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pensthoughts · 13 days ago

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Heyyyy……I was thinking about singing! Reader x big fan! Van…….. do y’all hear me tho??? Like vans at a concert of r, and r points at them, saying they’re cute. Like……AHHHH. And Van freaks out…..

fan behavior | v.p

summary: you, the singer of a small band spot a hot redhead in the front row. little do you know, she knows everything about you. pairing: superfan!van palmer x singer!reader word count: 2.7k

that morning

“lot, can you please come?”

van’s pacing the apartment in mismatched socks and a shirt she definitely slept in, phone tucked under her chin as she dodges the corner of the couch with practiced urgency. her voice borders on desperate. the way she gets about exactly three things: penalty kicks, good horror, and you.

lottie exhales, amused on the other end of the call. “you want me to stand in a pit of strangers because you’re unhealthily obsessed with a rockstar?”

“she’s not just a rockstar,” van snaps, defensive but also a little dreamy. “she writes lyrics like she’s whispering secrets to you. like—like you already lived it with her.”

“she wrote a song about pretending to fall asleep on someone’s shoulder so she could smell their shampoo.”

van’s entire face softens. “exactly. and don’t even get me started on that pool table one.”

lottie hums. “you know she’s probably not even gay, right?”

“she wrote a song called ‘tattoo her teeth on my thigh.’” van grabs her keys off the hook. “i’m not saying she’s gay, but i’m saying she’s not straight.”

“fine,” lottie groans. “pick me up at seven.”

van’s already on her way to shower. “i love you so much.”

“you love her. i’m just your plus-one to delusion.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

at the concert

the venue is small, a low-slung converted theater with no seats, just a sea of restless bodies swaying in anticipation. the kind of place where the floor thrums with the bass before the first note’s even played. van swears she can feel the heartbeat of the room in her teeth.

she lets herself be tugged forward, lottie’s fingers laced through hers more out of necessity than affection, though there’s still comfort in it—familiar, grounding. the crowd is thick and humming, everyone pressed tight with elbows grazing and hair stuck to damp necks, and van can barely hear herself think over the chattering excitement.

but when they finally break through to the front—when van’s knuckles meet the cool of the barricade, and there’s nothing between her and the stage but a single breath of space—her whole body stills.

she grips the metal bar like she might float away.

lottie’s voice is dry in her ear. “you look like you just saw god.”

van doesn’t answer. her mouth is slightly open. the lighting crew is adjusting beams overhead, throwing warm light across the stage, and the shadows cast by the mic stand stretch long and crooked across the floorboards like something out of a dream.

she scans the stage like she’s trying to memorize it. there’s a setlist taped by the amp. she tilts her head, squints to read it. a song she knows by heart opens the night—never yours, the one that made her fall in love with your voice in the first place. she knows you usually open with that one, but seeing it spelled out, so close, so real, makes her stomach twist.

and then the lights drop.

the energy in the room fractures like lightning. a roar builds from the pit behind her, people bouncing on their toes, phones held high. van doesn’t move. she can’t.

you walk onto the stage without warning—no intro, no preamble. you just appear. effortless. composed. like you were always meant to be there.

you’re wearing black. not flashy, not styled within an inch of its life, just good—tailored, sleek, like it fits you better than skin. a silk button-up, half undone. boots that look worn-in but expensive. rings on your fingers, silver catching in the light.

van stares like it’s the first time she’s ever looked at a person properly.

and then you lift your hand, shielding your eyes as you glance toward the front.

your gaze catches on her instantly.

one beat. two.

the room might still be screaming, but van doesn’t hear any of it. all she can focus on is the way your expression shifts—the pause, the tilt of your head, the slow, crooked pull of your smile. your eyes flick down, and van wonders if you're clocking her shirt, her flushed face, the way she’s gripping the barricade like a lifeline. wonders if you can see how hard she’s trying not to completely short-circuit.

you don’t look away.

not at first.

when you finally do, it’s only to step toward the mic and say into it—low, easy, almost teasing—

“hi.”

van’s legs almost give out.

next to her, lottie says under her breath, “jesus christ.”

van just shakes her head slowly, too stunned to speak, eyes wide as if trying to absorb everything about you in the seconds between one song and the next.

she thinks, she saw me. she thinks, no one is going to believe this. she thinks, i'm never gonna forget this

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

intermission

you’re breathless, wiping sweat from your neck with the hem of your shirt, pacing a little in the narrow hallway that smells like beer and fog machine residue. natalie plucks at her strings on a stool, chewing gum like she’s got nowhere better to be.

you say it before you can second-guess yourself.

“girl in the front row. red hair. black tank. big eyes.”

natalie looks up, amused. “that was descriptive.”

“she’s… i don’t know. she locked in on me right away. like, really locked in. i kept looking back without meaning to.”

“ah,” natalie says, smirking now. “one of those.”

“i’m serious.”

“i know you are. that’s what makes it fun.”

you hesitate. “you think it’d be weird if i called her out? like—during a song?”

natalie shrugs. “you’ve serenaded people mid-show for less.”

“she just looks like someone i should’ve already met. like someone who would’ve ruined my life in high school, in the best way.”

natalie laughs, full-throated. “okay, poet.”

you glance at her, half-smiling.

“you could always ask her to come backstage,” nat says, casual. “might blow her mind. you are the reason this place is sold out.”

you press your tongue to the inside of your cheek.

natalie adds, “make sure you invite the tall one too. the one standing next to her. she's really hot.”

you laugh softly. then you turn back toward the stage as the house lights flicker.

“she looked nervous when i smiled at her,” you murmur. “but not in a bad way. like she was trying to hide that she was shaking.”

natalie slings her guitar over her shoulder. “then she’s probably already in love with you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

concert: the second half

the lights dim again after intermission, and the air inside the venue shifts. the energy—restless before—feels electric now. van can barely breathe. the whole time you were offstage, she kept replaying your eyes meeting hers, rewinding the memory like it might slip through her fingers if she didn’t hold it tight enough. even lottie had to wave a hand in front of her face and say, “earth to van,” when she went quiet for too long.

but then you’re back.

you stride onto the stage like it’s nothing—like the moment didn’t happen, like you didn’t just single her out in a sea of people—but the second van sees you, she knows it did. there’s a glint in your eye that wasn’t there before. a sharper kind of mischief in your smile.

the next few songs blur together. van knows every word, has sung these lyrics under her breath a hundred times alone in her bedroom, but right now they slip through her like smoke. all she can focus on is the way you move, the subtle drag of your fingers along the mic stand, the ease with which you carry the entire room like it weighs nothing at all.

and then—

then comes that song.

the tempo dips, something sultry and slow, drums deep like a heartbeat. van feels it in her chest, low and vibrating. you take a step forward, closer to the edge of the stage. closer to her.

the spotlight’s warm on your skin, and your voice drops to a hush for just one line—

“there’s a girl in the front row with stars in her eyes.”

and you point.

directly at her.

the crowd erupts. a thousand voices scream and cheer and whistle—but van hears none of it. she’s frozen, her breath caught somewhere between her ribs and her throat, because you’re looking at her again, really looking this time. your smile flickers wider. you wink—slow, deliberate, a little cocky—and van nearly melts through the barricade.

lottie claps a hand on her shoulder, half-laughing, half-screaming, “that was about you, idiot!”

van’s ears are ringing but not from the music. her whole body is buzzing. she’s never felt so exposed and seen and alive, like she could light up times square without touching a single wire.

the rest of the song passes in a blur of electric color and bright, aching sound. you keep stealing glances between verses—grinning when van catches you, then looking away just as fast. and van? she’s not singing anymore. she’s just watching. staring. gripping the barricade like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded while you flirt with her from thirty inches away like it’s just a casual tuesday night.

and then, the final chords hit.

you thank the crowd, breathless and glowing, before stepping forward to the mic again—this time with both hands on it, your voice a little lower, a little warmer.

“before we go…” you say, then pause. your gaze scans the crowd. lands on her.

“redhead in the front,” you say, and you point again. “yeah, you. you’re really cute.”

the room explodes.

lottie is screaming. people are gasping, laughing, recording. van doesn’t move.

you smile like you’ve just tipped the world sideways.

“you should come backstage,” you add, like it’s nothing, like you’re not completely unraveling her with eight words and a crooked smile. “bring your friend too.”

van is still staring, her mouth open, her entire soul leaving her body like steam off a kettle. lottie grabs her arm like get it together, and van just blinks. slowly. dumbly.

you give one last smile and disappear behind the curtain.

and van?

she hasn’t even blinked yet.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

backstage

the backstage hallway still hums with the distant echo of the crowd—half-dispersed cheers and the low thud of bass through the floorboards. van’s not sure if the buzzing in her ears is from that or from her own heart, pounding so loud it feels like someone’s taken a drumstick to her ribs.

she’s trying to act normal. that’s the goal. it’s a simple enough task, or it should be.

but no. no, van is pacing.

“van,” lottie says from her spot on the couch in the dressing room. she’s got a bottle of water in one hand and the other flung dramatically over her eyes like she’s a victorian ghost. “if you don’t stop walking back and forth i’m going to leave. i mean it. i will leave you here to spontaneously combust.”

“i’m not pacing,” van lies. “i’m just… adjusting. the room.”

“adjusting the room?”

“you know. like… recalibrating.”

“god. you’re gonna throw up on her shoes.”

van stops dead, wide-eyed. “you think she’s wearing nice shoes?”

lottie just groans.

the door creaks open.

van turns so fast it’s almost cartoonish, stumbling over her own foot like the universe decided actually, yes, you will be mortified tonight.

but it’s you.

you, in an oversized sweatshirt now instead of your stagewear, hair damp at the temples, a soft flush still on your cheeks from the heat and the noise. there’s glitter smudged at your collarbone, a ring on your index finger you didn’t wear on stage, and van clocks all of it at once like her brain is taking a high-res photo she can stare at later when she needs to remember how real this is.

“hey,” you say, lazy smile tugging at your mouth like it’s just for her.

van’s throat goes dry. “hey…” she manages, rubbing the back of her neck in the most cliché possible display of nervousness. “uh, cool show, right? i mean—you were cool. are cool. obviously.”

lottie doesn’t even bother holding back her snort.

you laugh—a low, warm sound—and van swears her heart actually skips. like a full, medical emergency pause.

“you’re the one who was singing along like you meant it,” you say, tilting your head. “especially that one track—third from the end? you were going word for word. i saw you.”

“you were looking?” van blurts out.

you raise your brows. “hard not to. you kinda glow.”

van forgets how to breathe.

“and i like your shirt,” you add. “it’s soft. you seem like a soft-shirt kind of person.”

van glances down at it like she forgot she was wearing clothes. “it’s vintage. kind of. my friend gave it to me when i was fifteen and thought i was gonna be a skater.”

“were you?”

“i fell off the board once and cried in a parking lot.”

you grin wider, like she’s just said something particularly charming.

“i like that,” you say, stepping a little closer. “you’re honest.”

van swears the air in the room changes. not tense exactly, but charged. like the feeling right before a thunderstorm. you’re looking at her like she’s a song you already know all the words to.

the door swings open again. natalie steps in, chewing a gummy worm, dragging her eyes across the room like she’s seeing which energy to feed on first.

then her gaze snags on lottie.

“oh,” nat says, eyes narrowing slightly. “you really are tall.”

lottie looks at nat. “well, you’re blunt.”

“i like that,” nat says.

lottie blinks. “what?”

“come with me.”

“where?”

natalie doesn’t answer. she just tosses another gummy worm into her mouth and jerks her chin toward the hallway. “away. you look like someone i want to talk to without this one vibrating into dust nearby.”

lottie glances at van, who is still halfway between stunned and stunned-er. then back to nat, who is already walking out the door.

“ten minutes,” lottie mutters to van, following her out.

“i can work with ten,” you say with a smirk, watching them leave.

the room gets quieter. closer.

van runs a hand through her hair. “so, uh… now that my friend’s being abducted…”

“you’re safe,” you say lightly. “unless you’re afraid of girls who sing songs about you.”

van’s whole face goes red.

“i wasn’t sure if you’d notice me,” she says quietly, not quite meeting your eyes.

“i noticed you the second i walked out,” you say. “you were impossible to miss.”

“because i was staring at you like i forgot how blinking works?”

“no,” you say. “because you look like someone i’d write songs about.”

van just stares at you, mouth slightly open. like you’ve flipped gravity.

“so,” you say, softer now. “can i get your number?”

van’s brain short-circuits for a full second. “mine?”

“no,” you deadpan. “your friend who got lured away with candy.”

van laughs a little, shaky and disbelieving. “yeah. i mean. yes. you can have my number. for sure. totally. cool. chill. normal.”

you smile like she just handed you a mixtape and told you her deepest secret.

you take out your phone, hand it to her. “go ahead.”

her fingers shake a little, but she types it in. you save it with a name—van (fangirl)—and don’t bother hiding the smirk.

“we’re playing here again tomorrow night,” you say, slipping your phone back in your pocket. “come back. i’ll leave your name at the door.”

van nods too fast. “yeah. yeah okay. totally. chill. i mean cool. i mean—yeah.”

you laugh. she’s blushing so hard her freckles are disappearing into it.

as you head toward the hallway, you glance over your shoulder and throw her one last smile—easy, radiant, like a dare.

“see you tomorrow, fangirl.”

the door shuts behind you.

van stands there, dazed.

after a beat, the door creaks open again. lottie’s back.

“did she just call me fangirl?” van whispers.

lottie just shrugs. “that’s ‘cause you are.” then she tosses a look back down the hallway. “also, i think i have a date now?”

van blinks.

“…what the hell just happened?”

lottie grins. “you fell in love. i got hit on by a hot guitarist. we’re even.”

💌 taglist: @callsignwidow, @freakyjorker, @imlike-so-gaydude, @yellowjacketsslvt69, @moonwateraura, @gracynparsons, @casualclamturkey, @crainalley0227, @auroraseddie, @brielease

#rockstar au #van palmer #van palmer x reader #van x reader #superfan #yellowjackets #yellowjackets au #lottienat #vanessa palmer #van palmer x you #van yellowjackets

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moon-ttokki-x · 2 months ago

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Hii! Your 9th member fics are what keeps me going, they're all so good. It's unbelievable!

Would it be okay for me to make a request? Maybe headcanons on how would the members act around a short reader (even shorter than Changbin)? Who would be helpful, who would be annoying? And what if the reader is the type to steal their clothes?

The brainrot is real... I'm not even shorter than Changbin... but I had a dream about it...

once i had a dream where hyunjin shaved my head so 'we could be matching' and i woke up sweating . . . another time i had a dream where jisung and i got into a dating scandal so he picked me up and ran along the beach while JYP was running after us shouting 'break up' sooooo . . . it's a stay thing

skz x short 9th member!reader

pairing: ot8!skz x short 9th member!reader

summary: how skz would act around a short member (who's even shorter than changbin)

genre: crack, idol! au, that's literally it. pure crack. and some fluff. also little shit!maknae line au. but. nothing else. i think.

a/n: divider by @saradika-graphics

skz masterlist

first of all

skz have decided that you are an armrest

so you can just be standing anywhere

and some member will come up to you and just

rest their arm on your head or lean on you

usually it's hyunjin bc he's tall, or minho bc he's a cheeky shit

jeongin did it once and you threatened to bite him

so he never did it again

you let chan and felix do it tho bc they're sweethearts

they don't rest their arms on your head, they do it on ur shoulder which is acceptable

han tried to do it once and he missed

and then fell over

like really badly

anyway

not a single day goes by when you don't have to ask someone to get something down from somewhere for you

perpetual aching in your tippy toes from how much you stand on them

you do try to be helpful, just at a lower level

during dance practices, you're always the one to turn the studio music on or off bc it's closer to the floor

you just bend down and tap the music off

which saves most of the members backache ahem chan

especially felix, who has back issues and isn't supposed to be doing that kind of stuff

sometimes you just turn the music off altogether and disrupt everyone

which results in a defeated lecture from chan and an intense glare from minho

he loves you really

you also spend most of your time thrown over changbin's shoulder

he's overjoyed to have a member who's shorter than him

most of the members usually poke your sides and try to make changbin drop you

they stopped doing that after you accidentally kicked seungmin in the chest

puppy didn't talk to you for two days

you also love stealing their clothes

they're just so comfy !! and they smell good !!

they're also ideal to sleep in bc they're so oversized, so it's like a blanket in itself

you can just pass out anywhere

like a kitten

and you usually get carried back to the dorm like a child

being the shortest also means being the brunt of most of skz's teasing

at this point the boys care more about your height than they do about chan's age

which says something

but they know when to stop, because they know what it's like to be teased about something they can't control

so even though they can be annoying, they also try to make things easy for you

you hang out with jeongin a lot

you two maknaes kind of found each other and as a result, spend a lot of time together

which usually means you passing out at jeongchan's dorm instead of the minsung dorm

did i mention you live with minsung ??

anyway

most of the time you're splayed out in innie's bed

or when he has a late schedule and you're waiting at the dorm for him, chan lets you sleep in his bed

and then forgets that you're in there

so when he actually decides to sleep he gets the scare of his life because you're curled up under the sheets

you def own lots and lots of chunky boots and platforms

you love that sort of stuff, not just because of the height it gives you

also useful to kick people

especially sasaengs

but the maknae line comes in handy for that sooo....

no need tbh

honestly i think any of them would be willing to fight for you

even hyunjin

(even tho hes a stick figure and has the combat strength of a singular wet penne pasta)

in reality, you really do try your best for skz and work as hard as you can

often it's the guys who tell you to take breaks or help you to slow down

bc you're just so go go go all the time

and you don't realise how tired you are until changbin sits you down on the couch

and felix hands you a bowl of something hot to eat

being with them is one of the best things that has ever happened to you

no matter how short you are, it doesn't matter

bc you want to be with them as long as possible no matter what the circumstances are !!

a/n: i like the divider hehe

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urhoneycombwitch · 1 year ago

Text

imagine being loved by me

rockstar!Eddie Munson x Reader your love has stood the test of time, thus far, but a New Year's Eve party fit for a rockstar brings up some bitter emotions.

foreword: timeline is wobbly and may not align perfectly w canon bc I’m bad at math so shhhh suspend ur disbelief. based on this anon thank you v much anon <3

cw: drugs and alcohol consumption, mentions of weight gain (Eddie’s, in a positive manner), R has panic/anxiety attack, jealousy (talked about and resolved tho), softdom!Reader, softdom!Eddie, oral (E and R receiving), R has breasts + a V and referred to with she/her pronouns, P in V sex, cumming inside w/out protection

wc: 8k

___

It’s the coldest January Hawkins has seen in ages. Snow banks sit high on the roadsides, air thick with snowflakes, three-AM fog brought in courtesy of the bitter wind chill.

Under the yellow floodlight of a nearby streetlamp, your boyfriend is sucking down the last of a joint while you stamp your feet against the gravel parking lot.

“C’mon, Eddie,” you whine, crossing the arms of your fleeced puffer jacket, bouncing on your heels to keep the blood flowing. “My toes are gonna get frostbite.”

“A touch dramatic,” Eddie replies, unbothered. The cherry of the joint between his lips burns orange, casting a warm glow over Eddie’s cheekbones, the twinkle of snowflakes caught in his bangs. “I told you to go in without me, princess. Warmer in there.”

“Without you? As if.” You pull the pity card, and it works, ‘cuz it always does- that boy has got to learn how to say no to you, one of these days.

Not today, though, because Eddie is tamping out the ember on the sole of his boot and crunching up the snowy path to sling an arm around your neck.

“Grub time,” he says against your hair, pressing his cold lips to the side of your forehead as you both make your way into Benny’s Burgers.

The heated air is a welcome relief, and save for a couple of old-timers at a side table, you and Eddie are the only customers in the place.

Benny greets you both from where he’s flipping patties on the kitchen grill, waving a spatula at the corner booth- “All yours, kiddos. Want the usual?”

You and Eddie call out affirmatives as you sink into opposing seats, unwrapping yourselves from all your winter gear as you go.

“God bless Benny Hammond for expanding his night hours,” you say, piling your green scarf on the tabletop. “This is a good tradition for us, y’know. Post-band practice smoking and coffee- very rock and roll.”

“I concur.” Eddie tosses his knit hat at you playfully. “You, my lady, have the most rock ‘n roll soul I ever did see.”

As Benny approaches with two mugs of steaming coffee, you muse aloud, “Not sure if the amount of sugar you’re about to dump in your coffee is very metal, per se...”

“Y’hear that, Benny?” Eddie grabs a fistful of sugar packets and shakes them indignantly. “My girl’s trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. How’s a rockstar s’posed to live in these conditions?”

“Lord knows,” Benny says, sardonic, setting the mugs down and turning back to the kitchen.

Eddie winces as his hands wrap around the heat of the mug, and you notice right away. “Your fingers splitting again? I have that salve that you used last time, but it’s back at the trailer.”

He puts his hand face-up onto the table, and you slip yours into his, the deep fingertip grooves from guitar strings rough against your soft palm.

“I’ll live. Plus, it’s kind of metal, right?” Eddie runs a calloused thumb across the back of your hand.

You squeeze back, give him a wink. “Very metal.”

Eddie’s been working himself to the bone lately. Trying to stay in school and not drop out is a feat in itself, but compounded with the band practices that have only ramped up in length recently, it’s a lot to balance.

He hasn’t complained at all, of course. It’s not really in his nature.

In the past few weeks, however, he’s been imbued with this near-manic energy, a renewed sense of purpose. In between your own fitful sleeps you often wake in the early hours of the morning to find Eddie hunched over his desk, pen flying across his notebook as he reworks an old song or outlines a new one. Not that you weren’t proud of him before, but seeing him apply this newfound passion to his music has been a huge source of joy for you.

And, if you’re being really honest, also a major turn on. I mean, the boy’s got swagger like no other, and you’re so glad he’s finally utilizing it on stage. Even if that stage is in the middle of a piece of shit dive bar. Still counts, in your book.

Benny drops off baskets of hot fries, a burger for Eddie, and a BLT for you. Methodic and familiar, you offload half your fries to Eddie’s basket as he slides his burger towards you for the first bite.

After a few minutes of peaceful eating, Eddie balls up a napkin in his fist and raps the table with his knuckles. “So, uh. Kind of have some news.”

You slot the ketchup bottle back into its metal holder and look up with raised brows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looks suddenly nervous, knee knocking into the underside of the table as he bounces his leg compulsively. “You remember Paige Warner? Graduated in ‘81, brother is a baseball jock?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath- his unease is kind of setting you on edge.

“What about Paige Warner?” you prompt.

“She moved out to L.A. for a job and she’s working this scouting gig for some bigshot record,” he continues, absently pulling the thin napkin in his hands into pieces, staring vacantly at the mess. “And she wants Corroded Coffin to record and send out a demo to the label.”

As the news sinks in, your jaw drops. “Holy shit. What?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s fidgeting with the paper scraps now, still not making eye contact with you. “She wants us to start recording next week. I haven’t told anyone else, yet, I wanted to make sure you were the first-”

You interrupt him with an excited little squeal (drawing glares from the old guys across the diner) and shove up from your side of the table to throw your arms around Eddie.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, laughing as Eddie pulls you into his lap- “Eddie, that’s amazing!”

“You think so?” he asks, your enthusiasm allowing his own to creep in; He slides his hands to your denim-clad hips, his self-professed favorite stress toy (well, tied for favorite with your thighs).

“How come you were so nervous to tell me?” You ask him, gently, tucking his dark hair behind his ears so you can see his face better. “Were you thinking I’d react differently?”

He looks up at you wide-eyed, shakes his head- “No, no, I wasn’t worried about you reacting a certain way. I just… I’m just worried about what this’ll mean. You know. For us.”

“Us?” You echo, encouraging him to continue.

Eddie squeezes at your hips, presses the crown of his head against your collarbone like he’s mustering up the courage to speak. “Yeah, us. I know L.A. isn’t your dream- shit, I don’t even know if it’s mine- but you didn’t sign up to go on the road like this. You’ve got college to consider, and-”

“So I’ll take a gap year,” you interrupt, putting a hand to his cheek to make him look at you again, and when he starts to protest, you talk over him. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my life yet anyways. Following my hot rockstar boyfriend to a new town sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

He shakes his head again, and you can feel his dimples spring to life under your hand as he teases, “Gonna be my little groupie?”

“And more,” you confirm, giving him a kiss (chaste, so as not to invoke any more ire from the grumpy other customers) and sliding off his lap to return to your own seat. “I’ll be your assistant extraordinaire, if you want. Or bodyguard. Make sure none of the other groupie chicks get too close.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. “You’re the only groupie I need, sweetheart.”

Settling back into your respective seats, you both work on the last basket of fries while chatting genially about the future. Eddie mentions getting an apartment in Los Angeles, so there’s less of a commute, which branches the conversation into the logistics of a cross-country move, and then on to more important topics such as the alleged coolness of west-coast parties.

“Who’s your celebrity hall pass?” you ask, out of pure interest, dipping a fry into the well of ketchup. “Like, say you’re rubbing elbows at some famous muckety-muck’s party and someone catches your eye. Who’re you taking back to the motel for a slutty roll in the hay?”

Eddie snickers at your phrasing, then says, “I mean, preferably, my super hot girlfriend-”

You throw a fry at his head. “That’s such a cop-out answer. In this hypothetical, Joan Jett is in red leather petting up on you and you’re saying you wouldn’t take her up on a one-night stand?”

A laugh bursts out of Eddie, a real, proper one where he throws his head back. “Are you actively encouraging me to hook up with some bimbo at a random party? Without you? Unlikely scenario on all fronts, babe.”

This earns him another launched fry, and he squawks, trying to shake it out of its place caught in his hair as you reprimand him- “Joan Jett is not some bimbo, watch your mouth! And what I’m saying is, if you didn’t at least try to score us a threesome with her, I’d be pissed.”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie soothes you a tad derisively, likely a ploy to avoid more flying food- “if I meet Joan Jett I will do my level best to get her in our bed. Scout’s honor.”

He holds up two fingers and wiggles them obscenely, grinning when you laugh again. “All right, Nosey McGee. Who are you taking home from the party?”

You hum, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, contemplating the options. “I guess I could be talked into a night with Kirk Hammett.”

Eddie’s turn to launch a fry. “You slut,” he chuckles, “That was a way quicker answer than mine.”

“Okay, fine. If I meet Kirk Hammett, I promise to at least make a bid for threesome. Deal?” You extend your pinkie across the table.

Eddie loops his little finger into yours. “Deal.”

____

The memory of that cozy diner evening years ago fades as you shake yourself to the present.

You aren’t two highschool kids with lofty dreams, anymore- after Eddie’s recovery from all that Upside Down bullshit in ‘86, Corroded Coffin took off. Even though Paige didn’t end up coming through with any deals, Eddie and his bandmates fought like hell to get signed- and by the end of that year, a small record label in the heart of downtown Chicago had taken the bait.

Corroded Coffin turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to Arken Records; by the spring of ‘87, business was booming thanks to the help of Corroded’s debut album, The Banished Ones- their new single was a chart-topper for over 6 weeks. (Smash Hit magazine’s latest review was titled “Fresh Sound Rises from Dirt Nowhere.” You have the paper clipping saved in your ever-growing folder with “rockstar boyfriend!!!” handwritten in black ink.)

And in a few weeks, the band will set off on their first real tour, starting in Chicago and ending with a bang in an already sold-out show in Hawkins- Dustin, Steve, and the rest of the gang with VIP front-row seats, of course.

As much as you and Eddie have grown and matured in the past few years, the core of you both has remained the same. Eddie is still just as dorky, goofy, and caring as he always has been, while you’ve kept that tenacious spirit and quick wit that he fell in love with back in the early days of dating. Even now, with his popularity rising and his rockstar dreams on their way to coming true, Eddie constantly brings his focus back to you.

Pillow talks in cushy hotel beds, late night ramblings over post-show whiskeys, holding hands in the back of yet another cab- when he could be talking about the thousands of exciting things happening in his own life, Eddie is asking about you.

Did you talk to Robin last night, sweetheart? How’s ‘ol Birdie doin? What do you wanna wear to that dinner thingy tomorrow… could go naked for all I care. In fact you probably should because of feminism and all that. Did you sleep okay last night? Let me look at ya. You thinkin’ any more about those applications you got?

You’d taken a gap year to support Eddie, which you were happy to do, but with ‘87 drawing to a close, he’s been more insistent lately that you take a look at all your college options. Honestly, you’ve been enjoying the adventures that come with touring way too much to consider going back to the rigidity of school.

And plus, having the love of your life nearly bleed out in your arms in a parallel dimension has totally realigned your priorities. If folks thought you and Eddie were attached at the hip before…

He’ll likely argue you into academia, eventually. He always rolls high on persuasion. Damn him.

For now, you’ve got a party to attend.

Arken Records is playing host, on the last night of 1987- in celebration of Corroded Coffin’s success and to kick off the New Year’s festivities, they’ve rented out a house in east Chicago for the event.

Well, house isn’t the right word. More like mansion. Vaulted ceilings tall as a church’s, huge windows overlooking the Chicago river, a grand chandelier with flickering candles in nearly every room.

When you and Eddie had toured the place a few days previous, he’d made a joking complaint low in your ear about not having the time to fuck you on every surface. Your laugh had reverberated off the sweeping mahogany floorboards, mostly at the expense of Eddie’s poor publicist who’d happened to hear his comment. (Melanie had really been putting in overtime lately; you made a mental note to send her a very nice flower arrangement and vouchers for a spa trip.)

The party was in full swing by the time you and Eddie arrived, fashionably late, and he had been folded into the throng of other musicians and partygoers against his will pretty much immediately- which you’d expected. The last hour, he’s been throwing you piteous looks from his spot across the room, where he hasn’t had the chance to move an inch with the amount of people keeping the conversation going. You’ve slipped to his side a few times, refreshing his drink, letting him curl an arm around your waist as you perch on his knee, only half-focused on whatever story some producer is saying as Eddie’s hand trails up your thigh.

You’re back on the nearest wall again, sipping champagne, taking it all in. There are probably over a hundred people crammed into this banquet room, bass thumping through the floorboards, tables shoved to the outer corners making space for a makeshift dance space.

The air is hazy with smoke from various cigarettes and joints; as the night has progressed, the smell of freshly-applied cologne has been replaced with heady sweat as the dance floor calls more people to writhe and grind in groups and partners. Eddie is still stuck in the lone pod of living room chairs, surrounded by a rapt audience of people crammed in to hear him better over the blaring music.

He looks damn good tonight, in a cut-off black tee and his favorite ripped jeans, leather jacket hung on the chair behind him. Silver catches the light from every angle- on the chains at his hips, around his neck, glinting off his rings as he gestures animatedly mid-story. He’d asked you to do his eyeliner at the hotel earlier, and although it’s smudged and blurred at the edges now he’s still pulling it off. Tiny silver stars, hand-drawn with your eyeshadow brush, twinkle across his cheeks like freckles.

Eddie wanted to match with you, whined until you added a belt made of gold-plated stars to your outfit. You went simple, the gold to his silver- belt cinching your short black satin slip dress, delicate brass rings and bracelets around your fingers and bare forearms. The one piece of silver you are wearing is a chain around your neck, Eddie’s guitar pick nestled snug between your breasts.

You still resolutely refuse to wear heels, even after Eddie’s stylist cajoled you into practicing on stilettos for a disastrous media training session last month- tonight you’re in a chic pair of Mary Janes with the slightest suggestion of a heel. Compromise.

There’s a big laugh from the crowd in the corner again as Eddie knocks a hand into Gareth’s chest for emphasis, nearly knocking the younger boy off his seat. You stare unabashedly at Eddie’s forearms, biceps on full display; he’s filled out a bit since leaving home, his usually lean frame boasting a bit more weight and bulk now that he’s got consistent access to well-rounded meals.

He’s looking healthy, down right glowy. You’re thinking about that smattered trail of dark hair that slides down the crest of his stomach, now with extra padding enough to sink your teeth into. As if he knows, Eddie catches your eye from across the room and winks, cheekily.

You shiver and unconsciously press your thighs together, hiding your grin with another swallow of champagne.

The alcohol turns a bit sour going down, though, as a crimped-haired blonde girl worms her way to Eddie’s side, laughing a little too loudly at the joke he just told. When she places a manicured hand on one of his shoulders, the thin stem of your glass nearly snaps in your grip.

The thing about rockstars is they have crazy sex appeal. The thing about your rockstar is he’s only interested in you, something that has been proved many times over.

So why is tonight hitting you so hard? Why do you feel nauseous the longer Eddie lets some random woman’s hand stay on his bare skin when you know he’s going home with you, and only you?

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the overcrowded room, or the memories of Benny’s diner still lingering like a bruise in your mind. Hard to pinpoint exactly. All you know is that jealousy is gnawing like a thing raw and seeking in the pit of your stomach, and if you don’t get out of this stuffy room soon you’re gonna do something tabloid-worthy, like cry in the middle of a New Year’s Eve party.

By the grace of some god you make it across the dance floor and into a side bathroom unscathed, the pulsing sound of the party blissfully dimming as you shut the door behind you. Your mind whirls as you grip the gilded sink for stability, blinking hard at the tears beginning to form.

You love having a boyfriend who’s larger than life. You love that he’s taking up space and getting to use that charm that was nurtured on the DM throne back in Hawkins. You’re so proud of him, you really are.

You’re just starting to hate the way other people’s surface-level love of him makes you feel.

Because that’s what it is, right? Just surface-level, you reason with yourself- the level of intimacy that you and Eddie have is unmatched, something that the newly-formed masses of admirers won’t ever get to experience.

Christ, can jealousy give you hives? You grab a handful of paper towels and soak them in cold tap water, then press the damp bundle to your chest, breath stuttering.

You’ve never been the jealous type, or the overbearing type- it’s a new feeling, and maybe that’s why it feels so scary. The more you try to tamp it down, the more it rears its ugly head, making you, in turn, feel embarrassed for having such a strong reaction in the first place.

It’s a vicious cycle that’s only seeming to gain speed as you realize you haven’t yet managed a full breath since coming to your hiding spot. Your lungs are pinched and burning as you drop the soggy paper into the sink, leaning into the lip of the porcelain to steady yourself.

There’s a knock on the door, and you choke out “Just a minute”, not sure if the person on the other side can even hear you over the music when Eddie’s voice leaks through.

“Baby? That you in there?”

Against your better judgment, you open the door, and he crams in the small space, locking it again behind himself.

“There you are, I saw you leave and thought you were getting a drink or something but then you didn’t come back and- are you okay?”

He interrupts his own stream of consciousness when he notices the state you’re in. You give him a trembly smile, waving a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, all good. I’ll come back with you, just needed to pee.”

Eddie is not so easily thrown off the scent. He murmurs your name, sliding his hand into yours, looking at you with a wounded puppy gaze- fuck, you can’t have a breakdown. Not here, not on New Year’s in some knockoff-Playboy’s bathroom.

And certainly not in front of Eddie, who’s asking you to tell him what’s wrong, what happened, with an increasingly pleading tone that’s really, really not helping your whole Don’t Cry agenda.

Hoping your voice doesn’t break, you clear your throat and pull your hand from his grasp. “Nothing happened, okay? I just had too much to drink, feeling overly sentimental or something. I’m okay.”

You think your white lie was convincing enough when Eddie reaches back for the door handle, that maybe he’ll rejoin the party and leave you to have a good cry, but after poking his head out the doorway briefly he grabs onto your wrist, tugging you to his side and hissing “Quick!”

And then you’re both making a break for it down the mostly-empty hallway, Eddie pulling you smoothly past a wall of expensive-looking oil paintings before going through a set of double doors that lead to the outside.

It’s December in Chicago, which means a light layer of snow covers the terraced garden that Eddie is leading you through, stopping at a stone bench flanked by two scraggly bushes.

“Made it,” he huffs with exertion, dropping your hand to shrug his leather jacket off in favor of draping it around your own shoulders.

“You’re gonna be cold,” you sniffle, partly from the tears, partly from the crisp night air.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily, wrapping you in a hug. You press your forehead to his chest. “Got my girl to keep me warm, though.”

You stay like this for a few moments, his arms solid around you, breaths coming easier as the familiar smell of his tangy skin and that spicy bar soap he uses fills your senses.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, gently, holding you at arm’s length to study your face.

When you shrug, unsure of where to start, he lets go of you and walks backwards, taking an unflinching seat on the snow-covered bench.

You gasp despite yourself, reaching to pull him up even as he twists out of your grasp- “Eddie, jesus, you’re literally gonna freeze your ass off. Get up!”

But he’s solid in his seat, widening his stance, boots planted on the ground- “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, so you better start talking before my jeans freeze to the concrete.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, but he’s giving you that look again, the one that cracks through the tough exterior every time, and you wrap your arms around yourself under the warmth of his jacket as you admit, “Okay, fine. It’s something. I’m just… having an overreaction.”

“To the shellfish?” he deadpans.

“No, asshole, to the blonde girl who was rubbing up on you earlier,” you snap.

Eddie blinks, genuine confusion in his voice- “There was a blonde girl… rubbing up on me?”

“She was petting your shoulder,” you continue, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground. “She was touching you, and I got- jealous, I guess.”

“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember her, at all,” Eddie emphasizes, spreading a palm flat against his chest in a gesture of sincerity, hair shifting across his shoulders as he cocks his head to the side.

His face is too familiar, too earnest for you to be able to say what you’re feeling without bursting into tears, so you turn on your heel, pacing a short loop in front of the bench, your breath hanging in misty clouds as you speak.

“It’s not even about her, necessarily. It’s about me and my stupid emotions. I’m not usually like this- jealous, you know? Like, I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve accomplished, and I don’t mind sharing you, really I don’t, it’s just…”

You pause in your pacing, let your head drop back to look at the inky black sky pinpricked with stars, and your next words fall out like a confession.

“I just feel like I’m in mourning.”

You can feel his eyes on you still, as you loose the feeling that’s been caught tight in your chest. “It sounds so dramatic, when I say it like that. But I think that’s what it is. I miss when it was just the two of us, in this little bubble where no one knew our names and we just had each other.”

As the words leave your mouth, you scramble to explain, to soften the blow, hands tightening around your upper arms as you turn back to face the boy on the bench. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, or, like, a total jealous bitch, because I really love you and I hope you know I’m not- are you laughing?”

Eddie tries his best to stifle the laughter into his fist when he sees how indignant you look. He rises from the bench, still a bit mirthful, pulling you back into his space. “Sorry, honey, I’m not making fun of you, I promise.”

You’re glaring at him now, and he ducks to kiss at the lines between your brow before pulling back and saying, “I think what you’re feeling is normal, and I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. Remember that asshole at the Smith Center party who kept trying to get your number right in front of me?”

“Vaguely.”

“I wanted to punch his lights out. Make a real scene, kiss you sloppy in front of some cameras.” Eddie cups your face in his hands, soothing his thumb against the wetness of your lashline. “What I’m saying is, I get jealous, too. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“But…” there’s a well of emotions that you’re drawing from, and it’s not empty yet, one nagging thought still surfacing. “But these girls that are coming on to you, they’re like… really hot. I don’t look anything like them.”

Eddie frowns. “Are you seriously trying to make a case for yourself on the grounds of not being really hot? That’s not gonna hold up in court, gorgeous. I mean… have you even looked in a mirror recently?”

He lightly taps his knuckle against your head, trying to get you to crack a smile, but you’re not ready to give in yet.

“You don’t think you’ll get bored of me?” you whisper, dropping your eyes from his consuming gaze to the wyvern inked on the inside of his arm.

“Sweetheart…” Eddie sounds genuinely pained. The ink in his skin stretches as he slips a hand to the back of your neck, cold rings against your skin making you shiver. “I couldn’t ever get bored of you. Not in a million years. We've been through too much together for you to think like that, hm?”

He strokes his thumb down the column of your neck, those doey brown eyes on you again. “Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever be jealous, ‘cuz god knows it makes me hot under the collar when you are. But I’m sayin’ I never wanna make you feel like you need to earn me, okay?”

His thumb tracks back up to the hollow of your jaw, taps twice questioningly, and you nod, letting out a shaky, “Okay.”

When he kisses you, it feels like every other time- comfortable, grounding, familiar. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips, and you let him lick into your mouth, gripping at his arms, flushing hot as you give it back to him in spades.

With a short groan, he pulls back, a wet click as your mouths separate- “As much as I wanna jump your bones in this wintry wonderland, I think the snow might’ve actually frozen my balls off.”

You giggle, spanning your hands around the meat of his waist, kissing up into his mouth again- “Poor baby. Want me to warm ‘em up in my mouth?”

He gives a solid smack to your ass for that, his palm smoothing over the stinging skin with condescension when you yelp- “All dish and no take, baby? Not exactly fair.”

____

Despite your weak protestations that you both should probably rejoin the party, at least until midnight, Eddie insists on taking you back to the hotel.

“This party blows, anyways,” he says over his shoulder to you as he leads you back through the halls of the house. “If I hear one more Tears for Fears track I might throw myself into the river from one of the hundred balconies in this place.”

He manages to track down Melanie with some effort, winding his way through the throng of people to where she’d been chatting with a reporter, plucking at her elbow to get her away from the crowd and into the quieter hallway with you.

“We gotta scoot, Mel,” he tells her, really hamming up the charm as the young publicist widens her eyes. “Think you can get us a ride outta here?”

“Mr. Munson, you can’t just leave,” Melanie insists, frazzled. “Someone from Rolling Stone has been waiting for the last hour to talk to you, if you could just-”

“No can do.” Eddie shakes his head, mock-apologetic. “There’s been an accident. Of a personal nature.”

You manage to choke down your laughter as Eddie turns around to show off the dark stains on the back of his jeans. They’re just wet from the snow that he sat in earlier, of course, but it looks convincing enough to make Melanie blanch and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll have a cab out front in ten for you both. Please keep a low profile until then.”

Eddie gives a sharp salute and you mouth an apology at her before she retreats to find a phone.

Okay, so maybe add a hefty bonus to that Nice Things for Melanie list of yours.

____

One of the perks of having a rockstar for a boyfriend is the sweet digs- the label shelled out for Chicago’s finest penthouse suite; an entire luxurious upper floor with a private elevator, windows overlooking the far-below city lights, and a sunken bath big enough for two.

Also included? Soundproof walls.

A perk you’re very grateful for as Eddie walks you backwards into the room, sucking a mark with stinging teeth into your neck as you moan, then giggle breathily, admonishing- “Christ, Eddie, slow down. We have all night.”

Eddie pulls back just far enough to frown down at you, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to squeeze at your ass. His rings are cold against your bare flesh, and he grins when you shiver. “Uh huh. Sure do have all night. You gonna take advantage of that?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, cheekily, but that smirk drops from his face in record time the second you shove him to the bed. As his knees give out in favor of sitting on the mattress, you steady your hands against his broad shoulders to swing yourself into his lap.

Eddie’s looking up at you, cinnamon eyes darkened with lust- it makes your stomach flip something awful. Your skin feels alight with heat as Eddie’s hands drip like water down your sides, then to your parted thighs.

You sigh into his mouth as his fingers trace the front of your underwear, the silk sticky with your arousal.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says, equal parts admonishment and pitying as you squirm into his touch. “What’s got you this worked up, hm?”

He’s asking like he doesn’t know- like he didn’t tease you with filthy whispers and wandering hands in the back of the car the whole way here.

“Whaddya think,” you scoff, not quite ready to give in yet, enjoying the thrill of being cagey as Eddie hooks a finger to tuck your panties to the side.

He grins, simmering, enjoying the chase just as much as you. His middle finger swipes through your folds and you shudder in his arms, hands tightening into the meat of his shoulders as he brings the wetness up to your clit.

Eddie rubs quick, steady circles until you’re mewling, bucking hips grinding down to seek more friction. You can feel the wetness seeping out of your core, dampening his jeans as he licks back into your mouth, capturing the soft noises you’re making as he winds you up.

“Can’t believe a pretty thing like you has anything to be jealous of.” Eddie noses at the spot under your jaw, and when you let your head fall back on a hinge to grant him access, he sucks another mark into the column of your throat. “‘M all yours, sweetheart. You gonna take what’s yours?”

Truth be told, your mind went fuzzy the second Eddie got his hands on your clit, the consistent build of pleasure sparking between your legs rather distracting. You’d almost forgotten how the night had started, but you let the jealousy and possessiveness creep back in as you push at Eddie’s chest.

He goes down easily, toeing his boots off and lying flat on the mattress; big hands settle on your waist as you rest your weight into him, warm cunt pressing against the bulge of his clothed cock.

At a light drag of your nails against his bare chest and across his nipple, Eddie groans low, squeezing your hips and rucking into you.

“You’re all mine, Eddie, right?”

His pupils nearly eclipsing their soft brown irises, Eddie stares up at you like you hang the moon and stars every night just for him. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘M all yours. Lemme show you.”

Eddie pulls at the backs of your legs, helping you shuffle up his body until your knees are dipping into the mattress at either side of his head. Your core hovers just above Eddie’s mouth- you can feel his breath speed up on the inside of your thigh at this new position.

“Oh, fuck, Eddie- jesus… christ,” the last word ending in a moan as Eddie’s tongue licks a wet stripe through your folds.

He pulls you closer with an arm over each thigh until you’re sitting on his face, his nose hitting your clit with each tilt of his head. You’ve got no idea how he’s able to breathe down there but you’re hardly able to hold onto that thought when his tongue has started plunging in and out of you.

Automatically, your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself- one hand goes to the headboard and the other ends up in his hair, gripping the roots hard. Eddie groans, sending vibrations that make your cunt clench around his lithe tongue.

“Like the taste of my pussy, baby?” you coo down at him, regaining some of your breath to give him attitude.

Reaching a hand back to palm at his cock, you say “No one else can have you like this, hm?”

Eddie catches your eyes as he mouths wetly at your clit, then sucks it into his mouth. Your thighs shake around his ears, your orgasm unfurling in clenching ripples.

“Oh, yeah, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming- just like that, fuck fuck fuck…”

He doesn’t stop suckling at you until you’re gushing around his mouth, then pulling him off by his hair to make him stop.

Eddie heaves in a breath, kissing at the inside of your thigh, his lips and chin shiny with your release. “God, baby. Such pretty noises for me.”

“Mhm.” You shuffle down until your hips are aligned over his, then lean in to lick his mouth clean. “Gonna make some pretty ones for me, now?”

After helping pull his shirt off, Eddie whines softly as you press kisses down his bare chest, and by the time your mouth is pressing over that dark trail of hair that leads into his denim, Eddie’s begging.

“Please, angel, please- need your mouth. Do anything for it, baby, please…”

You rub your cheek against his bulge before pulling back to pop the button on his jeans, then help him shift them down and off his body. Once his black briefs join the growing pile of floor clothes, Eddie’s completely bare and at your mercy.

He gets on his elbows to watch as you mouth at the inside of his thigh, dark hair splayed around his shoulders, chest heaving when you ignore his leaking cock in favor of grazing your teeth against a sensitive spot. “Fuckin’- christ, sweetheart. Come on. Please?”

“Sound pretty when you beg,” you say, mildly, kissing across his heavy sack, hiding a smile when the contact makes him jolt. “Gonna do it some more?”

You keep eye contact as you take one of his balls into your mouth, watching his own eyes roll back so far you can see the whites of them as you use your tongue on him.

“-yeah, baby, yeah- just like that- fucking, fuck, you’re killin’ me…”

Eddie sounds wrecked already, and a hot flush of pride courses through your body at the knowledge that he could come from just this and it’d be you getting him there.

You mouth over to the other side of his sack, rolling the skin wiry with coarse hair against your tongue as Eddie moans above you. When your hand wraps around the base of his cock, starting to move in tandem with the pull of your mouth, Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched.

A line of drool breaks and hits wet against your chin as you straighten up, settling yourself into the V of his legs and using his thighs as handholds while you begin to kiss up the line of his leaking cock.

He’s got a gorgeous dick, truly. Thick and long, curving slightly to the right, a pretty blue vein snaking up the underside that you lathe your tongue against, seeking out the salty brine at the ruddy head.

Eddie moans, brokenly, white-knuckled hands twisting into the sheets. When your mouth closes around the tip, his elbows give out, leaving him flat against the mattress as you work his length further in.

“Oh my god. Oh, fuck, baby. Please don’t stop. Please. Y’feel so good…”

You hum around the stretch of him in your mouth, relaxing your throat to draw him in a bit more. The spiky jealousy from earlier really is your biggest motivator here; covetous, you’re thinking back to all those first times with Eddie- trembling hands under your bedsheets back in Hawkins, stilted voices and giggles to cover up the awkwardness of trying to learn the other person’s body.

No one will ever know him like you do. No one will ever have all that shared history, those fumbling nights that slowly turned to lovesick days; memories of him on his knees for you, learning all the little things that make you tick, memorizing the song of your body.

The boy is all yours.

Your throat automatically constricts at the intrusion of Eddie’s cock slipping past your soft palate- his hips cant up, which you can hardly fault him for, patient as he’s been with your retrospective and teasing.

Before he can apologize you’re sitting up, wiping at the excess drool with the back of your hand and shucking your dress over your head, letting it and your belt fall to the floor with a soft clunk.

Eddie reaches for you again as you slide your panties down and off, and you let him help you up his body, your knees coming to rest alongside the lightly raised scar tissue at his sides. You stroke a hand down his chest, giving in to a moment of softness before seating yourself fully in Eddie’s lap.

His hands snap to your hips, a near-brutal squeeze as you sink onto his cock. The stretch is always an adjustment, but you’re so wet right now that he slides in easily, a breathy moan from the both of you as the walls of your cunt fit snug around his sizeable length.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” The crown of Eddie’s head is pressed back into the bed, veins in his taut neck on full display as your hips start to swivel, blunt nails scraping into the soft flesh of your waist. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck me.”

With your knees planted on either side of his body, you begin to bounce in steady, rhythmic earnest, going for gold, the desire to bring your boy to the babbling edge overtaking every other thought.

“Feel so good, Eds, so big… can barely fit…” There’s a wet squelch accompanying each bounce now, slick dripping down to the base of his cock, your vice of a cunt flexing with every movement.

“S’all you, baby,” Eddie rasps out, toes curling in the efforts to keep his orgasm at bay for awhile longer. “Got a perfect pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

He’s almost in delirium territory, with you chasing after that bright unwinding pleasure at both of your cores; your hips stutter, hands flat on Eddie’s chest to center yourself, a hunger that you can’t seem to satiate gnawing at the edges.

Eddie notices immediately, feels the falter in your motion and brings his hands to your forearms, rubbing a path up them soothingly- “What’s wrong, angel, hm?”

You’re not sure how to put it into words, wishing (not for the first time) that you could just rest your forehead against his and transmit all the complexities of your emotions through touch alone.

Instead, you sigh out the name that you use when you’re done with taking, a name that lights Eddie up from head to toe as you say it- “Teddy.”

In one swift movement, Eddie slips an arm behind your back and flips you to the mattress, his hair a curtain around both your faces as he leans in to whisper against your mouth- “Teddy’s got you. Arms around me.”

You’re quick to obey, looping your arms around Eddie’s wide shoulders. He slides one hand up the back of your leg, pushing a knee up until it’s at your chest, mouth dropping open briefly when the new angle allows the head of his cock to kiss against that gummy upper wall of your cunt.

“Bored of you,” he huffs, recalling your words from earlier with disdain. “You’re talkin’ to the guy who memorized the first six chapters of The Hobbit just to recite for your bedtime.”

A quick thrust of his pelvis into yours has your stomach clenching in anticipation, brows on a tilt and knitting together as Eddie grins down at you. “Got a wicked attention span, baby. Lemme show you.”

He starts slow, agonizingly so, every inch of his thick cock dragging in and out, wetness pooling down your ass and probably the sheets, too; errant thoughts of housekeeping are rapidly erased as Eddie begins snapping his hips into yours in faster tempo.

He’s working to find that spot, the one that turns your brain to mush and is guaranteed to cause full-body muscle fatigue from the force of your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pushing into Eddie’s chest, one arm still supporting your lower back as he laughs hoarsely, half-amazement and half-pride.

“That’s the spot, huh, sweetheart? Atta girl. M’all yours. Take it. Good girl…”

With each thrust, the wiry patch of hair dusted across Eddie’s pubic bone grinds slick and filthy against your clit. You’re so close to the edge now, a wave of pleasure cresting as you look up at Eddie.

There are two thin tracks of black makeup trailing down his face from where tears have made a mess of his eyeliner; rosy spots of flushed color in his cheeks, eyes like twin pools of chocolate, locked with yours as he rocks into you.

He’s learned the song of your body so well, knows every chord to strike- his hand leaves your leg to grasp at your breast, calloused palm against pebbled nipple sending more shockwaves through your body, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you sing for him.

“All yours,” you gasp out, and it feels like victory when his hips stutter and the cresting wave crashes around you both at the same time.

The pleasure roils through your gut, clit throbbing and cunt spasming around Eddie’s cock as he spills into you.

A wrecked, broken string of moans leaves you as you ride out the highs together. Eddie presses his forehead to your collarbone as he chants your name, twitching out the last of his spend, warmth blooming inside.

The quiet that follows is filled with shaking breaths, soft kisses, murmurs of “good job, sweetheart” as you both float back down to earth.

Eddie stays in you for longer than usual, his draped weight a grounding comfort as you trail gentle fingertips up and down his skin, lovingly against the scars that interrupt the smooth flesh of his back. Through the closed windows, you can hear the distant sounds of car horns and the deep boom of fireworks.

Sometime in the last foggy hour of lovemaking, 1987 has given way to a new year.

Eddie pulls his heavy head up from your chest to press kisses to your collarbone. “Happy new year, lover.”

You tuck his hair behind his ears, hands squishing lightly at his cheeks to bring his face close enough for a kiss. “Happy new year to you. Hell of a way to kick it off.”

Eventually, Eddie extricates himself from the intoxicating heat of your body (with minimal whining) and brings a warm washcloth to tenderly wipe away the mess between your thighs. Once you’re both cleaned up, he stretches out against the sheets, pulling the covers up as you hook a leg around his waist and snuggle in.

“So I was thinking,” he starts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wanna take a trip back to Hawkins. Before the tour.”

Your hand stills in its rhythmic circles against Eddie’s chest; heart in your throat, you tilt your chin up so you can gauge Eddie’s reaction. “...yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picks up your hand on his chest, twining his fingers with your as his other hand settles on your bare hip beneath the sheets. “Could visit Wayne for a few days, fool around in that twin bed like we’re teens again.”

He grins at your giggle, taps playfully at your hip- “Gonna parade you around all our old haunts. You’ve gotten even hotter since we left, babe. Gotta really rub it in the faces of those Hawkins Tigers burnouts whose best dates are their own left hands.”

You snort, and Eddie looks pleased again, but then sobers a bit before saying- “I mean, I’ve got my piece of home with me. But I think it could be good, to visit. Just the two of us.”

You’re quiet for a moment, a longing for home that you’ve managed to ignore these past few years resurfacing. “Can we get high and go to that diner? I mean, Nell’s isn’t as good as Benny’s was, but I’ve been craving a Hawkins milkshake.”

“Christ.” Eddie hides his smile in the crook of your neck, dimples springing to life. “You could ask for the Mona Lisa and I’d find a way to get it to you. Fries and a milkshake, that all I need to keep my girl happy?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a contented noise as Eddie settles against your chest again. “That’s all I need.”

___

thank u thank u for reading if you made it this far have a little kiss from me to you <3 xx lulu

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie

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rewrittenwrongs · 3 months ago

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Heyyyy @mirensiart, remember months ago when I asked if writing fics based on your pain sharing AU was allowed?

I know the merfolk transformation doesn’t hurt Legend in your comic, but Legend angst is my jam. And apparently Time angst. Parts of this have been sitting untouched since last year, and recently I finally got around to finishing it and polishing everything up (not that polished tho). Consider it a late birthday gift?

If you have an Ao3 account, you can read it here. If not, click Keep reading :)

The day was actually going quite well, which should’ve been the first clue.

Legend was wary, sure, but only of the water. They were in Wild’s Hyrule, walking alongside a lake to some town Legend had forgotten the name of. He made sure to stay far away from the water. He’d prefer if that secret didn’t come out at all, let alone when they still had that pain-sharing curse the stupid wizzrobe cast on them.

Even when they reached a half-ruined dock, and Wind convinced some of the others to join him in the water, Legend was only a little concerned. Not for Wind’s safety, he could swim just fine and Wild said this river was safe. He was mostly concerned that someone might shove him in as a joke.

He knew it was an unfound fear. He’s made it clear that he didn’t want to get in water. That opened him up for jokes about being unable to swim, but nobody went as far as to see if that was true. They respected every other boundary he set, why would they ignore this one?

The wariness and concern started to grow when they were attacked.

It was at least a dozen lizalfos, mostly Wild’s, and a few of Wild’s moblins. They would’ve gotten in a sneak attack, if Hyrule hadn’t noticed them from where he was showing off his magic boots. Everyone sprung into action immediately.

Time and Warriors leapt to their feet in unison, blades meeting those of the charging moblins. Wild, sitting on a rock on the far bank, jumped to his feet and summoned a bow from his Sheikah Slate. Hyrule, standing beside him on the water, ran back to the others and tugged Wind onto land. The Four Sword and the Ordon Blade swiped at lizalfos, their wielders bedraggled and wet, and the Master Sword followed suit as a lizalfos tried to shove Sky back into the water.

Legend had just enough time to notice all that before joining the battle, ducking under a whip-like tongue before swiping his ice rod at it, encasing it in glittering white ice. His blade then met a green lizalfos’ metal boomerang, and the two of them went toe to toe for a moment. Wild had told them about the strength scaling based on pelt colour his monsters had, but Legend couldn’t remember what green scales meant on a lizalfos. He just hoped its blood wasn’t black.

Unfortunately, when Legend managed to chop off its tongue, it bled black. He swiped at its side while it screeched in pain, then slashed at the slowly defrosting lizard monster behind it, managing to shatter its leg. Revealing red veins and muscles, hm.

Shortly after, a small, stinging pain made itself known below his knee. The cut was small and didn’t belong to him anyway, so he ignored it and kept fighting, practically dancing between two lizalfos trying to slash at him. He always hated it when the monsters had weapons.

These lizalfos were annoyingly fast, too, something made clear by the sudden throbbing pain of an impact against his shoulder. Legend himself was fine, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Four on his back with a lizalfos over him. Thankfully, a few of Wild’s arrows were enough to get him back up, and the pain didn’t make anyone stumble.

That pain didn’t, but unfortunately, the next phantom injury sent Legend’s way interrupted his footing. A sharp pain right on someone’s ankle, maybe from a lizalfos’ tongue. Legend’s ankle, despite being perfectly fine, gave out for a second, forcing him to drop to the ground to dodge a swipe. He’s back on his feet in an instant, thankfully, freezing two lizalfos in place and then shattering one of them.

A third swiped at him from behind, this one with black and red scales, and when Legend’s sword met its blade it pushed back with much more strength than he expected. He took a few steps back, swiping at the monster’s muzzle. His boots clicked against the edge of the wooden dock.

The lizalfos was back on him immediately, tri-boomerang glinting with as much malice as its eyes. They danced around each other for a moment, before an arrow hit it in the shoulder, revealing blood as black as coal.

With a hiss, it leapt back, and made the clicking-gargling noise in its throat that signalled an attack.

Legend had just enough time to raise his ice rod, only to realise how bad of an idea that was as the lizalfos’ tongue ripped it from his hold.

Okay, time to get serious. Legend activated a power bracelet as the monster darted back up to him, and met its blade with equal strength, then shoved it back and swiped. The lizalfos dodged the swipe then darted in close again, and Legend’s next attack took out a tooth.

Growling in rage, the monster put all its strength into its next few swings, all fast and dangerous enough that Legend had to repeatedly step back out of range.

Another arrow embedded itself in the lizalfos’ side, before Wild’s voice called out, “I’m out of normal arrows!” Legend knew, from the distinction, that the battlefield was too chaotic to risk any elemental arrows.

That was fine. Legend wasn’t that concerned, still. Anything with black blood made a difficult fight, but he had no handicapping pain or injuries.

The lizalfos jumped back again, lowering to all fours. Legend prepared himself for the oncoming rush attack, only to be blindsided by what actually happened.

It did launch itself at him, but not before dropping its weapon. As it tackled him it grabbed his wrist, forcing his sword to a relatively harmless angle. The force of the impact threw him back, and before he knew it he could no longer feel the dock beneath his feet.

The river slammed into him with a rush of cold and a burst of bubbles. The transformation was far less lenient.

—

Time wasn’t that concerned when Legend was thrown into the lake.

He knew Wild’s lizalfos were terrible to fight in their own element, but Legend could hold his own. One hit with his ice rod and that lizard would be toast. The fight was winding down, too, they’d be able to help in a minute.

Then he remembered Legend’s aversion to water.

And then the pain started.

It slammed into him with no warning, with so much force and intensity it rivalled Twilight’s wolf transformation. All at once, he felt the pain of every bone in his legs breaking, every muscle tearing, every inch of skin ripped and ligament shred. It rushed up his spine like a tidal wave, consuming his hips, enveloping his lungs, ripping open his throat. It spared no mercy for his face, burning his ears and seemingly taking a cheese grater to his cheeks, while his eyes felt as though they’d been scooped out with a rusty fork. Even his hands ached like they were being taken apart.

The agony consumed so much of his attention, so many of his senses, that his reaction was very delayed when a lizalfos landed on top of him.

Its jaws slammed shut around his shoulder, teeth scraping against his armour. Time blinked at it dazedly, dots swimming through his vision. He was lying down? He had collapsed.

The lizalfos scraped its claws against his chestplate, and Time remembered he could move, and, in fact, should. His gauntleted hand, burning with pain, tightened around the hilt of his sword, and he managed to slam it through the monster’s side. The thing screeched then went still, heavy body slowly sliding off him, jaws going lax.

The pain in his lungs and throat was throbbing, pulsing as if with the rise and fall of breath. Time’s own breath didn’t match the tempo, as his lungs were apparently convinced breathing at all would worsen it. The pain through his eyes and skull did not lessen nor worsen when he closed his eyes, and the agony in his fingers spared no reaction when he flexed them. The worst of the feeling was still centred around his legs, from tailbone to toes and from skin to marrow, the suffering so overwhelmingly strong it was hard to think past.

It was lessening now, though. Rapidly, even. A few more moments of catching his breath, and it had dulled enough for Time to drag himself up. An ache remained through his legs and throat, and a burning sensation of someone’s wound over his thigh, as well as the usual sting of small cuts and bruises that weren’t his own, and a few that were. Time’s eyes scanned the battlefield as he slowly stood, finding the others similarly incapacitated, with the exception of Twilight, who desperately fought against four lizalfos over an unconscious Wind and an unsteady Hyrule.

Warriors was still on his back, just barely managing to skewer an attacking lizalfos. Sky had the Master Sword jammed into the jaws of one on top of him, and Time felt the way its claws were scraping against Sky’s chainmail. Four was stumbling to his feet with his eyes on Twilight.

Time found his head turning away from the battle, feeling like he was forgetting something. Wild was across the river, slowly dragging himself further upshore. The water—

The water was churning, a trio of shapes flickering beneath it. The black of a lizalfos, a smaller red shape, and a long something that flashed orange, silver, blue, and black. A light blue cap floated serenely beside the decrepit dock.

That’s what Time was forgetting.

Dropping his sword to the ground, Time rushed to the water’s edge, fumbling with his bag. He drew out his bow and quiver and nocked an arrow, firing first away from the water, to a lizalfos fighting Twilight. Warriors and Four joined the fight soon after, and shooting became too risky for someone with Time’s archery skill. He instead shot the one that had Sky pinned. It got him enough of an opening to shove it back and jump to his feet, slamming the Master Sword through its spine.

Time turned back to the water, unsure if he had time to swap his armour for his Zora tunic. He noticed Legend’s ice rod, abandoned by the foot of the dock. The water continued to churn and shapes continued to writhe beneath it. Time aimed in the direction of the disturbance, holding still until he could get a clear shot.

Abruptly, he felt claws scrape against his side, raking over his ribcage, followed shortly by the stinging impact of a lizalfos tongue. He glanced at himself despite knowing the pain wasn’t his. With a look over his shoulder it became clear the first injury must belong to Legend. Sky had joined the lizalfos fight, which Twilight had stepped away from to search through his bag. Wind had woken up with Hyrule’s help.

Another few tense moments passed. Red began to subtly stain the water. Time felt a lizalfos jaw clamp over someone’s shoulder and tug, hard, and at the same time a large tail fin splashed through the water’s surface. Dark blue and turquoise, with black edges and flashes of orange; it disappeared back under with a splash just as Time adjusted his aim. His arrow soared through the air and then the water, straight towards the giant tail connected to the fin—

Pain slammed into Time and everyone else full force. A piercing, sharp pain, a deep puncture, in the back of someone’s calf.

The blood in the water thickened, swirling around the lizalfos, Legend, and whatever other river monster must be underneath.

Nobody said it out loud, perhaps in fear of the emotional pain it might cause, but they’re all thinking the same thing.

Did that arrow hit Legend?

The possibility was already sending a wave of pressure through Time’s chest, dread and apprehension clawing at his lungs, no doubt spreading to the others.

He stayed perfectly still, fighting to breathe, while the others sprang into action. Warriors and Sky and Four quickly finished off the last of the lizalfos, while Hyrule and Wind hurried to the water’s edge. Twilight came next, running across the dock while pulling something over his head, before he dived smoothly into the water.

Time’s hand twitched. He didn’t dare draw an arrow, but didn’t put his bow down either.

Green joined the flashes of colour beneath the water. The rest of the Chain gathered by the river’s edge. They watched as the shapes moved. The colourful fin splashed through the water again, but no one fired at it. Wild, on the other side of the water, summoned some clothes with his Slate and dived in. More pain joined the collection of injuries the Chain was feeling: the rake of claws across someone’s feet, a rough impact spraining someone’s rib, the stinging impact of, probably, the lizalfos’ tongue. Slowly, the strain on someone’s lungs caused by holding their breath became present.

At last, after what felt like years, the churning of the water ceased. Wild’s head broke the surface, a dark blue cap on the back of his head Time recognised from his own Zora armour. Wild panted desperately, eyes wide as he caught his breath. The feeling of breathlessness eased.

After another few moments, Twilight’s head popped up, wearing another Zora-made headpiece that covered his nose and mouth. He was staring into the water next to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“Wild? Twi?” Sky asked. “Where’s Legend?”

“Uh—” Wild joined Twilight in staring at the water, seeming distinctly lost. The blue-turquoise-orange-silver shape still sat close to the riverbed, unmoving beside the red one. Twilight said nothing, staring at the water expectantly.

Finally, the shapes shifted and another head poked up from the water’s surface, only peeking out enough for his eyes to be visible. This head had light blonde hair with a streak of pink. Clearly it was Legend, but…

Iridescent orange and green scales shimmered over his cheekbones. His purple irises were larger and his pupils were slit like a cat’s. His ears had been replaced by fins; tall and transparent, colour drifting between blue and turquoise.

“What the fuck,” Wind whispered. No one bothered reprimanding him.

Legend’s gaze landed on Time’s bow. His pupils narrowed, his brows pinched, and although his expression was half hidden beneath the water Time could make out his anxiety plain as day. He could feel it, too.

Time’s heart fell through his chest and settled somewhere at his boots.

Legend was afraid of him.

#MUAHAHAH THE ANGST GOBLIN IS LOOSE #linked universe fanfic #lu legend #lu time #fanfic angst #ao3 is registered users only #zelda fanfiction #fanfiction #my writing #dual post #oneshot

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heckinconfusedparade · 1 year ago

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Woe! Sonic character headcanons be upon Ye!

Sonic:

- Learned how to cook while raising Tails and got really good at it

- Hedgehog Gordon Ramsay

- Can’t bake for shit tho

- Made up a lullaby that he sings to Tails to help him sleep. It’s been effective since the kit was 4

- In the warmer months, Sonic scouts out nice places for his annual picnic with Amy. He loves hanging out with her and enjoying sweets!

- Has a memorial for Chip with his necklace somewhere hidden

- Ran before he could walk

- Bothers Knuckles on Angel Island at least twice a week

- He and Shadow spar every week

- Bro has a bunch of Knick knacks and trinkets from his adventures

- Has a lazy day every once in a whilel

- He does vocal warm ups every morning as part of his little routine, even if he doesn’t plan on singing that day. It’s good to warm up before doing a lot of speaking!

Tails:

- He’s so sweet but so sassy

- Will sass a grown man to death

- Hugs people he really loves with his tails included

- He has a blacksmith place somewhere

- Had to have an intervention for his mint addiction (unsuccessful)

- His love language is gift giving! His gifts are one of a kind

- He made Shadow a gun for Christmas. It has bullets that explode on impact. It’s a tiny rocket launcher

- Used a chaos emerald to give a box Chaos Control so he can warp stuff back to his workshop

- the box defies logic, and he can fit literally anything in it

Amy

- If anyone insults or puts down her besties it’s ON SIGHT! EVEN IF ITS THE BESTIE SAYIN IT ABOUT THEMSELF (looking at you, TAILS)

- Refuses to let anyone go hungry. Angel to anemic and diabetic community!

- Spars with Knuckles to practice her hand to hand combat

- Meets up with Sonic in the coldest part of winter so they can hibernate together

- Loves her picnic dates with Sonic!

- Got Vanilla to homeschool Tails so at least the kid can have credentials to go into higher education in the future if he wants

- Loves thrift shopping! One man’s trash is this gals treasure!

- Crystal girl

- Shares Taylor Swift album theories with Shadow. They both go crazy for it

- She took Cream, Rouge, Blaze, and Sticks on a road trip. It was the most chaotic thing to hit the roads that summer.

Knuckles:

- is the reason a mountain has a giant crack in it

- vibe checks buildings for faulty wiring with his electro signal echidna stuff

- Bro moves the soil around his island to promote healthier plant life

- Bro is the single teen dad of many many many Chao

- Tries to leave the island whenever he can. He has a map of places that Sonic marked because they made him think of him!

- Taught Tails how to throw one hell of a punch and how to use his namesakes in combat

- Secretly looks forward to Rouge’s visits because he finds the sparring fun

Shadow:

- His room is usually only illuminated by a lamp because the sun shines directly in his window, and the ceiling light is too bright

- the lightbulb in the lamp changes colours. Rouge calls it his Mood Lamp

- If Sonic doesn’t show up to their weekly sparring, he gets concerned and indirectly searches for the dude. He’d rather die than admit he’s concerned tho

- Taylor Swift karaoke night with Amy

- Plays Project SEKAI

- Has a garden full of beautiful flowers dedicated to Maria. Amy and Sonic helped find flowers and seeds, and Knux provided the soil. They didn’t ask to get involved, nor were they asked, they just found out from Rouge and decided to help Shadow out

- He cannot fucking cook

- He cannot fucking bake

- There’s very few things he can actually make BUT HES LEARNING

- Learning to enjoy life as it happens. He’s stopping to smell the roses and appreciate what he has right now, and tries not to lament about the past or future

Rouge:

- Sometimes visits Angel Island just to bother Knuckles

- She has a pair of boots that has spikes on the toes

- Taught Tails how to steal

- She’s Cream’s favourite guest to bring to a tea party because of all the drama she brings with her.

- Is the reason Tails is a gossip

- She played Thief Simulator and had the greatest time ever

- Watched analysis videos of people trying to solve heists she committed

- Pretended not to listen when Amy infodumped to her about crystal energy, but she actually finds it very interesting

Omega:

- Trusts Tails with his life

- Because he can’t fit through doors or knock without breaking them, he stands outside the window waiting for someone to notice him outside

-or he just breaks the door anyway because why not

- Loves fireworks, wants to fire them on his own

- Absorbs every insult he hears Sonic make, as well as searches up on the internet to add to his database just so he can insult Eggman in a way that matters.

#I’ll make more another time idk #could be an empty promise #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #tails the fox #knuckles the echidna #amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #sonic headcanons

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linkbetweenlinksau · 7 days ago

Note

I noticed the slight style change in Wars' scarf (from before you actually started LBL and then where we are currently) and so I was wondering.......

What was the og design for your Links? And then how did it change to how it is right now?

I thought that would be an interesting ask, so here you go!

I hope you ready for a big load of yapping Anon cuz I have many things to say about their older designs 🙏

So we’ll start with Sky!

Old design on the left and new design on the right. He had a cape LU style, baggier clothes, and had the loftwing feather attached to his earring. I have the skyloftians wear their loftwing’s feathers because it lets them feel closer to them when they’re separated from them on the surface! The thing about this design was that not only was it impractical, but it was also suuuuper annoying to draw and color. Idk if you read the old comic from before but that helped me know that his loftwing feather was driving me insane haha. The cape as well was super annoying and while baggy clothes fits Sky, it didn’t seem smart for him to have that. He was also 5’0” because I wanted him to be older than twi but shorter than him. When I redid Lbl I thought about what I hated about his design while drawing it and changed it around

I made him 5’5” so I wouldn’t have to make his Zelda super short (she’s 5’3”) and he’s definitely one of the “taller” Links. I put the sailcloth and loftwing feather at his belt so they were out of the way. I also gave him bracers that kept his baggier sleeves out of the way and yeah! Still not the most practical thing ever but this is fiction and idc 🙃I’m a little sad about the loftwing feather tho cuz I always wanted him to have a long feather on his earring since I first designed him but oh well. It’s for my own sanity haha. I still kept his more “comfier” clothes and his lightning scars hehe 😈 so yeah!

The rest of the ramblings are under here:

Minish also underwent a lot of changes:

Older design on the left and newer one on the right.

The old design not bad but it’s kinda plain to me. Being a blacksmith he has an apron and gloves, and I always imagines mc Link with curly hair. I do love his headband and I think it’s super neat, but that’s really it. It’s just plain and when he has no apron it’s even more plain. So I changed it to the newer one!

He still has curly hair and his headband but he has no more apron. His tunic is meant to resemble a Minish but I kept the golden outline for some pizzazz. I gave him back his blue eyes which are very integral to his sprite in mc imo and I changed his nose shape to match his grandpa’s and that’s probably my favorite change about him. I love his nose very much and it makes him look very unique. I kept his gloves but I also added some iron-toed boots just so metal doesn’t break his toes lol. And I always had the square belt buckle on him. It’s very fun exploring different ways to do that swirly belt buckle! I also made his tunic dark green so it’d look better. Overall I love his newer design!

Old on the left, new on the right. Time didn’t change too much but he did enough for me to talk about it! His shirt darkened to match his old tunic, gave him the gauntlets for something interesting to look at, changed his collar shape, and I changed his eye color! This actually happened after I made the newer drawing XD I changed his eye color to match Twi’s :) also I untucked his shirt. Idk why. I thought it’d look better so we’ll see lol.

Twi changed a LOT, and by a lot I mean his colors lol. I had a plan where he was going to be pale with dark brown hair to show that he isolated himself and stayed inside after tp, and lbl helped him heal and he was able to look like he went outside again. Buuuuut I changed it for my own sanity cuz that would’ve been so hard to do well lol. So the newer design has the colors he was going to get in the old lbl. Truthfully the old backstory doesn’t fit what I have in mind anymore anyways so it makes sense for him to be tan in the new one. I also added more battle stuff for him including bracers, that sleeve thing, and actual clothes that match ordon lol. I did keep the Ordona symbol tho cuz it’s cool. But yeah, other than that there wasn’t too much of a change in his actual clothes! I did give him dimples tho :> you just can’t see it

Four changed quiet a bit as well. As least when he’s merged. He used to have armor but I thought giving him a full thing of armor when he was only 14 was kind of odd so I instead took out most of the armor. I also made his colors more neutral cuz I loved the idea that Four’s colors were more white and brown to show the colors merging. But honestly i don’t like the look of it haha 😅 it makes more sense for all of the colors to be on Four anyways since it resembles the colors never fully merging so honestly I miiiight switch the colors… but anyways. I did keep the braid flower thing cuz many liked that as did I, and I changed his eye color to match the actual eye color of the colors. They will change depending on who’s in control! But yeah, change in colors 🙃 might change it again idk. I just don’t like the tan and brown haha.

I went through a whole thing with windy because he was originally gonna be 17 or 18. He was gonna be an adult. But I didn’t like that and changed him to being 14! The issue with that tho was that he looked too old in his old design. The blue lobster and coat that resembled Linebeck’s just didn’t fit him anymore so I decided to lean more into his green tunic and played with colors to get him his new design! Which I love a lot! It’s just a little more boyish with nice colors of sea foam green that I like, and it definitely fits his younger aura. That could easily have something to do with how I drew his face tho haha. The old design had the blue lobster cuz that’s what everyone else was doing and I thought the coat would be a cut homage to Linebeck. Including a gossip stone. Also no boots cuz idk, I like it. Makes it easier on me haha. And his scar is a little less healed in the new design than the old one :) it’s very clear that I decided to do what I wanted to do with his design instead of doing what I thought people wanted, and I love his newer design now. Should be easier to draw too!

Left drawing was the first design of Age, and there’s some things I do kinda like. For starters the cape is very neat and would definitely mark him as a champion, but that’s about all I like haha. His short hair is fine but it doesn’t make sense for him to cut it, the armored pieces are a pain to draw and the colors were hard to work with. So I got rid of the cape cuz I figured it’d be harder to draw and wasn’t super practical, changed the tunic color and his hair color to match canon, and gave him more simple bracers and boots. The thing about Age tho is that I don’t like his design. Same issue with Four honestly. It’s not satisfying and I wish I took the time to play with his design more instead of jumping in, so I might play with his design a bit more, might do something with the cape. But I did add Mipha’s scale to show that they’re a thing <3 and lastly he used to be 5’5” but I didn’t like that so I moved him down to 5’0”. He’s taller than Wild to show that the shrine of resurrection stunted Wild’s height (but honestly my Age did technically use the shrine of resurrection so) but he’s not absurdly taller than him haha. but yeah, i don’t like either of his designs 😔

Wild’s overall design didn’t change too much cuz I did like the champion’s tunic with the Hateno clothes on top of it, but something that I do wish I kept was that his hair can’t grow back on some parts of his head, leaving him bald. I might still keep it but it’ll be very well hidden under that mane of hair haha. I dropped the braid and let his hair flow beautifully in the wind, and smae with Age, changed the hair and tunic color! I wanted him and Age to both have the champion’s tunic so that they know that they’re technically the same :) luckily Wild has a lot of outfits so I can honestly play with the clothes whenever I want hehe.

And as you mentioned, Wars went through a lot of change too! Just like Wind I played with some ideas for him cuz I wasn’t vibing with his design. He and Sky are the only ones I had in the older lbl comic so I was able to know what I did and didn’t like about his design! I liked his tunic design for sure, and it’s still there, but the cape was kinda lame to me. It wasn’t fancy, had a bad color, and I hated the overall shape. He has his hat here but he was always going to lose it. So keeping everything else I decided to try to explore the scarf again and tried to find a style I liked. I didn’t want it to be like the game, and I wanted it to look unique to him, and eventually I settled on the big triangle shaped scarf! Makes him look more dynamic and I changed the colors so they’d look better, and I do really like his newer design! He didn’t go through much change, but it was enough to keep me satisfied! I do wish his Diamond clip was on his back like how it is in the game but oh well, I wanted it to look like some sort of Medal of Honor 🤷‍♀️ my beloved

And that’s about all the big changes! I didn’t include everyone cuz they either didn’t change much or they didn’t have old designs. Like Hyrule did change a bit with his design now having a turtleneck rather than a V-neck, but that’s about it. I don’t think Legend’s design changed at all (I love his design) and Totem and Rift weren’t in the older era of lbl :) I do need to draw refs for them tho augh. Spirit too didn’t change all that much and I don’t have room to include everyone haha. But yeah that’s what changed about them! I like the changes a lot (kind of) and I hope they won’t kill me when I draw the comic :’D I know wolf Link is giving me grief, mostly his colors.

But yeah, thank you for this ask! I love rambling about this stuff!! XD especially comparing old lbl to new lbl :)

#asks

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