#Yellow Spring Road

[rrrick]

[batmanbeyondrocks]

Credit: Destination ✈︎ Travel ✈︎ Hotels@destination

Music Factory•Mary On A Cross (Speed Up) (Remix)

[dimalink]

I dream about a leaves like autumn. Or about something close. And it is almost in summer, it happened. In a last day of May, I was walking the city. And I see a thing, I want. Yellow leaves, such a little yellow leaves at the asphalt. I dream a long time about such photos. It is awesome, that such close to autumn fragment, it was found in very end of spring.

Stairs is rather big. And it leads somewhere forward. It is there, by the way, a little forest. With lots of trees. There are singing birds there. So, it is a stairs portal. In a new location. Out of the city. In the little forest. Stairs is rather long. And by corners there are leaves there. So, it is such a place.

[shutterandsentence]

"Blessed are those who have not seen and yet still believed."

--John 20:29

Photo: Asheville, North Carolina

[aquamarine-dream-queen]

Spring Break in Oz Day 3: Yellow Brick Road

Just follow the Yellow Brick Road, bring some friends and you'll be at the Emerald City in no time!

[thepaperbagqueen]

You only have to follow the yellow road 🟡💛✨💫

[adventurealldays]

[ashtonfei]

THE SPRING

[heyimkana]

I HAVE COME UP WITH AN ASK!

Ahem- so husband jin-woo and reader goes out on a date (before they have any kids). Reader loves cats so whenever she sees a cat, she runs after it and coos at it.

At some point, jin-woo would say "I'm not scared of her cheating on me, I'm worried about her running after a cat and never coming back home again" (cause reader sucks at directions- totally not talking bout myself who got lost multiple times)

WAIT JULIET THAT'S SO CUTE AAAA LISTEN I HAVE A SCENE

okay another drabble for Husband Jinwoo from Pillow Talk

So, this happened a while back when you were still engaged, like maybe a few months before you got married. Jinwoo took you to Japan for a nice little unplanned trip. It was at the beginning of spring, the sakura trees were blooming, and sure, they had those in Korea too but they just hit differently in Japan.

You enjoyed the scenery together, walking down a street lined with sakura trees. Jinwoo walked a couple of steps behind you just so he could revel in the sight of you looking so gorgeous with your hair swaying in the wind and cherry blossom petals fluttering around you. Whenever you turned around to toss a smile over your shoulder, he felt like he was falling for you all over again. He took a few secret pictures of you without you knowing and he used it as his wallpaper whenever he was away on a long mission (he's embarrassing).

Anyway, that day, as the two of you strolled down this beautiful road, Jinwoo spotted a food stall that sold your favorite dessert. He wanted to make it a surprise so he told you to sit on a bench and wait for him as he went to buy you some. You nodded and watched him leave.

You got distracted, however, when a black cat appeared before you. Instead of having yellow eyes, this one had blue eyes and it was so rare and it looked so pretty, you couldn't help but follow it with your gaze. You thought the cat looked like Jinwoo in a way, especially the way it just stared at you, kind of coldly at first, but then it circled your leg, rubbing its fur on your skin, purring. Yes, it was definitely the cat version of him.

You wanted to pet it and held onto it until Jinwoo returned so you could show it to him. And at first, the cat curled up on your lap but after hearing something, its ears perked up curiously and it jumped off your thighs. You followed it before you realized what you were doing. You thought you wouldn't stray too far.

As the cat began to walk faster with its little feet, you started to pick up the pace too. "Hey, wait!" The cat wasn't stopping. If anything, it ran faster, taking turns here and there and by the time you looked back, you realized you had no idea how to return to the street you were in before. You got separated from him all because you were busy chasing down a cat. Again.

To your horror, that damn cat was about to cross a road filled with passing cars. Without thinking, you reached out to stop it, managing to scoop it up in your arms but you lost your balance while doing so and you toppled forward. You were about to land face-first on the ground. A passing car was about to hit you, and with how fast it was going, it could've been fatal if you weren't suddenly pulled back by two strong hands.

The next time you blinked your eyes open, you were back in Jinwoo's embrace. Half of his body was still enveloped by these familiar misty black tendrils, meaning that he just used shadow exchange to swap position with the shadow he placed on you to save you just in time.

"J-Jinwoo—" Your heart was racing. You wanted to apologize for running off without telling him, but he wasn't looking down at you. He kept his gaze on the car that almost ran you over before. It had stopped abruptly because of you and the driver stepped out, cussing at you furiously in a language you didn't understand. You could tell what his message was, though. He was definitely calling you an idiot.

The man stopped, however, when he saw the way Jinwoo was looking at him. Your fiancee didn't say anything, didn't move a muscle, but he managed to drain all colors from the man's face by his presence alone. The driver bowed his head in apology several times before he ran back to his car and drove away.

Only then did Jinwoo finally look at you, his gaze heavy on your face and he was silent.

You swallowed. Jinwoo rarely got angry. If anything, he'd never gotten angry with you before, not like this. Even the black cat was beginning to whimper softly in your arms, terrified of him. It jumped away from your hold once more, but this time, you let it go.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Jin—"

"Don't be sorry if you're just going to repeat it again. I don't want your apology. I want you to be better."

It struck you how cold he sounded and needless to say, it ruined all the pleasant, romantic atmosphere that shrouded you before. Jinwoo stood tall, towering above you, watching you lose your words with anger, disappointment, and relief all swirling into one in his eyes. Without saying another line, he handed you a box of the dessert he just bought—a couple of slices of your favorite cheesecake, topped with whipped cream—and he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, dragging you back to the hotel.

Jinwoo was quiet, and the silence between you was deafening. He didn't mean to give you a silent treatment, it was just... He was trying to calm himself down first before he said anything, not wanting to hurt you with his tone or the words he didn't mean to say. He stood under the warm shower mulling to himself, thinking how easily he could've lost you back then if he had been a second too late.

When you saw him walking out of the bathroom dressed in jeans and a black shirt, ready to get dinner with you, you couldn't bear it any longer. With an uneasy heart, you hugged him from behind, your arms winding around his waist. "I'm sorry... I was an idiot. Please don't be mad at me, I can't stand it."

Honestly, he was the same, but how many times had it happened already? Why wouldn't you learn your lesson? He didn't turn around to face you just yet, but he caressed your hand. "You can't keep doing this to me, Angel. Do you know how worried I was when I returned to the bench and I didn't see you there? Thank God, I put a shadow on you but what if I didn't?"

"I'm sorry..."

"You could've been killed."

"I know." Your voice grew quieter and quieter, heavy with guilt.

Jinwoo sighed, finally turning around to face you. He gathered your face in his hands, his thumb stroking your cheek, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't lose you, all right? I don't know what I'd do without you."

You softly smiled, angling your face slightly to press a soothing kiss on his palm. "I don't know what I'd do without you, too. So don't give me the cold shoulder, okay? I'm gonna cry if you keep doing it."

He rolls his eyes at your pouty lips despite enjoying your cute act. "Maybe you should. I'm still angry, you know. Seeing you cry will probably melt my heart a little." His lips curve into a smirk, his fingers slightly pinching your cheek. "You look the prettiest when you're like that, after all."

"I'm starting to think you're a bit of a sadist."

"Never said I wasn't." As his smirk widened, Jinwoo hauled your body over his shoulder, stealing a yelp out of you. He tossed you down to the bed, spreading your legs and settling himself in between. "You know what men like me do to a disobedient little girl like you?" he asked as he pulled his black shirt over his head, the muscles in his abdomen rippled with his movement.

You gulped, your body tensing as you felt his hand pushing up your dress, his mouth placed hot and wet on every inch of skin he exposed. "W-we get... punished?"

"Usually, yes," he said, his voice so pleasantly deep and husky by the time he reached your ear. "You've been very naughty today but I still feel like treating my princess tonight. We're on a vacation right now, aren't we? We should make the best of it while it lasts." He licked a stripe up your neck, tasting your skin. "I was planning to take you out to a nice dinner, but..." He stopped, glancing at the nightstand.

You followed his gaze, your eyes landing on a plate filled with the cheesecake he'd bought you before. It was still fresh and untouched as you didn't feel like eating it before, not with the mood you were in back then. You returned your gaze to him, seeing him smile down at you, mischief shimmering in his eyes.

He reached out, coating his two fingers thickly with whipped cream. "How about we start with some dessert, Sweetheart?" Jinwoo asked as he smeared the cream over your lips. Your eyes widened, your breath caught in your throat as he leaned down and swiped his tongue across your lips. His kiss, the slow, delicate glide of his tongue, his low, soft moan, everything was so sensual, it caused your stomach to somersault in response.

He pulled away, his tongue running over his own bottom lip as he relished the aftertaste. His gaze was still fixated on your mouth, hazy with lust. There was a gleam in his eyes, one that said he'd be proud if you obeyed his command.

He scooped another bit of cream, his voice turning more dominant and possessive when he said—

[unboundprompts]

prompts for spring, summer, autumn, winter eyes! (The characters literally stand for each season!! They have eyes that hold the seasons)

Different Ways to Describe Seasonal Eyes

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Spring

He had eyes like the fields of the pastures, green grass nearly up to your knees.

Her eyes were the flower beds that his mother used to prepare when spring finally arrived after a cold winter. Flowers would bloom and blossom in every color imaginable.

Their eyes were like the honey from the honeybees that arrived with the promise of spring.

Summer

Her eyes were a babbling brook, like crisp water on a warm day.

He had eyes that blazed like a hot summer sun.

Their eyes were warm rays and beach days, filled with laughter and freedom.

Autumn

She had eyes the color of the dying leaves, painted red, yellow, and brown.

His eyes were a winding road on a foggy morning, dying branches scratching at the edge.

Their eyes were of burnt out candles, pumpkins placed on doorsteps, and footsteps splashed in puddles on an old street.

Winter

His eyes were snowflakes, irises decorated with a delicate design.

She had eyes like icy mountains and falling snow.

Their eyes were a crisp breeze in the dead of winter, a frozen pond on a stagnant afternoon.

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[elleloquently]

too little, never late [ 1 ] : ellie williams

" can you see me? i'm waiting for the right time

i can't read you but if you want, the pleasure's all mine "

series masterlist

───⋆☆───────

ellie williams x female reader | college au - best friend!ellie

───⋆☆───────

| a/n - here it is!! decided to abandon my lowercase thing for this fic, not sure why but it felt right lmao. comments, reblogs, and asks ab this are so encouraged and appreciated <3 excited ab this one, hope you guys are toooo | c/w - warnings for the entire series are listed in the masterlist. a bit of exposition here. reader is vaguely indicated to be girly i guess and closeted (sorry!!!) switching between past/present tense is very much on purpose / intended!!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

It was hard to pick your favorite season on campus.

During move in every year, at the end of summer, the air felt full of promise. The music was loud from passing by cars, the bars especially crowded during syllabus week.

Winter was pretty, too, with the string lights that adorned the town and the ice skating rink that was put up downtown. It was easy to blow dining dollars on the hot chocolate and donut truck that was always posted nearby.

There was spring, when all of the campus greenery started to bloom. It felt like tradition for all classes to be skipped on that first warm day every year, the campus green filled with hammocks and picnic blankets.

But fall.

Campus felt like it was made for fall.

The sun was still warm, but the leaves were turning. It was the perfect time, the colors still bright and vivid, the brief window before they faded to brown.

Pumpkins would be placed strategically within the decorative flower gardens, a last chance for beauty and atmosphere before everything died for the winter. Come October, the statue of the university mascot would be decorated in a different costume each week, leading up to Halloween.

September was just a little bit perfect.

The warmth from summer still lingered, the promise and anticipation of the upcoming semester evident in the atmosphere. Still, there was an indication of fall. The trees were green and yellow and orange and some strange colors in between. People were already planning their Halloween costumes. Something about the sunshine this time of year always felt different. Looked a little more beautiful, maybe.

"It looks like the early 2000's here. On this street," You mumbled, stepping carefully over the curb as you gripped tighter onto the brown paper bag in your arms.

"The fuck does that mean?" Your best friend snorted from beside you, shooting you a sidelong glance.

Your eyebrows knit together immediately as you catch Ellie's glance, her pale green eyes giving you a once over. Still, you defended your observation.

"It looks like a trick or treating street," you mumbled, your sight following along the sidewalk. Leaves were already starting to fall, littering the sidewalk.

"Like how it would look when you were a kid. Reminds me of Halloweentown," you explained lightly, continuing to walk back to campus.

Paper grocery bags in hand, you were making the short journey back to campus after venturing into town. Ellie would have driven, easily, but you always preferred the walk. It was only a matter of minutes, anyway. Besides, parking downtown on a Sunday was shitty to navigate.

You didn't mind living in a college town, as opposed to some universities that existed in the middle of a big city. After growing up in the small town of Jackson, you didn't mind being in a bubble.

"Good movie," Ellie muttered, seemingly more concentrated on crossing the final busy road before you would be back on the campus pathing.

It did remind you of Halloweentown, stupidly enough. It was the first thing you had said several years ago, when yourself and Ellie had stepped off of the school bus and saw a college campus in real life for the first time.

It had been a school field trip during the fall of sophomore year of highschool. Chaperoned by several teachers and a few worrisome parents, the school had organized a weekend long college tour, an attempt at getting students excited about higher education.

Back then, you had felt smitten with the university for stupid, insignificant reasons. The aesthetic being one of them, though you would be hard pressed to deny the fact that the way in which campus looked definitely played a part in your deciding factor. The drive-in movie theater that was five minutes away from campus was a nice selling point, too.

Still, it had felt cool at the time, learning about everything that the possibility of college had to offer.

Choir was still a thing in college, who knew? And you could major in art? Your chosen extracurriculars during that time period had been just that. You were in the high school choir, and Ellie had joined the art club. You had considered joining the art club too, just because you were jealous. At the end of the year, they got to go on a trip to some cool place with a lot of museums.

You never did end up joining, though, and had been unreasonably pissed when Ellie had been gone for two days, out of state. You got your payback the next year, when the choir had gotten to go to Disney and Ellie was left in Jackson, waiting for you to come home.

Now, art was just a hobby for Ellie, and the idea of auditioning to join a college choir felt laughable. Even so, when the time came to start seriously thinking about the idea of college, Ellie couldn't quite shake the memory of how everything in her had lit up at the sight of the university planetarium when she was younger. Soon after, Ellie had learned about astrophysics.

You hadn't planned to attend the same college, but it was certainly a perk. The small things that caught your interest during that first college tour had turned into a real curiosity once junior year of highschool had hit. Turns out, the school had a lot of really good programs. The departments for your desired majors were highly rated. Tuition rates were good, which was even better. Besides. Campus was gorgeous.

You had started imagining it, thinking about it, whispering about the possibility during late night sleepovers. When it was decision season, you were both on edge. It's not like you were applying to an Ivy, but it was the future. Who wouldn't be a little freaked out? The idea of one of you getting in and not the other was humiliating and nerve wracking.

It was thrilling, then, tearing open your letters together with shaky hands in the privacy of Ellie's bedroom. It had been a damn near stealth mission trying to get to the mail before your parents or Joel got to it first.

Joel was more easy going, attempting to hide his concern and curiosity between casual questions and glances, knowing a letter should have been arriving any day. Your parents, on the other hand, had been hounding you relentlessly. But yourself and Ellie wanted the moment to yourselves, alone. So that's what you had done.

You had checked the mail multiple times a day, your heart dropping to your stomach once you finally received the letter. Instantly it was shoved into your overnight bag before you had peddled to Ellie's, your bike wheels turning faster than ever before.

Ellie had looked like a kid again when you had opened the letters, shrieking and falling back onto her bed as you clutched each other's hands, the relief palpable as you read that you were both accepted.

"We should watch it," you suggest, turning your head. Your gaze fixed upon Ellie, focused on the strand of hair that falls over her face. Her hands are full, so she halfheartedly attempts to blow it away.

"Huh? Yeah, sure," Ellie replied, appearing as though she doesn't really know what she's replying to.

Someone on a skateboard is zipping by, their trail quick and unpredictable. You don't notice that you're nearly in their path, your focus on Ellie. Ellie nudges you with her elbow, pressing you out of the way.

"Wait, can't. There's some guest speaker lecture tonight and Dina gets extra credit for one of her classes if she.. Asshole," Ellie cuts herself off, mumbling under her breath. She glared at the inconsiderate skater, moving closer to your side.

"-If she goes to it. I promised I'd go with her," Ellie finished, adjusting her grip on the paper bag in her hands.

The bag crinkles as Ellie's hands grip onto it tighter. It was nearly stuffed to the brim, and the one that you were holding onto wasn't any different. You were slightly worried that they would split and rip before you even made it back to your apartment.

The grocery shop had been necessary, but the items were not. Yourself and Ellie had ventured to the Natural Foods store downtown, throwing any item that looked cool or weird into the cart without a second thought. It was the type of store that would still require you to go to a real grocery store after the fact, leaving you lacking despite the money you had already spent.

"Oh, right. I forgot that it was tonight. What's the lecture about?" You questioned, feeling both totally fine and not fine at all at Ellie's response.

"No clue," Ellie grinned, shaking her head slightly. "Friend of the year. I'm not even the one getting extra credit."

A huff of laughter falls from your lips as you spare a glance at Ellie, not allowing your gaze to linger. It was always so easy to fall into step together, like the two of you were naturally in sync.

"You're coming, right?" Ellie asked then, drawing a shrug out of you.

"Umm, I'm not really sure. I still really need to like, study and stuff. Plus, when Dina told me about it, I didn't want to just assume that I wa-"

"I just assumed you would be going," Ellie clarified, her words coming out a little too quickly. "I mean, we all did."

You pretended to think about it for a moment, but you already knew that you would give in.

Attending some special event lecture wasn't exactly your ideal Sunday evening. You spent enough hours of your week crammed into a lecture hall already, fidgeting in your seat and watching the seconds tick by on a clock while simultaneously rushing to take notes. Besides, you really did have to study. And you didn't even know what the event was for, or what the lecture was about.

But Ellie would be there. And your other friends. And you always did have some weird thing about missing out. Even if it was just a lecture.

"I'll go," You said decidedly, barely catching Ellie's gaze before she pulled her eyes away from your own.

As your apartment building came into view, you found your steps quickening. The walk had been nice, but you knew that you were both sick of carrying the bags by now.

Your apartment was one that belonged to the university. Since it was a campus apartment building, it wasn't quite as great as the others around town. They were essentially glorified dorms. But financial aid had paid for the majority of it, so you wouldn't complain. Or, just not often, at least.

"Cool," Ellie mumbled, her posture relaxing a little.

In an instant, Ellie's hand is reaching out to the bag that you're holding as soon as a small tear forms at the bottom of the brown paper.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

"We need to leave soon."

"I know."

"We really need to leave soon."

"I know," Ellie grumbled, a soft huff escaping her. She turned over in your bed, eyeing you with an expression that could only be described as a slight glare.

You met her eyes from where you were sat at your desk, twisted around in your chair to look at her. Ellie was laying in your bed, with her head on your pillow and your throw blanket wrapped haphazardly around her. It wasn't a new sight in the slightest, and neither was the uncomfortable feeling that it prompted in the pit of your stomach.

You confused it with annoyance, sometimes. Or discomfort.

Even so, it was normal for the two of you to share a sleeping space, or to feel just as at home in the other person's bed. After all, you had been best friends for years now.

There had only been a brief period when it had been weird, only because Ellie had made it so.

It had been junior year of highschool. Ellie had dated a girl for a couple of months, and promptly stopped sharing the bed with you during sleepovers. It had been annoying at the time, and completely ridiculous. You tended to get defensive about it, insisting that it was always normal for the two of you to share a bed.

Your arguments were unwavering, because why was it suddenly strange for two best friends to share a bed? Ellie would only grumble in response, insisting that it was different.

Their relationship didn't last long. The usual sleepover routine promptly resumed after.

"You literally only come over to nap," you accused, turning back towards your desk to glance in your mirror.

"Shut up. That's not true," Ellie huffs defensively. She sits up as if to prove her point, shoving your favorite stuffed animal away from her. You catch the action in your mirror, an automatic frown pulling your lips downward.

"What else am I supposed to do? You take forever anyway, Jesus," Ellie continued, and the action of mumbling her defenses under her breath seems to be more for herself than for your sake.

"You could get ready, too," you suggest, only because you know that it would annoy her further.

"I am ready?" Ellie's eyebrows knit together, her gaze fixed upon your reflection in the mirror. She looks confused instead of irritated, and you feel just a little guilty. If you were closer to her, you would attempt to swipe away her slight frown with your thumb.

"I'm kidding," you soften, because it was impossible not to around your best friend. Your eyes meet hers in the mirror, and the smile that you offer her is small. It's still hot outside, but Ellie is wearing a gray hoodie that you're almost certain she will never let go of.

"Are you gonna be too warm?" Your gaze flicks around the items cluttering your desk before you shift in your chair again, giving Ellie a once over.

Ellie shakes her head, rolling her eyes despite the way in which the corners of her lips faintly twitch upwards. "I'll be fine. Those lecture halls are always cold as shit, anyway."

Ellie's response raises a good point, so you're quickly moving away from your desk and towards your closet instead. Ellie opens her mouth to speak, but the sound of a text tone coming from your phone interrupts her.

"Check it please," you instruct in a mutter, rifling through your cardigans and hoodies.

Ellie automatically obliges, pulling herself away from your bed and carefully moving towards your desk to retrieve your phone. "Dina wants to know if we're meeting up at the event or before... Why the hell is she texting you?"

"Why wouldn't she be texting me?" Your response is immediate as you frown at a sweatshirt. It's faded and worn, but that almost made it better. You had gotten it as a souvenir from a planetarium trip with Ellie and Joel.

Ellie registers the change in your tone instantly, glancing at you instead of at your phone. "No, I mean- Did you even tell her that you were going?"

"You said everyone assumed-"

"But you never confirmed-"

"She probably just knows we're together." You turned to face Ellie, shooting her a pointed look while holding the sweatshirt against your chest.

Apparently, Ellie wasn't great about answering texts. That wasn't your experience, but you had heard Jesse and Dina complain about it enough times to assume. "Have you even bothered to check your phone?" 

"Shit," Ellie mumbled, reaching to fish her phone out from the pocket of her jeans. She hadn't checked her phone in a few hours, probably. The look that crosses Ellie's features though, indicated that Dina hadn't even bothered to reach out to her first.

Your lips quirked upwards as you watched her, rolling your eyes. "Just tell her we'll meet them there." You turn back towards your closet, contemplating your options.

Ellie's gaze lingers on you for a moment before she shakes her head, turning her attention back to your phone. Her own phone is replaced back into her pocket before she slides into your desk chair, grabbing your phone carefully in her grasp. The screen lights up, flashing Ellie with a picture of your lock screen.

The picture was just a little blurry. Dina had been the one to take it. You all had gone to a concert about a year ago, which gives reason to the dark background of the picture. You were grinning wildly, Ellie's arm slung around your shoulders as she wrinkled her nose at the camera.

Ellie simply looked at the photo for a moment, before remembering why she was even holding your phone in the first place. You hear Ellie swear under her breath, but you don't bother to look this time.

It was muscle memory as Ellie entered your password, unlocking your phone. She navigated her way to your messages with Dina, her fingers pausing briefly on the screen before she typed.

you

we'll meet you there

Ellie thinks for a moment, her lips twitching briefly as she added an additional text, an obvious indicator to Dina that it was not you that was responding, but Ellie.

you

dick

Your phone sounds again as Ellie is still holding it, the response from Dina being immediate.

dina ✩

you never answer your phone!!!

Ellie scoffs, but can't suppress the grin that appears on her lips at Dina instantly knowing that it was her. Ellie's next response is a quick one.

you

🖕

dina ✩

🫶

"What are you doing?" Ellie questioned, tearing her eyes away from your phone as you draw her attention once more.

You paused momentarily, holding the strap of your bag in your hand. "I'm gonna take my notes," You admitted, chucking the sweatshirt at Ellie before stepping towards your desk. "I wasn't joking. I like... Really need to study."

Ellie clumsily caught the sweatshirt with her free hand, snorting at your response. "Bullshit."

"It's not," you denied, rolling your eyes. Ellie's gaze followed your hands as you rifled through binders and books on your desk, fingers dancing around cosmetic products that were also currently littering your desk.

Ellie gently sat your phone down, reaching for a bottle of nail polish. The color was familiar, as it was the one you were currently wearing. You had painted them just a few days ago. Ellie knew because she had been with you, and the nail of her pinky finger was painted the same color to prove it.

Ellie never really painted her nails by her own volition, but she usually let you paint them whenever you had asked. The color was a bit glittery this time, and Ellie opted for a pinky.

"So should I say that we're gonna be late, or?" Ellie questioned, her eyebrows raising slightly as she continued to watch you.

"We're not. I'm ready, see?" You pull a textbook away from the pile, waving it at Ellie. She swatted at the book, rolling her eyes in response. It was a habit she never seemed to shake, one that you seemed to mirror quite often.

It's a cue when you shove your textbook into your bag, and Ellie pushed out an exhale. "Yeah yeah, I see," she mumbles, standing up from the desk chair.

The sweatshirt is placed back into your hands after you hoist the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, your smile nearly impossible to bite back at Ellie's mumbling.

"Let's go though, before we actually are late. Seriously, Ellie. You take forever to get ready." Your tone is dry but the amusement at your own joke is evident by your expression.

Ellie practically scowls, reaching out to swat at you once more. "You're the worst, you know that?"

Ellie's half hearted movement is easily dodged, and you couldn't decide between feigning offense or giving her a hard time.

"You love me," you decided to say, and that seemingly shuts Ellie up.

Ellie eyed you for a moment, but her response lacks any weight. "Whatever. Don't forget your dumb key again."

"Oh my G- That was one time," you defended, leaving Ellie to trail after you as you turned on your heel, an indication of your exit.

"Yeah, one time too many." Ellie's voice lowered slightly as you both stepped into the hallway, turning around the corner and heading for the elevator. "You called me at almost like, two in the morning."

You nearly winced at Ellie's words, an awkward grimace-like-smile appearing on your face. She was right, anyway. But it had only been one time.

It was towards the end of the spring semester last year. Of course, you hadn't remembered your key until it was too late, arriving at your door after a night out with Dina without any way to get inside.

Instinctively, you had called Ellie. It had been late and you were humiliated, not wanting to bother anyone in your building until morning. Ellie had shown up for you in under fifteen minutes, not even pretending to be annoyed because she could tell by your voice on the phone that you had felt awful.

The impromptu sleepover had been nice, though. Carefully spaced apart in Ellie's bed, the two of you had scrolled through your photos and videos dating back to the first year that you had met until you had eventually fallen asleep, phones dropping limply against the blankets.

"Shut up," you mumbled weakly, face warming slightly at the memory of your embarrassment. "We had fun that night."

"Yeah, we did," Ellie relents with a grin.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

It had taken nearly twenty minutes to walk to the building that the event was being held in. By the time you had actually made it, the sky was growing dark.

You weren't entirely familiar with the building. You knew that most of Dina's classes were held here though, so you could only assume that the event had something to do with that. It would make sense, considering the whole extra credit ordeal.

You were slightly anxious that the two of you actually were going to be late, but the sight of a crowd in the lobby instantly eased your worries.

You spotted Jesse first, due to his height.

"There." You nudged Ellie's arm with your own, causing her to follow your gaze. Ellie nodded and so you grasped the sleeve of her hoodie, leading her towards your friends.

Dina soon came into view, as well as someone else that you didn't recognize.

"You guys are the best," Dina gushed instantly, throwing her arms around yourself and Ellie in greeting.

"You didn't say that to me when I got here," Jesse frowned, raising an eyebrow at Dina once she pulled away.

"Oh please." Dina rolls her eyes, but it's lighthearted. "You're the best for driving me," she tells her boyfriend. Jesse laughs at her easy response, shaking his head before bumping his fist against Ellie's shoulder in greeting.

Ellie wrinkled her nose, jerking her shoulder away from Jesse. It was crazy how such tiny things could manage to transport you back through time.

It almost felt like the beat of your heart faltered once Ellie met your gaze, her expression instantly changing into an amused smile instead.

She had these mannerisms that were so Ellie, unchanging despite the time that had passed. You had tried to describe it to her before, but she just didn't get it.

Even so, the way that she looked at you now, as though you were both a part of some inside joke or something, threw you back to freshman year of high school.

That had been the year that the two of you had met.

Since Jackson was a relatively small town, having a new kid start in your class wasn't exactly a frequent thing. Whenever it did happen, it always ended the same way. Within a week, the new kid would always end up being integrated into an already existing group, the number of friends associated with each other being more than you would certainly ever have in a lifetime.

It was a consistent track record, so you almost didn't think anything of it when an unfamiliar girl was assigned to sit next to you in biology.

You had been feeling pretty bleak about starting high school. The friends that you had been closest to throughout middle school had changed over the summer. There was nothing wrong with the concept in general, but it hadn't been a good type of change.

Starting freshman year with little to no friends didn't exactly give you the most optimistic start.

But then, entered Ellie.

Auburn hair, shuffling feet, and a book bag adorned with space themed pins.

You had told yourself it was your anxiety, the way in which your cheeks had burned when Ellie had been instructed to take the empty seat next to you. Admittedly, you had been a little shy, forcing yourself to stare straight ahead without sparing her a glance. But then, you were worried about seeming rude. On the other hand, the probability of a potential new friend was slim. You knew how these things usually went.

It was stupid, really, the thing that made you even speak to her in the first place. But you were grateful for it.

While reaching for a fallen pencil under the table, your eyes had drifted to Ellie's shoes, a pair of red Converse. It's not like it was an uncommon choice, but something about it had caused you to feel a flicker of camaraderie. You had been wearing Converse too, only in black.

As you straightened up in your chair, pencil in hand, you found the words leaving your mouth before you could think it over.

"I like your shoes," you had said, seemingly catching Ellie slightly off guard.

She had only blinked at you for a moment before glancing down at her shoes, which led her to notice your own. "Oh, hey. I like yours too," Ellie had responded.

You didn't normally just start conversations like that, but Ellie wouldn't have known any better at the time.

Hushed conversations at your shared table in the back of the science classroom turned into seeking each other out in the cafeteria, which turned into begging for sleepovers on the weekend.

You learned a lot about the girl that had moved from Boston to Jackson, and she had learned a lot about you, too.

The two of you were quickly inseparable.

You would scrounge up whatever coins you could find, hauling them to the arcade at the nearest mall. Ellie had begged Joel for a bike for Christmas, purely so she could ride around town with you. You would press bandaids on each other's knees, scraped up from whenever you laughed entirely too hard and closed your eyes while steering, or from Ellie trying to knock you off of your bike as a joke, causing her to internally panic when she had actually succeeded.

The entirety of your friendship was captured in photo strips and homemade birthday cards. The first time you had ever used the photo booth at the arcade, all of the photos came out looking nearly identical because you couldn't stop grinning to make any other expression or pose. For the final photo, you had managed to throw up a peace sign, prompting Ellie to stick up her middle finger at the camera.

Luckily, the photo had been snapped before you gasped, your eyes widening at Ellie. It wasn't a big deal in the slightest, but your parents were... Strict. Your sleepovers typically happened at Ellie and Joel's.

You had whined at Ellie, complaining that there was no way that you could hang up the photos in your room now. Ellie tore the bottom photo off in response, keeping the middle finger picture for herself and leaving you with the rest. You had both hung them up in your rooms.

Joel was essentially another parent to you. He adored you, evident in the way in which he had called you sweetheart, prompting a bewildered expression from Ellie and a delayed moment of her howling with laughter. But really, he adored the way in which Ellie had so quickly found a friend after the move, and how her face always lit up whenever she talked about you. He didn't even mind that she seemed to spend more time on her phone, always knowing that it was you that she was texting. 

Despite how comfortable you always found it to be at Ellie and Joel's house, there wasn't the exact level of comfortability at your own. There were just a few things that your parents didn't know about Ellie. But that was okay. Anything to keep up the sleepovers, to keep up your parents allowing Ellie to join you on weekend trips and vacations.

When Ellie's birthday had rolled around in the spring, the pressure was on. It's not like you had much money to even spend at that age, but in the span of a few months, Ellie had quickly become the most important person in your life. You wanted to do something nice for her, even if your realistic capabilities didn't exactly match your personal standards.

The gift ended up being a small pack of space pins, new ones to add to her collection. A few of them were designed to look like different planets, while one of them looked like a little rocket. In addition to the pins, you had made Ellie a birthday card, the colored construction paper being filled with sappy paragraphs of friendship, memories, and promises.

Years later, Ellie obviously no longer used the same bag from freshman year of high school. She still had the pins, though, and they were attached to the bag that she used for school now.

Jesse's voice gained your attention, and Ellie ignored the twinge of disappointment that she felt when your smile was pulled away from her, and instead directed towards the stranger that Jesse was now introducing the both of you to.

Ellie attempted to listen, focusing her attention on the stranger, Connor. She had heard Jesse briefly mention him before in passing, but it never seemed like they were actually friends. They had met the previous year, and shared a class together now. That was the extent of Ellie's knowledge.

"Hey," Ellie mumbled with a slight nod, admittedly more focused on the way in which you were fidgeting with the strap of your bag that was over your shoulder.

"Are you good?" Dina questioned, raising her eyebrows in amusement as she watched you at Ellie's side.

You nodded, just barely getting to respond before suddenly Connor was addressing you.

"Where are you coming from?" Connor asked, focusing his eyes on you.

"What?" You were a little caught off guard, not grasping the meaning of his question.

"Where are you coming from?"

"Oh. Um, my apartment?" You blinked at him, before realizing his curiosity must've been piqued by your bag. "Oh. No, I just like... Need to study," you responded, your words fumbled and awkward.

"Dedicated to your classes, I respect that," Connor responded, his smile growing slightly.

Ellie resisted the urge to scoff. Dedicated to your classes? Yeah, maybe. Knowing that you'd have a stomach ache due to anxiety all night if you didn't at least attempt to study? That was more likely.

You mumbled something in response, a forced laugh exiting your lips as Jesse and Dina genuinely laughed. They knew you well enough, anyway. They knew your effort was practically a futile one.

When you looked at Ellie, she made a face that indicated that she wanted to roll her eyes, but was holding back. It almost made you laugh, too.

The light conversations continued as the five of you made your way into the auditorium once the doors had finally opened. The room was actually pretty full, and Ellie couldn't help but wonder how many people were actually interested in the event, and how many had shown up because they shared a major with Dina and were also offered extra credit.

"I've heard this speaker before, actually. He's really good. Even if the content matter isn't the most... Interesting, he makes it engaging, at least," Connor said as you had walked through the rows of seats.

When Connor talked, it felt as though he was performing instead of participating in the conversation. It was almost unsettling, how his expression never faltered. Or maybe he was fine. Maybe Ellie was just tired and being judgmental. 

Jesse and Dina had agreed to sit in the back, so that’s where you all had gone. 

“When? Did you listen to him speak before, I mean?” 

Ellie’s head nearly snapped in your direction as you posed your question, her eyebrows drawing together. She didn’t really know why she was surprised that you were participating in the conversation, but she was. 

“It’s a yearly thing, right?” Jesse answers on behalf of Connor, glancing at him to confirm the answer. Connor nodded, and then you did, too. 

“Is it the same thing every time?” Your voice sounds again, another question as you had glanced between Jesse and Connor. 

“A… Sort of variation of it, I guess? But I swear, you won’t hate it. If you can spare a few seconds throughout your studying,” Connor joked, his eyebrow twitching upwards as he met your gaze. 

The corners of your lips faintly twitched before you tilted your head to look at Ellie, making instant eye contact. The action, however small, soothed whatever weird thoughts had started floating around Ellie’s head within the last two minutes. 

"Even if it's the most boring hour of my life, it's worth the damn extra credit," Dina concluded, causing a snort of laughter from Jesse.

"That's my intellectual," Jesse teased, earning a laugh from you and a groan from Ellie. Dina lightly shoved at his arm, but let him lace his fingers with her own anyway.

The interaction managed to hold Ellie's attention for a moment, until she felt you move away from her side.

The group of five had been standing in the aisle, lingering by a group of seats. You had moved to sit down though, evidently more seriously concerned with glancing over your textbook than Ellie had actually assumed. Ellie was going to turn back to Dina and Jesse and make some smart remark, until she noticed Connor moving to sit down, too.

Ellie's eyebrows practically furrowed as her eyes followed Connor's movements. It looked like he was intending on sitting down next to you, which didn't make sense. Why would he sit next to someone he had just met, like, five minutes ago? Jesse was right there, why wouldn't Connor wait to sit next to him? Or go find his own damn seat, somewhere else?

Ellie watched for a split second, tuning out the rest of Jesse and Dina's banter. No, yeah. Connor was definitely trying to sit next to you. Which didn't make sense. Right? Who does that?

"What are you studying for, anyway?" Connor was casually moving towards your seat, looking over you curiously.

"Uh, I was supposed to have an exam at the end of last week but the professor ended up being sick so... Now I have it tomorrow and I'm totally- Oh, sorry. It's for my-"

Ellie's feet are carrying her, rushed and fumbling as she moves through the aisle. She nearly tripped over the seats, passing Connor and immediately settling into the seat next to you. You cut off your own words as Ellie sat next to you, a smile replacing your previous expression.

"You got it," Ellie assured you softly, pretending Connor wasn't still looking at you.

"Yeah, right. You know I'm shit at exams. I always have been," you complained, chewing anxiously at your bottom lip. People were still filing into the auditorium, the seats filling up surprisingly quickly.

"Yeah, you have been," Ellie agreed, grinning when your jaw dropped at her. "But. You haven't managed to fail anything, either. Yet."

"Ellie," you groaned softly, exasperated and amused all at once. Ellie could tell.

"Bad test taker?" Connor muses, and Ellie's expression faltered. Jesus.

"Anxious test taker," you correct lightly.

Connor sat down then, in the seat next to Ellie. She almost feels as though she briefly goes rigid, and nearly wanted to whirl around to Jesse and tell him to get his friend. She also wants to tell you that you don't have to keep answering his questions, based on the way in which you're twisting your fingers in your lap and your gaze is flicking around.

"Understandable," Connor replied, and Ellie sat back in her chair. Understandable. What time was this thing supposed to start, anyway?

Jesse and Dina sat down then, with Jesse next to Connor and Dina at the end. The seating arrangement felt weird. It was uncomfortable, and Ellie began to fidget with her fingers in her lap. It was normally always just the four of them, but now there was some Connor separating them. Ellie tried to catch Dina or maybe Jesse's eyes, but they weren't looking, too caught up in their own conversation.

"What do you study?" Connor was talking past Ellie, directing his words at you.

Ellie took a small breath while you answered, mentally scolding herself for being so fucking weird. This was not a big deal. It was really, literally fine. Ellie was just tired, that's why she was feeling off. She was just tired. And the fact that a conversation was taking place over her wasn't helping.

"What do you study?" Ellie's gaze flickered in your direction as you spoke, before fixing back upon her Converse.

"B-"

You quickly cut Connor off, an assumptious expression appearing on your features. "Business?"

Ellie could tell even by your tone that you were trying not to roll your eyes.

Connor laughed, shaking his head. He leaned forward in his seat to get a better look at you, past Ellie. "Biology, actually."

"Oh. Huh. That's cool."

You looked surprised. Pleasantly surprised, maybe, if Ellie was willing to admit it to herself.

You stayed quiet though, because the auditorium lights started to dim, prompting the talking throughout the room to grow hushed.

Showing up had been a favor for Dina, so Ellie didn't feel too guilty about allowing her thoughts to wander. She tried, though, to focus on the lecture, because she didn't exactly like the direction in which her thoughts were wandering in.

Ellie focused partly on the speaker, and partly on the way in which you were sharing the armrest of the auditorium chair with her, your bare arm pressed against the sleeve of her hoodie. It was cold in the room, like Ellie had predicated, but your sweatshirt remained in your lap, under your textbook.

The contact was small and casual, nothing out of the ordinary. Still, Ellie's gaze flickered between the stage and your arm next to hers. Even from the brief contact, Ellie wondered if her hoodie would smell like your perfume later. Usually, her clothes always did.

You were seemingly focused on the speaker, though your textbook remained open on your lap. Occasionally you would glance down for a few moments, your fingers tracing over the paragraphs before you would look up once more. Ellie wasn't watching you, necessarily, but she could see you from out of the corner of her eye. Besides, she knew your habits.

It was about twenty minutes before Connor shifted in his seat, causing Ellie to stiffen. He leaned in close to Ellie's seat, but she knew instantly that it was so he could get closer to you.

"Do you have a pen? Or a pencil, or something?" Connor's voice was low and quiet, and Ellie attempted to stare straight ahead at the stage, as though he wasn't bordering a little too closely into her personal space.

You hesitated for only a second before leaning over to rummage through your bag, wordlessly passing a mechanical pencil around Ellie, handing it to Connor. Ellie spares a glance at you, noting the obvious confusion in your expression. Connor's arm is carefully reaching over then, grasping the corner of your textbook and pulling it off of your lap and towards himself.

Your eyebrows raised and your lips parted, almost as though you're going to mumble words in protest. You faltered at the sight of Connor scribbling something on one of the pages, any potential words failing you.

Jesse and Dina were completely oblivious. Ellie forced her gaze away, swallowing harshly.

When your textbook was returned to your lap, yourself and Ellie both looked down at the new markings on the page. Ellie's eyebrows slowly drew together at the sight of it.

A phone number. Connor had written his phone number.

It was bold. Stupidly annoying, and overbearing, Ellie thought. She felt a little too warm, suddenly, and maybe it wasn't as cold in the auditorium as she had originally thought. She briefly contemplated shedding her hoodie, but she didn't want to draw any attention to herself by moving around.

Ellie watched as you stared down at the written phone number. The exhale you released was shaky, and Ellie felt freakish for noticing the detail.

She couldn't tell, however, if you were flattered or annoyed. You always did tend to get weird whenever a guy showed any sort of interest in you. Refused to talk about it, like you were embarrassed or something. Rarely ever followed up on it, too.

You were always like that. It made Ellie paranoid. Paranoid that the feelings she had been harboring for longer than she would like to admit were obvious, paranoid that one of these days, you were going to give her some pathetic speech in an attempt to let her down easy.

Still, Ellie couldn't help the way in which her gaze drifted to Connor. Her eyes flickered over his features as she bit the inside of her cheek. You had dated before, sure. But the relationships were always few and far between, and they never really lasted long.

Ellie just figured you were avoidant. Or picky. Maybe both.

Was he the type of guy you would even be into?

Ellie swore under her breath, her eyes dragging back to focus upon the stage, upon the not really sure whatever the hell this guy was going on about but they had all shown up to support Dina's effort for extra credit lecture.

The hour felt slow with Connor in the seat next to Ellie, his phone number now etched onto the page of your textbook. Ellie wanted to erase it. Instead, she anchored her thoughts on the feeling of your arms pressed together.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

The sky was fully dark by the time that the event had ended, and Ellie walked you back to your apartment. She didn't need to, but she always did. She was a good friend like that.

Your face felt a little warm, the knowledge of Connor's phone number on the page causing your textbook to feel more weighted in your bag.

As September progressed, it continued to grow colder at night. The wind pushed leaves across the sidewalk, the sound comforting during the day but bordering on eerie once it was night. You were wearing your sweatshirt now.

"You gonna text him?" Ellie asked, nearly wincing as the words left her lips. They sounded so awkward. Despite all of your years of friendship, the two of you had never seemed to quite get a grip on talking about relationships, or girls or boys or whatever. It always felt a little unnatural, which didn't necessarily suit your dynamic.

"Who? Connor?"

"Yeah. Connor."

"Why would I text him?" You held the door open for Ellie, the two of you stepping into your apartment building. It wasn't even very late, but it was quiet. Your steps seemed to echo throughout the hallway.

"Because he gave you his phone number?" Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes as she jabbed the button for the elevator.

"I don't know why he did that," you mumbled.

You really didn't know why he would do that. Well, you could assume. But it still didn't make sense. It made you feel a little gross, for some reason, even though he had been perfectly polite. And the fact that it made you feel gross, made you feel guilty in turn.

"Besides. I'm like... Too busy. With class, and work. And... Hanging out with you," you added, stepping into the elevator after Ellie.

"You are so full of it," Ellie grinned, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up. It's our last year, we need to soak it in before it's over. Like, make memories and stuff."

"Last ye- Jesus. You're already thinking about that?"

"It's almost over," you pointed out, shooting Ellie a sideways glance.

"It's September. Holy shit. You're already worried about that?"

"Ellie-"

"I know," Ellie relented instantly, evidently wanting to be spared the sentimental, nostalgic spiel for the night. Besides, she did somewhat have a point. Maybe you were jumping the gun, a little. You couldn't exactly help it, though. You were sentimental to your core, rooted and grown with nostalgia for as long as you could remember.

"But you have plenty of memories with me. You do realize that, right?"

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, and you purposely bumped into Ellie as you exited from the elevator, stepping onto your floor.

"Whatever. I don't care. I don't want to text him, alright? I just... don't." You felt a little sick to your stomach, and you couldn't figure out if it was because you were trying to justify it to Ellie or to yourself.

"But wh-"

"If you're so concerned about it, why don't you text him?" You interrupted, essentially joking in response but your tone had come out just a little too defensive.

"Ha. Yeah right," Ellie mumbled, slowing to a stop as you reached your door.

"I'm glad I went tonight," You said then, attempting to change the subject.

You catch Ellie's quick expression, and you can only assume that she's instantly wondering if you will text Connor after all. "I love getting to hang out with you," you clarified, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. "And Dina. And Jesse."

Ellie shook her head, just barely managing to conceal her grin. "God, you're a sap. You're no better than you were when you were fifteen, you know that?"

"Don't care. Look, are you gonna stay?"

"Stay? I don't have anything with me. Plus, I thought you were supposed to be studying tonight."

You pretended not to be disappointed, but you were. Honestly, you were a sap. Especially when it came to Ellie. You couldn't help how much you loved being around her. When you were younger, your parents warned you about dedicating all of your time to only just one friend, but it had only continued to prove to be worth it. You were completely enamored with Ellie.

You told yourself it was platonic. You always told yourself it was platonic.

Only your journal knew otherwise.

"Fine. Go, since you can't wait to get away from me." Your words were dry but you grinned at Ellie, fumbling with your key to unlock the door.

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Ellie stepped away once your door was unlocked, retrieving her own keys from her pocket. "Good luck tomorrow, though. Lunch after?"

"Yeah, definitely," you breathed out, grateful to have something to look forward to following your exam. "Text me when you get back safe. Love you," you called after Ellie once she was halfway down the hallway.

Ellie gave you a brief thumbs up in response.

Upon entering your apartment, you flipped on your lights and kicked off your shoes, carefully tucking them next to the door. After slinging the strap of your bag over a chair, you were already reaching into your pocket for your phone.

you

so you're really not staying

ellie <3

???

ellie <3

if I leave my car here overnight again I'll get another ticket

you

just wanted to hang out

ellie <3

clingy

you

i know you are

you

i can see you in the parking lot 😁

ellie <3

🤨

ellie <3

On my way! back up

ellie <3

fuck

ellie <3

On my way!

ellie <3

omw jfc pack a bag

you

<<33 gimme 5 min

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

[ tags : ]

@mmmil3na @elliescoolerwife @fortune777 @boobdrug @spamfromali @seraphicsentences @muthafuckingstargirl @bready101

[lovelylittlegrim]

This Give and Take

Steddie | Pre-Season 3 | letterman jacket | alt meeting | 2k words

Part 1 | Part 2 |

December 9th, 1984

It’s just starting to snow, heavy white flakes drifting down and catching in Eddie’s tangled curls, in his lashes. He sniffles hard, face numb with the cold. He tries to warm his hands by blowing into them, rubbing the moist warmth into his fingers before stuffing them back into the chilled pockets of his jacket.

He’s not dressed for this kind of weather, not dressed for December at all except the heavy boots and the layered jacket and vest combo. It does little to keep the cold from seeping into his skin. He hadn’t been prepared to be stranded in the middle of the night, somewhere between Hawkins and bumfuck nowhere. He’s dressed for the gay bar he just left In Indy, dressed for the press of hot bodies against his own as lights strobe overhead as liquor soaked breath ghosts along his neck.

“Christ.” His teeth chatter around the word, making it longer and warped.

He’s going to freeze to death out here all because he’s gay. Jeff is going to talk so much shit to Eddie’s headstone when they plop him in the ground after finding his body in the thawed out spring. Eddie will never know a moment of peace.

He stops walking, glancing behind him to peer through the thicker flurries beginning to rain down and wonders if it’s better to just turn back to the van. He thought he could make it to the trailer on foot, but the ground is slippery now and the snow is falling thicker than before.

He curses loudly, voice lost to the wind as he hunches down and tries to preserve warmth. He tucks his face into the collar of his thin shirt and breathes hotly. Just a minute, he thinks. He’ll take just a minute to warm up and then he’ll walk. Maybe even run if it gets him back into town quicker.

He can’t stay here huddled on the side of the road. He’s not that stupid. He knows he’ll freeze to death. So, gathering what little energy he has, he forces himself to stand back up and stomp through the growing trenches of snow.

It’s another thirty minutes of barely walking when he sees the flare of yellow cresting atop the hill he’s trying to make his way up. He squints through frozen lashes, heart pounding with hope at the sight of headlights coming towards him. He staggers off the side of the road, moving more into the street and waving a stiff arm wildly.

The car passes him and Eddie deflates. He gets it. Weird guy in all black on the side of the road at what can only be three in the morning… he’s not sure he would stop for them either. He could be a murderer. He is not. Obviously. But, to the driver, he could be. So, as much as he really hates it, he gets it too.

“Fuck,” he he croaks, stomps his feet to warm them up, they’ve gone terrifyingly numb, and just to stomp them because fuck, he might actually cry.

It’s barely a minute or two when yellow light drenches him again, this time from behind. Eddie swivels around, nearly slipping in the slush. The car came back, it had turned around for Eddie. It creeps up beside him on the other side of the road and Eddie contemplates freezing or being murdered because what kind of psycho would turn around for him of all people.

The driver's window rolls down, slow and squeaky, and Eddie’s surprised to see the face on the other side is a familiar one.

“Munson?” Steve Harrington is staring at him with furrowed brows from the dark recesses of his car.

“Harrington,” Eddie says back cautiously. He’s ready to beg for a ride, to promise a lifetime supply of weed and silence at lunch time if he has to just for a ride into town.

Harrington twists around in his seat, looking through the back window and then out the windshield, searching for something, before his gaze fixes onto Eddie again. “Dude, what the hell are you doing out here?”

“Just out for a late night stroll,” he stutters around a sharp burst of wind. “You know how it is.”

“It’s snowing.”

“Yeah, I did notice that,” Eddie nods. He clears his throat and gestures towards where he’d left his van. “My van broke down a few miles back, thought I could make it to town on foot but, uh, snow.”

“Shit,” Harrington says, voice edging into sympathetic.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees.

Silence lapses between them, Harrington staring at him and Eddie staring back wondering how to ask for something he’s pretty sure Harrington won’t give him. They’re not exactly friends. They’re not anything to each other except two people who attend the same shitty highschool. Eddie’s surprised Harrington even knows his name, if he’s being honest. It’s not like anyone calls him by it, usually they stick to the moniker of ‘freak’. Or other, F words they’re oh so clever to use.

It’s not long, barely even a minute before Harrington says, “are you going to get in the car or did you really want to finish your stroll?”

“I,” Eddie blinks, “wait, seriously, you’re gonna give me a ride?”

“I’m not going to let you freeze to death on the side of the road, man.” Harrington frowns at him, brows pulling low. “Why do you think I stopped?”

“Because you didn’t know it was me?” Eddie clicks his tongue. “And really, Harrington, picking up hitchhikers is dangerous man, you shouldn’t be stopping for strangers. What if I was a murderer or something?”

The frown falls away, replaced with a snort of amusement. “I’m glad it is you and not a stranger — and I’m not really all that worried about murderers when it’s this cold outside.”

“You should be, this could be a murderer's favorite weather.”

“Are you enjoying it?”

“No, I'm obviously freezing my balls off out here.”

“Obviously.” There’s a small smile pulling at his mouth now. “So are you ever going to get in the car or do you have people to murder on your stroll?”

Eddie shakes his head, too cold to really laugh as he rounds the car and finally climbs inside. He does his best to stamp the snow from his shoes so he doesn’t ruin the interior of the expensive car. Beside him, Harrington rolls up his window and cranks the heat up higher, but Eddie is still shivering.

“How long were you walking?”

“Dunno,” Eddie mumbles, “an hour, maybe?”

He hadn’t exactly been looking at the time when his van died.

Harrington him and reaches into the backseat, his arm fumbles around for a moment, before he seems to grab whatever he’s looking for and yank it into the front seat with them. A swaddle of fabric falls onto Eddie lap and the colors alone clue him into the fact that this is Steve Harrington's letterman jacket.

“You can use that,” Harrington says like it’s the most normal thing on the planet and then he’s shifting out of park and into drive.

Eddie does use the jacket, pulling it around his trembling body desperate to be warm again.

“Thanks,” he chatters when he realizes he hasn’t said anything in a while. It’s not a long drive into town, but with the weather it's slow and cautious. The guy has to be going just over thirty.

“Don’t mention it,” Harrington says easily. Like it really is just that simple. Like the king of Hawkins high giving the freak a ride home is normal and not bat shit insane.

Speaking of…

“What are you even doing all the way out here so late?”

Harrington hadn’t been coming from Indy, he'd been coming from town and in Eddie’s experience, there’s literally nothing open this late except a few sketchy gas stations.

Harrington drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I couldn’t sleep, went for a drive.”

“It’s snowing,” Eddie points out in the same incredulous tone Harrington had used earlier.

Big brown eyes glance over at him, amused. “I did notice,” he tells Eddie.

And, what is happening, Eddie wonders. Are they bantering? That’s weird, right?

Harrington shrugs then. “It also wasn’t snowing when I left the house.”

“How long have you been driving around?”

“I don’t know, an hour, maybe two.”

“Well, shit, I’m glad you couldn’t sleep man, otherwise I would seriously be screwed.” Eddie doesn’t let himself think about what could have happened.

He can’t believe he’s literally been saved by Steve Harrington of all people.

No one is going to believe him. Not that Eddie is going to tell anyone. Except maybe Jeff. For reasons.

“Yeah,” Harrington agrees.

Eddie holds his fingers close to the heat, they ache as they slowly regain feeling. The car is quiet with the lapse in conversation, the only sound the windshield wipers going full force.

“You can play something, if you want.” Harrington gestures to the radio. “There’s tapes in the glove box—I don’t think you’re going to like any of them, but…”

It’s better than the silence.

Eddie wiggles his fingers a few times, pumping blood back through them enough to get them to clumsily work. He pulls out several cassets and snorts when he sees the artists.

Harrington glances over. “I said you weren’t going to like them.”

Eddie holds one up, head shaking even as he decides to pop it into the player. “Should have known you would be into tears for fears.”

“They’re a good band.”

“They’re okay.”

“Just because they’re not always screaming—“

“It’s not about the screaming—“

“Sure.”

Eddie twists the volume, not high enough to cut off conversation but just enough to hear it over the blizzard happening around them. He does actually like tears for fears. He likes the lyrics. He’s not going to tell Steve Harrington that though.

“What were you doing out so late,” Harrington asks after the first song ends and the next one begins.

“Was coming back from Indy.”

“This late?”

“Yeah well things really didn’t go as planned.”

Harrington snorts a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I see that.” He drums along lightly to the beat. “Were you at a bar?”

Eddie's heart leaps up to his throat before he realizes Harrington isn’t asking about a gay bar. Why would he be? He’s just asking about a bar. A regular hole in the wall bar.

“Yeah, the drinks are better.”

“Expensive,” Harrington mumbles.

Eddie’s hums his agreement.

It’s a long drive to the trailer park, but surprisingly not awkward. They keep up conversation throughout the hour's drive. Mostly it’s Eddie making fun of Harrington's music and Harrington defending himself and his choices. It’s surprisingly easy.

Eddie doesn’t think about directions a single time until they’re pulling into the trailer park and edging up to Eddie’s trailer. Eddie stares at his home with relief and surprise.

“You know where I live?”

“I’ve been here a few times,” Harrington says, “with, uh, Tommy and carol.”

Ah.

He’s been a tagalong to Hagan’s drug deals.

“I always stayed in the car,” he explains further but Eddie already gleaned that much. He’s surprised Harrington knows which trailer is his though, they do all kind of look alike.

“Right.”

Steve turns the volume lower, like he needs something to do with his hands.

Eddie shoves open the door, cursing when a burst of sharp cold air washes over them. He clambers out, leaves the door open a crack to say thanks again.

Harrington nods, mouth parting like he’s going to say something, his dark eyes flicking over Eddie but then he just nods. “You’re welcome, man.”

“Uh, drive safe.” Eddie shuts the door and waves before hurriedly bounding up the few steps and tumbling inside the trailer.

It’s not until he hears the low purr of Harrington's car fade away and he’s kicked off his soaked socks that he realizes he’s still wearing the letterman. It smells like expensive cologne and hairspray.

“Shit.”

How the hell is he supposed to give this back?

This was only supposed to be one part but now I have a second part AND two alternate endings for it in the works.ugh

[tarotbyjam24]

Pick a pile :Describing you through poems

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Disclaimer: this is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so 🕊️

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Pile 1 pile 2 pile 3

Pile एक

A WALK

A meadow smiling in the sun,

Cows knee cleep in the stream, An elm tree waving in the wind, A silvery birch's gleam, A long white road, a rustic bridge, A brooklet gliding through, And with the sunlight on Your hair, Coming toward me-You.

DEATH

By Clarence E. Flynn

WHY do you fear me? I am your friend.

I but guide trav'lers Rounding the bend-Lead them to freedom From time and age, Help them start writing On a new page....

Seek for me never, Keep your course true-When I am needed In come to you, Then I will show you Roads without end-Why do you fear me? I am your friend.

Pile दो

i write when

i write when my heart gets too heavy to hold i write about my scars new and old. i write when i have a lot to share, but to hear it out, no one has time to spare. i write when i feel as lonely as one could be, when not tears, but the well dressed smile is what one could see.

i write when thoughts in my

mind begin to sink.

i write to share whatever i think.

i write, not with thr desire of being known, but to know the voice within my soul.

~bhoomika

I Sit Beside The Fire and Think by JRR Tolkien

I sit beside the fire and think Of all that I have seen Of meadow flowers and butterflies In summers that have been

Of yellow leaves and gossamer In autumns that there were With morning mist and silver sun And wind upon my hair

I sit beside the fire and think Of how the world will be When winter comes without a spring That I shall ever see

For still there are so many things That I have never seen In every wood in every spring There is a different green

I sit beside the fire and think Of people long ago And people that will see a world That I shall never know

But all the while I sit and think Of times there were before I listen for returning feet And voices at the door

Pile तीन

Beauty

I like simple pleasures, Like wet hair & Clean sheets.. Pomegranate sourness, & the sweetness of ripe peach..

I like contradictions, Like rainbows after rain.. The glittering eyes of happiness, after days of pain..

A cup of hot tea, during a storm.. Living wildly and out of the norm.. I like good hearts, good art, the warmth of the sun.. The days you gave your self power, When you had none..

I like solitude, serenity, The thoughts in my mind.. And how in every tragic thing, Beauty I can find..

-Alethea Spark

Each of us are given a white canvas Some may be smaller than others. But the fact remains that it is pure, With not a single drop of colour.

As the days go by, the amount of strokes grow, With different colours and shapes. Some may be sharp and jagged And others smooth and clean.

You cant erase it or start over, But you can always cover it with a better strokes. You may even give up and want to stop at times, But you keep trying so desperately

And in the end, you can step back and look at what you have created And see that it was beautiful all along.

A masterpiece painted by you.

- C.

I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀Bless you and have a nice day🌸🐰

Loads of love , jam ✨

Exchanges : open , collabs for paps : open

[theninthdoor]

݁˖⚘‧˚ pac || yes or no + short message/clarification ࣪˚࿔

🌷 think of a question you need a Yes/No answer for, take 3 deep breaths, ground yourself, and then pick one of the 8 options below. this PAC should give you a general idea of what the energy surrounding this matter is + what Spirit wants you to know and/or suggest you to do about it. 🌷 take only what resonates and leave the rest! if you feel like the pile you’ve initially picked doesn’t really apply or resonate with you, then don't force it. just really try to use your intuition + your discernment. and you can also, of course, pick more than one pile. 🌷 remember that this is all for entertainment purposes and that free will still exists. don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to or to make a pile/answer fit you situation, alright? 🌷 enjoy, my friends!

Pile 1 || ✧

cards: ace of pentacles, king of swords, Time for a Nap

Your answer, dear Pile 1, is Yes! This might require some more work going forward, and things might not be or go exactly as you have envisioned them up until this point, but the outcome should still be very positive! At the bottom of the deck we have the Eight of Pentacles and the Four of Wands, too, which suggest that your efforts will be rewarded (now or later), for sure, as long as you stay committed to whatever it is that you have in mind. New communication or clarity regarding this matter might be coming towards you soon, as well, so I would be on the lookout for that! At last, Spirit is saying that it's alright for you to relax now. Don't rush; don't fret; don't doubt. Things will work out for the best, as you will surely see. You're going in the right direction (action-wise, thought-wise, or both).

extra messages - don't have to apply; serves as extra confirmation: Cat- names; C- names. Cambridge. UK. Harvard. Planning for college. Light brown hair. Green hair. Tan skin. Howard. H- names. Blue manicure. Red manicure. Ice. Snow. New books. Missing deadlines. Tabi shoes. Blue pajamas. Elf. Elv-. Long essays. Yellow flowers. Craving donuts or croissants. Bears.

Pile 2 || ✧

cards: ace of swords rx, seven of wands rx, Breathe rx

This seems like a No, dear Pile 2… Something about it is making me feel like your/someone's time has passed or other things have now gotten in the way of this, so the road is blocked. We have the Ten of Cups at the bottom of the deck, though, which, to me, is a sign that even if No is not what you were expecting to hear, it will still prove itself to be the best answer you could get. The future holds clarity and resolve. It's not so much that you're being denied whatever it is that you have in mind; it's more so like you're being redirected towards something better altogether. And, I think, the long-run is what you should be thinking of, not the past or the present.

extra messages - don't have to apply; serves as extra confirmation: Burgundy hair. Ginger hair. Ginger cat. Ginger. Spices. A new baby in the family. Younger brother. Losing or breaking an umbrella. Iris. Inez. Ingrid. Slovenia. Slovakia. Sweden. Norway. Royalty. S- names. Monet. Painting. Studying art. A- names. Y- names. Red brick.

Pile 3 || ✧

cards: knight of wands rx, nine of wands, Go The Distance

No for now; More likely in the future. - That is what I heard here. The timing isn't quite right for it to happen or for you to make a decision. Something tells me, too, that if the answer were to be Yes, you'd soon find out that it should've been a No instead. If this were to come to you right now, that is, it's likely that you wouldn't be happy about it, even if you think you would. Now, if you're asking about someone else, I feel like there's some sort of pause there. I see no activity; just silence and/or distraction - like the other person is looking away from this. So, basically: Now is not the time. That is our take away from this.

extra messages - don't have to apply; serves as extra confirmation: Elephant. E- names. Flowers. Garden. Spring allergies. Allergic reactions. Arguments with the mother. Light-colored hair. Throwing a lot of old stuff away, or wanting to. Planning for a tattoo. Saving money. Drawings of trees. Biology. Botany. Lakes. L- names. Lily. Leon-. Land-. Pisces placements. Elev-. Eleventh grade.

Pile 4 || ✧

cards: temperance, the high priestess, Why?

Your answer is Yes. There is some complexity to this issue, though, as the cards are suggesting a need to seek more information. Not only do I think you might need to reflect, by yourself, a little bit about this, but it may also be a case of you needing to talk to others and/or do some research about whatever it is that you're asking about here. If I were to put this energy into a sentence, it would be "Keep moving in this direction, yes, yet cautiously and slowly."; so, even if the answer is positive, you still need to be careful, in order to avoid mistakes and/or misunderstandings. The future just isn't as clear as the present, it seems.

extra messages - don't have to apply; serves as extra confirmation: Listening to Taylor Swift or reading articles about her. Red lipstick. Red manicure. Working at a beauty store. Hairdresser. Fish. Sushi. Fishing. Fire placements; Aries placements, in particular. Andrew. Andre-. Baby blue. Painting walls. Wallpaper. Buying decor or home appliances. The countryside. Get-together with friends. Date night. Plastic surgery. Dolls. Iv-. Hiv-. V- names. Vanya/Vania. W- names.

Pile 5 || ✧

cards: knight of cups, six of wands rx, Chaos and Conflict

Alright… this one is a solid Maybe. There are many pros and cons; many points in favor and many others against. Overall, there are a lot of conflicting energies at play here. If this involves other people, then your energy is not aligned with theirs, so whatever you want and/or expect doesn't reflect their current standing. You're not seeing eye to eye, and you, yourself, don't seem to be seeing things clearly. Within you, too, I think there's a lot of confusion surrounding this situation. You're just being misguided, somehow, either by your mind or your heart. Either way, though, I don't think this is anything too serious or final, and you should, eventually, find your way to the truth. If you asking about a decision you've been pondering on, then the answer is: Wait. As I said before, you are mistaken, somewhere or somehow. This direction you're going in might not be completely wrong - or else the answer would've been a No, I suppose -, but something about this isn't quite right.

extra messages - don't have to apply; serves as extra confirmation: On and off relationships. Friendships ending. Betrayals. Starting new TV shows. Binge watching shows or movies. Film class. Critical essays. Bad grades. Red or orange clothing. New dresses or skirts. Cottage core. A very old pet. Grey fur. G- names. Phillipe/a. Fil-. Trish. T- names. Treasure. S- names.Tr-. Spain. Argentina.

Pile 6 || ✧

cards: death, ace of cups rx, Come To The Edge

Before I even pulled the cards here I heard "your friends are not being helpful" - yet I feel like the message might also apply to acquaintances, coworkers, etc., or anyone or anything you have been relying on a lot as of late, really. I feel you being pushed and pulled; being made to run in circles. Whenever you're close to your goal and/or to the truth, something else or someone else distracts you, and then you're back to the beginning. There's an element of immaturity and carelessness here, both coming from you and from around you, so I would, for sure, keep an eye out for that, too. Besides that, I also feel like you're only seeing what you want to see. There is much more to it, yet you're allowing yourself to be deceived and misled.

So, here, the answer here is not really a Yes, nor it is a No. I think the question, itself, is either pointless or misconstrued, so what you ought to do is take a step back and make sure you're using reason and being realistic. After you do so, then, I believe, you might find the right questions to ask (or realize you shouldn't be bothering with this matter at all).

extra messages - don't have to apply; serves as extra confirmation: Going from PAC to PAC. Angel numbers. Social media lurking. Gossip. Frustration. Libra placements. Sagittarius placements. A- names. D- names. Lace. L-names. M- names. Bows. Coquette. Sis-. Sib-. Vancouver. Sol-. Son-. Kark-. Asia. Indonesia. Philippines. Northeast. Tornado. Mel-. Grains. Pink phone case. Yellow phone case. Small tattoos.

Pile 7 || ✧

cards: the sun, seven of pentacles, Come To The Edge reversed

This feels like a soft Yes, but a Yes nonetheless! I think things are moving in the right direction, as it is, so even if this isn't a clear Yes as of yet, it is likely to become one pretty soon. And, whatever it is that you're seeking, I believe, is likely to either come to you or become available in the near future; so this is like the energy is building up to it or maturing. - and 'Maturing', I think, is really the keyword here, and what you need to reflect upon! You also need to keep moving and to keep bringing positive energy into your life; stagnancy won't do it. Patience is also needed, as well as respect for Divine timing. If there are other people involved here, I feel positive in regard to that/them, too. Everything seems pretty nice, overall, and optimistic.

extra messages - don't have to apply; serves as extra confirmation: Jo- names. Jasper. Buying crystals. Setting up an altar. Al-. Morocco. North Africa. Egypt. Family traditions. The sun. Sisters. Stars. Ancestors. Ancestor work. Baby names. Mother figure. Long dresses/skirts. Wedding. F- names. P- names. K- names. Kan-. Can-. Vials. Ven-. Bracelets. Virgo placements. Capricorn placements. New romantic interest or relationship.

Pile 8 || ✧

cards: eight of wands rx, king of pentacles, Treasure Island

This is not yet a Yes, but might be on it's way to becoming one! It isn't a No, though. It's just kind of a 'meh'… not even a 'maybe'. There's resistance here. Doubts. Questions. Lack of clarity, all around. I think what you are needing right now is time, first and foremost, dear Pile 8. You need time to think; time to make up your mind about some important things; giving others time, too. Instead of focusing too much on what you're inquiring about here and over-saturating your mind and/or the situation, take a break instead. Relax; do some self-care. You need to look at this matter with fresh eyes from now on, or you might miss the most important cues. Because, overall, the energy is positive, yes, but it could still turn into something less favorable if you push it too much or act on impulse rather than reason.

extra messages - don't have to apply; serves as extra confirmation: I accidentally wrote Pile G instead of Pile 8 for whatever reason, so the letter G might be very significant here. Also, you might find some extra messages in Pile 7, as I am feeling like the two are somehow connected. Grandmother's house. Tile floors. Italy. Sweeping leaves off the floor. Gardening. Cats. Baby pets. Vind-. Motorcycles. Old bus. Something inherited from the grandfather or father. Gold jewelry. Fol-. Jewelry on the right hand/arm. -in. 28. 8. 88. 33.

decks used || The Original Rider Waite + Wisdom of The Oracle

(Disclaimer: Based on current energies. All is alleged and for entertainment purposes only. None of the original images are my own - only the edits!)

[carolmunson]

the boy is mine (carol's edition)

you know i had to do it to 'em. if you'd like to take a crack at the 'the boy is mine' writing challenge, you can check it out here. you can also see the masterlist of everyone's works here. a/n: for me, how eddie was fleshed out in FOI has always been how i see him. hurting, but goofy, but snarky, but sweet, but loving, but scared, but all that. eddie 'has taken care of himself since third grade' munson just makes sense to me. in this ficlet, our romantic night in gets muddled when eddie doesn't know how to just let someone love him right. i've also always have written eddie as older than he actually is, so here -- he's 25. argue with the wall. tw: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, some smutty references but no smut, references to smoking and drinking. some arguing but nothing crazy.

The day was hard on his shoulders and back, no one should be hunched over the hood of a car for this long -- and even being young isn't saving him from the grimace he makes every time he gets out of his bed with a decades old mattresss. Eddie cracks his neck each way while he chugs down the road leading to Forest Hills, slick and shiny with rain from the afternoon. The orangey yellow headlights on his beat up '71 Chevrolet bounce cheerily off the darkened asphalt, but the scrape, clatter, and growl of his engine and whatever else was a stark reminder that this van was on it's last leg. As bright as the headlights were, the gloomy purpled evening sky was a perfect match to his mood.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday.

For the past few years, Eddie has spent his birthday working double shifts at the auto shop and then meeting the guys at the Hideout to get so drunk he can't see. Can't be sad about your birthday if you're too drunk to think about how your mama's dead and your dad won't call. Can't be sad about how you won't ever get to hear her sing you happy birthday, or put on a record, or dance with you in the living room. Or have your dad make dinner and put the six pack away if only for that night. To not run out on 'a job' or 'work a late shift' where he won't come back for days afterward.

He'd drink and drink until you had to hold him up to get him out of the bar, piling him into the back seat and having the guys follow you home to help load him into bed. He always looked forward to the greasy diner hangover breakfast in the morning where it could be just the two of you, and not his birthday, and not all the awful things he thinks he is.

The gravel groans and crunches when he pulls in at the side of the trailer he used to share with Wayne. With another roll of his head and shoulders he kills the ignition, hopping out of the van and leaning over to grab his bag. It's only when he slings it over his shoulder that he notices the warm glow of the kitchen light on, passing muted through the small curtains. He hip checks the door shut and makes his way up the steps that need repairing -- another thing to add to the list for 'Spring Cleaning' in a couple weeks that he knows he'll forget to do until you remind him or one of the boards rots out. Eddie's ring tap against the metal handle and he braces for the screech of the door, only to be met with the cozy blend of garlic, onion, and rosemary hitting his nose first. He swallows while he kicks off his work boots, turning the corner to see you in the kitchenette, putting the lid back onto the one large pasta pot he has and turning the burner off. "Oh!" you jump when you see him, shock turning into a smile, "You're earlier than I thought you'd be. Hold on!"

"What're y--" He's interrupted by you hurrying into the fridge, glass clinking when you pull out a Mionetto bottle that was already opened to reveal the cork.

"Surprise!" you ring out, popping the bottle with a little flourish, "Happy birthday!" He stands there, unsure at first what he's looking at, trying to take it all in. You in the kitchen with an apron on, the table set nice, a cake set on the counter to cool with a covered bowl of what looks like home made vanilla frosting next to it. To the side, a familiar small notebook lays opened to a buttercream recipe -- his mom's buttercream recipe, still scrawled in her loopy handwriting on yellowing pages with fading blue ink.

"Melvald's didn't have any like, nice cups," you say with a scrunch of your nose as you pour two glasses of prosecco into flimsy plastic flutes, "Is that okay?" "Uh..." he snaps back to reality when you hand him the cup, "Y-yeah that's okay." "Happy birthday, handsome," you smile, raising your drink before you take a sip, he follows suit.

"What is all this?" he asks, voice sounding like it's coming from someone else. Objectively, he should be falling to his knees right now, crying with adoration for you. Sobbing over the clear effort you've put in for a romantic night together at the trailer. "Um," you suck in your lips quickly, and release them, eyes lowering to the scuffed linoleum, "I uh, I made braised short rib and mashed potatoes, some broccoli. Wayne told me that um, that your dad used to smoke them for your birthday but we don't have a smoker so..."

"Why?" The swell in his heart builds from genuine affection to suspicious bitterness, this was way too much.

"Did you not check the calendar today or something? It's kind of a big day," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh, taking the apron off and hanging it on the hook by the hallway, "Sit, sit." He follows your direction, sitting at the table where the place setting is the best it can be with what you have. You even folded up the paper towels nicely. He silently sips on the bubbles, uncomfortable on the makeshift throw pillow cushion on the chair, while you take the plate in front of him and begin serving.

"I should um," he starts, voice gravelly, "I should wash my hands and uh, and change or..." "Yeah," you nod, voice higher pitched than expected, "Go, go ahead. It'll all be ready when you're done washing up." He leaves the glass behind, thudding into the bedroom where he notices a Frederick's of Hollywood bag sitting at the end of the bed. A small pile of gifts in shiny blue paper lay stacked up pretty on his dresser -- a card front in center 'Eddie My Love' - you write it in the same way you sing it to him absentmindedly every now and again. Flipping the lyrics every time. He swallows again, pulling in his cheeks and biting down while he peels off his coveralls and slips into what he was planning to wear to drinks later -- a band tee and some worn jeans. It feels cheap to wear this now, now that you've put in all this effort. Now that you're looking all sweet and put together in the kitchen for him. He rolls his shoulders again, trying to stretch the frustration out. He doesn't wanna be mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't wanan feel so sick in his chest over it -- but he does. All this work for what? Eddie takes his rings off to wash his hands, using the same Dove bar soap to wash the remaining grime off his face from work. Big inhale, big exhale into the towel on the door before making it back to the kitchen where the dinette table was ready for dinner, two tapered candles lit in old holders on the side. He sits across from you, your eyes glittering in the light of the flame.

"You didn't have to do this," he says quietly. Your lips twitch into a half smile, head cocking slightly to the side. "I know, but it's your day...it's a big one, too. The big two-five," your voice doing its best to soothe, "Can't just, I dunno -- get plastered at The Hideout every year..."

"Sure I can," he shrugs with a quirk of his brows, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork. He watches the melty pat of butter ooze off one of the edges like a volcano, pooling in next to the broccoli. "And you like that? That's fun for you?" you chuckle before noticing he's just playing with his food, "You gonna eat?"

"Getting plastered at The Hideout is like, tradition," he mutters, looking at the clock over the cabinets, "And we're gonna be late meeting the guys."

"Ed..." you say, a vapor of disappointment floating through his name when you say it. He winces.

"Like I said, babe," he says, "You didn't have to do all this -- y'know, spend all this extra cash on dinner and --"

"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to -- I wanted to do something nice so that your birthday could be sp -- " "Okay, well I don't need my birthday to be special, it never is," he snaps, he doesn't mean to, "I didn't ask you to do this for me." You hold your soft gaze at him, shoulders round down while you rest a cheek on your palm. If Eddie's mama was still alive, she'd tell you to get your elbows off the table.

In the flame, your glittering eyes turn glassy. You let a soft breath out through your nose, a sulk clear in your posture. "You're right," you mumble, a soft squeak of a sound while you slowly stand, shaking your head, "You're right, you didn't ask. I shouldn't have assumed that you..."

You trail off while you flick the lights on in the kitchen, leaning forward to gently blow out the taper candles. Your hand swishes away the smoke and soot, pushing out out of the cracked kitchen window before the smoke detector catches it. The cabinets creak while you take out some Tupperware from the top shelves, the good stuff that the ladies in the park sold Wayne back in the 70s. They click and clack as the bowls and trays and their tops hit the formica counter top.

"Well--well, wait -- you don't have to pack it up, babe," he says, sitting up a little taller in the chair. When he hears the shudder in your breath he stands, "You don't have to put it away."

"No, it's fine," you assure, a small strain coming through from your chest, "It'll be like -- you'll be so excited when you get home and there's all this food. I just gotta call the guys and tell them to just go to the bar instead of coming here."

"Whaddayou mean, coming here?"

You turn around, eyes wet now but not crying, a tug on your brow and taughtness in your jaw from where you try to hold it back.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you shrug, "But like, it's not important. Lemme just pack this up and I'll get it figured out." "What's the surprise?" he asks, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "Well I..." you let out another breath, lower lip wobbling; an action your stop with a sharp inhale through the nose. "Well I thought it would be fun if the guys came over and did a birthday oneshot campaign with you. I helped Gare and Jeff write it and Jeff was gonna DM," you let out in one breath, "And it was gonna be like, a silly drinking game version." "You were gonna play?" he asks meekly. You nod. You rarely play, always watch. Always make snacks or help him clean up the trailer, always order the pizza because Eddie forgets to. Always add extra mushrooms on one because Richie likes extra mushrooms. Always make sure to get one with white sauce cause red cause doesn't sit great with Dustin.

"Did a, um, did a character sheet and whatever," you say, defeated, while you open the utensil drawer to pull out an extra pair of tongs and a serving spoon, "Drew her -- it's in your card."

You start to pack up the food and the tears start up again, welling in your eyes but still not spilling over. Eddie steps forward, getting between you and the pots and pans on the stove.

"Hey, wait," his voice bare audible, "Babe, don't."

"It's okay," you sniffle, "I just have to call them."

"No -- baby, stop," there's an edge now, ring hand falling on your wrist, "Stop packing it up."

"It's fine--"

A waltz between you, him, and the tupperware on the counter.

"Don't make me..." he huffs, trying to maneuver the tongs out of your hand, "If you don't stop, we're gonna have a pr--"

"Ed, enough! We will go to the bar, it's fine," you urge, anxiety heightening in your chest where it bursts, you start to cry, "Please, let me put it away. It's fine. I just -- fuck --"

"I feel like such an asshole," you sigh, breaking. You relent, letting go of the tongs where he takes them and leaves them between the burners on the yellowed stove.

"Don't be like that, you're not," he soothes, closing in on you against the counters edge, "You're not, I'm sorry."

"I really just wanted your birthday to be special," you weakly murmur, wiping at your eyes.

"You know how I get," he says, rough hands coming up to cup your face where he leaves a soft kiss to your cheek, "M'just not great at bein' fussed over."

"You deserve to be fussed over, doofus," you garble out, his thumbs replacing your fingers to catch the tears as they fall.

"It's hard, babe," he nods, "You knows it's hard for me. Y'know with my mom's stuff gone and my dad being...who fuckin' -- who fuckin' knows. The Hideout just makes sense. That's y'know -- that's what I deserve."

"That's not even true," you shake your head, "Don't be stupid."

"Well, I barely graduated so," he offers you a peck to each salty, wet cheek, "Stupid's my middle name." "Don't cry, sweetheart," he breathes, leaning in with a slow kiss. A kiss drenched in apologies and thank yous, breaks away just to kiss again. And again, and again, and again until you're both breathless under the sickly yellow green glow of the overhead kitchen light. "How about I change into something nicer than this, and we'll pop these plates in the microwave and start over," he asks, a smile toying on his full lips, "'Kay?"

You nod back, getting another peck stolen from you, and following him down the hall. "Oh, yes, yes, allow me to slip into something more..." he announces with flourish, posing half sexily half awkwardly in the doorway to his bedroom, "Uncomfortable." You snort, giggling while you follow in after him, settling on the end of his bed, "You don't have to dress up fancy." "'Course I do," he tsks, brows furrowing, "M'going to a five star restaurant doll, I can't look like a slob." He pulls out a pair of slacks from a funeral he went to two years ago, discarding his jeans and sliding them up over his pale legs. To your dismay, he plucks the t-shirt with a screen print of a tux out of his closet, and exchanges the worn Dio tee with that. You'll always prefer the Dio tee. "Classy," you tease. He winks, and that's enough to make you okay with the tux shirt. His fingers trail over the stack of presents and land on the envelope.

"Can I open the card?"

"Sure."

"Am I gonna cry over it?" he asks, looking at you over the dull paper when he flicks open the top.

You shake your head, "Nah, it's not sappy. You're the sappy card writer."

"I'm so sappy," he agrees, pulling out the card, "I gotta work on that, huh?"

"No, I like when you're sappy, ya sap." You watch him read the card, blush evident in the warm wash of gold from his bedside lamp. You're not a sappy card writer, but you always know how to make him feel like a kid with a crush. When he opens up your character sheet his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. "Shit," he grins, "Rogue tiefling, huh? You tryna kill me?"

"I thought it could be fun," you titter, standing up to look at the pages next to him, "Chaotic evil. Look at me."

"Ugh, baby's first villain," he gushes, "I love it."

"Look at the picture," you bounce on the balls of your feet while he goes to the next page. A much quieter 'shit' falls from his mouth. It was not a drawing that was for the rest of the guys to see, a sketch of a tiefling version of you in an outfit meant for his eyes only. "So you are trying to kill me," he asks, fingers tracing the curve of 'your' hip on the page where the outfit digs into the fat of 'your' hips.

"No, that'll be later," you smirk.

"Hm?' his brows raise.

"What do you think is in the Frederick's bag?" you ask, faux innocence smattering into your tone.

"Ah, you put a little costume together for me?" Eddie's mouth waters at the thought, brain fuzzy as he looks at the picture and then at you.

"Something like that," you tease, making your way back out into the hallway. "Something like that?!" he repeats back, hurrying back out to pull you into a searing kiss before you can make it back into the kitchen. The kind from the movies where he dips you down toward the faded carpet. As he pulls away, he nuzzles your nose against his, staring at you through lowered lids, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," you nod, both of you making it back to full height, "Happy birthday."

You relight the candles on the table and nuke the plates of food, topping off each others plastic flutes with the left over Prosecco. There's three cases of beer in the fridge and you know Gareth is bringing Absinthe and it's something you pray doesn't mess your boyfriend up too much.

Dinner is the best meal Eddie's had in years, unable to keep his eyes off of you in between bites while you rehash your day and him, his. You're picking up the dishes off the table when the boys show up and they deliver. Taking the heat off you, they provide the snacks and even more extra booze. Jeff passes out party hats that make you all look ridiculous -- Eddie can remember laughing this much on his birthday, not even when he was a kid. Not even when his mama was alive.

After the oneshot completes and everyone is ankles deep in a tipsy haze and the smoke from a few joints lingers in the air, you walk in with the cake that is finally frosted -- the 2 and 5 confetti colored candles dancing in front of him while the rest sparkle in the middle of the coffee table. He makes one thousand wishes that he knows will come true because his friends are all still there with him and so are you. You're one room right over, cutting the cake and plating it up, and you'll be there when the boys leave in your skimpy nerdy costume that you bought just for him. And you'll be there while he sleeps and you'll be there when he wakes up. You'll be there across from him the next morning when he feeds you fries dipped in chocolate shake at the diner.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday. And his mother's buttercream frosting is the sweetest it's ever tasted.