Still, five days without him makes you ache for just a little more.

“It was alright,” Morgan interjects with a casual shrug as he takes a seat at the edge of your table, narrowly missing your nth mug of coffee. “Great sandwiches though.”

“Yeah, you sure seemed interested in the sandwiches,” Spencer says dryly, the kind of tone that suggests sandwiches were not the main attraction.

Morgan smirks, unbothered. “New York, man,” he says with a grin. “New York.”

You turn your attention back to Spencer. “How’d you sleep?” you ask, your question aimed entirely at him.

“Surprisingly well, actually,” Spencer replies, “Despite the snoring.”

Morgan’s response is immediate—a light thwack to the back of Spencer’s head. “How’d he sleep? More like, how’d I sleep. Lover girl over here had him on the phone half the night.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at him. But then your gaze drifts to Spencer, searching for confirmation. “Was I?”

Spencer hesitates, his lips pressing into a faintly sheepish line. “I did wake up late for one of the panels,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh, you think you had it bad? I’ve never seen someone go through so much coffee in a week,” JJ says, nodding in your direction, “She wiped out the entire stock.”

“Almost bashed her over the head with a cup of coffee myself when I had to settle for the instant stuff,” Elle chimes in. A collective shudder goes through the group. “No offence, Reid,” she adds.

“None taken,” Spencer replies smoothly, just in time to earn another smack on his arm, this time from you.

You’ve endured more than your fair share of teasing—it comes with the territory when you’re part of a team like this. You, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, three years his junior. Him, more comfortable rambling about the number of kernels on an average cob of corn than talking to any girl, let alone one with a smile like yours that could make his knees buckle. What had been an odd match to some, made perfect sense to others—Though Spencer would argue that Garcia just liked seeing him with any girl who could make him laugh the way you could, especially within three days of meeting him. It’s a feat nobody else has yet to achieve in the year you’ve been on the team.

“Missed you,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear.

Spencer flushes as his lips part, maybe to respond, but Elle cuts in before he gets the chance. “Save it for later, lover girl. Some of us want to hear about those sandwiches.”

“Oh, they really were better than last year’s,” Spencer begins, now distracted, completely oblivious to Elle’s sarcasm, “Probably because the annual reports showed an increased budget for the global initiatives.”

JJ raises an eyebrow in amused disbelief. “You read the FBI’s annual budget breakdown?”

Spencer looks genuinely surprised by the question. “You don’t?”

Chuckles echo throughout the group and though you smile faintly, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You just can’t help it as the tally marks start to stack up in your mind. One for the way his attention is just a little too distant, his excitement seemingly aimed at everyone but you. Another for every time you wait for his gaze and it doesn’t come. He’s too absorbed in recounting a discussion about deterministic causality he’d had with a keynote speaker.

Compared to Spencer, who was often so reserved, it was easy to feel like your emotions were too big, too eager. Dragging him, wide-eyed and stammering, up the stairs to Hotch’s office six months ago had been nothing short of a test of strength and sheer determination. You’d been the one to silence him with a gentle kiss to his knuckles, promising him that everything would be okay. You were a live wire compared to him, everyone knew that. Lover girl, they teased, though never cruelly. In the field and out of it—Clingy to a fault, always wearing your heart on your sleeve.

Lover girl through and through, you wait patiently for Spencer to look your way.

He doesn’t.

“Yours or mine?” Spencer asks as you stand side by side on the curb, bags in tow.

“Think I’ll go to mine,” you reply curtly. You don’t trust yourself to say anything else right now.

“That’s fine. I’ve got an extra day’s worth of clothes with me.”

“You can go home,” you say, cutting him off. It comes off sharper than you intended. Then, softer, as if trying to backtrack, you add, “If you want.”

He looks at you, baffled. “Why would I do that?”

It’s not a rhetorical question, he genuinely doesn’t understand. Weekends apart have never really been your thing.

“Because—” You cut yourself off mid-sentence. What could you even say? Because you seem so perfectly fine after 120 hours apart. Because the tally marks said so. Because the scale said so. Instead, you huff an exhale and settle for, “No reason. You look tired. Thought you’d want to go home or something.”

“Again sweetheart. Why would I do that?” he repeats, incredulous.

You fight off a resigned sigh, though you’re sure he catches it, and pull out your phone. “I’m calling a cab,” you mumble, thumbing at the screen. “Are you coming or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll come with you,” he says, still calm but clearly confused.

“Fine.”

The ride home is quiet, save for the driver’s rambling complaints about freeway traffic at this hour. Normally, you’d be the one to humour any conversations with strangers, chiming in with polite nods and oh, reallys while Spencer watched, bemused by your ability to make small talk with anyone. But today, you’re just not in the mood, leaving poor Spencer to fend for himself.

Which to his credit, he does—By turning the conversation into a tangent about how traffic patterns correlate with certain hours and commuter behaviour, and delving into a detailed explanation of the queueing theory. He does this till eventually, even the driver goes silent, though whether it’s out of confusion or exhaustion, you’re not quite sure.

You can feel Spencer’s eyes on you in the silence, flicking toward you every now and then. The concern in his attention does nothing to soothe you. If anything, it only fans the flames of your irritation. When the car finally rolls to a stop outside your building, you hand the driver a $20 bill, wave off the change, and stride toward your door without another word. You’re out before Spencer can even pull his door open.

Inside, you drop your things on the couch resignedly and kick off your shoes without so much as a care. They land in a scattered heap that you don’t bother to fix. Spencer lingers behind you, ever patient.

“What do you want for dinner?” His voice is soft, tentative, as he bends down to pick up your discarded shoes, lining them neatly by the door. “We could order something. Chinese, maybe?”

Spencer knows you well—knows how your mood sours when you’re running on fumes. Particularly on days like this, when your only sustenance has been a cup of crappy coffee and a few stale crackers he’d coaxed you into eating earlier just before you left, bribing you with a quick kiss on the cheek—After checking that nobody else was in the break room, of course.

Sullen as you are, you can recognise the offer for what it is. It’s sweet. A thoughtful acknowledgement of how well he knows you, how much he cares. He’s offering you a lifeline, a quiet invitation to let the storm pass without forcing you to name it, something you’re evidently trying not to do.

But tonight, it feels almost patronising. It’s a spotlight on the hurt you can’t quite temper, like he’s trying to fix something you’re not yet ready to admit needs fixing.

“I can run down to the—”

“I’m not hungry.”

You walk straight into your bedroom without another word, leaving him standing there in the doorway. You hear him exhale quietly, not quite a sigh but close. Probably one of resignation. Another tally mark falls on the scale.

“Sweetheart,” he starts. You know he’s testing the waters, trying to find an opening. But you don’t look at him, don’t give him anything to work with. “Can we talk?” he asks, his fingers brushing yours as he takes a seat at the edge of your bed.

“Talk about what?” You’ve always been good at feigning ignorance, but the way you pull your hand away from his is anything but subtle. Spencer sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes briefly. He’s clearly exhausted. This is exhausting. You’re clearly exhausting. You can’t help but wonder why you always do this.

“Was it Elle? Morgan?” he ventures cautiously. “The teasing?”

“They always tease me,” you say with a shrug, your voice dismissive. “I don’t care.”

It’s a half-truth, and you both know it.

Spencer nods slowly as he tries to piece this together. He knows you’re not usually one to let things fester. You’re never angry for long, and even when you are, you laugh it off, always quick to join in on the joke. He knows better than to profile you—it's an unspoken rule within the team and, more importantly, within your relationship. But Spencer’s anything if not desperate to understand.

He watches you slip into the bathroom with a sigh, shoulders dipping. The light flickers on, but you don’t meet your own gaze in the mirror. You’re not angry. That would be easier. There’s something quieter in your eyes. Defeat, maybe.

“I missed you,” he offers, stepping into the doorway. His tone is softer now, pleading.

“Did you?” It’s almost sarcastic, but not quite. Irritable but undercut by something raw, as though you don’t really believe he did.

Spencer swallows. “You don’t think I missed you?”

“A little hard to tell between the fawning over Lonnie Athens,” you say, wiping mascara from under your lashes. “Or was it the in-depth analysis of sandwich platters?”

It’s a snap, all sharp edges and fire, and for a second, he forgets the minefield he’s meant to be tiptoeing through. Has to bite back a smile. You’ve always been this way—more flame than moth, more lightning than thunder. It’s one of the things he loves most about you.

“Is that what this is about?” The words slip out before he can stop them, and the second they do, he knows. Rookie mistake. Your spine straightens, your jaw sets, and he wants to take it back, rewind, try again.

“This,” you echo, turning to face him. “What exactly do you mean by this?”

Spencer reminds himself that fire is never snuffed out with ice. You douse a flame gently, carefully. So, he steps forward, quieter now, fingers grazing yours before he takes your hand in his, guiding you toward the bed. He doesn’t pull, doesn’t rush, just leads you toward the bed with the same patience he knows you need when you’re fragile and burning.

Regardless, you try to resist, to hold yourself upright. You’re fighting the urge to sink into it—His touch, the bed, all of it.

“Sweetheart,” Spencer murmurs, taking a seat beside you. “I know you’re not angry. You’re sad. And I’d really like to know why. Tell me, please?”

Deep inside, you know you’re just clinging on to the last embers of your frustration. But it’s hard—impossible, really, when you’re a fire with no kindle left to burn, and Spencer is all soft whispers and gentle hands, featherlight and soothing.

You hesitate, twisting the fabric of the duvet between your fingers. “I just—I—You were being mean.”

Spencer lets out a slow, quiet breath. Relief, almost. Not because he agrees—He knows himself well enough to be sure that ‘mean’ isn’t the right word. But he knows you well enough to understand what it means when you say it.

Mean is what you say when you’ve been hurt and don’t know how else to put it.

So he follows your lead. Doesn’t fight it.

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbles stroking your hand with his thumb. His touch is warm as it is gentle.

Because it’s not about whether he was mean or not. Spencer knows that. Knows you. Knows that kindness has never been a given for you, knows that you wouldn’t recognise patience if it came knocking. And he knows you well enough to know that you think in some twisted way, that you’ve brought this hurt upon yourself, that you deserve it.

What matters is that you were hurt. And that’s the one thing he never, ever wants to do.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Can you tell me how I did?”

“You just kept going on and on about the stupid conference. You didn’t even hug me or—And then you—”

You don’t continue. You can’t. You feel ridiculous. Stupid, even. Mopey and small over something that shouldn’t matter this much. Over the realisation that he doesn’t need you. And why should he? It’s not Spencer’s fault. Not at all.

His indifference is what it is and what it was. Indifference. It sits like a weight on your bones—Cold, sharp-edged, piercing. He can go 5 days without you. You can’t. The tally marks accumulate, unbidden.

“And then I…?” Spencer prompts gently, prying your fingers from the duvet and replacing the tension with his thumb, tracing slow, soothing circles into your palm instead.

“You ignored me, and I just—” Your voice wavers, frustration bubbling over. "I just felt so—so ignored!"

Wonderful vocabulary. Of course, your words would fail you now.

“And the teasing—I know, I know, I can be impossible sometimes, but I just—I just really missed you! And I get it okay? I’m clingy and you’re not and god forbid anybody else is but it’s because I love you!” You inhale sharply, your hands slipping from his to curl into fists in your lap. “And you didn’t react at all, you didn’t even care! You made me feel like—I thought that you—”

You cut yourself off before the flurry of tears take over and drown you out.

Spencer waits a beat, choosing his next words carefully.

“You thought… that I don’t love you?” His voice isn’t laced with sarcasm, nor does it carry incredulity. It’s a genuine question, as though he’s retracing the moments between you, trying to understand how you could possibly come to such a conclusion.

“No, it’s not that—” you’re quick to say, desperate to correct him. You know Spencer loves you. Of course, you know that. How could you not? It’s Spencer. He loves you like it’s his life mission to show you just how much he loves you. “I know you love—I know that. I just—”

You bury your face in your hands, fingers pressing into the hollows beneath your eyes—A feeble attempt at hiding.

Because it’s utterly, bone-deep terrifying. To look into the eyes of the person you love most in the world and feel the weight of a possibility that you might love them more than they love you.

To want to shout: Love me. Please love me, and please feel it with every fibre of your being as I do with mine. The kind of love that makes you want to scream from rooftops, to etch it into the sky, to burn the world down just to prove its enormity.

Because then the question comes: Which would be worse?

To shout into the vast, open air and hear nothing in response? No echo of the same intensity. Or to stand amidst the smouldering ashes only to look into their eyes and find they don’t recognise you anymore? To see confusion or pity where love used to live.

You blink your watery eyes open, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you settle on the knobs of your knees, tracing their shape with your gaze.

Anything but Spencer. Not right now.

You take a sharp breath, steadying yourself before continuing.

“Sometimes, I feel like you don’t need me as much as I need you and that scares me. And I know it’s stupid, even I feel stupid thinking about it. I don’t even want to be codependent or whatever but I—I just can’t help but think that sometimes—”

Your breath shudders out of you, long and uneven, “I love you more than you love me.”

To say Spencer feels his heart break would be an understatement. It’s not a clean break, not a single, shattering moment—it’s a slow, relentless unraveling. It’s a gut punch, pain and duress packed tight, failure laced in every syllable. His heart shatters, splintering into pieces so sharp they lodge in his throat, in his lungs, in every part of him that has ever loved you.

Silently, he’s always known the teasing would hit a breaking point. You’ve worn that insecurity for as long as he’s known you—too young, too green, too desperate to prove yourself. He just didn’t think it would carve its way between you the two of you like this. He’s watched you lean into it, let the jokes land, let them chip away at you. Newbie. Rookie. Lover girl. As if laughing along might soften the edges of it all.

You flop onto your back on the bed, boneless, the confession stealing the last of your fight. There’s a splotch of blue paint on the ceiling from last month, when you both tried to repaint the room and got distracted halfway through. It doesn’t make you smile, not even a little.

“That’s not true.” The mattress dips under Spencer’s weight as he settles beside you, thumb tracing your hairline. His arm moves, coaxing you to toward him, gentle in the way only he knows how to be with you.

“You’re not impossible, sweetheart, you never are. And I know they tease,” he murmurs, fingers of his other hand grazing over your knuckles, “but I also know for a fact that you don’t fall apart without me when I’m gone. That would be co-dependency. And I know that’s not you. You passed your requalifications with flying colors while I was away,” he says. “Garcia sent me the records. You know you even beat Morgan’s old score?”

You sniffle, startled. That had been your surprise. You’d wanted to tell him yourself.

“She told you?”

He shakes his head. “I asked. I always ask for updates on you when I can’t be there.”

A small “Oh,” is all you can get out.

With every other guy you dated, you’d attempted to play it cool, dialling down your enthusiasm, biting back your texts, and pretending to care less than you did. But every relationship seemed to end the same way: you were “a lot” and they weren’t equipped to handle it. It never quite stuck though, and thank god for that.

Because then you met Spencer.

Sweet, steady Spencer, who didn’t just tolerate your spark but cherished it. Spencer, who had let you cling to his hand during every takeoff and landing on the jet the first week on the job. He never flinched, never teased—Even when everyone else casted him sympathetic looks, the kind that silently acknowledged how your grip was probably cutting off his circulation. Spencer who has kept every scrawled doodle and note you’ve ever given for him, even the ones scribbled haphazardly on napkins or receipts. He knows carbon prints fade within months so he stores them in a shoebox tucked away in his cupboard—Just so they can last that much longer.

Spencer didn’t just accept the parts of you others found overwhelming. He singlehandedly brought them back to life. Every bit of your spark that had been dimmed or snuffed out by someone else had found new light in his presence.

Spencer’s fingers tighten around yours, a quiet kind of reassurance that draws you back to the present.

“Being clingy is not the same as being codependent. I know you know that. There’s a clear psychological difference in brain chemistry.” His lips twitch, the smallest hint of a smile slipping through. “You’re clingy, yes. But I love that about you. I love coming home with you. I love coming home to you. I love how hard you love me, how proudly you love me. I know I haven’t been the best at reciprocating that around the team, and I’m sorry. I hate that I made you feel like I didn’t love you, or miss you.”

He shifts closer, eyes searching yours, open and earnest. “Because I did miss you. So much. I nearly blew a month’s paycheck in the gift shop. Spent half of it stocking up on those jelly crackers you told me about.” He shakes his head, like he can’t believe himself. “Morgan said I was whipped when I paid thirty bucks for a pair of souvenir socks.”

With a raise of your eyebrow you ask tearily, “and exactly how many pairs did you buy?”

“Got you three pairs.” A sheepish little laugh escapes him as he ducks his head.

And just like that, you’re smiling too. Albeit a small one, but that’s progress nonetheless. “And I don’t think you quite understand how much I love you when you say you love me more.” He leans in, his voice dropping, teasing. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m very competitive.”

“Oh, so I’ve heard Doctor Reid,” you quip, eyes rolling. Spencer’s lips curve, just slightly. You don’t even notice the way you press closer to him, but Spencer does. He takes the opportunity to go on.

“In a way, you’re right. I don’t need you,” Spencer says. Whiplash doesn’t even begin to describe the way your head snaps toward him. Flame and lighting, no doubt.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says quickly, his expression already twisting in regret. “I shouldn’t have phrased it like that.”

“I don’t see what other way you could possibly phrase something like that,” you snap pettily, already pushing yourself up to stand.

“Hey, hey.” His hand reaches out, not quite grabbing yours but close enough to make you pause. “Lie back down, honey. Please.”

Against your better judgment, you relent, sinking back into the bed. “What I meant to say was, I don’t need you,” he repeats, slower this time, deliberate.

You scoff, a bitter laugh slipping through your lips as you swipe harshly at your damp lashes. “I get it, Spencer. Clearly you don’t.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” he says, his voice unwavering. “Biologically speaking, I wouldn’t cease to exist without you. My heart would continue to beat, my lungs would continue to expand and contract, my brain would maintain its synaptic functions. I would survive.” He pauses then, eyes searching yours, “And can I tell you something?”

You don’t answer, but you don’t pull away either. He takes that as permission to go on. “You don’t need me either.”

Your lips part, the beginnings of a protest forming, but he cuts you off gently.

“I know you said you do, but your autonomic nervous system would still regulate your breathing, your neurons would still fire, your body would persist.” He swallows, voice dipping lower. “But that’s not the point, is it? Love isn’t about biological necessity. It’s not about survival. It’s about choice.”

The word "choice" feels almost ironic when it comes from Spencer Reid. You knew that the moment you met him. It was never really a choice, not for you. It was him, or nothing. Desperately, you'd like to think it was the same for him, too.

Your answer comes in the form of his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. He’s patient, always, even when you aren’t. Kind in a way that sinks deep—Like you deserve it. You’re all sharp edges, brittle and worn, and he’s five days off a lumpy hotel mattress, yet the only thing he cares about is brushing away the tears from your skin.

“Sweetheart, I don’t love you because I need you. I don’t think that would be love at all. That’s survival. I love you because I choose you to,” he continues. “Because you are the strongest person I know. Because you are kind, even when the world hasn’t been kind to you. Because you give so much of yourself without hesitation, without ever expecting anything in return.”

Spencer smiles, shaking his head. “Because you’re the only person I know who will spend thirty minutes on a call recounting every little thing everyone did in the office that you think I’d like to hear about—before you even think to tell me about your own day.”

“It was funny! Since when has Hotch ever tripped on the stairs?”

It’s unfair really, how easily his laugh breathes life back into you. Your heart stumbles over itself as his hand brushes tenderly along your jaw.

“I’ve spent every day in awe of you since the moment I met you. And I fall in love with you more and more with each one. Even on the days I’m not with you. Even on the days I’m miles away. Even then.” Spencer presses his lips against the back of your hand as he adds, “Especially then.”

“Really?”

You can’t help it, the quiet little thing in you that wants to hear it again.

Your tears have dried, but their traces still shimmer faintly on your skin. Spencer presses a kiss to your forehead, his fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He’d say it again. A hundred times. He’d make that speech a thousand times over, if you needed him to. If it meant you’d never doubt it again.

“Really, my love.”

And just like that, a million tally marks fall at your feet.

A million for the way he presses another kiss to your lips, unrushed. A million more for the way his nose bumps against yours, lingering, breathing you in. Another million for the spark that creeps back into your eyes.

It’s infinite, unbound, unquantifiable—The way he loves you, the sheer depth of it. You feel foolish for ever having questioned it. You thank your lucky stars—all of them—for Spencer Reid. For the way he’s looking at you like you strung the constellations together yourself. For the way he chooses you, again and again, even when you don’t choose him, when you shut down, when you go quiet.

Because love to Spencer isn’t desperation, isn’t need—it’s choice. The deliberate, unwavering act of reaching out, of staying, and of saying over and over: I choose you.

Not because he has to, but because he wants to. To be the one to put you back together again when you’re all embers and ash, to cradle you back onto earth when stare past him into the ceiling, to remind you that there’s still warmth in you left to hold.

To breathe the spark back into your eyes—It’s a choice he made the very moment he met you. It’s a spark Spencer swears he’d spend his whole life keeping alight.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments or reblogs are very much appreciated!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: daylight by taylor swift intrapersonal by turnover

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k1ng-ej · 2 days ago

Note

Hello~!!! Could you write a shadow x gn! reader fic of shadow taking reader out for valentines day? take your time, thank you!!

I believe in a thing called Love - Shadow x Reader

Note: thank you for the request! i hope you enjoy :) all other requests are in the works currently

You sighed with disappointment, fingers lightly thrumming along the armrest of the couch. The TV played a movie in the background, providing a comfortable atmosphere for you to get lost in your thoughts. Shadow promised you weeks ago that you two would do something nice for Valentine's day, you hadn't figured out what exactly, but you assumed he would come up with something. You didn't care if you stayed in, or went out, you just wanted to enjoy the company of your partner for the day. Shadow was often busy, but he tried his best to make every moment he was home a memorable one. You took a glance at the window, the sky had already begun to darken, splashes of pink and orange painting the previously blue canvas as the sun kissed the horizon. Doubt was creeping in despite how many times you told yourself Shadow never broke promises. He has made you many promises throughout your relationship, and he has not broken one, yet.

A white flash assaulted your retinas, you instinctively screwed your eyes shut until it was over. Shadow stood just in the entryway of the living room, his lips resting in a fine line and his brows naturally furrowed.

"Welcome home." You sighed, leaning your chin against your palm. Maybe he forgot what day it was, that made you disappointed. Shadow didn't seem like someone who forgets days that are important to you, he tries his best to be the perfect partner for you, despite him being very closed off. He is not good with words, but he makes up for it through actions. There has been instances in your relationship where you become frustrated with him because you cant quite understand what goes on through his head, and he doesn't tell you. In these moments Shadow will get quiet, approach you with a soft look in his eyes and tell you he's sorry, all while peppering kisses along your face. This is usually enough to make you forgive him.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Shadow begin to approach. You were expecting an excuse as to why he had been gone all day, followed up by an apology. His gloved hand outstretched toward you, beckoning you to take it. You looked up with a quirked brow to see a fond smile dancing across his lips. "I want to take you somewhere."

Slowly, you placed your hand in his, and he gave you a gentle yet firm squeeze as he pulled you up from the couch. Excitement bubbled in your chest, was he finally taking you out? You couldn't help the grin that stretched across your lips and the giggle that escaped you as Shadow swooped you into his arms, carrying you bridal style.

"Close your eyes, it's a surprise." His breath was warm against your ear, you could feel the vibrations from his chest as he spoke. You obliged, letting your eyes flutter shut.

"Is this my valentines surprise?"

"You'll see." You felt the soft sensation of his lips on your forehead for a split moment before it was gone, you yearned for more. Shadows grasp on you tightened before you heard him call out 'Chaos Control', behind your closed lids you could see the bright flash, and you clung onto him as the world around you began to warp and change.

The soft thud of Shadows feet planting on the ground broke the silence, next came the soft chirping of birds and a gentle cool breeze. You shivered, nuzzling into the warmth of your boyfriend, who chuckled at you. "Are we there yet?"

"Yes, you may open your eyes now." Shadow slowly set you onto your feet, keeping his hand on your lower back until you could balance yourself. You let your eyes peel open and take in your surroundings, a soft gasp escaping from your lips. In front of you was a small, but fancy diner you always dreamt of coming to. It emitted an intimate and elegant atmosphere with its dark colors, and warm overhead lighting. From outside of the glass entrance doors you could see empty two seater tables that had fancy white cloths draped over them. On top of the tables were menus, empty wine glasses and a lit candle in the middle. You stared in awe, mouth slightly agape before you spun to face shadow.

"You shouldn't have! I mean really, this place is so expensive and, gosh, this is for, like, anniversary dinners-"

"Price does not matter to me. You are always talking about this diner and how much you would love to eat here one day, that day is today. I'm sorry for being absent all day, it was much harder to rent out the place than I thought." He cut you off with a shake of his head, stepping forward and taking your hand into his. He wore a fond smile as he placed a kiss on your knuckles. "You deserve to eat at all of the fancy restaurants you desire." His half-lidded gaze set butterflies off in your stomach, and you felt heat quickly form on your cheeks.

"Thank you, Shadow. This is really sweet of you." You offered him a warm smile before he started leading you inside. Upon stepping in, warm air hugged you like a blanket, immediately soothing the chills you had from being outside. A hostess greeted you both and led you to your table, it was located near a window, giving you view of the setting sun over the ocean. You thanked the hostess as you sat down across from shadow, taking the menu in your fingertips and scanning through it. You hadn't expected him to rent out an entire restaurant for you two, let alone such an expensive one. You made a mental note to thank him again later. After choosing what you were going to order you placed the menu back on the table only to be greeted by a pair of crimson eyes looking at you.

"Something on my face?" You asked with a chuckle, resting your hands in your lap.

"Just admiring you." His voice was just above a whisper, he had his face leaning against his hand. Somehow, even though you two were in a relationship he never failed to make you feel like you were crushing on him all over again. He still had the ability to make you blush like crazy, and get shy with him. It was rare that Shadow acted cheesy and romantic, but when he did he had your heart racing and your face as red as a tomato. A smirk played across his lips as you blushed at his words, turning your gaze to anything but him. Not long after a waitress came and took your orders, quickly scurrying off as to not disturb your romantic evening.

While waiting for your food and drinks, you let yourself get lost in the view beside you. The sky was beginning to dark, allowing for it's stars to shine beautifully. The reflection of the sun on the water paired with the stripe of orange in the sky created a picture worthy sight. However, as you glanced back to the hedgehog in front of you, you concluded that he was the better view, one that would not disappear when night fell, one that did not change throughout the days, he remained the same, he remained perfect. Sunsets can easily be covered by gloomy clouds, shielding it's beauty from the rest of the world. There were no clouds to cover Shadows beauty, every day, he would shine brightly, like the sun to your moon, but he would never set. He was always visible to you, the warmth of his rays always there to keep your heart and soul from becoming too cold.

You watched as Shadow opened his mouth to say something, he hesitated, looked away, then looked back to you with certainty in his eyes. "I love you."

#oneshot #fluff #x reader #shadow the hedgehog fanfic #shadow x reader #shadow fanfic #shadow the ultimate lifeform #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fandom #sonic movie 3 #sonic prime #sonic idw #shadow the hedgehog x reader #mikeyreqs

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ryemackerel · 2 days ago

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THE BOYS IN VALENTINES OUTFITS OAGAHAHGHH THEYRE SO STINKY. HAPPY VALENTINES TO EVERY INCREDIBLE PERSON OUT THERE!!! And yes. that means YOU READING THIS! YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD DAY OR ELSE!! Sending lots of love to all of you. :-]

The main four + a gift for my wife @starrixle :-] oh my goodness and yes I advocate for starmackerel to be the ship name i love you vro

I drew the sillies wearing Valentines inspired outfits! Matt with a simpler and really cool look, Edd’s fashion sense being ALL OVER THE PLACE /AFFECTIONATE, Tom sporting the checkers and insisting he just half-assed it (but trust me he looks amazing), and Tord literally bullshitting his outfit with the stupidest shirt.. and easter eggs to the “PP Pals” and “Brow Bros” badges from Paul and Pat. :-) I spedran this bc I have an appointment HAGAHAH BUT!!

I had so much fun working on this, and I loved how it turned out <3 Hoping you guys enjoy it too!

AND AS FOR ALL OF YOU!! If I could give everyone, every individual person a box of chocolates I WOULD!! Digital chocolate boxes for all. and hugs. happiness everywhere. Wishing the bestest day to all of you folks, to my friends and my partner. <3 Thank you all!!

SPEAKING OF PARTNER!! STAR!!!! YOU DORK YOU FUCKING GOOBER I LVOE YOU BRO!?!!!! Thank you so much for the times you spent with me and the little moments we shared together <333 I’m going to see u and HOLD U SO TIGHT GOD. That little doodle is for you. You are too awesome you deserve the entire world bro. Thank you for everything <333

#eddsworld #eddsworld fanart #eddsworld matt #eddsworld matt fanart #ew matt fanart #ew matt #eddsworld edd #eddsworld edd fanart #ew edd #ew edd fanart #eddsworld tom #eddsworld tom fanart #ew tom #ew tom fanart #eddsworld tord #eddsworld tord fanart #ew tord #ew tord fanart #ryemackerel art thing

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anonymousewrites · 3 days ago

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A Not-So-Disastrous Romance Valentine's Day Special

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Valentine's Day Special 2025

“Welcome to the P.K. Academy Valentine’s Day Dance!” said Hairo, standing onstage and smiling at his classmates. “I hope you all have a great evening! We’ve got food, drinks, some games on tables, and music. Let me know if you need anything. Now, let’s dance!” Behind him, the hired band struck up, and the students cheered.

“Hairo did a great job planning!” said Kuboyasu.

“What’s with all the hearts? Is this a surgery party?” said Nendou.

“Idiot.”

“No, this is for Valentine’s Day,” said Kaidou.

“Not that it matters, we’re all single,” sighed Yumehara.

“Not everyone,” said Kuboyasu.

“I’m just lucky,” said (Y/N), beaming at Saiki.

He softened slightly as they looked at him and nodded. I’m the lucky one. “Yes.”

“We should try some of the cupcakes, Kusuo,” said (Y/N), eyes landing on the tables of sweets. “Have fun, you guys!” They looped their arm around Saiki’s and dragged him towards the side of the room.

I’m jealous.

Saiki smirked at everyone’s thoughts. Yeah, well, they’re my partner.

(Y/N) and Saiki each grabbed a cupcake and bit into it. They sighed happily. They were delicious.

“Red velvet,” said Saiki, nodding approvingly.

“Look!” (Y/N) held up the candy heart decorating their cupcake. “ ‘Ur cute!’ ” They grinned at him.

Saiki managed not to blush at the compliment, so honest coming from (Y/N). He looked at the candy heart on his cupcake. “ ‘Be mine.’ ”

(Y/N) laughed. “I’m already yours,�� they said.

Saiki was very glad they were.

(Y/N) looked over at where their friends hovered at the side of the dance floor. “Hm…”

“(Y/N).”

“What?” said (Y/N) “innocently.”

“You’re thinking of getting up to something,” said Saiki.

“…Yes,” said (Y/N), smiling. “I was thinking of getting some of our friends to dance.”

“I’m not going to be able to stop you, am I?” said Saiki.

“Nope!” chirped (Y/N). “Be right back!” They handed their cupcake to Saiki and ran back towards their friends.

Saiki stood and watched, curious about what they were planning on. They talked to several people, gesturing to the dance floor. A few people turned red, and (Y/N) laughed, dragging them out.

Huh, thought Saiki.

(Y/N) stood with a pleased smile and hands on their hips, looking at the dancing partners they made. Dancing not well were Kaidou and Kuboyasu. Neither had grace, but they were having a lot of fun, that was for sure. Kaidou was red in the face, but that was nothing compared to his thoughts—not that Kuboyasu was much better. And as for the other couple, Rifuta was turning bright red as well as she held Teruhashi’s hands and danced. Teruhashi was smiling kindly at Rifuta, and Saiki sighed. Hopefully everyone staring at the cutest and most beautiful girls in the world meant no one would pay attention to him. He wanted some peace and quiet with (Y/N).

Speaking of which, they had returned to his side. “What do you think of my work?” They grinned.

“It might work,” said Saiki.

“Might get a few people some love lives,” joked (Y/N).

“And get people to stop bugging us,” said Saiki.

“Come on, Kusuo, it’s Valentine’s Day! Have some romantic spirit,” teased (Y/N). “We’re not the only ones who get to date.”

“Yare yare,” said Saiki, and (Y/N) just laughed. “Fine.”

“Fine?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

“Fine.” Saiki took (Y/N)’s hands. “You want romantic spirit. You’ll get some.”

“So sweet,” said (Y/N).

“Do you want to dance?” asked Saiki, looking at them

(Y/N) brightened. “I’d love to.”

Saiki led them to the dance floor, and (Y/N) happily held his hands. Playfully, they spun him, and Saiki indulged them. He was unable to ever say no to his partner. He loved them too much. (Y/N) grinned at him, and he twirled them in return, and as they laughed, Saiki smiled. Moving with the music, he held them and spun them in the air, and (Y/N) held onto him, letting out a yelp of surprise but smiling. When they spun back to the ground, (Y/N) landed with their arms around his neck and his around their waist.

“Thanks for always indulging me,” said (Y/N).

�� “You make things fun,” said Saiki.

(Y/N)’s smile was full of warmth and love. “So do you.” They pulled him closer. “I love you, Kusuo.”

“I love you, too.” And Saiki dipped them into a kiss.

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ask-sludgecat · 1 day ago

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Sort of! The mortise is a device partially devised by my creator.

The etymology is quite fascinating, I think! A mortise is traditionally one half of a very simple carpentry junction, yes. Its shape does not dictate what material is needed to interface, only that the complementary half be the appropriate positive space.

This is a term used among palagrins to...

...describe most communication devices of its nature. In a similar way, I understand that you all use the term "computer" to describe a vast array of different concepts (even applied to ones of your own species, historically)! We, too, have devices which are best translated as being computers, but a mortise is a more specific designation.

The mortise I hold here is of special make, and it is the device through which you and I are able to speak so easily! The exact nature of what makes it unique, though, is best described by Silted Frost himself. I've offered to transcribe as he speaks:

Please accept my benevolence and most sincere apologies for having enjoyed these Delays to sharing with you our first Cross communication. Near Water and Ragged Breath has novelly delivered to you my name, though I reiterate: I am Silted Frost, Nine Ruby Droplets, Former Architect and Wind Villa Vagabond.

This device became functional only unexpectedly, whilst my companion quibbled with it over the snow. I cannot...

He has actually been pacing for some time now. I transcribed exactly as those words were delivered. Though, he seems ready to continue:

I cannot lay out for you the mix of emotions I feel in speaking to an audience which is not Near Water.

Right, yes. My device is uniquely capable of long-distance communication via three-and-twenty basic particles. Energy from void rarefaction is concentrated and directed to selectively adjust Bloch vectors in such a way that creates an entanglement, ideally with a targeted set of particles some space away. It was found that a temporally-dense enough pulse of energy can be used to tweak various properties of these particles via dipolar coupling and resolved-sideband laser cooling. I sit within the yoke of my ancestors for this to be possible, though, as void-technology is the only methodology which has made such precision instruments, such as cooling past zero-point, Possible.

The inevitable barrier I'd encountered was the realization that, due to the nature of entanglement, no three-and-twenty particles could be targeted with any level of selectiveness. To say "targeted" even was simply inaccurate. The mortise would have to be cycled until some set of particles was snagged that showed some promise of some redundancy and patterning. The Cycles drained while it searched were, in hindsight, a substantive resource failure.

I admit, though, that you were not my goal. Your species is both far and flawed, and in many ways incapable of internalizing what I intended to ask of this mortise's counterpart. Learning more about your world has been myself and Near Water and Ragged Breath's sole focus for Three Cycles now, and many paths have opened. Many more have closed, in a way, but this is to be expected. It is a joy to know that this mortise were feasible, were Possible. Odd as it is.

I look forward to more Cross with you, truly! Though it was with some pain I had peeled myself from my study to speak. My partner's eagerness to talk indeed surpasses my own, at least in the meantime. I prefer to know all and what else, as much as I can, before communicating. You will hear more of me in time.

Not much I can add, I think! Thank you for your inquiry, as always. Pleasant Cycles. 💛

#rw ask blog #sludgecat answers #silted frost nine ruby droplets #lore text #rw ancients #rw slugcat

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sleepstxtic · 3 days ago

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Birthday Fic Reclist - NV-MD

Dear Ali @nv-md, happiest birthday to you!!!! <3 You are such a brilliant writer and the best beta and the kindest, warmest friend, and also such an important part of my (and so many others'!) fandom experience. I appreciate so much that I get to share this space with you and bask in your creative work, and be able to hang around in your incredibly uplifting and positive orbit <3 Thank you for all you do here, I'm so happy you're in this fandom, truly.

This is a reclist of some of my favourite Ali fics, and has some of the "Ali classics" mixed in with some hidden gems that I adore so very very much!!!! (It was very hard to choose a top 5 because Ali is SO prolific and has over 70 works on her AO3, all SPECTACULAR!!)

Let Me Take You Home | M | 1k | Ginsy

FEMSLASH MY BELOVED!!! This is a Ginsy that I rec SO hard. The characterisations are brilliant, and Ali's writing hits just right. Set in a fragile, post-war world where everyone is struggling to heal, and Ginsy find each other and learn to heal together. There is so much story and depth packed into just 1k words, and a beautiful repeating motif that comes together so satisfyingly at the end. BEGGING EVERYONE TO READ THIS <3

Draco Malfoy Absolutely Does Not Need to Be Loved by Harry Bloody Potter | E | 18k | Drarry

This fic!!! This masterpiece!!!! It is SUCH a sweet, funny, lovely fuckbuddies-to-lovers accidental bonding fic that just hits all the beats PERFECTLY. The pining is so sweet and delicious and the getting together is just the perfect amount of fluffy and heartfelt. The BEST read for when you want something light and fun that you can just sink yourself into and enjoy to the fullest. <3 (Oh and there is also some spectacular art to go with it!!)

but first, we fight | E | 8k | Drarry

THIS FIC OH MY GOD THIS FIC. It's a distinctly different flavour to the one above but is still equally incredible and such a riveting read. The Drarry dynamic here is ELECTRIC. LITERALLY IT IS SIZZLING. Fighting-to-sex at its FINEST! The angst is scrumptious and hurts so good, and I would recommend this so so extra hard to anyone who is looking for a spicy enemies to lovers story to kick back with <3 Featuring Drarry as extremely competent Auror partners + a host of delectable kinks. SO GOOD!!!!

Bite Me - Vampires All Day | 6k | T-E | Drarry

Cheating a bit with this one since this is a series and not a fic, but I can't help it!!! IT'S SO GOOD. Drarry as vampire boyfriends is DELICIOUSLY DARK. Another suuuper fascinating Drarry characterisation (Ali finds so many different ways to portray their dynamic, without ever compromising on what makes them them!). Harry and Draco are both so enticingly jaded and cruel. Reading about these murder boyfriends zipping around the world leaving a trail of bodies in their wake is something only Ali could make simultaneously spine-tinglingly dark and SIZZLING HOT!! Also, they write 1st person POV so good, and this fic is no exception!!!

Kiss Me, Fuck Me, Love Me | 5k | E | Drarry

One of my actual favourites from Erised this year, this was such a delightful and sexy romp. The non-linear timeline was so so masterfully done, the way we went back and forth until we converged on New Year's. The pining was so sweet (Ali's pining is always top tier! I'm such a sucker for it, as you can tell xD) and the getting together was CHEF'S KISS. Highly recommend this if you're looking for another light-hearted (and hot!) read <3

Eeeee once again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALI!!!! WE LOVE YOU!! <333

#sleepstxtic recs #nv-md writes #drarry recs #ginsy #harry potter fanfiction #birthday reclist

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vandme12 · 2 days ago

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Ronin with a partner that knows how to fight but one day they get injured like SUPERRR that they pass out

Blood.

It drips between his fingers, hot and wet, soaking into the torn fabric of your clothes. The deep, jagged wound along your side isn’t slowing, the bleeding steady, relentless, staining everything it touches.

His fingers press harder against it, trying to stop the flow, but it’s everywhere. You’re everywhere—your scent, your warmth, the familiar weight of you in his arms. It’s wrong. It’s all wrong.

Ronin has seen a lot of things in his life. Caused a lot of things, too. He’s watched men die, listened to their gurgling last breaths with a smirk on his lips, left bodies behind like calling cards. Blood and guts don’t faze him. Nothing fazes him.

Until now.

Until you.

His hands shake, just slightly. He presses down harder.

“Hey.” His voice is rough, not his usual lilting, teasing tone. There’s no sing-song lilt, no performance. He’s not playing at anything right now. “C’mon, sweetheart, open those pretty eyes for me.”

“Shit—hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart.” His voice is sharp, but there’s an edge to it. Frantic. A tone no one ever hears from him. His fingers tighten, trying to stop the bleeding, but it just keeps coming.

He’s used to blood. Loves blood. He’s spilled it, played in it, painted art with it. But not yours.

Never yours.

Nothing.

Your face is slack, barely breathing, your chest rising and falling unevenly. The fight had been a mess, but it shouldn’t have been like this. You were always careful. Always strong. Always just a step ahead of the carnage, moving like you belonged in it, like you could dance in blood and come out unscathed.

And yet here we are.

Ronin looks at you.

Of you slipping away before he can tell you—

His jaw clenches, teeth grinding together so hard he might crack something.

“Shit,” he hisses. “You always gotta be so goddamn difficult, huh?”

Your blood is soaking into his clothes.

The bastards who did this? Dead. Already. He made sure of it. Ripped them apart before they even had time to beg. But it wasn’t enough. It didn’t fix anything. It didn’t erase the fact that you were still lying here, pale and unmoving in his arms.

And he hates it.

Ronin shifts, adjusting his grip beneath you, his movements precise, careful in a way that feels foreign to him. He’s not careful. He’s never careful. But now? Now he has to be.

Because it’s you.

“Just hold on,” he mutters, voice low, almost a plea. He doesn’t beg. He doesn’t do that. But maybe—maybe just this once—

He stands, pulling you against him as he moves, carrying you like you weigh nothing. You’re warm, too warm, feverish from blood loss, your breathing shallow against his throat. His pulse thunders beneath his skin, but his face is blank, his expression unreadable.

Not here.

Not now.

He can’t lose you.

Won’t.

Not ever.

The first thing you feel is pain. A dull, aching throb that radiates from your side, spreading like fire.

The second thing you feel is warmth.

A weight draped over you, something solid, something familiar.

Blinking is hard, your eyelids heavy, but you manage. The world is blurry, shadows bleeding into each other. But when you try to move, to sit up, a hand presses against your shoulder, firm but careful.

“Hey, hey, don’t start pulling that stubborn shit already.”

The voice is familiar.

You blink again, vision swimming, and then—

Ronin.

He’s leaning against the bed, one arm slung lazily across his bent knee, but his whole body is tense. His usual smirk is nowhere to be found. His eyes—sharp, burning—lock onto yours the second you look at him.

Your throat is dry. You swallow. “You—”

“Me?” His voice is too casual, too smooth. Fake. His hand shifts, fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “Nah, sweetheart, we’re talking about you.”

You try to piece together what happened. The fight. The blood. The cold, creeping exhaustion—

Your stomach twists. “I—”

Ronin tuts, pressing a finger against your lips. “Shhh.” He leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath ghost over your skin. His usual teasing grin flickers back into place, but there’s a tension beneath it, something frayed and raw at the edges.

“You scared the shit outta me.”

You blink at him. “You?”

“Yeah, me,” he mutters. “Believe it or not, I don’t exactly enjoy watching you bleed out in my arms.” His voice drops, quieter. “Not a fan of that. Not one bit.”

Your chest tightens, the weight of his words sinking in.

You reach for his hand. His fingers twitch when you lace them together, but he doesn’t pull away.

“…Sorry,” you murmur.

Ronin stares at you.

Then he laughs. It’s not his usual laughter—it’s sharp, edged with something almost hysterical. His free hand comes up, brushing over your forehead, sweeping hair back from your face.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, shaking his head. His grip tightens just slightly, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “You think I want an apology?”

Your lips part, but before you can say anything, he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. His voice is lower now, steadier, but there’s an edge to it. A promise.

“I don’t need an apology,” he murmurs. “I just need you to not do that again.”

You swallow. “I’ll try.”

His eyes flick down to your lips, then back up. He exhales sharply, his body finally relaxing—just a little. His thumb rubs absent circles over the back of your hand.

“…Good enough,” he mutters.

And for now, it is.

"If you want to get into fights, Let me join, Maybe, I want to see how this life goes until the end..?"

#kc #killer chat #killerchat #killer chat x reader #killer chat ronin #ronin beaufort #ronin x reader #kc ronin #kc ronin x reader #killer chat ronin x reader

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fizzing-imagines · 1 day ago

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Take Me To Church | Eddie Munson x Pastors Daughter! Reader

Notes: I have noticed that Christian girls are either incredibly sexualised or incredibly rude in most fics. So I'm here to feed you another version. Enjoy! 🤍

Words: 7.5k

Warnings: None, pure fluff!

Eddie never attended church. In fact, he avoided it like the plague. But there was one day a year he went: When Wayne made him go on Christmas Eve. He said it's "Part of Christmas, and the reason why you get a present in the first place.", so Eddie couldn't argue about that with his uncle. So he sat in the pew, surrounded by hundreds of strangers who all probably felt the same as Wayne. And the situation gave him a little laugh when he saw Gareth in the pew behind him, all dapper in a suit his mother made him wear.

He did have another feeling besides some fun; Adoration.

Eddie first saw you when you stood behind the podium to read the story of how Mary got pregnant and Jesus was born. You wore a white veil over half your hair, that just made your (Y/H/C) locks look even more beautiful. A small blush played on your cheeks, which made your (Y/E/C) eyes stand out more. For the first time, Eddie actually listened while sitting in church. He was so fascinated by your voice, he'd listen to you all day even if you were just reading from the Bible. And when you stepped down from the podium, your red, long skirt did a small bounce with every step you took. How has he never noticed you before? You must be around his age, and Hawkins High was the only school in town.

His eyes kept wandering over to you, watching how you sat next to the preacher with a woman that looked an awful lot like you. Is that your mother?

He heard your angelic voice again when you made the announcements at the end. Again, he listened closely to your beautiful voice, even if the information given didn't matter to him. He left church happy, for the very first time. And with actually knowing the story of Jesus for the first time in his life.

When everyone returned to school after the holidays, Eddie kept an eye out for you. It only took him until his third period to see you walking into his world class. How has he never noticed you before? Sure, you dressed pretty modest and not in a way that would draw attention. But your face. How could he never see your beautiful face? Now that you had your hair up in a ponytail, he could see your pretty features even better. And he knew it had to be you when he saw the gold cross charm hanging on your necklace.

He had to admit to himself that he had an immediate crush on a church girl. Out of all people.

But how would be talk to you? There is no way that you'd actually wanna hang out with him. But faith, or maybe even God himself, played into his hands that day when the teacher announced a partner project. She put teams together by drawing names from a bowl.

"Edward Munson and (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." You looked up in an attempt to find Edward. You've never heard his name before, but quickly saw him when he gave you a small wave. Once you two pushed your tables and chairs together, the teacher announced the assignment: a presentation about a historical figure from any country and time. That sounds fun!

Everyone in class started chatting, and so did you. "Do you have an idea?" Honestly, Edward looked a bit lost. "So, I was thinking maybe Amelia Earhart or Harriet Tubman. Unless you have any ideas, of course." You are so nice and chirpy, Eddie thought. How adorable.

"I know embarrassingly little about historical figures.", he admitted. But despite that confession, you still smiled. "That's okay, we all have our interests. I really enjoy reading about women in history, so I can give you some suggestion and we can choose together." How were you so kind? It amazed him.

You took your notebook out and wrote down a few names, then turned it to show him. With a lot of patients, you gave him a quick rundown of every woman in history you could report about. From Joan D'Arc, to Queen Elizabeth I, all the way to Anne Frank. He appreciated your patience, and getting to listen to your sweet voice was a nice bonus. In the end, the two of you agreed on Mary, Queen of Scots.

"I have a few books on her, maybe you can come over after school?", you suggested in a chirpy tone. How are you so nice? "Just, uhm...maybe see what you wear. I think it's up to you to wear what makes you happy, but my dad is a pastor, and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." Eddie looked down at his Hellfire Shirt and the pins in his jean jacket. "I'll find something else, I think.", he said with a slight grin. How adorable was it that you warned him. "But he'll like your ring.", you said with a giggle while pointing at the thick, cross-with-skulls ring Eddie had on his pointer. "Oh yeah?", he said with laughter laced in his voice. "You like it, too?" You giggled at that. "I think I do." You leaned foward a bit. "Yeah, it's pretty!"

When he left class that day, he's never felt happier. He didn't know projects could actually be fun. You two agreed to meet the next evening at your house for the project and dinner. Eddie truly has never been more excited to eat at somebody elses home.

"Good evening.", he greeted the woman that opened the door. It was the same woman who sat next to you in church, so he figured that she was your mother. He didn't notice her pregnant belly last time, but now he did. "Good evening, you must be Eddie." Her voice was just as calming and relaxed as yours. Now he knew where you got it from. "Yeah, I'm here to do the project with (Y/N)." She nodded and hurried him inside before giving him a pair of single-use slippers.

"Honey, your friend is here!", your mother yelled upstairs. He heard some footsteps coming downstairs at a quick pace, then you stood before him. "Hey Eddie.", you chirped. "Dinner's ready in 30 minutes, show him around in the meantime.", your mother advised before walking back in the kitchen. You nodded and started showing him around. The living room was massive, and he was a bit confused once he saw 12 chairs at the large dining room table. It all made sense when he saw pictures upon pictures of your family hanging next to the stairs. "You have a lot of siblings.", Eddie commented while taking a look. Since this was a pretty normal reaction, you giggled a bit. "I have 11 siblings, and mum is having number 12 soon." He actually stopped in his tracks. In some way, he assumed there were a few uncles and aunts in the family pictures. Those were all your siblings?! And you saw his surprised face, so you took a picture down and sat on the stairs with him. It was one you took at your youngest brothers baptism last year. "So the baby is Isaiah. He's a bit over a year old right now." And that's how he learned all your siblings names, ages and that three of your eldest brothers and sisters stayed in Arkansas which he also now knew you were originally from. "Oh, I'm sorry, I tend to be a chatterbox. I didn't ask, do you have siblings?" He barely recovered from the infodumping, which made him fumble over his words a bit until he found then again. "No, I'm an only-child.", he mumbled while scratching his neck in embarrassment. "I live with my uncle." To you, that was fascinating. You never heard about that. "Is it nice?", you kept asking curiously. He huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, Wayne is cool.", he simply said. It didn't seem like he wanted to talk about his family much, so you let it be. "I'll show you my room!", you said excitedly while getting up. He was infatuated by how excited you were about everything. How can a person be this happy all the time? And why did it make him happy to simply be in your presence, aside from your beauty?

Your room was very prim and proper. What stood out were the multiple crosses in various sizes, styles and colours hanging above your bed. "You're very religious, aren't you?", he joked. "Can you tell?", you giggled. He had another look around and saw your overstuffed bookshelf. "That are the books I told you about." With ease, you pulled out three books. "We'll need those later.", you mumbled while putting them on your desk. "Oh, I'm assuming we'll do the project in the dining room because I can't have boys in my room for too long." He may have judged a bit with any other girl, but when you said it, it was adorable. When you looked over at him, there was this dreamy look on his face. Eddie looked...really cute like this. It made your stomach feel a bit tingly.

"Dinner's ready!", you two heard from downstairs. That snapped you out of your funny feeling, and you walked downstairs with Eddie. He could smell the food already, and honestly didn't know how hungry he was until that moment. And then, his stomach audibly grumbled once you two sat down next to each other. All of your siblings living in the house either came running along or were carried by another family member to be put in their high chair. He noticed that your father wasn't there, but he might just be caught up at work. Although he was still glad he picked an AD/DC shirt, since your mother was just as Christian.

Overall, it was unusual to Eddie, from the harmony going on to the sheer amount of people in this house. It really didn't look that big on the outside, where were all these rooms?

"We pray before we eat.", you whispered to him while taking his hand and that of your sibling sitting on your right. Even though it was just for praying, he loved holding your hand. And then it happened; his crush on you was settled.

Eddie couldn't stop thinking about that day. You were so sweet to him, although you had every reason to be mean like the basketball guys. And now, whenever you walked into class, you gave him a wide smile. Except today, where you walked up to him. "Hey, do you wanna eat lunch together? My mum packed me some extra." He loved the food your mother cooked last time, how could he say no?

You two sat at a table, seperate from both your usual peer groups. "Some Mac n' Cheese and home-made bread with home-made butter.", you said with your signature smile while sliding the two plastic containers over to him. "Does she always cook from scratch?", he asked while opening the food. You nodded as you picked up a fork-full of mac n' cheese. "Pretty much. I don't really remember not seeing her do it herself, except when I got a new sibling. Then the oldest usually orders takeout, so our parents don't know." The way you giggled as this, like it was the worst thing you could think of doing behind your parents back, was adorable. You're so innocent and pure, the complete opposite of him. "So you get to order takeout with this baby?", he asked after swallowing a bite from the bread and butter. Again, you giggled and squealed a bit. "I do! I'm so excited!" Eddie couldn't help but laugh at your adorable antics. "I'm going to get pizza for everyone, I love pizza." Honestly, he'd get this excited over pizza, too. All this excitement made you a bit irrational - you've been thinking a lot about why being with Eddie made your stomach tingle. It just didn't make sense, what would make you feel so funny? "Do you maybe wanna come over for dinner again? Even without the project?"

"I would like that.", he replied. "Promise I put on my most Christian clothes." You looked down at the shirt he was wearing, which read 'Black Sabbath' in bold letters. "Yeah, my dad might think it's a bit...controversial.", you agreed. It still surprised him that it didn't bother you enough to a point where you'd eat lunch with him. "Maybe tomorrow? If that's fine with you."

It was more than fine with him. He may even had a little skip in his step when he walked up to your house the next night. It was a bit more chaotic this time, with some toys laying in the front yard. Your father opened the door for him this time, but he gave you just as much of an inviting smile as your mother did last time. "You must be Munson's kid.", he said while making space for him in the doorway. How did he know him? "I am, sir.", Eddie replied before stepping in. It didn't take long for him to hear squealing kids and laughter from every corner. "(Y/N) is in the living room, I assume you know the way."

The second he turned the corner, Eddie saw you with a child on your hip. You looked beautiful like this. "Hi Eddie!", you said in a happy tone. "Look Isaiah, Eddie's back!" Against his expectations, the toddler grinned when he saw him. "I'm glad you're here. Mum's not feeling well, so dad is making dinner tonight and I'm helping with the young ones. I hope you don't mind." He shook his head no before looking around and seeing all the toys laying around. "I don't mind kids.", he stated while you two sat down on the couch. At least he wanted to, until a loud "BAA!" came from underneath his butt. Eddie jumped up to see the stuffed lamb he accidentally sat down on. Both you and your brother giggled. "Sorry, that's Isaiahs.", you giggled while taking it away. Reluctantly, he sat back down on the couch while watching you tickle your brothers nose with the lamb. It was adorable to witness.

"What's with Christians and lambs?", he blurted out. He saw so many lambs in your house and whenever he drove by church. Especially during Easter time. But that question made you happy, you loved talking about your religion!

"John the Baptist called him the lamb of God, because he came down to die for our sins. Kinda like a sacrificial offering." Eddie didn't even know who John the Baptist was, but he was just happy to see you talk in such a chirpy tone. He was quickly pulled out of his thoughts my your siblings running downstairs while screaming.

"Hey, turn it down! Mum is sleeping!", you scolded the three kids. Even while telling them off, your voice remained soft. "I wanna see mommy!", the girl said with a pout. "I know Hannah, but she's exhausted from growing another baby.", you explained to her. She waddled over and sat down next to Eddie with a curious look. "You're back.", she said with big doe eyes looking up at him. "Why do you have hair like a girl? Do you wanna be a girl?" Her tiny hands reached out to touch his hair, but you leaned over to scold her again. "Hannah, we don't judge people. That makes God unhappy." Now he knew why you haven't judged him once. "We talked about this."

Hannah grumbled and crossed her arms before her chest before walking off with a huff.

"She's quite the character.", Eddie chuckled. Honestly, he loved getting to know your family better. There wasn't much chance for it last time. "I love her to pieces, but she's in an exhausting phase right now." At least Isaiah was contempt in your arms with his stuffed animal. "Makes me question if I actually want that many kids, honestly."

"Do you want that many?", Eddie asked, a bit shocked. You giggled at his surprised expression. "Not 13. Maybe 5 or 6." That was still a lot, although less than half of what your mother went through. "Do you wanna have kids?" He sighted and leaned back against the couch. "I don't know...maybe. I don't have much experience with babies." You bit the inside of your cheek while watching him. Why did his eyes show some sort of fear. "Here, hold him.", you said. Eddie couldn't even protest before you plopped your baby brother into his arms. "That's your experience, congratulations." Isaiah looked up at Eddie and cooed before leaning against his chest. It was adorable, honestly. "How does it feel?" Instinctively, he started stroking your little brothers head with one hand while the other one was on his back to avoid an accident. "You're witty.", he said with a grin. "It's not so bad."

"Even a Hannah has her good moments.", you said. "I'm not trying to convince you or anything, but I'm just saying that kids can be a blessing." Did you actually try not to convince him? Why was it so important to you that he wanted kids? And why did you feel so warm inside when you saw Eddie with your little brother?

While you were starring at the floor while stuck in your head, he got to see that beautiful expression on you. With your eyebrows a bit knitted and part of your tongue sticking out while thinking. Did you always do that? Did he just never notice before? How adorable.

"Dinner's ready!", your father yelled from the dining room. Eddie got up with you, brother in arm, and walked right behind you.

"That's not what I usually listen to.", Eddie said in a chuckled tone while looking through your vinyl collection. It mostly consisted of Keith Green, Petra and 2nd Chapter of Acts. "What do you listen to?", you asked curiously while standing behind him. From his shirts, you knew a bit but not everything. He turned around to face you, and accidentally very closely so. Did he always smell this good? Did you always look this cute?

"Oh, uhm...", he started stuttering. "Like, uh...Metallica, for example. Or Iron Maiden, and Aerosmith." You listened, and looked fascinated while doing so. Considering your family and what he saw in your music collection, this probably felt like discovering a whole new universe. "Can you show me some time?", you asked in a sing-song voice. He let out a small laugh and scratched his neck. "Sure, uhm...maybe after school tomorrow? I can drive you home if you want." You nodded in agreement. "That sounds lovely, Eddie."

You couldn't sleep that night. All that was running through your head was Eddie driving you home. Why did it feel so exciting? Why did he feel so exciting? No amount of tossing and turning, praying or reading your bible helped making you sleepy.

You groaned into your pillow and got up again to find anything to do. But your room was clean, you couldn't even concentrate on a simple prayer and you finished your homework.

The slippers helped with quieting your steps while sneaking downstairs. Maybe some warm milk and honey would help. Although your mother standing in the middle of the kitchen scared you a bit and made you yelp out. "I'm sorry, honey.", she quickly apologised. "Why are you up?"

"Why are you up?", you asked back. It wasn't until then that you saw the plate of leftovers on the kitchen counter. "Growing a baby makes a woman hungry at the oddest times, honey." You giggled a bit before walking to the fridge and getting out milk. "I can't sleep, my head won't stop thinking." She leaned against the kitchen counter with the plate in her hands. That was your mother - she knew something new was rattling in your brain. "Thinking about what? Or who?" She hit a bulls eye with the who. While putting a cup of milk in the microwave, you started telling her all about your thoughts. That ever since Eddie offered to drive you home, you couldn't stop thinking about him. How you noticed that he smelled nice, and you wanted to get to know more about him for no apparent reason. That you thought the curiosity you felt wasn't about that he lived much differently than you, but more about him as a person. Once you were done with your talking and finished your milk with honey, she couldn't help but chuckle.

"I felt that way about a boy too when I was your age.", she said with a half-full mouth of food. That made you peak up in interest. "What did you do?"

"I'm currently having his 13th baby."

Were you in love? It would explain why you didn't know this feeling yet. With being at church your entire childhood and having only girl-friends, it made sense. "It's called having a crush, honey. It was ought to happen to you, and it's nothing bad. It can be really nice, actually." It didn't feel much nice when you couldn't sleep, but it felt good when your stomach tingled. "Is it like love?", you asked curiously. Your mother chewed on her noddles while thinking. "Not necessarily. But it can turn into love." With a hum, you started drinking your milk and thinking about her words.

"I saw the way he looks at you, honey. Try to find a good moment to tell him. You might regret it if it's to late." She kissed you on your forehead and smiled. "Go to bed, pray about it, find your inner strength. You have a lot of it."

"I don't think dad would like him very much...in the long run.", you confessed. Eddie was not who your father wanted for you. If it all went according to him, you'd marry someone from your church, who would listen to Keith Green with you while doing puzzles. A nice Christian boy. But you doubted that Eddie was even baptised. "Let me handle your father. I know a few tricks."

"That's so loud!", you squeaked while Eddie drove out of the parking lot. Currently, Iron Maiden was booming out of his speaker as he drove you home. "A good loud?", he asked with a grin. It was adorable whenever you were excited. "Yes, a good loud!" You were practical bouncing in your seat to the music. "I didn't think I'd like that!" It hit every part in your brain just right to satisfy you. You knew you couldn't listen to this at home, and maybe the lyrics weren't exactly biblical, but it tingled in your brain just right.

Meanwhile, Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye. Your bouncing, your giggling, the wide grin, yoir squealing. Everything about it was adorable. You were adorable. Who knew someone could look this adorable while listening to music about slaughtering humans?

"If you like this, you're really gonna like Metallica.", he said with a chuckle.

"It gets better?!"

Eventually, Eddie parked in your driveway and turned off the music. While picking up your bag from the foot well, you saw a magazine laying there. "What's that?", you asked. The first thing you saw was the word 'Satanic' in bold, red letters, then that it was a Newsweekly. You picked it up from the ground and skipped over the pages to find the article advertised on the cover. "Oh, that..." This might be the moment he fucks this all up. You enjoying being around him, your cute giggles and adorable grin. "We read it in our club...it's kinda..."

"Dungeons and Dragons?", you asked, bit confused. The article explained that it was a satanic game, made to infiltrate American kids and how it depicted satanic rituals, the devil, torture and murder. It took you a while, but you eventually put two and two together. "Is that what you do in your club?" There was some upset in your voice, but it was more of a sad one.

Is this really the person you had a crush on? This is what he spends his free time with?

"Well, yes.", he said while scratching the back of his neck out of nervousness. "But it's really not as satanic, or whatever, as it sounds there." Eddie still saw your confused look and furrowed brows that read disappointment. You took a deep breath in and closed the magazine. "It just sounds...scary to me." He did understand that. You were shielded from most those things, at least that's what it sounded like from what you told him about your childhood.

"Maybe, if you want to, you can tag along to a game?", he suggested. Your head shot up at that, causing you to look at him like a deer in headlights. Eddie could see how unsure you were just by looking into your eyes. Naturally, it scared you. Once you read the wors 'Satanic', it was ought to scare you off. Your dad was a pastor, after all. Meanwhile, he also remembered what you told your younger sister: "We don't judge people, that makes God unhappy.". That wad basically what he held on to right now.

"Maybe you can change my mind.", you said with a small smile. After all, you had a crush on him. Why shouldn't he able to show you what he enjoyed? "I could tag along next time your club me-" You got cut off by your own words. How would you explain it to your parents? Should you...lie? But that's not allowed, isn't it?

Meanwhile, Eddie was confused by your sudden quietness. He understood what you were going for, but it didn't seem like you wanted to finish your sentence.

"I would like to have you at the next campaigns.", Eddie said with a small smile. You nodded quietly and finally grabbed your bag. "I'll ask if I can.", you mumbled. Honest to God, you were still unsure about this. "I'll tell you tomorrow, yeah?" A small smile played on Eddie's lips at your words. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Thanks for taking me. And showing me your music." Regardless of everything he just told you, you still smiled at him before leaving the van.

You did make a decision, and told a small lie to your parents. Or at least not the entire truth. They thought you stayed longer at school so you could see what Eddie's club was up to, but left out the details of the exact game. When they questioned you, you just told them they'd he playing a board game.

So there you were, sitting between Eddie and Gareth while watching what the group (or how Eddie said they call it, Party) was doing. The story went that they, or their characters, were in a town called Saltmarsh and had to find out the secret of an abandoned house. For the first 30 minutes, you quietly watched and listened. Until they all got on a boat and Eddie started talking about the monsters appearing. He set down a figurine on the board, but that one simply confused you. Especially with everyone else being upset by seeing it.

"Whats that?", you asked curiously with knitted brows. "That's a dragon turtle", Gareth said, like it was obvious to you. It was, in fact, not. "Dragon...turtle?" Does it spit underwater fire? Where are it's wings? "A really big turtle.", Eddie said, knowing it was the easiest way for you to understand. "Oooh.", you said quietly. Now you see it. Everyone around the table laughed, until Eddie said their ship was wrecked by said Dragonturtle. That's when the laughter died down, and rather quickly at that.

It got even worse when Sirens appeared. You only knew about mermaids, so the concept of Sirens confused you a bit. But you understood the idea rather quickly.

And unfortunately for Gareth, his character got lured in by them. "Why me?!", he yelled in an upset tone while looking absolutely lost. "That's what lust gets you.", you commented, which made Eddie burst out laughing. You didn't know that he had Gareths character be lured in because he was actually the biggest horndog of the entire group, which made your words even funnier.

For whatever reason, your questions and absent-minded comments made the entire campaigns funnier for everyone. It showed Eddie that you actually enjoyed DnD, even though he saw you clutching your cross necklace every one in a while. Later in the car, you were grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Someone had fun.", he said while buckling his seatbelt. "That was so much fun!", you squealed. "I could've watched even longer! That was not what I was expecting!"

Your expression was adorable. He could kiss your pretty face just from looking at you like this. "Maybe we can find a campaign you'd like.", he suggested. That made your face light up even more. "You'd do that for me?"

Eddie would do just about anything for you at this point. He had to face that his crush was growing into falling in love. How could he not?

"Sure, if you want.", he started the car and drove to your house. His plan was to make a campaign just for you and have everyone tag along, but you didn't need to know that yet.

You kept going on and on about how much fun you had, and that you didn't understand the article from Newsweekly. But your words abruptly stopped when you saw your dad's car missing in the driveway. "What's wrong?", Eddie asked you. You've seen this scenario many times before, at this point it could only mean one thing if both cars were gone by this time. Plus, you knew he didn't work late today. "Mom's having the baby.", you mumbled. He couldn't bring anything out but an "Oh."

"It's fine. I'll get in and see how the kids are." You smiled at him while opening the passenger door. "See you tomorrow! Thank you for today!"

But he didn't see you tomorrow. You didn't come to school, or the day after. Maybe something happened with your mother? Eddie decided to drive over to your place after his second period. When you opened the door, you looked beyond stressed. Hair in a messy ponytail, baggy clothes and worn-out slippers. "Oh thank God, Eddie.", you groaned in relief. "Can you help me, please?"

He came inside to see a mess in the living room. Toys scattered everywhere, snack packaging on the floor and crumbs on every surface humanly possible. Your two youngest brothers was quietly playing in his playpen, but that was the only thing that seemed to calm you. "What's going on?", he asked in a concerned tone. Your house was always clean, or at least only a bit lived-in, when he was over. Never like this. "I have to do this all by myself, I can't do it." You were so close to tears, holding them back barely worked. "It was so easy in Arkansas, we had my aunts and uncles to help." Instinctively, he pulled you into a hug. You didn't mind it at all, it was just what you needed right now. Some tears rolled down your cheek and into his shirt. Eddie felt the wet spot on his top, but he didn't mind. Not when you were so worn-out. "It's gonna be alright, I'll help you.", he promised while still holding onto you.

"Thank you.", you sniffled while whiping your eyes with the back of your hands.

While picking up some of the toys, you told him what you have to do today. "I have to pick up three of them from middle school, one from high school and three from elementary. Then, three of the girls have cheerleading and two of the boys have softball. Sara wants to go to the arcade with some friends as well, and...oh, I need groceries." Your hand ran over your hair. Eddie put the books in his hand back in the bookshelf and walked over to you. "You pick up the kids from elementary, I'll pick them up from middle- and highschool. But we still have some time, so let's clean and get groceries. Okay?" How was he so level-headed right now? To be fair, he hasn't been stuck like this for over a day. It was all growing over your head.

"I'll get the boys ready.", you said. "I'll help.", he replied. It wasn't an offer, it was a decision. Jonah was walking already and wandered into the hallway with Eddie, while you put Isaiah in his overall on the couch.

You four got the grocery shopping done in no time. There was honestly something about watching Eddie with your brothers in the cart, pushing them through the isles with you. You never understood what your friends meant when they said a boy did something attractive until that very moment. It stunned you, so much so that you were just kinda starring at him when he asked you what kind of milk you needed.

"(Y/N)?", he asked. Yet you kept starring. "You okay?"

"I have a crush on you.", you blurted out. While he looked at you with a lightly shocked face, you covered your mouth with your hand. "I-I...", you stuttered, not knowing how to come back from that. Eddie's expression went from shocked to soft, with a smile playing on his lips. "I have a crush on you, too.", he said. Butterflies were flying around in both your stomach, and there was some kind of electric tension between you two. Should you kiss him? Can you kiss him?

"Sissy, choco milk?", Jonah interrupted the moment. It made the two of you look over at him. His small, chubby arm was pointing at a bottle of chocolate milk. "You have to share, okay Jonah?", you said to him while putting it in the cart. "Can we talk about this again later?", Eddie asked you. Both of you were aware that the middle of a grocery store was possibly the worst time and place. "Sure.", you replied with a small smile. Since both of you liked each other, you were hoping for a good outcome. And so was he.

Once everyone was back home from their after-school activity, you put pizza as dinner on the table and did the dishes with Eddie, you both crashed on the couch. Jonah and Isaiah were playing on the floor while the others either went to do their homework or play together.

"Thank you, Eddie. Really, I wouldn't know what I would do without you." His hand found yours and squeezed it. "I'd do anything for you...because I like you a lot." It all circled back to that moment at the grocery store from earlier. Just him holding your hand made you wanna giggle. "So, when I like you too...should we be...a couple?", you stuttered. As he was about to reply, the phone rang.

"Biscuits.", you mumbled in a frustrated tone while getting up. It was your father calling from the hospital, telling you your mother had a little girl they named Bethel. Finally, another girl. "I'll be home tonight, your mother had a long labour and needs to rest." Of course she did, she'd been gone for almost two days. "Okay, I'll see you then...oh, dad?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Can I...kiss before marriage?" There was some silence on the other line before he cleared his throat and talked. "It's okay as long as it doesn't lead to...more. Why?" How would you explain that one.

"Just wondering.", you lied. You lied?! "Bye dad, love you. Tell mom we miss her."

Eddie's head peaked up when he saw you walking back around the corner. "What was it?", he asked. You sat back down next to him and got comfortable. "Dad called, mom had the baby. Her names Bethel." He smiled at that. "That's nice, (Y/N)." Neither of you could believe that your talk kept getting interrupted.

"I would like to be your boyfriend.", he finally said. A grin spread on your face and a squeal left your mouth. "I want you to be my boyfriend!" He laughed at your excitement while letting you jump into his arms. "I'm the happiest girlfriend ever!" One of his hands pet your upper back while the other stroked your hair.

Eddie couldn't remember the last time he was this happy.

"Honey, does it have to be Eddie?", your father asked. A few days after your mother came back from the hospital with baby Bethel, you decided to tell them. "It's already Eddie, dad.", you said confidently. Luckily, your mother was on your side. She liked him, she saw how happy you were and knew he helped out while they were gone. "I just really hoped you'd find a Christian man.", he explained. "It's gonna be hard for him to adjust."

"He selflessly helped her while we weren't here, he has the right values.", your mom spoke up. "She's happy. Remember how I was when we met?" Admittedly, you didn't know much about her youth. She barely talked about it. But it seemed like that argument made your father quiet down quickly. "He's on probation." was his final word before walking off.

"We won that one.", your mother said with a grin while giving you a fistbump.

You two had a beautiful couple of weeks so far. Eddie made a campaign about a crusade just for you, he introduced you to Wayne and even came to church with you once so far. He seriously thought just hanging out with him made you happy, but you wouldn't stop smiling and laughing after the service. How could you get even cuter?

Your father came around eventually. He told you to invite him as often as possible and started treating him like his own son. The moment Eddie held your sister Bethel for the first time was the moment you knew he was the one for you. You knew you wanted to see him like this, but with your own child.

Finally, you could convince your parents to let him sleep over. Of course they had conditions; no making out, leave the door open, no touching below the hips. It was understandable to you, Eddie needed a bit of time to understand. In the end, he was just happy to kiss and cuddle you all night. So after dinner, you two went upstairs to watch a movie in your room.

He spooned you while looking at the screen, on which E.T. played. Although neither of you really cared much about the movie when you finally got to be so close together for the very first time. Eddie couldn't stop playing with your hair, kissing your lips, holding you close. You're all he ever wanted. But with all this kissing and cuddling, you remember that you had to have a talk with him.

"Eddie.", you said in a hushed tone. His head peaked up from behind you in curiosity. "Hmm?", he mumbled. "I know you might expect some...things.", you started. "But I don't think I'd want that before marriage." Your boyfriend knew what you meant. "Are you sure?", he asked. Honestly, he was nervous about his first time with you. It wouldn't be the first time he had sex with someone, but this was different. This was you. The person he was set on spending the rest of his life with. Maybe having to wait for a while wasn't a bad decision. "I don't know.", you whispered that part, since your door was still open. "Probably. Very likely." His response was a kiss to the back of your head. Although he might bring it up again in a few months; he was glad he didn't have to be nervous about that for now. "That's okay, my little lamb.", he mumbled. "But we can still kiss, no?"

You rolled over to face him with a small smile on your lips. "We can kiss, we can cuddle, most things that don't involve...that."

"You mean sex?", he teased you with a grin. "Edward Munson!", you scolded him with a playful slap to his shoulder. "My parents can hear you.". Your boyfriend couldn't help but still giggle at your blushed face with that tone in your voice. "Sorry, honey.", he apologised while kissing your temple. "But it's cute when you get flustered."

"You said I get flustered at everything.", you giggled. His fingers ran over your waist, tickling you a bit in the process. "Because you do, my little lamb."

"I don't!", you argued back. His fingers dug into your waist, making you squeam and giggle. "Eddie!", you laughed out while he kept tickling you. "Eddie, you're mean!" Your boyfriend eventually stopped tickling you and pulled you back into a hug. "Yes you do, that alone made you flush."

"Because I was laughing.", you said with a small pout. It was adorable to look at. "Sure, honey.", he chuckled before kissing you again. "I love you."

You starred at him for a bit. This was the first time he said that to you; and it felt even better than you ever imagined. "I love you, too." One of his fingers stroked along your cheek while he smiled down at you and looked at your lips. "Good."

Your graduation passed, your one-year anniversary passed, and another one of your siblings was born. Was your mother ever done having kids?

A few days before Valentines day, Eddie came to visit your parents while you were at work in the church.

"What's going on?", your mother asked him while sitting down at the dinner table with him and your father.

"Well, me and (Y/N) have been together for a while now, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her." This wasn't the first time your parents had this kind of talk; it already happened with your older sisters husband a few years ago. "And I wanted to ask for your permission to propose to her."

Both of them started smiling at his words, your mother more than your father. "You have our permission to propose.", he said to Eddie. "But, we want her to marry in the church. You would have to get baptised for that. That's my only condition."

To Eddie, that sounded more than fair. He'd do anything to be with you for the rest of his life. "Alright, I'll get baptised before the wedding."

Three days later, the both of you were out on a date. Eddie was never one to take you to restaurants, but rather to fun places like aquariums or carnivals. That was more his setting, and you were okay with that. So for Valentines Day, he took you to an aquarium. Watching you mesmerised by the fishes, giggling while getting to pet a stingray and squealing when a shark swam over your head was about the most beautiful thing he could watch. Eddie was head over heels in love with you and never wanted that to change. So while you were watching a shoal of sweepers swim by, he took a small step back, pulled out the little velvet box and got down on one knee. "Eddie look, a clownfish!", you said excitedly while looking beside you. Why wasn't he there. With a bit of confusion, you turned to look for him, only to see him kneeling. "Eddie...", you whispered, close to tears.

Unfortunately, he couldn't find his words. His nerves got the best of him, and all he could so is look at you and open the box. You knew him well enough, and kneeled down to his level. "Yes, Eddie. I'll marry you.", you whispered, now crying. With a shaky hand, he placed the small diamond ring on your finger before kissing you. Both of you were so happy right now, so much so that you didn't notice that other visitors of the aquarium watched and started clapping.

This day was one of the best days of your life.

When you sat in the pew a few weeks later and got to watch Eddie being baptised by your father, that came close to the proposal. He was doing this for you. That's how special you were to him - all so he could marry you. So he could spend the rest of his life with you. It made your heart swell, and you were the first to clap once the water was sprinkled on his forehead.

Eddie loved you so much, you couldn't believe all he was doing just for you.

"Honey, before we order the dress, I gotta ask you." Your mother turned the corner of your parents living room, where you both were sitting to plan your wedding. Once you two were officially married, you'd move into a small apartment of your own to spend actual alone-time in.

"Do you want special underwear for your wedding? We can order it with the dress, it makes shipping cheaper." To you, that sounded good and you stood up to look through the catalog. But Eddie realized something in that very minute.

He meant to ask you about having sex before marriage a year ago. He never build up the courage because he was too nervous to do bad.

Eddie accidentally waited for you until marriage.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine

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mariacallous · 2 days ago

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When Vance took the stage in Munich, most people were expecting him to hold forth on the topics that had animated the huddles and discussions around the venue leading up to his speech: European defense spending and the fate of Ukraine.

But those subjects only got a passing sentence each. Instead, Vance spent the bulk of his 20 minutes on stage criticizing what he characterized as a European retreat from the West’s “shared democratic values” driven by excessive censorship of free speech.

“The Cold War positioned defenders of democracy against much more tyrannical forces on this continent. Consider the side in that fight that censored dissidents, that closed churches, that canceled elections—were they the good guys? Certainly not, and thank God they lost,” Vance said.

“Unfortunately, when I look at Europe today, it’s sometimes not so clear what happened to some of the Cold War’s winners,” he added, before rattling off a list of examples aimed at illustrating his point: European Union officials’ threats to shut down social media “the moment they spot what they’ve judged to be ‘hateful’ content,” Germany’s raids on people posting misogynistic speech online, Sweden’s jailing of an activist who burned the Quran in public, and “safe access zones” around abortion clinics established in the United Kingdom.

For Europeans and others watching, Vance had a MAGA message: “In Washington, there is a new sheriff in town, and under [U.S. President] Donald Trump’s leadership, we may disagree with your views, but we will fight to defend your right to offer it in the public square,” he said, to scattered and hesitant applause—one of the few times he got any.

“Utterly, utterly frightening.” Several times in his speech, Vance singled out Romania, which late last year annulled its elections due to alleged Russian interference uncovered by Romania’s security services and is scheduled to hold them again. “You can believe it’s wrong for Russia to buy social media advertisements to influence your elections—we certainly do—you can condemn it on the world stage, even. But if your democracy can be destroyed with a few hundred thousand dollars of digital advertising from a foreign country, then it wasn’t very strong to begin with,” he said.

The U.S. vice president also spoke at length about the alleged threat posed by immigration, a major right-wing talking point on both sides of the Atlantic that he described as the most “urgent” challenge the nations represented in Munich face. “In England, they voted for Brexit—agree or disagree, they voted for it,” he said. “And more and more all over Europe, they’re voting for political leaders who promise to put an end to out-of-control migration.”

Most of the speech was met with stunned silence. “Gobsmacked” was a word used repeatedly in the aftermath, and SitRep overheard one attendee walking out of the Bayerischer Hof describe the speech as “utterly, utterly frightening.”

One senior European official, who spoke to SitRep on the condition of anonymity, said Vance “did something whilst being in Germany that Germans are pretty good at: Teaching lessons to others.”

Another official had far stronger words. “It was total bullshit. We don’t know what planet he is on,” the official said. “At least when we met Keith Kellogg, we could talk geopolitics,” they added, referring to Trump’s special envoy for Russia and Ukraine. “With Vance, we can’t even agree what a democracy is.”

Whither Europe? While Vance told Europe early on in his speech that “we are on the same team,” the more lasting impression appears to have been left by his final words: “Good luck to all of you, God bless you.”

Conversations we’ve been having with European officials in Munich over the last two days have betrayed deep concerns about the United States’ status as a reliable partner, even amid a recognition that Europe must do more for its own defense. “A stronger Europe works with the United States to deter the threats we have in common as partners, and this is why we believe that trade wars and punitive tariffs make no sense,” European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen said onstage to loud applause earlier in the day, a veiled swipe at Trump’s Thursday move to slap reciprocal tariffs on all U.S. trading partners.

Vance, who took the stage right after her, didn’t mention trade at all. But his speech drove home a key message for former Lithuanian Foreign Minister Gabrielius Landsbergis. “If that wasn’t a wake-up call for Europe, I don’t know what is,” Landsbergis told Foreign Policy. “We have to get our act together and figure out how to manage our problems on our own.”

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vivianbernadetteaurora · 2 days ago

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VIRGO MERCURY ♍️📫✨️

Virgo mercury.

and why it is domicile.

. and the people who have this placement who are famous.. Whitney Houston. Being one of the most powerful people with the voice of that and Amy Winehouse and Freddie Mercury. open people who have this placement. I literally just wrote all of this and it took me ages and I keep losing it. Where I live at the moment has really bad signal..,, so this can show you a placement and part of it because Virgo rules talking our intellect our thoughts our voice how our voice sounds, what we With that what we talk about. how we go How we get our point across.I’m going to show you. How this can be. The strongest placement at all. The strongest placement in a darker side of it. Like for this is coming from personal experience being a Virgo mercury. For instance I love it that Freddie Mercury is called Freddie Mercury because he is Virgo mercury and a Virgo sun .Own rule. Prince Harry, who literally comes from the royal family who written about talked about everything. have had TV shows. around them documentaries. probably millions. Around the world.. he’s had his words changed against him because of his narrative with his wife. Who I believe might B a a narcissist . so you can see how it can come from another person all of these great singers who shared their words with us and live on in our memory and our cultural research have this placement, OK Amy Winehouse even the way how at the Grammy she’s like making fun of Justin timberlake’s album this can also make your voice be quite unique. It grows a player in another way like and I’m thinking of skins when Effie in the first series doesn’t talk at all I literally would be mute at school and talkative at home this is being somebody who only got diagnosed as autistic in the last three years. because when you're on that borderline of normal and unusual. putting it nicely for once. Because when I was growing up you still didn’t really talk about mental health like it was there but it wasn’t how it is now it wasn’t a thing that was talked about so for a lot of millennials it’s like a whole new learning process like our whole culture has been taken away from us in a way. We live in an opposite world.

Freddie Mercury a gay man he literally only told the press the day before he died that he had the virus and was seriously ill he knew it was gonna come out in a matter of time. And didn’t know how he’d feel about that probably and all the headlines that would be written.

And this is how it comes across through other people’s words you could literally have your reputation tarnished like it’s a strong placement whenever there’s a detriment full domicile or exaltation in a chart that is going to be very strong in this person's life. Like words are gonna be a thing.. like for me I feel like it went the opposite way like I obsess over because Virgo knows that what people expect it may be a mutable sign but it’s very astute that’s why I said that Virgo moons., I don’t understand why it’s not a detriment or full placement really because. It’s very cruel and it can roam over grooming, and also I believe self harm I mean look at Amy Winehouse when she did that magazine cover and that photo shoot with that photographer I do not like anything it’s quite disgusting Terry Richardson where she’s literally carving her partner’s name into her body that is heavy Britney Spears when she shaved her hair and whacked that paparazzi’s car and myself people might be really heavy drug users there’s also going to be a theme possibly around their weight and their size sometimes from Jacob binges sometimes from the opposite withdrawal I remember with Whitney Houston at the Michael Jackson tribute concert where they both weren’t very well she came on the stage and I remember my dad saying that she looked good but apparently they had to digitally alter her weight so I dread to imagine if that is true and what she really looked like because she was tiny like these people are aware of things that are young age and that can see through people’s bullshit.

They can get turned on by being degradated or humiliated that even,. I truly believe that with Virgo because they are not. Happy with who they are and that is why they strive to perfection they’re just this psychic as pisces

it's just in a different kind of way. Is more in a viable way rather than feeling but you can definitely feel an energy they can feel the energy they can feel the room they can read a room in both sense of the word of reading a room and reading a person down like Wendy Williams on her infamous interview.and all these people have had, shows documentaries series about them, so just words just think words intellect is gonna be a big theme in their life. Whether other people say it or not you can read it on a variety of anxious energy. An urgency they do not like being alone for a long even the quieter ones. I think of Amy Winehouse and Freddie Mercury with their iconic voices uneven iconic look.

that many girls across the nation copied that Amy Winehouse thick eyeliner and beehive hair. she wanted to be like all the girl groups that had come before in the 60s and this will be a massive thing in their life music will literally live music it will be like a drug to them and they won’t be able to let other people have any control play music. Like with Whitney Houston and she has that strong leo’s sun sign. I know because I am one myself with a Virgo mercury.. but she also has that Aries band and on the Diane Sawyer interview they’re like is it is it booze, is it pills, is it drugs what is it what’s the devil and she’s like I don’t know do you know Diane.. no you don’t and she read Wendy down exactly the same.. but she could also be incredibly charming. but she obviously had some,. Why you’re being manipulated by Bobby Brown to some degree even though I don’t think Bobby is completely to blame we literally watched her lose her voice that’s, how powerful These person is and her child really young two years old.

Look you see how that can play out in such a dark way like Freddie Mercury got that disease aids and HIV I don’t really like to talk about this but he obviously got from like 6:00 with men who’s up literally has been publicly I guess humiliated and he knew this he knew that the world would see it like that so celebrities do tell the press things that they know are gonna get out even things that probably wouldn't get out. They know and he probably knew the ship it would make him feel and the pain the headlines like his secret would be out in a way yeah well it was his secret and it was his choice. I find it rather ironically I find the press kind of disgusting even as someone who’s into celebrity culture like watching Britney Spears like in real time shave her head get that tattoo and click see how mercuries and Sagittarius that’s detriment and I love her for what she did but even in 2007 we didn’t know about mental health it wasn’t really spoken about it was something that was but we didn’t know ohh it was I feel that’s how I remember it But it was painful to watch OK felt away about that Wow what’s going on I feel like Virgo could rule self harm as well the elevator is self harm they do they really really do like I just said about Britney Spears and she got 5150 didn’t she in 2007 if you remember Amy when she did that photo shoot was that sick photographer who I hate Terry Richardson. She’s literally cutting her partner’s name into her body like they like that they they do what is it being I’m not too sure or me for instance like myself on every day by injecting drugs into my body like the pain and those come from that my axe who is doing it all the time he has Venus conjunct Mars and Mars is more about pain and Venus is more about pleasure so when you mix the two together and create this tangible. Like we can really be into pain pain pain hi needles knives burning like I can think of all of them. I can also attribute this to having Venus conjunct chiron the wounded healer. being CHIRON the asteroid. and whatever sign it is is where you have the pain going on in your life. all the deepest pain.

Even Freddie Mercury having those extra teeth that allegedly made his voice sound so amazing and the fact that Live Aid.,. where he’s talking to the crowd and he’s doing like he’s vocal warm ups to the crowd that is something that you can’t forget that is something that is a cultural reset like I said with Amy Winehouse too I’m Whitney Houston who’s been known as the voice. that that comes through that part of that chart so strongly vividly. And how people have also wrote words about them out of their control or out of their reach or power .. or you can have it or you grow up in a household where you were lied to a lot and your own narrative and words were taken away from me or you were the one who has lied to you because of your reactions to things and your upset. Which can feel really painful like if you’re not feeling that love or that you’re being stimulated you will explain hi Joseph you might ********** with bravado like Russell Brand said Amy Winehouse stayed a bit like stubbing out cigarettes and chucking them around to impress him, i always related to that so much this is quite painful they will actually self harm with drugs and mutilate themselves ohh I am not being ridiculed to her my life and how I’ve had that happen to them his children and abuse can take any form like for me it was more isolation like if I feel like my relationship for the last six years it turned into my parents and it killed me it literally broke my spirit because I didn’t wanna be dysfunctional obese can be sexual, violent because corrosive was self-inflicted are you a danger to yourself or others and honestly I think it needs to be talked about more. I was saying to my boyfriend last night that crying up middle class you can often feel like this, This is why I love shameless so much and watch it every night over and over again because I love how they stick together on council estates. and run scams to make money. I loyal to each other borough and land.l borrow of Peter to Pay Paul.... I know it because it’s my lifestyle too even though I’m not from a counselor state I will come into that drug world where it’s heavy in that in a way in that world not always you get many different addicts. And not all of the same. We’re all different every one of us growing up in a family where addiction wasn’t a thing. Even if they say they understand they ******* don’t.

they treat you like their unwanted ginger stepchild, and if you wanted to save more physical affection,. They will starve you of it they believe you just want more and more when in fact it’s a ******* illness for ******** why not think of where it actually originated from so you could actually ******* do something about it. sorry but it makes me really angry. to the point of wanting to hurt myself.

#fypage #astro observations #astro placements #astro community #astrology #astrology observations #astro notes #astroblr

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luna-eclipse2000 · 3 days ago

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Your first Valentine’s Day with AOT boys + Hanji

Ft. Eren, Armin, Jean, Marco, Connie, Levi, Hanji

Notes: Connie’s is suggestive so MDNI, no pronouns used for reader

Eren

- He’s never been a fan of Valentine’s Day

- He just never saw the point

- But that’s not to say he hated the idea of buying a future partner some flowers and chocolates

- In fact, he would find himself day dreaming about seeing his partner smiling as they gaze upon the gifts he bought them

- And since he and Jean both got into relationships before Valentine’s Day, he knew he had to go above in beyond

- Not just because you deserve it, but because he wanted to stick it to that horse-faced bastard

You’re out with your friends for brunch, a Valentines tradition you’ve had for years because none of you had boyfriends before. All of you are taken now but that doesn’t stop you three from meeting up. Just as your food comes, your phone rings with Eren’s tone. “Sorry, give me a second.” You apologize before pulling out your phone to read the text.

Bird boy: Come to my place when you’re done with your friends. I got something to show you ;)

You know your friends will tease and press you to get more information just to see you get flustered, so you put your phone away and pretend it was nothing. But of course you’re now eager to get over to Eren’s place to see what he has in store.

Most people who send winking emoji’s mean it only to imply something sexual, but he does it to hint at something exciting. A surprise. Not to say he doesn’t mean it in the traditional sense, too. You’re also expecting him to do something big because of his rivalry with Jean.

However you’re not prepared for what you see when you walk into his apartment. There’s petals scattering the floor, unlit candles hang from the ceiling, pink and red ribbon hang along the top of the walls, an overly large teddy bear sits against the wall where the balcony is, and Eren stands in the centre of it all wearing a red velvet suit with black lining. “Eren Jaeger, what did you do?” You question with a smile, hands placed on your hips.

“Giving you the best damn Valentine’s Day you’ve ever had.” He answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He then walks up to you with a heart shaped box in his hand. “Chocolate?”

“I’ll never say no to Lindor.” You answer and take out one of the wrapped chocolates. “Do you like it?” Eren asks. “You certainly exceeded every expectation.” You tell him. “I was going to light the candles but Armin told me the flames would burn the fishing wire and start a fire.” Eren admits. “And while that is the perfect way to describe my love for you, I don’t think the building manager would get it. Or care.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder for a brief moment before looking at him again. “You can be so cheesy, you know that?”

“As long as you’re happy, I don’t care how cheesy I get.” He says before pressing his lips to yours. “Now go pose with the bear. I need to brag to Jean.”

Armin

- This boy does his homework when it comes to holidays

- He finds out what you like and what you don’t so everything will be perfect

- He writes a step-by-step plan for before, during, and after your first Valentine’s with him

- But when you meet him at the restaurant

- He forgets the entire plan

- Not a shred of it remains in his head

- And he becomes the shy, flustered, awkward Armin we all know and adore

You fiddle with your clothes as you walk up to the restaurant Armin suggested for Valentine’s. He had to take his grandfather to an appointment so he profusely apologized for not being able to pick you up himself, but promised thar he’d make up for it. This restaurant is usually pretty booked up in advance, especially for holidays, however he said he knew the owner so he and his friends get tables pretty much whenever they want.

“Hi there.” The hostess greets as you walk up to the stand. “Name for the reservation?”

“Uh, it should be under Armin Arlert.” You tell her. “I don’t think he’s here yet.”

“No, it doesn’t look like anyone’s been seated at your table.” She says after tapping on the tablet in front of her. “I can take you back now if you’d like, or you can wait for him up here.”

“I’ll wait for him, thank you.” You say and then stand off to the side. You look around at the restaurant since this is your first time stepping foot inside. It’s certainly very fancy and the food must cost a fortune. “They probably offer rich shit like calamari and the Grey Stuff from Beauty and the Beast.” You think to yourself.

The tables all have ivory tablecloths with gold details around the edges. You can even see a wine room closer to where the kitchen is. Each table has a rose in a vase in the centre of the table. Your gaze then falls onto all the couples in the dining room. Everyone is dressed to the nines, wearing obviously designer clothing and expensive jewelry. This causes you to feel a bit insecure and wonder if you should’ve dressed up a bit more.

Your clothing isn’t designer, but it still cost a pretty penny. You’re sure that if you bought your clothes with any of these people’s cards, they wouldn’t even notice the charge.

The bell rings behind you, signalling that someone has come in. You turn around and see Armin walk in carrying a bouquet of red, pink and white roses, and a red gift bag clutched in his right hand. “Armin.” You address your new boyfriend.

He turns to face you with a confident smile on his face but then he goes slightly slack jawed, a deep red blush spreading across his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. “I- Um- You- Uh, wow.” He clears his throat and looks away.

“Hey, are you ok?” You ask, reaching out and touching his cheek. “Yeah, you just… You look stunning.” He says, still not looking at you.

“Aw, thank you.” You say sweetly. “I was starting to think I stood out like a sore thumb.”

His head whips forward with what seems to be a mixture of confusion and fear in his eyes. “No! Not at all! You’re easily the best-looking here.” He then remembers the gifts in his hands. “Oh! These are for you.”

You chuckle at his awkwardness and take the items from him. “You’re so cute. You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I make things weird?” He asks nervously. “No, absolutely not.” You assure him. A look of relief washes over his still-red features. “I’m just saying it’s sweet that you wanted to spend your money on me.”

“Of course. It’s my job to spoil you.” He says, tucking his hands into his pockets. You’re extremely grateful that he even got you flowers let alone something that won’t die in a few weeks, but you start feeling guilty about not getting him anything. You didn’t think you were at the gift-giving stage yet.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get anything for you.” You apologize. “I don’t need anything, sweetie.” Armin tells you. “All I want is for you to have fun.”

You smile at him, feeling better but you’re still not 100% satisfied. So you take a step forward and press a soft kiss to his mouth. “Does that suffice?”

He doesn’t answer because he’s focusing all his energy on not passing out right then and there. When he finally does speak, it’s more of an incoherent babble than a proper sentence. You let out another laugh at his shyness.

“Oh, I see your date is here.” The hostess says as she walks back to her stand. “If you two want to follow me, I’ll show you to your table.”

You gently put the flowers into the bag and take his hand in yours as you follow her to the back of the restaurant. Armin is about 99% sure he just died and went to heaven.

Jean

- We all know that Jean is a hopeless romantic

- So you can bet that he’s been planning Valentine’s Day for a while

- Even before he got into a relationship, he would dream about what he’d do, where he’d take his partner, and what gifts he’d buy

- 100% gets his mother flowers and something else she likes

- Remember that trend about getting a bouquet of 100 roses?

- Yeah, he sees that as a challenge

- So you best believe this man has bought you a bouquet of 200 roses (or your favourite flower)

- You can barely grip the base it’s so big

- (Get your minds out of the gutter, ya nasty)

It’s been a long day at work and you just can’t wait to get home and see Jean. You just got promoted so it’s been pretty hectic trying to get used to the new change, and it doesn’t help that your new boss hasn’t warmed up to you yet.

You trudge up the pathway to your house and quickly open up the door. “Jean! I’m home!” You call out, tiredness dripping from your voice. You didn’t realize when you walked up to your house that all the lights were out. You were far too busy thanking the universe that the day was done. But now as you kick off your shoes, you realize that you can barely see anything. “Jean?”

You look towards the living room and see some candles sitting on the adjacent dining room table. You arch your brow in curiosity as you walk towards the candles. “Jean?” You call out again. The table has a red runner going down the middle with the fine china plates from your wedding sitting at each end.

You two only bring those plates out for special occasions because they’ve been passed down as wedding gifts in his family since his Great Grandmother’s wedding. Soft music starts to play, the kind that’s in those romantic movies when the male leads sees the female lead in a pretty dress for the first time. You see Jean walk out from the kitchen holding the largest bouquet of flowers you’ve ever seen. He literally needs two hands to hold it.

“Hello, my love.” He says, needing to peer around the flowers to see you properly. It also doesn’t help that the bouquet is wrapped in red paper with white lace as an accent.

You laugh at the comically large flowers. “Jean, what on earth is going on?”

“Oh, I saw a trend of people getting 100 roses for Valentine’s Day and knew that you deserved better than that.” Jean answers and then hands you the bouquet. “I can’t even seen you!” You say through your laughter. “But it’s very sweet of you. Thank you, Jean.”

“You’re very welcome.” Jean says. You take a moment to smell the flowers before lying them down in the centre of the table. “Now sit down. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“What is all this?” You ask, gesturing to the table. “Did you do something and need to apologize before I find out?”

“What? Of course not! Well, not this time at least.” He says. “You’ve been working so hard these past few weeks. You needed something to make you smile and I figured that Valentine’s was the perfect time. Besides, this is our first Valentine’s Day as a married couple, of course I had to go all out.”

Your smile drops. “Ah, shit. Is that today?” He nods his head. “Ok, give me one second!” You turn and run towards the stairs.

“Hey, where’re you going?” He calls after you. “I’ll be right back! Give me thirty seconds!” You say while running up the stairs as fast as you can without tripping. You rush into the guest bedroom and open up the second drawer of the bedside table. You then move some old cards out of the way and grab the leather box you hid in here last month.

“That was longer than thirty seconds.” Jean jokes as you walk back into the dining room. “Well, excuse me, Mr. Time-Keeper.” You respond before holding out the box. “Here. I didn’t totally forget.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything, love.” Jean says softly as he takes the box from you. “You give me gifts every time you see something you think I’d like. Of course I had to get you something.” You say.

He opens up the box and gasps softly as he sees an antique watch. You two passed by a little shop while walking to your friend’s house and he couldn’t help but gawk at it. So you went back the next day and immediately bought it for him, not even looking at the price tag. He looks up at you with adoration in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome.” You respond. He places the watch down on the table before pulling you into him, placing a kiss on your lips. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer as the kiss deepens. He moves his hands to your waist and squeezes softly, showing you how much he’s enjoying this moment.

But the next second, the timer goes off on the oven, forcing you two to separate. “Guess we’ll have to finish that later.” Jean says with a smirk on his face.

Marco

- We all know this guy is a sweetheart

- He doesn’t plan anything extravagant, but it’s still amazing

- Adorable would probably be the best word to describe what he does

- He doesn’t do anything cheesy so don’t expect a stuffed animal holding a heart that says “I love you bear-y much”

- Unless you specifically say you want one

- But if you like plushies, you’re definitely getting one

- His gifts are simple: A small bouquet of flowers, maybe some chocolates or candy if you like them, and something else if he feels you’ll really like it

You sit in your dorm room, anxiously waiting for Marco to pop by after work for a movie night. You bought one of those projectors that connects to your computer so you don’t have to crowd around the small screen. Not that you’re not planning on squishing as close to this angel of a human as much as you physically can.

You already have the snacks set up: some cookies, gummy worms, those heart shaped candies and a bucket of popcorn with pink, brown and red chocolates. The second you hear his signature knock, you’re bolting to the door and throwing it open.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.” He greets you as he holds a single rose in front of him. “Aw, thank you.” You say as you take the flower. “Come on in, everything’s set up. We just need to pick a movie.”

You lead him inside your room and take a seat on your bed. You made sure that your roommate wouldn’t be home for a while so you’re using their bunk as the screen for your movie. You’ve trapped one end of a white sheet underneath their bed so you have a flat surface to project the film onto.

“I also have this for you.” Marco says as he holds out a gift bag. It’s a simple Valentine’s-themed bag with a bunch of red and pink hearts on it. “You’re too sweet.” You coo as you take the bag from him. You remove the tissue paper and light up as you see a little dinosaur plush sitting on top of a brown book. You take that out first, placing it on your lap, before grabbing the book.

“What’s this?” You ask curiously, rubbing your hand over the faux-leather surface. “Open it!” He urges. You can see the excitement in his face so you open the book up and gasp as you see what’s inside.

It’s a photo album of moments you two have shared before you were together, and moments from dates. As you flip a few pages, you see candid shots of yourself that you don’t remember him taking. “When did you take these?”

“Whenever I had a chance.” He answers honestly. “I hope you don’t mind. You just looked so great that I needed to take a picture of you.”

“Of course I don’t mind. This is the sweetest gift anyone has ever got me.” You say. He smiles wide and leans down to capture your lips with his. “Now what movie do you want to watch?” He asks.

“Titanic.” You answer simply. “Ah, a classic. Excellent choice.” He says as he sits beside you.

Connie

- The only vibes during this day are comedic

- If you’re expecting this man to be super sappy and give you heart eyes, you’re dead wrong

- He gives you valentines

- Like the kind with cheesy puns that kids give their friends in elementary school

- But also expect his own homemade valentines

- And those make you just about piss yourself with laughter

You get home from work and prepare to get ready for your date with Connie tonight. But before you can take off your shoes, you see a small piece of paper with a picture of Spongebob on it and a heart-shaped lollipop taped to it. You bend down and grab the paper and read what it says.

Be my Valentine!

You laugh, wondering why it was on the ground. Then you see another a few inches away. This one has a piece of bread on it with another lollipop taped to the side. It says: Be the peanut butter to my jelly.

You laugh again and then realize that there’s a trail of little Valentines leading down the hall to the bedroom. Of course you follow without question. One says: You make my tail wag, while another says: You make my heart go doki-doki. Then you pick up one that nearly makes you fall to your knees from laughing so hard.

It’s a photo of Connie from when he ate a ghost pepper. It was a dare from Jean that he wouldn’t eat one whole. So he immediately ate the pepper and instantly regretted it. He’s chugging milk, it dribbles down his chin, and his eyes are red. Tears stream down his cheeks and under his nose is wet from it running. Printed beside the photo in Comic Sans are the words: You’re hotter than the pepper was (Trust me. It was spicy)

You find quite a few more Connie-made cards until you reach your bedroom door. It’s closed over until there’s just a crack so you push it open and just about piss your pants laughing at what you see.

On your bed is Connie, surrounded by rose petals and those stupid candy hearts with corny sayings. But that’s obviously not enough to make you laugh so hard your stomach hurts.

He clutches a rose in his mouth like a dancer and wears a pair of candy underwear. Yes, the kind thats a bra and pantie set. He’s lying on his side, propped up by his elbow and his other arm resting on his side. “Hola, mi amore.” He greets, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. You laugh even harder, needing to lean on the doorway to keep yourself up. He can’t even roll his Rs because of the flower in his mouth.

“When I gave you a key, I wasn’t expecting this.” You say once you catch your breath. “But goddamn. I haven’t laughed this much in years.”

“Glad to be of service.” Connie says as he removes the rose from his mouth. “Now paint me like one of your french girls.”

And you start laughing again.

Levi

- Hates Valentine’s Day

- He finds the red, pink and white decorations an eyesore

- He just doesn’t get the point of having a holiday dedicated to showing someone you love them

- If you love them, show them every day. Why do you need a holiday to do that?

- Knows that it’s just a marketing ploy made by companies to sell more products

- But when you two pass by a store with a Valentine’s display, he sees your eyes light up and knows he has to do something

You know that Levi’s waiting for you in your apartment, you told him to let himself in using the spare key. “Levi! I’m home!” You call out as you kick your shoes off. You can see his sitting neatly beside the front door, but you don’t bother to put yours beside his. “In here.” His voice answers from the kitchen.

You walk in and see some of your favourite flowers sitting in a vase with a red ribbon wrapped around the glass. You then see Levi putting some cookies on a plate. “Levi, what are you doing?” You ask, walking closer to him. “You hate Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, that’s why I didn’t buy any of that cheap shit from the store.” Levi agrees before turning to face you with the plate of cookies. You’re even more surprised to see that they’re sugar cookies. They don’t look perfect, but that doesn’t matter. “You better like these damn cookies. Had to watch five videos before someone explained how to cream butter in ways I understood. Seriously, would a fucking baker need to look these things up? People need to simplify shit more often.”

You can tell he’s rambling because he’s a bit flustered, although neither of you will say it. The tips of his ears are scarlet so that’s also a dead giveaway. “You didn’t have to do this.” You say, the gratitude evident in your tone. “Of course I did.” He argues, crossing his arms across his chest. “You seem to love this day and you do so much for me. It was obvious I had to do something.”

“You’ll never admit it, but you’re sweet.” You say before placing a kiss to his cheek. He grumbles, but you know it’s not because he’s pissed. He just can’t express positive emotions well. “Just know we’re not going out to a restaurant for dinner.” He tells you. “Those places hike up their prices because they know desperate couples will try anything to save their failing relationship.”

“You’re such a romantic, you know?” You say sarcastically. “So I’ve been told.” He responds. “Now go sit down. I made your favourite.”

Hanji

- We all know that modern Hanji is a science teacher

- So when your first Valentine’s together falls on a school day, you’re fairly disappointed knowing they do a lot of hands-on work that takes forever to clean up properly

- They feel horrible and send you a bunch of flowers to your workplace to make up for it

- But of course they have a plan for the actual day

- They’re nothing if not determined and stubborn

- If it’s a good Valentine’s you want, then a great Valentine’s you’ll get

You’re sitting at your desk, scowling at your coworkers as they talk about what their husbands and wives are doing for Valentine’s Day once they get off of work. You know Hanji doesn’t have a choice but to stay late after school finishes because they insist on not having their students sit at desks for an hour, reading over pointless worksheets none of them will remember the second the bell rings.

The janitor refuses to touch their classroom because it’s always a surprise as to what lesson Hanji Zoë jazzes up that day. You hear your phone bing from your bag so you pull it out to see a message from them.

Han Solo: Meet me in my classroom once you’re done work. I have something to show you!

You don’t know if you should be excited or terrified. But nevertheless, you’re intrigued and the day seems to go by slower from there. Once the clock strikes five, you pack up faster than you ever have before and practically run to your car. You know the code to get into the school since you’ve had to come drag them away from their desk more than once.

“Hanji?” You say as you enter the classroom. “Hello, my favourite person on the planet!” Hanji responds enthusiastically. “Come in, come in!”

“Why did you want me to meet you here?” You ask as you walk up to them. “And why is it so dark in here?”

“My last class helped me make something for you.” Hanji says, taking your hand in theirs after fumbling around for it. “Look at the desks.”

You face forward and then a second later, the desks light up. On each one sits a light board in the shape of a different letter to spell out “Happy Valentine’s”.

“Hanji… How did you do this?” You ask in amazement. “Well I figured they were learning how electricity works, so they could help make me this.” Hanji says. “They were more than happy once they got all their teasing out of the way.”

“But… Why’d you have to stay late if they weren’t using any chemicals?” You ask in confusion. “I love my students, babe. But they can be dumb as a stump sometimes.” Hanji explains. “Some of the currents were too strong while others were too weak. So I had to do some tinkering.”

“Thank you.” You say as you turn to them. Their face glows in the light from the desks so you can clearly see their adoring face. “You’re more than welcome.” They respond before kissing you.

#aot fluff #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader fluff #eren yaeger x reader fluff #eren jaeger x reader fluff #armin arlert x reader fluff #marco bodt x reader fluff #marco bott x reader #connie springer x reader fluff #levi ackerman x reader fluff #hange zoe x reader #hanji zoe x reader fluff

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electronicclowncollector · 2 days ago

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Chapter 23: Prom

(Authors note: Sorry for the delays, had procrastination issues lol)

Rogue couldn’t believe it, it was finally the day of the prom, it felt like it had been like 2 weeks since the meeting with Yukino asking for advice, he wasn’t sure why. He got up out of bed and began to prepare, he wore his dads old suit which surprisingly fitted him, probably because of dragon slayer magic, and he stood waiting at the door for the time to arrive as the clock hit 11am. The prom started at 9pm.

Rogue proceeded to wait there, shaking with excitement until it was time to go. He picked up Fresh by the paw and slung them over his back as he opened the door and left for the prom. He walked down the dark street in his dads navy suit, feeling awesome. The world was his catwalk and he sure as hell was gonna be the catboy of it.

“Hey Rogue! Lookin sharp” a voice behind him said. This was it, Rogue was going to finally see what Sting would look like in a suit, his handsome body and charming smile in formal wear. He turned around and… oh, it was gajeel. “Glad to see we can get people from all corners of the school to attend. I think you’ll really like what we have in store.” Rogue had completely forgotten that Gajeel was the host of the prom, though it never really occurred to Rogue to see who was involved since it didn’t matter all that much. Gajeel looked pretty good in his own gajeel way. He wore a black and white suit that had the sleeves ripped off. Gajeel seemed to notice his gaze upon his arms. “So whose your date for the dance Cheney? Come on, you can tell me” Gajeel said, placing a hand on his shoulder with a grip that was almost painful.

Rogue blushed, “O- oh, I don’t have a date for the dance, I’m going with Sting platonically though… I don’t think he has a date either though…”

“Really? Sting Eucliffe of all people not having a date? I remember seeing girls ask him out to be their prom partner several times but he turned them all down…” he playfully bumped Rogue with his shoulder, almost knocking him onto the road and ending the fanfiction right there. “Maybe you got a chance then.”

Rogue blushed and stuttered and stammered, HOW DID GAJEEL KNOW?!??! “I- I- You- I- nya- How- G- gajeel?”

“Come on, as if it wasn’t incredibly obvious that you like Sting. Well, I should get going, I gotta be there early for preparations. Good luck mate!” he said, before leaping onto a building roof and parkouring his way to the school, like the parkour dragon from Rogue’s book. That was all very embarrassing and Rogue was still tense after it, but he continued walking anyway, for Sting. Eventually he arrived at the academy, and there really wasn’t much to see, they only really decorated the inside so it was basically the same on the outside except for the light coming from the hall, so he went in. It surprised him how many people were there, and he was even more surprised that he recognised a lot of them. But for writing reasons, he couldn’t find sting anymore.

Rogue began to panic but eventually came to the conclusion that Sting would be, as usual, fashionably late. So he decided to try talking to the people he recognised. He started by approaching Lucy, who he saw talking to Minerva, who was drunk and crying. Lucy was taking it well, acting polite and showing no sympathy whatsoever for her tears, simply talking to her like she’s acting normal.

“H- hi Lucy, how are you finding the prom?”

Lucy jumped in surprise and turned to face her ex (?) with a blush on her cheeks, “H- hi Rogue! I’m having fun, Gajeel didn’t like the idea of making it snake themed though, so I’m a bit disappointed about that, but it turned out well… How about you, do you want a date- I- I mean, have you got a date for the dance?”

Rogue blushed and looked down, adjusting his glasses and playing with his hair, “No, not really… but I’m gonna be hanging out with Sting for most of it I think… Have you seen him anywhere?”

Lucy looked down in slight disappointment, “Oh, Sting… No, I don’t think so.” She perked up, “Oh yeah! Maybe he’s at the petminding area. To make life easier for the pet owners attending, Gray thought it would be a good idea to have someone volunteer to mind all the pets while the prom happens. You could go by and leave your cat… frog… thing over there, and maybe you’ll see Sting there.”

“Oh! G- good idea, thanks… Lucy…” he stammered out as she took his hand and brought him through the hall. The act of intimacy caught him off guard immensely, his cheeks were as red as the even redder dragon from the newer dragon book Rogue had back at home. He almost dropped Fresh out of surprise, but instead gripped them harder, causing them to let out a strangled ribbit. Soon enough, they got to the area and Rogue launched Fresh into the sandpit that was available for cats, right next to doug, who was high on catnip.

“Bye Fresh!” Rogue called out to the very dizzy cat. Beside him, Lucy was blushing a bit as Rogue left, wishing she had said something more before he left. Meanwhile Rogue was disappointed that Sting wasn’t there, and his worries began to pile up. He wandered through the hall of chatting students and decided to try to find someone to talk to, someone who would understand him, someone with similar interests… He couldn’t find anyone (despite Lucy’s efforts) and was about to leave when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Milord, such a pleasure to meet a beta male like you at such a prestigious event.”

Rogue turned around and was very surprised to see Mirajane Strauss standing before him, with a smitten Gary Fullbuster clinging to her arm. Mirajane was wearing quite a similar outfit to her usual wear but a bit more formal. She had an extra shiny fedora on and under her ankle length trench coat was a shirt and tie, admittedly it looked pretty good, not as good as sting, not even close, but it was nice. Gray was wearing a cheap 3 piece suit- nevermind, 2 piece now, the jacket had strangely disappeared. Rogue realised he was monologuing in his head too much and spoke up “T- thanks… you two look great together…” he faced Gray. Who was nuzzling his head into Mirajanes shoulder like an affectionate cat. “I thought you and Juvia were in a relationship…”

Gray let out a little growl and held Mirajanes arm tighter, “No… we’re just friends…” he sounded the word ‘friends’ like it was a slur that nobody should ever say. “Janey is the only one for me…”

Mirajane rolled her eyes with a smile and patted his head, “Calm down, be a good boy and let go of your alpha females arm, My Lord.”

Gray immediately let go of Mirajanes arm, looking down at the floor with cheeks as red as something really red, Rogues mind was too boggled to even think of a type of dragon that fit the description of being red so you’ll just have to imagine something really red. Oh, and now Gray’s suit only had one piece, the trousers. Rogue decided that was enough of that conversation and was about to leave as he heard the door to the hall slam open and Rogue turned around right away to see the dragon god in human form himself, Sting Eucliffe.

“WWOOOOOOH HELLO EVERYBODY! THE INCREDIBLY CONFIDENT STING EUCLIFFE IS IN THE HOUSE!” Sting called out. There was silence, then applause, then cheering. It was a standing ovation, probably because nobody was sitting because it was a dance.

Rogue nervously walked over to Sting, who strode over with an aura of pure awesomeness and put an arm around his shoulder, “Ready for the night of your life? These dating fools don’t measure up at all to the 2 legendary bachelors that are us!” Rogue blushed, sting blushed, Stings confident façade was falling apart at the first sign of Rogue’s cuteness. Rogue wondered why Doug was at the petminding area before sting had arrived, but then he chalked it up to Sting being fashionably late and awesome. Once the crowd had settled down, the pair began to chat for a bit, when Gajeel approached the two.

“Hey hey Sting, so glad you could show up dude!” exclaimed Gajeel as he patted Sting on the back. His confidence was matched by Sting, who patted him on the back even harder, “Ah, Gajeel, my man, Gajeel ‘wifehaver’ Redfox, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Rogue felt a sudden pull as he was squeezed up against Sting, it felt like heaven, the softness of the fabric on Sting’s suit and the warmth of his body being so close, his cheeks went so incredibly red, would he feel this every day if Sting and Rogue got married? If Sting’s body felt like this, what would his lips feel like? His mind whirred with thoughts and fantasies, while on the outside he was simply letting out little Meows, which was driving Sting crazy on the inside.

Sting knew he had to keep his composure around Rogue, so he pulled him along to a group of people, most of which were in the Saber Tooth club and a few friends outside the guild. Rogue was snapped out of his haze as he saw the people they were approaching, Bickslow, Laki, Sorano and Minerva. Minerva was more drunk then he had ever seen her, she could barely stand, she had an arm around Laki to keep her up, Laki was of course wearing stiletto heels and was inwardly struggling to keep hold of her.

“Hey Laki, glad to see you and Bickslow are doing well” Sting said to her with a friendly grin, that sparked some jealousy in Rogue.

“Oh yes, he’s a good boy and was the first in my harem, so he gets a bit of special treatment” Laki says, holding up the leash she had that was attached to a collar around Bickslows neck. Rogue… Rogue didn’t like this sight, it made him want to be sick, but one word stuck out to him and it seemed Sting felt the same way…

“Harem..?”

“Oh yes, Sorano was incredibly desperate for a partner that I let her join, she’s very low maintenance, I barely even need to interact with her and she’ll be content. Minerva followed not long after and she’s inseparable from me… though her opinion on me is very different if I have no alcohol on me…”

“Right…” Sting said, feeling very uncomfortable, he turned to Sorano, who was on her phone texting someone, “Hey Sora! Did Yukino not come with her boyfriend for the prom?”

“Nah…” she seemed very focussed on texting, about 80% focussed on her phone, 20% on the conversation, though it seemed that was enough for her to hear what Sting was saying, “Her boyfriend doesn’t go to the academy so he wasn’t allowed to attend, so naturally she didn’t come either, they’re having a little date night back home.”

With a shrug, he seemed to understand the logic. Following the simple gesture, he whispered in Rogue’s ear, “Wanna go to the dance floor for a little platonic dancing? It’ll be fuuun”

Rogue gasped and nodded, “Nyah!” he agreed.

The dance floor was packed as the music slowed down, Sting put his strong right arm and large hand around Rogue’s waist and Rogue looked up at him with a gaze of pure awe. Sting then gracefully placed his foot atop Rogue’s as they attempted to dance, causing pain to shoot up his leg, but Rogue didn’t care, this was so romantic, this was as close as they’d ever be, Rogue knew. Nothing could ruin this night, it was all so perfect.

“Rogue… how do you like my confidence? Or how well I am at being myself?”

“S- So much… Your so cool Sting…”

“Yeah… I know” Sting pulled his other hand out of Rogue’s and gave him a little finger gun while making a clicking sound with his mouth, and it was like he had been shot right through the heart by cupids very own finger guns. As the totally platonic bro dance continued, the two talked and talked and it was so intimate, so heartwarming. That is, until DJ Erza changed the song to Cha Cha slide.

Gajeel then announced to the hall, “Alright lovebirds, it’s time to announce the very first PROM KING AND QUEEN!”

Everyone gathered around, Rogue was so nervous, he knew he wouldn’t be picked for Prom King or Queen, but there was still that hope.

“This prom has been a huge success, and I think that they’ll only get better from here. Tonight will mark the start of a new Academy annual tradition!” Everyone cheered at Gajeels enthusiasm. “Now, for the part you’ve all been waiting for… we’ll start with the prom queen, as you all know the saying, Ladies first, so the very first prom queen for the dragon slaying academy is… Lucy Heartfilia!”

Lucy gasped as she stepped onto the stage in her snake themed dress, she gracefully moved to the middle of the stage and had the Prom Tiara placed on her head (??? I have no idea I haven’t been to a prom before). She had a wide grin on her face, despite not actually having a date for the dance.

“And the prom king is…” Gajeel paused for suspense, “ROGUE CHENEY! We really need to tweak the rules for prom king and queen, we were way too vague with who it could be…” Everyone applauded as Rogue went up and stood next to Lucy, grinning with tears in his eyes and a meow caught in his throat as he felt the heavy crown lowered onto his head, he glanced over at Lucy, both were blushing, Gajeel looked over to Erza and whispered, “What now?”

Erza shrugged “I don’t know, maybe make them walk down the middle of the crowd?”

Gajeel shrugged, “Sounds good to me. Alright! Everybody make way for the King and Queen of Prom!”

Everyone awkwardly made space for the two of them to walk down the middle as some romantic piano music played. Rogue was very confused as to why it couldn’t have been Sting who was prom king with him, 2 kings walking hand in hand, sex with a man, etc. But he walked with Lucy, who linked arms with him, just like they had practised together. He actually kinda enjoyed her company, if it weren’t for Sting she might even be a good partner for him-

“GAJEEL LOOK OUT!” Erza called out, Everyone turned to face the stage and Gajeel lay on the floor, face down with a knife in his back. Gajeel was dead. Things had changed.

To be continued (someday)

(Authors note 2: I still know barely anything about fairy Tail, but I'd like to think that Gajeel and erza are (or would be) total bros with eachother, just the vibe I get. A sort of drinking buddy dynamic but healthier if you get what i mean. If i'm wrong do tell me)

#fairy tail #rogue cheney #sting eucliffe #new characters appearing?#even if its kinda late for that #fanfic

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jo-harrington · 2 days ago

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Luminous Beings - Episode 2: Not the Smuggler You're Looking For

Art by @monologichno || Beta Read by @undead-supernova Part of the @eddiemunsonbigbang

Summary: Eddie accepts the new venture presented to him and the new business partners get to know each other over drinks.

Word Count: 6.4k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Thalia Trieste)

Warnings/Themes: Star Wars AU, Action, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Miscommunication, Distrust, Mention of Alcohol and Substance Use, Minor Canon Inaccuracies/Adaptation, Galactic Politics, Mention of Death, Vague Reference to Order 66 and the Jedi Purge

Note: Thanks to everyone who's reading Luminous Beings so far. I'm so glad you're enjoying. This chapter we're about to dive a little bit more into the politics in the Galaxy Far Far Away. Not in-depth and detailed, but reactions from Eddie's POV.

Once again, you don’t need to know much about Star Wars to read. But if you are not familiar with Star Wars please take this as an additional warning: Star Wars has always been political. The themes have always mirrored real world events and this fic is no different. I don't go into great detail about what is happening because the focus is the characters reactions to it. They aren't really sure what's happening either. And the things that Eddie and the other characters feel in this fantastical world...they mirror what a lot of us feel here in the real world.

Writing this as we keep going headfirst into feelings of overwhelmedness and lack of control and uncertainty in our world …it was honestly very therapeutic to be able to put the feeling to words with a character I love when I oftentimes am unable to verbalize them myself. So thank you for being witness to this and I hope it helps you find some kind of sense of understanding, if only for a moment, too.

Luminous Beings Masterlist - Jo-Harrington's Masterlist

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

Nar Shaddaa - 10BBY

The energy at the table was familiar, yet strange.

Familiar in the sense that it definitely felt like something they'd encounter back home on Bracca: sitting in a cantina, chatting, and listening to the DJ spin tunes that were popular in this part of the Outer Rim.

And instead of the ever-present sense of danger that surrounded the visitors and interactions on the Smuggler's Moon, there was a comfort and sense of camaraderie that Mott and Merg Assob brought that made Eddie and his friends feel more at ease entering into a clandestine agreement with Thalia.

It was strange, though, because they were quirky enough that they didn't seem like the type of people to be in the smuggling business.

Merg had been the leather-clad stranger at the Surly Sarlaac the previous night, choosing an otherwise unassuming facade to keep herself safe on-planet. Without her helmet, she was a round-cheeked, lavender-skinned Theelin bombshell with an infectious laugh and, apparently, a singing voice that would insult even the tone-deaf.

"Well, there goes our tradition of drunkenly singing shanties with our associates before we head to the spaceport," Jeff announced with an awkward laugh.

It didn't take long for his friends to realize that he'd developed some kind of attraction for Merg, which was dashed when Mott was introduced as her husband.

Mott was as human as they came, almost painfully so. He looked like the type who'd try to sell you a used speeder, with thinning hair and a highly-stylized mustache, crinkling-eyes and a crooked smile. But he was friendly. More than friendly. He was almost neighborly. He'd greeted the crew of the Dragonborn like you would an old friend, and then offered to buy the first round, especially since they'd all be doing business together.

Then he got right to work regaling everyone with the stories of their most recent travels.

Of course, not without starting off with a cordial greeting. How a friend of Thalia’s was a friend of theirs, and how she'd been one of the most reliable contacts they'd had in the business.

And reliability was comforting to hear.

Especially when the blue-haired flight attendant hadn't bothered to join them yet.

"...And then the bartender asked if I was ready for the creamiest in all the galaxy," Mott held the attention of the table in rapt suspense. "To which I replied, 'That's exactly what I'm looking for.’"

Merg mouthed the words alongside her husband with a playful roll of her eyes.

"Famous last words," they concluded in tandem, earning chuckles from Dayv and G'areth.

Eddie laughed along with slightly less enthusiasm. He kept glancing towards the entrance of the cantina to manifest Thalia's appearance.

Jeff noticed, of course, and leaned in closer.

He whispered into Eddie's ear, "Do you think she's gonna bail?"

"No," Eddie shook his head, but kept his attention towards the front of the cantina. "She's the one who set this all up, I don't think she's gonna disappear on us. Not if she wants her payout."

He felt like an idiot to be left waiting like this, but that was entirely on his shoulders. He had accepted the job and agreed to this meeting without much in the way of being able to contact their new associate. Now he was left wondering where she was, with no way of reaching her, and he knew he'd look stupid in front of his friends—his crew—if he asked the Assobs if they'd heard anything from her.

Eddie had purposely omitted some of the details about his interaction with Thalia and the means by which they'd obtained this new job. He might’ve been a little embarrassed that the attraction he felt towards her was some kind of ruse, sure. But something about their meeting unsettled him after they'd parted ways, and he couldn't quite pin down what exactly it was.

She'd begged him for help and he accepted.

He wasn't entirely sure why he'd done that. He was a nice guy, sure, but he wasn't running a charitable cause. He tried to tell himself that she was paying for their services. In fact, she said she'd pay anything, which was suspicious in and of itself.

But credits were credits…and she begged him...so he accepted.

That was enough explanation for the guys in his opinion. He knew they wouldn't go into the job blind. If they sensed anything awry, they would tell him immediately and he would call the whole deal off.

Jeff, of course, was more in tune to the fact that Eddie was behaving strangely, than anything to do with their new acquaintances.

"Do you think this is some kind of trick?" he questioned Eddie further in concern. "I know these guys trust her but what if this is a chance for the Empire to bust us after that one job on Brentall IV?"

And that was the real conundrum, the real source of Eddie's uneasiness. He was pretty intuitive, but despite his sense of nervousness and uneasiness...he didn't sense any sort of danger around Thalia. The only deceit that she had shown herself capable of was getting him to trust her, maybe even like her, for a split second before she revealed she was only interested in what he could do for her.

And not who he was.

So could this be a trap? Sure.

But was it?

"It's not," Eddie answered definitively. "She'll be here."

He picked up his drink and knocked the whole thing back, before he signaled to the roaming service droid that he wanted another.

"How do you know?" Jeff pressed.

"She'll be here," Eddie repeated with a grunt.

"Who'll be here?" A whispered voice came from beside him.

Eddie turned, startled, to find Thalia sliding into the seat he'd left empty for her.

She was dressed less conspicuously than she had been at the Surly Sarlacc; while her blue curls remained intact, she'd traded her Star Tours uniform for clothes that blended in with the locals—a fitted shirt and jacket, and utility trousers tucked into comfortable boots. There was an obvious lack of a blaster anywhere on her person, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one. He realized, then, that her tactic to get his attention the night before had worked; he doubted that he'd have honed in on her amidst the crowd if she dressed like she was now.

He grit his teeth as he debated waving down the service droid again, desperate for another drink.

Thalia seemed to read his mind, though, and offered to get the next round as she greeted everyone. Of course that put her in the good grace's of Eddie's friends immediately, and they all clapped at the offer.

"Uh," Thalia observed of the various states of intoxication at the table. "Maybe some snacks, too. Sober everyone up before we head to the spaceport."

"That's a good idea," Merg snickered and pinched at Mott's arm. "This one's been getting everyone drunk on Moof Juice."

"It's so they'll be more captivated by my stories," Mott argued amicably. "Speaking of Moof, we have to tell these boys about that time on Batuu..."

"Why don't," Eddie interjected with a suggestion of his own, "you tell us about how the three of you met? Since you seem to be such good friends."

He felt the fire within him quell as Thalia turned her eyes back to him, as that calm feeling settled over him once again.

He was starting to hate that feeling.

"Business associates," Thalia corrected him coolly. Then, almost as an afterthought she added, "more often than not."

"And when you're not?"

"Then we're drinking buddies."

"It might seem like a big galaxy," Merg interjected. "But it's a lot smaller than you think. Gotta keep the few good people you know close."

"Yeah, well, the only good people we know happen to be sitting at this table," G'areth chuckled and clapped a hand on Mott's shoulder. "You folks count, of course."

"Well, thanks," Mott grinned and returned the gesture, practically pulling G'areth closer to him. "But trusting your crew is a big deal. It's why it's only ever been me and the Mrs. Can't seem to find anyone else who wouldn't sell us out to the Imps."

Four sets of eyes turned on Thalia suspiciously.

"I'm not a part of their crew," she defended herself with a sarcastic smile. "And you can ask your Captain, I'm no fan of the Empire."

The service droid approached the table with fresh drinks and took orders for the next round, which dissolved the tension that had momentarily overtaken them. As it rolled away, the crew of the Dragonborn were treated to a delightful story about a sabaac game gone wrong, a run-in with the Hutts, and a slicer who could get clearance codes to an Imperial freighter.

"Allegedly," Mott, Merg, and Thalia all said as they got to the end of their story.

It was a hard story to follow, so outrageous it had to have been a lie, but having heard one of Mott Assob's drawn out anecdotes prior to it, the boys figured it was true. Or, at least, some of it had to be.

"And what about you boys?" Merg asked then. "Thali said you're from...what was it...Corellia?"

"Bracca," Eddie and Thalia corrected her in tandem. Eddie shot her an annoyed glance.

"Even worse," Merg snorted. "The guilds will screw you over more than any of the Bosses will; I’d start smuggling to avoid them too. So, let's hear it. How'd you get off that scrap-heap?"

The boys all hesitated, eyes darting to one another as they tried to figure out which one of them would start.

If they should start.

Of course, as the Captain, Eddie took the lead.

"It's not as glamorous as your story," he began with the slightest tinge of self-pity in his voice. "But these guys have been my best friends for years. We met back at school…"

He drifted off into the fond memories of him and his friends back home.

Bracca - 19BBY

"Long night, Mister Moonsun?"

Eddie's head snapped up and he shifted in his seat as his classmates snickered around him; he then turned his attention to his instructor, Cal Larke, who stood beside his station and stared at him with gentle concern.

"No, sir," Eddie cleared his throat and shook his head, then looked down to the datapad before him. It showed an extensive engineering diagram that almost made his eyes cross with its complexity.

"Bored?"

"No, sir, sorry."

How could he tell his instructor that he'd been kept up with nightmares and hadn't gotten much sleep? That he felt little bits of anxiety, pains in his heart all night and he was too afraid to close his eyes again.

Instead, he just apologized again and said, "I won't let it happen again."

Larke placed a gentle hand on Eddie's shoulder and then went back to his podium to continue his lesson.

Eddie turned his head towards the next station, where Jeff was seated, and shot him a questioning glare as if to ask "how come you didn't wake me up?"

Jeff just shrugged apologetically and looked back down to his own datapad.

Poodoo Head.

Everyone knew that Eddric Moonsun wasn't the best student at the Training Institute—he wasn't even in the top 50%—but he was curious, good at tinkering, and a quick learner. So this was where he ended up, whether he liked it—or was good at it—or not. The Guilds could always use more manpower, according to his uncle. According to everyone.

Not like there were many other career options on Bracca, unless he wanted to sling bantha hash someplace at the Terrace.

He'd live and work and work and live, until he was an old man and death came for him. It would be a simple life.

A simple life was a good life.

At least, that's what Uncle Wane always said.

Your family, your health, a job that paid well, and a good cup of caf to wake you up in the morning; those were the keys to happiness.

Except...Eddie wasn't sure that was really what he wanted.

He trudged through the rest of the lesson and whooped when class let out for the day.

One of the only good things about Bracca was that it was basically one big playground; that was the way he and his friends looked at the otherwise lackluster planet that they called home. Bracca was dotted with the hulking, rotting skeletons of cruisers and starships dating back as far as anyone could remember.

If Corellia was the shipyard of the Galaxy, Bracca was the junkyard.

And instead of building the next great starship—or warship, as deep as the Republic currently was in the Clone Wars—the engineers on Bracca thought of ways to break down the remnants of star travel past and reuse their parts for something new. Inventions that could benefit lesser-developed or wartorn planets in the Republic.

Everything that was left behind? The husks? The engineers made good use of them too.

Of course, they weren't meant for dumb kids to climb and play in but it happened anyway.

In the outskirts of town, past the Terrace but before the vast shipbreaking yards, Eddie and his idiot friends created a makeshift clubhouse in the remains of a Rendilli corvette. It was an old scrap heap—a relic—that wasn't even worth the time to break down, so of course they thought it was perfect. It was where they wasted time between class and home. They fussed with fantastical make-believe stories and crafted little figurines out of scraps to go along with their games; tales of heroes and villains and myths that they'd only ever dreamed of.

They’d have speeder races through Coruscant, vibrosword fights with bounty hunters on Mandalore, and explored the suncaves of Sedri for treasure.

They'd even found, in a stack of discarded parts, a dusty, old, bin-shaped T7-series astromech droid. It was a relic too, and of course it didn't work, but Jeff and G'areth had started rebuilding it, bit by bit.

Maybe they’d get it to work one day. The droid. And the ship. And they’d all be able to leave Bracca behind and live out their fantasies.

Until then, the most exciting thing they did was listen to the Holonet News.

"Don't know why you kids wanna listen to any of that stuff," his uncle would always grumble while Eddie caught the morning broadcast before they left for the day. "Just propaganda for the Republic. We're in a war no one wanted. They've got to make it seem like we're winning."

But there was another reason why Eddie liked to watch the broadcasts. It's why everyone wanted to.

The Jedi.

The protectors of the galaxy, now tirelessly working to stop the Trade Federation from…

What were they trying to do exactly? Eddie couldn't be too sure; he had been a bit too young to care about the details when the conflict began. It was practically history now, and he was barely passing his galactic history module.

But stories of the heroes of the Republic were endless and exciting; they always had been, even before the war. The mysterious Jedi Masters and their travels and adventures throughout the galaxy. Peace and justice, the ways of the Force.

Aside from the impact of the Clone Wars, nobody on Bracca seemed to care except for Eddie and his friends. Nobody they knew, at least.

It was just another bit of escapism from the mundane future that waited for them and that they—or possibly just Eddie—refused to accept.

"This just in," Eddie shouted, mimicking the HoloNet News anchor's voice, as he and his friends ran towards their clubhouse. "General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker foiled yet another assassination attempt on the Chancellor's life earlier today above Coruscant."

"The Chancellor thanks his heroic saviors by awarding them with fame and riches beyond belief!" Dayv added excitedly.

"But the Jedi, known for their vows of selflessness, rejected the rewards," G'areth continued. "We were able to get a statement from General Kenobi himself."

Eddie, who'd spent hours practicing his fancy Coruscanti accent just for the fun of make-believe, adjusted his posture to match the Jedi Master.

"It is our duty and privilege to save the Chancellor and ensure democracy thrives."

"He wouldn't say that!" Jeff scoffed and slapped a hand against his shoulder.

"Yes he would! I swear!"

Once their bickering was over, they logged in for the afternoon broadcast of the Holonet news on a datapad and all went about their little hobbies.

Ga'reth and Jeff took out their tools to work on the droid. Eddie fiddled Wane’s old guitar and daydreamed something new for once—starting a band with his friends one day; talk about a dream. And Dayv tapped away on his own datapad, some research for their pretend.

Finally, the much-awaited broadcast began.

"This is Alfwanne Pinngran," the lead anchor greeted.

"I'm Kafra Krint,” came the voice of his co-star. “And this is Holonet News."

The boys all hummed along with the catchy intro jingle.

They expected to hear the repetitive stories that had fed into their imagination for weeks—news of the heroes of the war—but the mood immediately turned somber as Kafra began with breaking news.

"An attack on the Jedi Temple on Coruscant!" All four boys froze. "Smoke has been seen coming from the Temple, but with no official statement given by the Jedi Order, we can only assume the worst."

"And you know what they say about assuming things, Kafra," Alf cut in, his mistimed joke taking on more of a somber tone.

"CSF has told us that the situation is under control and the residents in the surrounding areas should proceed with normal activities. Skylanes around the temple have been diverted and there has been increased security on the ground as Clone Battalions have been seen en masse. Holonet News will report more once we have additional information."

The boys sat in suspense, hoping for more, but the broadcast moved back onto other reports as usual. General galactic news, reports about the Clone Wars, and a one-in-a-lifetime weather event in the atmosphere of Umgul.

They were all shocked.

Eddie was stunned into silence.

They waited and listened, but soon the broadcast was over.

They raced home after that. Escaping from their mundane lives suddenly didn’t seem so important. They couldn't waste another minute on their fantasies and make believe, not as a big part of their world came to a screeching halt.

And it did, indeed, come to a screeching halt.

Especially for Eddie.

He complained of a stomach ache to Wane for days, and Wane—knowing not to question or force his nephew to do something he truly didn't want to do—let him stay home from the Training Institute.

"But only ‘til the end of the week." He pointed at Eddie sternly. "You're getting older now, son. Sixteen. You've gotta have some responsibility. You've gotta finish your classes and make something of yourself. Moping around at home isn't gonna get you there."

"I know, Wane," Eddie sighed.

Wane, ever a man of few words, turned on his heel and was about to depart. But he stopped at the door and looked back.

"Someone at school bothering you?" he asked.

Eddie stiffened for a moment under his uncle’s scrutiny.

He knew he couldn't tell Wane about his worries; Wane kept his head down, and didn't care about the Republic or the Jedi. He didn't care for the war either but what could they do? They couldn’t just up and leave the galaxy; the most they could do was get off-planet. He wouldn't understand why Eddie was so affected by the news he'd heard.

So he just said, "No."

"You get into an argument with your friends?"

"No, everything's fine."

"Well...how about we go down to the Terrace for breakfast on Benduday? You tell me what's bothering you."

Eddie sighed and reluctantly agreed, but felt the guilt churn in his stomach until Wane finally left their flat for his shift.

He immediately hopped out of bed to grab his datapad from his schoolbag; he signed into Holonet News and scrolled articles for anything from Coruscant that would give more details about the attack on the Jedi temple.

And it was silly. He knew that it was silly.

Eddie—well, the whole kriffing Moonsun family—wasn't big on beliefs. Sure, there was the Force, but he didn't see or feel any Force. Most of the galaxy didn't, at least as far as he knew.

But it was nice to believe there was more, wasn't there?

Not just the mystical, but the tangible, too. Dreams and goals and plans.

Wane had been right, he had to think about his future, but to have a future that was a carbonite copy of Wane's life? That's not what he desired.

Wasn't there more out there than that? A whole galaxy to explore and search for happiness.

Eddie's father thought so, that's why he hadn't been back on Bracca for more than a few days at a time since his mother died. But Aldred Moonsun had lost his way thanks to grief. He couldn't care for his son, only for himself. There was nothing ambitious about his abandonment of the status quo.

So, for Eddie, the Holonet truly represented...more.

The stories about other planets, the stories about the Jedi, about heroes and princesses and even the types of foods that could be found if he could only get off Bracca.

Bracca was the only home he'd ever known all his life; how could he tell his uncle that what he really wanted was to be anywhere but here?

How could he tell his uncle that after he'd learned about the Jedi, he'd wished that they might come and take him away to be a hero and save the galaxy one day, just like they were?

A notification at the corner of the screen pulled Eddie back to reality and he pressed it to see the live broadcast of the Galactic Senate.

It started slow, with introductions of delegates from around the galaxy.

He enjoyed seeing their garb; costumery that celebrated the cultures of the planets they represented. It was so different from the purposeful clothing that his uncle wore as an engineer, or his uniform for the Training Institute—even though he'd added his own little bits of flair where he could to feel different. To feel more like himself, whoever he really was.

A scroll of text at the bottom of the screen indicated that this was an emergency convening of the senate, called by the Chancellor himself. There were statements from various senators about their quick trips to Coruscant from afar, and all had statements and well-wishes about the attack on the Jedi Temple, as true politicians would.

Eventually, Chancellor Palpatine took his place at the center of the Galactic Senate and began his speech amidst the applause at his appearance.

Immediately, Eddie could tell that something was wrong. A feeling deep in his gut. The Chancellor's words...they just didn't make sense.

The war was over, the Separatists had lost.

But with the Republic's victory, a new challenge emerged.

Jedi. Betrayal. Rebellion. Assassination.

An uprising against the Galactic Republic on over a thousand worlds, and the Clone Battalions protecting the sanctity and order by slaughtering the traitorous Jedi.

"The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated!" Palpatine declared to the roaring crowd, most of whom seemed to agree thanks to their cheers.

Eddie was horrified as Holonet News began flashing what could only be described as wanted posters across the top of the broadcast. Hundreds of faces of Jedi Knights and Masters.

Yoda. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Quinlan Vos.

And apprentices.

Padawan Jin-Lo Rayce. Padawan Ferus Olin, Padawan Steev Toninghar.

Kids who looked just about as old as he did. Some even younger.

They were going to hunt these younglings down? They were going to kill children?

The list went on and on.

And Eddie continued to watch the address in horror and confusion. In grief.

Everything he knew, the stories he knew and loved...had it all been a lie? The Jedi were heroes; they'd just saved Palpatine. They'd never try to kill him.But why shouldn’t he trust what the Holonet News said? Why shouldn’t he trust the Chancellor when he’d just led the Republic to victory? When he’d just ended the Clone Wars?

Palpatine said one last remark to thunderous applause before his Grand Vizier took over the address—

"In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe and secure society."

—and with that Eddie's world began to be torn apart by something so much bigger, so immensely grander than a boy from Bracca could ever fathom.

Nar Shaddaa - 10BBY

"...old Ed here got a job with his uncle down at the shipbreaking yard, and he strong-armed us into starting a band to play down at the Terrace until we were done with school."

Eddie was pulled back into the conversation as Jeff patted him on the back; he straightened in his seat and turned his eyes down towards his drink, a little ashamed that he'd lost himself in the memory of the day everything changed.

Despite this, his friends had done an excellent job of telling the tales. Of Bracca, of their schooling, of their dream of something better. The others sat raptly as the story concluded.

Well, Mott and Merg did.

Thalia was stiff beside him, fingers tapping against the sides of her glass as she seemingly absorbed the story, but looked to be lost in her thoughts. Just like Eddie had been.

It only took a few brief moments of his eyes on her for her to break from her trance; she turned her head to him, and with sad eyes, she gave him a smile.

Once again, he was left confused. He didn't know what to make of that smile. Didn't know what to make of her. Didn't know what to make of this whole kriffing situation that he seemed to have gotten himself into by accepting this job.

He was unsettled by his own recollections; he hadn't really thought of home in years. They'd left and hadn't ever looked back. His uncle had visited them once—just once—at their first flat on Coruscant. It had been a long and tedious journey that Eddie hadn't made him take again. But other than that, it was a holocomm on birthdays and a transfer of credits to hopefully help Wane retire someday.

Credits like the ones he could send once they were done with this job. Credits like the ones Thalia promised. Promised him, Eddie Moonsun of Bracca, the planet he left behind and had barely mentioned to anyone outside of his crew. His friends.

How had she known that fact? And why were they telling her more? What were they doing? Sitting around telling stories, telling secrets, instead of doing the job that would be paid to do?

"Work got pretty lean by the time the rest of us graduated," Dayv continued with a distasteful grunt. "The Engineering Guild turned into the Scrapper Guild. The Empire decided they didn't want recycled ships after the war was over."

"So we all worked on fixing up the old corvette."

"And that's the ship we still use today."

"The Dragonborn," G'areth said with a dramatic flair, hands waving enticingly.

Eddie's friends started to talk about their trip to Coruscant and their first job, but he decided enough was enough. Everyone went silent as he stood from his seat and adjusted his jacket; they all stared at him expectantly.

What were they expecting? What did he expect? He should just call it off once and for all...but for some reason, he couldn't.

He didn’t want to do this. But he knew he had to.

"And the rest," he concluded with an air of finality, "is history. Now, are we gonna sit around here all day? Or are we going to get your cargo off of this blasted planet?"

Eddie leaned against the hull of his ship as he observed the droids that zipped around Deucalon Spaceport.

He was used to a lot of chaos and commotion in the hangars. There were ships guided in and out, and passengers and cargo being loaded and unloaded. Someone a few bays down was arguing with a customs droid and angry Huttese echoed off the durasteel walls; Eddie wasn't much of a betting man but if things didn't cool off soon, he might almost expect blaster fire.

However, the most important thing that he needed to keep his attention on was the cargo being loaded off the Assob's shiny Rendili freighter.

It was an unassuming container, a rectangular cuboid twice as tall as he was, if he could guess. He figured it was the size of his childhood bedroom, which was to say that it didn't look very big at all. It didn't look very suspicious either, or like it contained something that desperately needed to get off-planet.

But that was the whole point of smuggling, wasn't it? To avoid suspicion or detection?

As the singular container was repulsorlifted away from the Assob's ship, Eddie expected more to be unloaded. A second container, maybe a third. But the loading ramp soon shut with a satisfying hiss.

That was it? Must have been one hell of a container.

Thalia walked alongside Dayv, Merg, and the traffic controller that was overseeing the transfer. She stopped beside Eddie as the others loaded the container into the Dragonborn's cargo bay.

"G'areth made a new friend," she told him in an amused tone. "Mott has a whole team of pit droids and G'ar helped one with a stuck clamp. I've never seen a droid with a crush before, but there's a first time for everything."

"You made all this fuss over one measly container," Eddie scoffed and ignored her story. "What's in it?"

Thalia's smile dropped and her eyes hardened.

"Need to know." Her response was curt and sharp, and Eddie could practically feel the phantom jab of a finger against his sternum, even though her hands were clenched around the straps of her bag.

"Well, I'm letting it on my ship," he snarked back at her. "So I need to know."

And he was sure that she would fold. It wasn't an outrageous thing for the captain of the ship you hired to smuggle something onto the capital of the Empire to know just what it was he was about to smuggle. With a container that small, it couldn't be anything outrageous either. Spice, weapons, credits, artifacts...that's really all it could be. Maybe a few speeder bikes? It wasn't even large enough to fit a decently-sized speeder.

Kriff, he'd even settle for knowing who hired Thalia! She'd called herself a freelancer, right? She helped someone get something somewhere. He knew where it was going, he would either like to know the who or the what.

The longer he stared at her and waited for an answer, he should have realized that he wasn't going to get it.

For the second time in the past 24 hours, she looked nervous; her otherwise cool and confident facade faltered. She worried her bottom lip for a moment and her eyes darted to the loading ramp where the container was being lifted in.

Then she looked back at Eddie.

"I'll pay extra," she said. "If you stop asking about what's inside."

Eddie felt a hot annoyance ignite in his chest.

"See," he pushed himself off the hull and took a step closer, "these are all terms that we should have discussed before I agreed to this job. All the little extras you seem to want, how much that'll affect my crew's cut of the payoff, who we're working for—"

"You're working for me," Thalia cut him off to respond.

"Then who are you working for?" Eddie asked sharply, and then sucked a breath in through his teeth. "Oh, sorry, is that 'need to know' too?"

Thalia's mouth snapped shut with a click of her teeth and she exhaled sharply out of her nose.

"As a matter of fact, it is," she replied after a beat.

"And you're gonna pay me not to ask about that either, right?"

"Sure am."

"Fine."

"Alright," Merg clapped her hands, ignorant of the glaring contest Eddie and Thalia were engaged in. "She's all loaded up. All of the forms are in order. That is to say...the forms don't exist."

There was another beat of silence, and an unexpected twitch in the corner of Eddie's eye, then Thalia broke eye contact and turned to the Theelin.

"Thanks for everything," she said gratefully. "You guys know it means the world to me when you help me out in a pinch."

"Thanks for having extra credits when you're in a pinch," Merg winked. She looked over at Eddie. "You take care of our girl, huh Moonsun? I know we're pals now, but I don't want to have to put a bounty on your head."

Merg turned on her heel and walked back to her ship with the wave of a hand as a farewell.

Eddie folded his arms across his chest and took another step closer to Thalia.

"What did she mean, 'take care of our girl?'" he asked, almost afraid of the answer

"It means exactly what you think it means," Thalia snorted. "Don't let anything happen to me. Or the cargo. But, mostly me; Merg is very protective."

"And why would good ol' Merg think I have anything to do with protecting you?" Eddie narrowed his eyes at her, but she simply smiled innocently.

Condescendingly.

"Listen, lady," Eddie started. "I don't know who you think you are, but you were not a part of this deal. None of this was a part of this deal. My crew and I are smuggling cargo for you. Suddenly we're not supposed to know what it is or who wants it? Fine. But this is where I draw the line. So get your cute little uniform back on and get on a Star Tours flight straight to Coruscant if you want to meet us there. You are not setting foot on my ship. And don't you dare say you'll pay extra. There aren't enough credits in the galaxy."

"You didn't just agree to this job Eddie," Thalia spat at him. "You agreed to help me, and helping me means that that container doesn't get within a parsec of me. So I'm coming aboard your ship, whether you like it or not."

"You can't just keep adding new terms to the job because you feel like it," Eddie argued.

He was about to call his friends and tell them to off-load the container when Thalia grabbed his arm to stop him again.

But he shook her off.

He was done with her manipulative tactics, her little mind tricks. The touching and the pleading and the you're-my-only-hope. His crew might fold at the prospect of credits and a round of drinks and a pretty face, but he wouldn't. Not this time. He was the captain, this was his business, this was how he made sure he and his friends had a future...especially when the future of the galaxy seemed so grim.

"I don't know who you think I am," he snarled at Thalia. "But I'm not some rookie who's gonna let himself get walked on. And if that's the kind of service you want your highness, then I'm not the kind of smuggler you're looking for."

"You're the only smuggler I trust," she insisted.

"Trust? You don't even know me, how can you trust me? How did you even hear about me?"

"Word of mouth? Holonet? Does it really matter?" She shook her head. "But we're here now. The cargo is already loaded. Everything is set. So what's gonna get me on that ship with that container and en route to Coruscant?"

What could he say to get her to give up? A million credits? Two? But that desperation…he almost felt bad—almost—that he was gonna take a Star Tours flight attendant for all the credits she was worth. However, he knew that she wasn't just some innocent little flight attendant. She was a con artist, a criminal. Just like he was.

"I want 80% of the cut," he demanded.

There was some hesitation at first—and to be honest, Eddie thought that was such a ridiculous number that she’d simply tell him no—but eventually Thalia nodded.

"Done.”

His eyebrows jumped in surprise and he continued.

"And I'm there when you meet this mysterious benefactor you're so intent on keeping secret. That way I know I'm not getting screwed over."

"Sure. Fine. Next."

What else? What else?

"I call the shots from here on out," he continued. "No more secret and sudden demands I don't know about. I'm the captain for a reason."

He couldn't control the smirk that formed on his lips as he watched her jaw clench at that.

"What about—" she started but he cut her off.

"Ah, ah. There's no 'what abouts.' I'm the captain. You said you trust me. Then trust me. And I'll trust you."

"Then I need a failsafe," she insisted. "Some kind of clause in case you muck up the whole job. Like if the Empire does find that container."

"They won't."

"But if they do."

There was an edge to her voice, a nervousness, that put him on edge.

"They won't," Eddie repeated. "But if they do. If something happens and nothing goes horribly wrong, like the ship blowing up or something like that, then our cut goes down to 50%. Not just zero. If you're so afraid of the Empire, then that means my crew and I are taking a big risk here; 50% that's my failsafe."

Thalia looked like she wanted to say something else.

In fact, he could practically hear some of her grumbled words in his head; it wasn't a stretch to imagine, he'd heard it all before.

Instead, she sighed and held out her hand.

"Deal," she said reluctantly.

Eddie grinned, slapped his hand into hers, and shook. Then, once her grip loosened, he pulled her into the crook of his arm and gestured to the loading ramp.

"Then Miss Trieste, welcome aboard the Dragonborn."

Next Chapter: Episode 3: I've Got a Bad Feeling About This (Coming 2/18 at 7PM CST)

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