#biiiiig angst

[nolassolace]

Newest fic for that last prompt for @nark-week

I went with memory 💕

[observeroflaplace]

D26 - Last

Two lalafell stood atop a once-mighty cliff face; one in pristine white and red robes despite the filth and muck of the elements, the other in deep black; her face all but hidden in the shadow of a wide-brimmed hat. The mountain range upon which they stood had long since been singed and carved asunder by the scars of battle, and was now battered by ceaseless rain. The pair stood, staring at distant waves which dwarfed even nearby peaks. Somewhere, malms away, tiny dots flocked towards a rickety ark, with no guarantee of survival. Closer, on the former battlefield, many tried to flee to higher ground; becoming quickly swallowed by the rising tides instead. Leaving no-one but the pair gazing on; the effective last ones standing in this war between nations whose sorcery had shaken the world.

The lalafell in black choked back sobbing, glancing to a broken staff in her left hand. She murmured between sobs, gazing upon the damage that a cause which she had once championed had done; not only to either side, but the world itself. As though to bargain, her mind raced for solutions; though nothing of such a scale came.

“But I- if we resonated our schools then- but what if the polarity of the flood could be- If I could just- If WE-“

The woman in white silently places a small hand on the diminutive shoulder of the other. She looks into her eyes, with a comforting expression of calm; though her veneer of stability was a show. An a facade for them both to shelter them from existential fear.

“Please don’t push yourself like this. This isn’t our burden to bear.”

The woman in black shakes her head.

“I know I didn’t start this cause, but I fought for it. If only I’d met you sooner. If only I’d listened-“

Her tears had stopped, even as her guilt weighed upon her like malms upon malms deep of water, stretching more than twice that across. Even as she clung to some vein hope and her voice rose to meet it, she stopped. It was the woman in white’s turn to cry.

Perhaps she had simply reached the limit of her seemingly boundless mental strength; or perhaps, in seeing her companion’s spirits rise, it gave her room to share her own vulnerability. To not simply support, but to be supported in kind.

The woman in black let her tattered old war staff clatter to the wet stones beneath her feet. Her eyes did not even fall to the discarded tool of war and death. They fell to the woman beside her.

She reached out with a gloved hand to wipe away the woman in white’s tears, and sheltered her head from the storm with the brim of her hat. She took one deep, and almost certainly final, breath, and spoke.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve brought a bigger hat.”

[not-poignant]

Daily excerpt from chapter 40 of A Stain that Won't Dissolve:

‘Hey,’ Sebastian said. ‘What’s up?’ ‘Yeah,’ Alex said, walking past him into the corridor. Sebastian stood up behind him, the chair creaking. ‘Hang on.’ ‘Can’t a guy just fucking clean?’ Alex snapped, turning around quickly, glaring, and Sebastian froze, staring at him with wide eyes. Alex stilled, he never talked to people like that. Okay, maybe when he was a teenager, and he wanted to make Sebastian hurt for all the shit he said, but not anymore. ‘Shit. Sorry.’ ‘You look terrible,’ Sebastian said. ‘Like you haven’t slept at all.’ ‘I have a headache,’ Alex said, rubbing at his forehead. ‘That’s all. I’ve had a headache since yesterday.’ ‘For like a whole day?’ Sebastian said. ‘Is that normal?’ ‘For me it is,’ Alex said, laughing. ‘It’s stupid. I tried to read some articles yesterday morning. It was dumb. I’m dumb.’ Sebastian came closer, and Alex’s shoulders hunched.

[horatiocomehome]

Now listen. Long before I even thought of starting ISAT, I saw in out of context posts on my dash, that loop and sif were somehow, kinda sorta maybe the same person. probably with a big asterisk. Now, I don’t know HOW, and I don’t know WHY—and I don’t want anyone to say how or why, or even HINT at it!

But there is ONE thing I have figured out for fucking CERTAIN. and that is that fucking GHOST. is fucking LOOP. AUGH

LOOP BUDDY DO YOU NEED A HUG DO YOU WANT ME TO SIT WITH YOU A WHILE DO YOU WANT TO SEE THE DRAWING OF THE PARTY AGAIN WAIT NO IS THAT RUBBING IT IN LOOP BUDDY I’M SO SORRY LOOOOP

[uriekukistan]

biiiiig thank you to @sunnyyflowerrs and @melloneah for beta reading this for me and reassuring me that this is not awful. i've been super excited about this fic and i've been working on this for a while (you may have seen me talking abt it before) sfhdjdg HAPPY HALLOWEEN :D

right where you left me (a corner i haunt) | Itafushi | M/M | Ghost/Ghost-Hunter AU | Angst & Bittersweet Ending | 1/1 | 21.7k words

Yuuji encounters a not-so-evil evil spirit on a ghost-hunting trip.

Since starting his ghost-hunting channel on YouTube, Yuuji had been to his fair share of haunted spots. Graveyards, churches, hospitals, prisons…but houses were always his favorite. Even if he never got any decent footage, they always felt so intensely personal, like a window into the past that he could reach through and touch the souls of the departed to comfort them. In Yuuji’s humble, inexperienced opinion, most spirits were just lonely, tied to the physical world by something that was missing in their past.

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

WIIIIIP

Hi, everyone! It's been a hot minute. Life has been lifeing a bit too much and now I'm in a very stressful period. My mental health is... not doing amazing, but the escapism urge is biiiiig so chapters might be updated soon for both WYGTYA and HOTHS! I have no idea how consistent I will be, as I fluctuate between emotionally charged inspiration boom and mental exhaustion. I *do* have stuff to share for this tag game, however, so have snippets:

~WYGTYA chapter 17 (do not be fooled by this, the chapter is a fucking angst-fest):

“You…” she breathes, “you’ve been spending too much time with us.”

“Maybe too little. I’m no prude, you know?”

“Sorry, you just seem the type to put your hand on your hips and say ‘Language!’ when people swear.”

“Gods, is that the impression I give?”

“Eh, you’re right. I don’t know you well enough to say. I’m sorry, I think it’s just ‘cause you’re a healer, you know?” 

“Hopefully we’ll have enough time to fix my tarnished reputation, hm?”

“Hopefully.”

“We were talking about feelings.”

“You were.”

~HOTHS chapter 4:

“Still alive, and look! I found us a bartender.” Rhaim says, yanking a warhammer from a dead Thalmor and swinging it, hitting three in the process. He nods towards a Nord not too far away, kicking his way through the mass of Thalmor and throwing every sharp object he gets at them.

“I’m not a fucking bartender, you fucker!” He shouts, and Signe couldn’t be more elated. He looks feral, blood staining his rags and his blond hair. He fights with a rage that she can feel radiating, even from where she’s fighting.

He stabs a Thalmor right through the heart with a dagger. Signe realizes that she let herself get distracted by the possible new addition to the crew when she feels a sharp pain in her upper arm and sees that she’s been slashed by the very Thalmor who let them enter this place. But just as she was readying herself for a fight, a flying dagger pierces through her skull, right in the middle of her forehead, eyes rolling in the back of her head and dropping dead within seconds. She can hear a distant “Told you I have exceptional aim!”. Signe jerks her head back to the Nord, who’s approaching the body to retrieve the knife.

“The one-eyed woman! You’re kind of a celebrity around here.” He grins, kicking another Thalmor who approached Signe behind her back. “Nice to finally meet you, fellow Nord. I’m Edward. If you need a cook in your crew, I’m your man.”

🥰🥰EDWARD MY MOST BELOVED BOY 🥰🥰

I'm tagging @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @hircines-hunter @dirty-bosmer @bostoniangirl21 @illumiera if you haven't done this already and want to do it 💖💖

[necromycologist]

#prev the narrator tries to quit????? #that's incredible do you have any other details??

@certified-bone-owner haha ofc! i think most of my old planning documents got deleted but i'll try and put down what i can remember

iit got written while i was biiiiig into the invisible library series and also making my way through peritale so if you have any idea what those are theyre a pretty good guide to the conceit and general vibes of the setting. also looking again i think there's definitely a bit of kate milfords work/specifically trigimene foulk in his dna so. take from that what u will

the main character was this extradimensional narrator (rather obviously ig), and part of a whole guild of similar beings who were somehow recruited to guide and tell stories. i can't actually remember his name, but he was a pretty typical cynical wisecracking type. ...he also happened to be a grey jay, for some obscure 13-year-old's reasoning that i can no longer remember.

now that i think about it, he might've been a grey jay/whiskey jack because he was called jack (as in, the generic fairytale protagonist jack) but i don't really know for sure. ill call him jack for now

he was.. relatively new to the whole narration thing, i think?

stories got assigned based on difficulty level, which in practice meant how hard it was to wrangle characters into obeying the plot.

(the narrators DID tell the story, obviously, but they also spent time planting plans, drumming up resentment, etc so that characters would act as needed. by design this was limited tho as the narrators aren't really People, just conciousnesses. they tended to just get smoothed out of characters' brains once everything was done which i think was an angst thing 2..)

he got assigned a case above his paygrade, so to speak, when a prominent narrator that was meant to tell it disappeared along with their last story.

hes very determined not to screw this up. he is a Good Boy and is doing Lots of Planning and Scheming to get this to go right

unforch it turns out that at the beginning of this story not only is the villain pretty nice and actually makes friends w jack despite his supposed unmemorability, she's also very much in yuri with the hero.

like fully they lived together in a little cottagecore wizard tower i think. they are Going, eventually, to break up and become bitter and jaded towards each other. this seems very far off and remote.

he feels kinda bad for his earlier scheming now.

this is really screwin with his plans in a multitude of ways. on one hand he wants to get this job done but on the other hand these are, yknow, the only people that have ever seen him as a person in his entire sad gothboy narrator existence and he REALLY doesn't want to kill both of them.

oh yeah, did i forget to mention? they're both supposed to die at the end by the other's hand.

he's screwed himself over now!! he's quite literally cooked!! he's set the dominoes up and by golly the rube goldberg machine will run!! his friends and their happy life and town are arthur dents house and you can fuckin call jack a bulldozer driver!!

he's stuck, frantically, speeding forward and back through the story like he's in some pathetic self-inflicted timeloop, trying to find a loophole for them or a way out of telling the story to it's conclusion for him.

there's no loophole. or way out.

i never got NEARLY far enough in writing this to actually get to this part (i wrote like. two pages of actual prose and a 5 page planning doc i believe) but i think the end was either, depending on my mood, his final selfish escape out the side of the story to avoid witnessing the tragedy of it all (at which point the remainder of the book would simply be blank) or his grudging resignation to telling the story, with the hopeful implication that despite its course being set, the story could be replayed.

anyway yea that was the general plot! i kinda want to revive these guys now tbh... they were pretty cool

[kat-writes-things]

Thought I should maybe make an intro/navi post so when I eventually have more things written we can all get around easy peasy :)

Hey, I'm Kat! Welcome to whatever this is! I'm a Scottish writer! I've just started writing seriously and will be posting on here as and when I can. I'm currently working on one biiiiig project but I will be posting the odd thing here and there that has no relevance to it whatsoever. I'm not currently writing for any fandoms but I probably will at some point!

Requests are open! I will write for any gender in moooost scenarios, so if you have something specific in mind, send it in!

I will write fluff, smut, and angst.

When sending in a request, be clear on what you want. At least a little detail will give me a good jumping off point.

Please don't spam my inbox with the same requests/asks.

Please be aware that I work full time and won't always be able to answer immediately.

I will attempt to write as many requests as possible but please bear in mind that if I am uncomfortable with a topic or I'm unsure of a character I won't write the request. I will let you know if that's the case.

This is an inclusive space so please be respectful of that when interacting.

Ageless and blank blogs will be blocked.

[brandycranby]

brandy!!!!! I stumbled across this video today and just had to send it to you 🥹

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C1fOqVjBoHC/?igsh=MWhvbHV1cXl6Z3VlNw==

hope you’re well! I‘m studying for my exams rn (= losing all will to live) 🥲 I‘ll be in touch again soon, have been thinking abt raccoon readers presents! 👀 steve would for sure get her some kind of code puzzle or a riddle of some sort *gestures hand vaguely at stark tech* 🤓 was first thinking gardening tools, but she has hands, sooooo 😂 bet she loves digging into the soil with bare hands to make maximum mess 😝 or maybe he gets her some of the presents she gave away for herself (he saw her eying that blanket haha) 😌 bonus: ransom gets his raccoon reader a nice wool sweater (I’ve been thinking abt them a lot!!!! the angst!!! the yearning!!! them = a bunch of unrelated thoughts) ☺️

heheee some forehead kissies for you and a biiiiig virtual hug 😙💋🥰

-🦝

my darling!!! my darling, you live 😭😭 when are your exams? i know you're studying your very very hardest and doing your best!!!

hehe that is steve bringing raccoon reader into the avengers living area for the first time

i got a wooden puzzle for my friend this year and i think raccoon reader would like that. anything from the barnes & noble puzzles and toys section would be a great present for her 😌 she didn't have to eye the blanket bc steve already got her a new one.. or two hehe raccoon reader exists in maximum comfort 🫶🏻💕💕 tools and aprons are useless to her, she just goes at the garden like a feral groundhog (except raccoons >>> groundhogs, ok? 🤨)

!!!!!! tell me all your ransom x raccoon hybrid reader thoughts!!! i must know everything 🥺💕💕💕

sending u a big big hug, some chocolates, a lot of cozy snuggly blankets and the will to live 😭💕💕

[luvly-writer]

“But oh…cara mía”

Dick Grayson x Latina! Reader preview

________________________________

Author’s note: SO SO SO SO I FINISHED BIIIIIG PART OF THE SKETCH FOR THIS NEW FANFIC AND I JUST HAD TO WRITE A FEW SNIPPETS TO GIVE YOU SOME SORT OF TRAILER FOR WHATS TO COME! OMG I AM HELLA EXCITED. I literally stayed up last night cause sketching the storyline and already have ideas for the songs. This one will be more fanfic that SMAU cause like I said, I am truly motivated to write more but it will still have a few elements of social media au to balance the heavy angst and drama with light hearted fun and fluff! Enjoy!

Taglist: If you also want to stay for the Dick Grayson x Latina! Reader fanfic, there you are most welcomed to! If you don’t, feel free to tell me and I’ll maintain your name for all the Jason Todd x reader related things.

@lorosette @nanas-teatime @izukuisbaby @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @unofficial-jaytodd-wife @graywrites5567 @addictedtothefictionalworld @halleest @randobeetlehouse @prettyacademia00

___________________________________

“Kid, I’ve dealt with all the robins and batgirls, Batman in all his stages and more, trust me ya can’t scare me away easily”

——————————————————————————-

“What would you truly know of being a fighter, Grayson!?!?! You haven’t died, you weren’t trained from birth, you aren’t a meta, or a prodigy, WHY SHOULD I LISTEN TO YOU?!?!” said Damian harshly, it had been a rough week for all of them, and Damian, oh Damian was being careless with his words because of his anger. Dick got tense and everyone in the cave swore it got colder.

“ I may have not been born a fighter, Damian, but I was crafted by the burn of my survival. A good part of my skill comes from practice. The rest? From the attempts of destruction to my soul” Dick seethed in between teeth.

Damian tensed up at the harsh tone Dick had. Jason’s eyes widened, he hadn’t heard Dick be so cold in years. It reminded him of the fights between Bruce and Dick when he first got here. Tim’s back straightened, knowing that side of Dick very well because of his arrival after Jason’s death, he knew Dick had a darkness within him that only one person was able to soothe. Bruce felt his heart stop. “He hasn’t been like that in a long time…” he said stiff as a board. Alfred placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “she is here, master Bruce….”

——————————————————————————

“I should go apologize to Grays-“

“No..I’ll go” said YN softly

Damian looked at his father, who nodded that her going would be for the best.

——————————————————————————

“It is said that when you dance the waltz with the perfect partner, a candle can be held by the two, and the dance will be so smooth that the flame will never blow out.”

——————————————————————————

“We have all been through things, YN, you can’t make excuses for him”

“And you can’t use your trauma as an excuse to treat each other like shit!” said the girl sternly, making the other six give her their whole attention, “ I have had it! We ALL have trauma, it’s not fair we make it even worst for each other….”

——————————————————————————

“HE WAS MY BROTHER BRUCE! HE KILLED MY BABY BROTHER”

“AND HE WAS MY SON!”

—————————————————————————-

Grayyyyyysoooooon, it’s time to plaaaay, come on no-

Dick woke up with a jump, hyperventilating, sweating, the shadows danced around him and he felt a pair of eyes on him. He panicked even more, feeling as if Slade had come back and his breathes started getting shorter,

“Hey hey hey, sh sh sh sh Dick it’s alright, you’re home, you’re safe, I’m right here” YN said reassuringly

“I keep seeing him in the shadows, he is still there, he is coming back”

“Dick look at me” she says grabbing his face in her hands “he will not harm you, for as long as there is breathe in my lungs okay?” She reassured him and he nods softly, her presence always calming him

——————————————————————————-

“YN and I don’t have anything between us, we aren’t even friends, just coworkers who happen to have an understanding”

“That sounds like friends with benefits, Dick” said Steph muffling her laughter

“WE ARENT! I can assure you there is nothing romantic OR SEXUAL -STOP LOOKING AT ME THAT WAY- between us!” He finished giving a pointed look at Steph and Jason, who were holding back their laughter with a smug grin

“Never?”

“Never.”

——————————————————————————

“UGHHHH BARBARA LO ODIO LO ODIO LO ODIO!!!” said the young girl sobbing in her friends arms, “I HATE HIM! I HATE HIM!!!” she wailed and little by little her sobs started to subdue, “oh…querida mía..how I love him” she said softly. Barbara could only look at her with sympathy and stroke her hair as her friend calmed down from her cries, “I know sweetie, I know”

——————————————————————————-

“You know, I wanted to hate you, resent you for being so perfect, almost like heaven sent you from above for him, but I couldn’t….not when you always were so you…so sweet and kind with me and everyone, I couldn’t”

——————————————————————————

Hope you guys are as excited as I am!

I had to scratch the itch of simply writing something out and showing you guys before I finished “you are my sunshine” (which writing the part has been so difficult since I got so excited for this one and just needed to write something out to get you just as excited as I am AND because I don’t want to say good bye to the story since I love it so much but at las, little by little it has to end ;-;)

[it doesn’t have tags yet because it’s only a preview, once i start the story as a whole, the tags will begin ]

ALL MY LOVE

-you lovely writer

<3

[starrybouquet]

maverick, iceman, ethan, and ilsa 🥰🥰🥰

Mav - he's my pocket sized fighter pilot who loves fiercely despite being terrified and traumatized. He's competent and brilliant and cocky but justifiably so. He's also exactly my type (romantically but more importantly fave character wise). Also, he's absolutely INSANE. LITERALLY WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS MAV

Ice - for someone who gets so little character development in canon he sure casts a biiiiig shadow. He made me (and Tom Cruise and Val Kilmer) cry in TG:M. I liked him before but fandom has made me loooove him.

Ethan - oh where do I start. He's completely insane and underratedly hilarious. He's crazy competent and also plain crazy. I watched Mission Impossible with no expectation of becoming attached to the characters and yet here we are. I would die for him, I love him, also he has SO MUCH ANGST. Someone get this man some happiness pls. Thank God he has friends now.

Ilsa - badass lady of my Mission Impossible heart! She's amazing and I love her and she deserves EVERYTHING, also Lane needs to fucking leave her alone, istg. Also I love that she goes toe to toe with Ethan in everything. He needs that.

send me characters here!

[hoodie-prince-kid]

When the loop is broken will pink and green remember all the loops, just the final loop, or none at all leaving Orange back alone in their knowledge of what happened unless they decide to share the story with the other two? Questioning you just as much as me I have no clue.

remembering all of them could cause a biiiiig angst hurt/comfort scene, but having to bear it alone could be pure angst. depends on kind of story you want to tell!

[ghostlycoze]

Well THIS made my terrible chronic-pain day significantly less terrible! What a pleasant surprise!! :D This absolutely made my day to get to see, I’m so honoured to see you draw my silly little headcanons and to hear you were inspired by them!

I’ve been offline for a while but itching to share some of my ideas, so this is the perfect opportunity–thank you for the invitation! (Oh, and I’m totally taking your Lilypad Essay post as an excuse to ramble about an au i've been working on called the Iterator Revolution—a lilypad-centred eventual-off-the-string AU! Buuuut I got to this one faster >:P)

Now to see if I can organise my mess of thoughts about these silly little robots…

I’m busting out the cozy tea for this one lads. [cracks knuckles]

This is almost exactly how I imagine them, although with a couple little additions that make mine just a liiiiiittle more organic (though I ADORE exploring the more mechanical parts of these guys too!!). Mainly things like innate behaviours they have that are utterly pointless aside from purely communication-based purposes; things that come instinctually to them as a result of deep rooted genetics that don’t really apply to what they are as a whole. For example, yawning! I’ve given my iterators a cute equivalent of “yawning”, which is a combination of cute antennae flutters (like when a cat stretches real hard), scrunching their faces up, usually stretching at the same time, and a deep exhale through their vents. It’s not exactly a yawn, but it's their way of being reminded of their own energy (and it's just cute~)

I feel the urge to go “Biiiiig stretch…” Whenever I imagine these little guys stretching, like you'd do with cats. Cuties, the lot of ‘em.

I imagine in my HCs that they could dream as well; as I tend to imagine their puppets hold a fair bit of the bio in their biomechanical forms, I imagine a lot of their more organic needs would shine through especially once off the string—and given the way they could run countless parallel mental processes at once, I feel like dreaming isn’t too far fetched. Just like how our brains use sleep-time to process information, maybe they only start dreaming once they’re off the string, because to process all that background information while processing active happening things at the same time could be too much now that they've been reduced to their puppets–so that's instead been moved to be a sleep-process.

And for a side dish of angst: Moon and Pebbles would probably be the most prone to nightmares. Moon with collapsing and drowning, and Pebbles with the Rot... Ouch.

Somewhat-related to their sleep (moreso cuddling), I imagine once they're off-the-string, they'd come to realise a new need of theirs is the need for touch. Almost all creatures have it, and while they’d have never known until coming off the string, they too desire it.

Maybe I’m just a sucker for comfort-fluff, but I feel like the first time any of them get to just hold each other, they’d be likely to just cry. Between having never really experienced physical touch before (I imagine maintenance from the Ancients hardly counted, they were likely “switched off” for such things anyways), being almost overwhelmed by it given their deprivation, realising how much they’ve wanted it, and realising how cruel it is that this is something they desire given they’d been caged and separated from each other… Yeah, that’s a lot of emotions for one being to have. It’s relief of what they have, and it's grief of what they should’ve had sooner.

Extending off that, another HC I vaguely remember picking up from another artist’s ideas (I’ve absolutely forgotten who, but I’ll credit when I remember!), is that they all have a sort of electromagnetic field (?), a sort of faint vibration of energy that they can feel from each other like a comforting aura of the other’s presence. Other organic creatures can’t feel it, and before they could touch in person they weren’t aware of it, and yet it’s something that becomes a big source of soothing and a hint of intimacy when iterators cuddle. Those energies almost sort of combine, like the idea of your heartbeat or breathing syncing with a loved one when holding them—and it brings a sense of familiarity, like being back in their cans when they felt the room thrum and hum with their own life force; a sense of home, found in one another. I also imagine newer gens have a stronger electromagnetic field, so it’s more noticeable and special for Moon than it is for Sig when they’re together!

Aaaand slightly less related but still wanted to mention, is iterator stimming!! Maybe it's a bit of projection, but I totally imagine these little guys need to stim, ESPECIALLY when off-the-string. Going from your loud can with 40 different processes going through your head at once, messages coming in from all over your city, an endlessly racing mind designed purely to iterate, to think. And then take all of that away. Leave nothing but a little guy who can only have the amount of mental processes you and I have (albeit likely VERY intelligent processes, but still.) Yeah, the understimulation would be hard to deal with! Everything is too quiet, they need to do something, they were never not doing something so to not constantly be busy would be difficult to adjust to! And so, they’d start stimming. Something to stimulate them, to get all of that energy out, to focus their mind on.

I feel like Sig in particular stimmed before coming off-the-string too—spun around on his rig and did little flips and swoops in the antigravity—though the others may have too. Moon, while she’d never admit it, totally loved hanging upside down now and then. She even does it in-game! Pebbles spun his pearls around, and Suns probably had their own form too, maybe even painting the wall of their chamber? (could explain where Spearmaster got their artistic flair from!)

But after getting off the string, they’d have to find new ways to stim.

Sig definitely does the handflaps, kicks his legs, will just stand and spin around if she’s particularly energetic—the more “big” stims, very obvious. (Little note: I tend to bounce between he/she pronouns for Sig, another little fun HC I picked up from a friend!)

Moon flutters her antennae a fair bit (as does Suns, though theirs can move outwards while Moon’s can only move up and down), wiggles around and bounces on her feet—cute full-body stims that aren’t super intense, but still quite obvious.

Suns moreso rotates their antennae around, but has much slower and the most subtle stims. Gently rubs their hands together and such. I honestly don't have as many ideas for them, but hopefully I'll come up with some more soon enough!

Pebbles taps his fingers on things, bounces his leg—fast yet small stims, usually that he tries to play off and hide. I wouldn’t be surprised to catch him spinning a spear around just to busy his hands. Oh, and he moves his antennae a lot—twitches his antennae wildly at pretty much any and every sound or even thought he has.

This idea is mostly because my design for him has extremely long, flexible antennae, but I like to think newer gens are very expressive with their antennae in general (when they have them… sorry Sig), since they’re far more emotionally in tune with themselves than their older counterparts. Moon and Suns struggle to understand their needs and emotions because they were seen as far more “robot” than individuals at their time of creation, plus any need would be immediately attended to by maintenance workers. For newer generations, they develop their personalities and recognise their emotions a lot faster, as a result of being allowed to be far more individual and “alive”, and also a purposeful measure so they can take care of themselves; less work for those lazy ancients! E.g. While Moon and Pebbles both overwork themselves (runs in the family, eh?), Moon is usually a result of not realising how tired she is, while Pebbles is aware but ignores it.

There’s so many ideas I have for this concept, but some main ones are:

Sig and Pebbles helping Moon and Suns unpack their feelings because it comes a lot less naturally to the two

Moon and Suns making an active effort to better learn how to express their feelings (especially romantic) to better emotionally connect with the recipients (Sig and Pebbles)

The conflict potential (that already somewhat shows in canon) of such a difference. E.g. Suns failed to properly communicate on an emotional level resulting in only furthering Pebbles’ anger in the Spearmaster campaign.

But anyways, back to their sleep habits!

The slurred speech, the devolving into basic beeps for communication, saying silly sleepy-nonsense, that’s all totally how I imagine it!

In fact I have a whole scene idea of Sig and Pebbles bonding when Pebbles is very sleepy, and it’s actually the basis of my “Pebbles is a noodlefly” joke. While I’ve yet to draw it, the basis is:

NSH: You know, you remind me a lot of noodleflies. Pink, long face…

FP: Mmm… Rude…

NSH: Oh, quit being so moody. You’re a grouch even when you’re exhausted.

FP: … [Sleepily honks like a noodlefly, in an attempt to prove he can play along with jokes]

NSH: Ha – HA! No way, did you just honk!?

FP: Shhhut up… Too loud…

NSH: Pfft— Sorry, sorry… Get some rest, ya’ noot.

It becomes a big inside joke for the two. On the occasion Sig’s in need of some cheering up, Pebbles will cast aside his pride and honk to make him laugh.

Anyways, back to sleepy-HCs. I imagine iterators needed sleep when attached to their cans, though significantly less. Like any computer, if you leave it running forever, it’ll eventually overheat or begin to wear down–so some down-time is needed! Though that need for rest is significantly more important considering the amount of exertion being used by their puppets. While I headcanon the iterators are remarkably strong given their metal bodies, they’re probably not the most fit given they’ve never gone for a walk in their lives! Until their muscles (whether those be organic, mechanical, or some kind of metal-meat mushy mix!) get used to it, they’re gonna be sore and tired after their first cycles of off-the-string life.

I adore the way you incorporated their models into these headcanons too, I definitely imagine Moon is one of the sleepiest given her older design. And she DEFINITELY holds some guilt there as a result—frankly, my hc-moon tends to struggle with a fair bit of guilt after suddenly becoming what she feels like is a “burden” after so long of being the strongest senior that everyone could lean on. Between her ailments as a result of her collapse (chronic fatigue, sensitivity to stimuli, a vocal glitch, etc.), her general inefficiencies due to being an older design, and her phobias she’s developed after all she's been through (mainly of water and heights), she does need a lot of help. (I might make a little post on my HCs for her post-collapse side effects later! Though I did ramble about her sensory issues a little here if you'd like to see!)

I think generally that’s something they all struggle with. Needs. While thankfully they don't need to worry about needs of food and such, sleep would generally be their most vulnerable state and need (minus emotional needs). Moon needs the most help with sleep (just like your ideas!), and usually goes to Sig for comfort and cuddles, though I like to think she’s quite affectionate with everyone.

Suns and Moon have the most vague relationship in my eyes, so a while back I made it my mission to explore that. Running off of Sig’s dialogue in-game of all the iterators having a rough-stage at the start (that Pebbles supposedly plateaued at), I imagine Suns is just a bit younger than Moon. Moon had had her rough patch (and boy did she have a rough patch… Maybe I’ll explore my emo-phase iterator HCS eventually!), and once Suns came around, she helped them out of theirs. I’ve got a big ol' chunk of HC-lore for Suns’ rough-patch, which in summary: Suns was treated as a gifted kid, had their head filled with “The new and improved! The best of the best!” mindset, and it inflated their ego a lot. They were kind of a prick, over-ambitious, and then they met their ego-death when they tried to lead a large-scale ascension. And failed. It led to many being echoed, and… Yeah. No wonder Suns is such an emotional wreck (lovingly) in the Spearmaster campaign, and relies so heavily on Sig for support and emotional regulation. They thought they had another chance, to help someone they cared so dearly for, and they failed again. That’s also why I imagine Suns tried so hard to try to mentor Pebbles and help him out of his egotistical rough-patch—Suns of all people knows what it’s like to be in that mindset, and wants to save him.

But back to Suns and Moon, it was Moon who helped them pick themself up after all of that. While I don’t ship the two, I feel like they’re good close friends, so she’d give them a little cuddle too! Though usually it's Sig or, when his ego allows it, Pebbles.

I tend to mess around with their dynamics a lot, especially since I’ve been introduced to the idea of a polycule-ship! Combine Trafficlight, Lilypad, Sunstone, and Ragequit, and what do you get? Cute, cuddly chaos! They all have adorable potential, I couldn’t resist sinking into the world of bashing these silly little guys’ faces together like they’re barbie dolls and going “Now kiss!”

Moon I imagine is the comfiest to cuddle; soft, squishy material along her plating makes her perfect teddy-bear material. While she tends to take a more holder role when cuddling her brother Pebbles or good friend Suns, she alternates the most with Sig. Sometimes they both just need to be held, so taking turns works best! The way I’ve designed the two (I really need to draw them properly soon) is that Moon’s more middle-bottom heavy, while Sig’s got a smaller torso, but big clunky hands and feet for some fun stylisation—but it also means those two slot into one another like two perfect little puzzle pieces!

While Moon is the softest, Sig personality-wise is actually the cuddliest. Once he discovers the wonders of physical affection, he’s always holding one of their hands or leaning on them or doing something just to have some contact. He’s got cycles to make up for, after all! Sig completely sinks into Suns’ lap, and (albeit with some wrangling), usually manages to get Pebbles curled up in hers. Another cute thought for Sig is that I imagine he is very interested in bioengineering (I mean, he created the first genetically modified slugcat messenger, it’s quite fitting!), and takes particular interest in observing the other three’s puppets. Take it platonic or romantic, I can see him just tracing the seams of whoever he’s cuddling’s plating and analysing their designs and mechanics and organic aspects before falling asleep.

Suns is, in my mind, the biggest. In my design (I really need to finish their design), they’re sort of an opposite to Moon—far more top-heavy, and also somewhat inspired by lizards! (Ft. fun little back spines that spike up and rattle when Suns is angry or scared) As a result, they’re probably more of a side sleeper, or sometimes on their back so the other can lay on their chest. With Pebbles and Sig, they’ll just hold one of the two in their lap and accidentally fall asleep like that—and it absolutely becomes a “well, you’re trapped now” situation.

Finally, Pebbles. Oh, Pebbles. While he’d never dare admit it, he almost always curls into a little ball like a slugcat, and is perfect to spoon. In my design he’s quite a spindly little guy as a result of being a newer generation, and also the most “animalistic” in design (much to his dismay. Digitigrade legs, a longer snoot-like face. The lot!), so he’s perfect to scoop up in your arms. If he had a mouth though, he would bite you for it. Though slowly, as he lets himself bring down his walls around the others, he definitely starts to welcome being held. Little did he know that’s what he needed all along.

WHEW! Okay I wrote a lot. Clearly I’ve been rotating these characters in my mind like a microwave for far too long, but that's a lil collection of my ideas!

Eventually I want to get around to rambling about my ideas of slugcat culture and how the iterators face that as well (a BIG theme in my TBTBU au~), but for now this seemed like a big collection of my ideas relevant to the sleepy-ators! (with a couple extras in there, because who can resist stimmy-ators?)

I can’t wait to hear more of your ideas and see more of your art, this was such a joy to ramble about and I hope some of them you can enjoy!

RW Headcanon: Goodnight, Moon

AHHH YESSSS, now that that Lilypad essay is done I can FINALLY share these—!

Hey, @ghostlycoze! So you remember a few months ago how I made that drawing acting on the Moon beepsnort headcanon, and how in my last reblog I eluded to the possibility of drawing out some of your headcanons again? Well, it looks like that time has come, and this time I've got not just drawings, but lots of additions to another headcanon of yours!

This time, it's from your tags in these three posts, which I also saw a while ago! Yet for some reason I began thinking about it again recently, and as is my nature with ideas I like, I decided to develop it further, and even draw it this time!

Also, just to preface, you'll see I did a bunch of notes beside the actual drawings as well. I'll share the picture and roughly type out the notes (in case my handwriting is a bit hard to read) as well as whatever info I couldn't fit on the page. Some of the text also just says "robots" rather than "iterators" because some of these ideas are stuff I actually imagine applying to robot characters in general! Maybe I'll make a post on that someday...

With all that out of the way though, the actual headcanon is under the cut! Hope you like it!

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What are iterators like when they’re sleepy? Do they even get “sleepy” the way we humans do? This headcanon answers that question with a focus on the iterators’ puppets. Much of this info is also framed in the context of a hypothetical “worm-off-the-string” scenario, since I believe that’s the main situation where sleep and getting tired would actually matter to the iterators.

Firstly, when iterator puppets are low on power, until they find a place to recharge they usually enter a power-saving state where, to conserve what’s left of it, their energy is temporarily redirected away from some of their less-important processes. The side-effect of this, however, is that iterator puppets show symptoms of drowsiness kinda like humans! Whereas humans may yawn, stretch, or rub their eyes when sleepy, iterators will often make sloppier/less precise movements, close their lenses a little, and may even have a harder time thinking, since they sometimes shut off some processors and other cognitive functions until they can recharge. The most common symptom, however, is slurred speech, coming from less power given to their speech-forming software.

Another very-common sign of iterator sleepiness is frequent beeping, often in place of words. This is because, like slurred speech, beeps take much less energy and processing to make than analyzing data, formulating a complex response, then vocalizing it clearly. Beeps are thus far more efficient for conveying simple emotions and reactions than words. Looks to the Moon in particular gets super beepy when she’s tired because she and other early models relied more on beeps for communication — they were made back when things like vivid emotion weren’t as taboo in Ancient society, and iterators were meant to be more friendly and openly interactive with their citizens — so she’s more used to beeping to easily express her emotions. 

As a side-note and mini-headcanon (wow, real headcanon-layering action here), while even the newest iterator puppets can beep, the older iterator models, as a result of this design influence, also have a much greater “beep-vocabulary” with a wider range of sounds that shrunk with the generations. Their beeps are thus a lot more expressive as well, with some sounds even being similar in nature to animal noises or regular speech! I imagine the entire range of their beeps would closely resemble shorter versions of the “droidspeak” sounds of the astromechs in Star Wars.

But, back to sleepy iterators. 

When it’s hibernation time, iterators enter a “sleep-mode”, where almost all of their systems are shut down and recharging becomes the primary objective. However, compared to how I imagine other robots, iterator puppets have a unique way of recharging. Rather than shutting off completely and absorbing power from an external source, iterator puppets have a few key systems within them that remain on even during sleep-mode. These systems, just like those in their superstructures, are capable of converting nutrients into power directly. They emit a soft, rather comforting whirr while the puppets sleep — the only sound iterators make while sleeping, and comparable in nature to stomach sounds during digestion. Otherwise, though, the only other systems remaining on during sleep-mode are a few basic senses, and a program that decides when to “wake up”. The presence of this program also means, uniquely to iterators again, they can wake up on their own, rather than having to be powered back on by someone else like other robots. Overall, these systems are yet another aspect of iterator designs that make them far more biological than many iterators (*cough* *cough* Pebbles *cough*) would like to admit.  And in my imaginings of a “worm-off-the-string” AU, systems like these are one of the main sources of both physical and internal conflict for these characters.

Also, since most of their systems are off during sleep mode, iterators sleep, both figuratively and literally, like statues. Whatever position they fall asleep in is the position they remain in the entire time unless a.) someone moves them or b.) they wake up and move on their own. This also means (unfortunately, if you thought these ideas would be cute) that iterators do not snore, shift around, sleepwalk, sleep-talk, or dream while in sleep mode.

That’s about it for this headcanon as it applies to iterator puppets overall. Now, I’m gonna get into how I imagine Looks to the Moon specifically likes to sleep.

In addition to getting very beepy, Moon also gets very cuddly when sleepy, though some of this comes from her affectionate personality. However, it's also due to a lasting trauma from her collapse. Of course she's learned to tolerate the rain over time, yet after spending so many cycles being rapidly drowned over and over in her can — with endless disorientation and senses so out-of-control from being disconnected from most of her superstructure, no one around to comfort her save for the occasional wandering creature, and the knowledge that her own beloved brother was responsible for this — it’s still left a fair amount of bad memories with her, especially from those cycles most recently after her collapse/revival, and this general unease often resurfaces with the sound of the rain. Therefore, whenever the rain comes, this trauma serves as another, more internal reason Looks to the Moon always wants to fall asleep holding onto/being held by someone, or at the very least while sharing the shelter with someone she loves. 

On a more positive note, since I’m now officially a Lilypad shipper, I imagine that No Significant Harassment is Moon’s default choice of cuddling partner! It can be a little hard to get in position — I imagine Moon always likes to be the little spoon despite her being slightly taller than him — but they manage! Moon pretty much always falls asleep first, because, as the oldest model of the group, and having sustained the most damage post-collapse on top of that, she simply doesn’t use power as efficiently as the others do and therefore gets tired much more easily. In some ways, the poor thing even feels a little guilty about it; she’s supposed to be the leader of this group, and yet here she is, tiring out after less travel and growing drowsy before the rain even starts! Luckily, Sig makes an effort to ensure her she’s more-than worth keeping around, because after every awful thing the world has thrown at her kindness, the least she deserves is some quality guilt-free nap time! And sometimes, if they want a little alone-time (or if Pebbles gets too fed-up with their lovey-dovey gestures), it’ll be just the two of them, and perhaps their slugcats, cuddling together in the shelter. 

And speaking of slugcats, Moon’s second choice of cuddles is Rivulet! Being very soft, warm, and equally cuddly, she makes another good source of cuddles for Moon. And sometimes, if Hunter’s also around and willing, the two join forces with Sig and Hunter for a big, soft, cuddle-filled slumber party!

Still, though, Sig is definitely no. 1 provider of snuggles for Moon. But he loves her dearly, so for the most part he doesn’t mind! Since she falls asleep first, some of his favorite moments each cycle are from just watching her and holding her close as the rainfall echoes from outside; she always looks so beautiful when she’s relaxed, and having her in his arms makes him feel like he can protect her no matter what. So he never really minds when Moon, slurring her words, tiredly asks for him to hold her while she enters sleep mode. 

That is, except when this happens and he’s stuck in that spot for the next several hours…

A few more ideas to this headcanon:

Moon’s third choice of cuddles is Five Pebbles. It’s a bit interesting, because in basically all other scenarios Pebbles insists on sleeping alone in a separate shelter, even though he’s actually rather touch-starved (though it'll be a while before he admits it). Moon is one of the only people he’s actually willing to sleep with, besides occasionally Artificer (in which the feeling is mutual and no one else must be in the room). If I someday decide to ship Pebbles with someone, I imagine he’d also be willing to sleep with them, again, only if no one else is around to see it.

To elaborate on the last point and shift to Five Pebbles’ perspective, the reason why Pebbles always wants to sleep alone is because, as I imagine the worm-off-the-string story so far, Pebbles’ biggest internal conflicts are learning to accept all those “worldly attachments” the Ancients so strongly rejected, and overcoming his god-complex and fear of relying on others. And one of the main ways this manifests is him being so deeply embarrassed to be dealing with these basic survival needs — like yet another one of the savage beasts roaming the world, after having been a vast mechanical god so far above those primitive creatures — that he refuses to let others, even his friends and family, observe him in such a “pitiful” state whenever possible, and resolves to try and overcome it alone. 

To further continue this idea, this is why Moon sometimes insists on sleeping with him. Even though he’ll have to overcome these conflicts on his own, it doesn’t mean he has to be alone while he does it. She makes an effort during these and other moments in this scenario to assure him that it’s okay, no one’s gonna judge or punish him for living this way, and she’ll always be there if he ever decides to accept some help. Pebbles always falls asleep with his head buried in her chest and holding onto her very tightly.

The iterators often like to sleep with their slugcats, who in the AU also stick around a lot to help guide them as they figure out the ins-and-outs of organic survival. 

Both Moon and Pebbles tend to sleep in a curled position. It's actually very similar to how slugcats generally sleep!

Pebbles is quite the workaholic in general, but it also means he has a hard time falling asleep — not because he doesn’t get sleepy, but rather that he often denies it or its significance in an attempt to get more done that cycle (and because, again, he’s “too advanced” for animalistic things like sleeping). The group often has to literally drag him to bed to get him to sleep, and Sig often teases him when his lenses start drooping and his syllables begin to stretch.

In extreme cases, where almost all of their power has been exhausted, iterators won't just slur their words anymore, but their speech will often lose coherency overall, like a spoken case of very drunk typing .

When sleepy, Moon not only slurs her words, but has a tendency to say rather strange and very silly things. It’s another side-effect of less power being used to actually think through her words. There have been many instances where the whole group erupted in laughter after Moon made a really out-of-left-field comment!

Oh, and here's one last quick doodle based off one of the ones above:

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Aaaand that's all for another headcanon! Even though it took me a whole week to do the drawings, it was SO fun getting to develop this idea, especially since sleepy Moonie is such a cute concept! I am so glad that you shared that little idea, Ghost!!

And speaking of which, if you've made it all the way down here, Ghost, may I invite you to add any more ideas to all this, if you want? I'd especially love hearing ideas for the other iterators' sleeping habits (how fast they get tired, what position they like to sleep in, who they usually sleep with, how they wind down before bed, etc.)! I mainly focused on Moon and a bit of Pebbles at the end, since I'm still trying to get a read on Sig and Suns's personalities (especially Suns), so it'd be fun to even further expand on this idea in that regard! Of course, you don't have to, but it's a proposition!

But regardless, I hope you and anyone else who made it to the bottom enjoyed my contributions to the idea! And be sure to keep the adorable headcanon ideas coming!!

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Bonus: Here are the full sketchbook pages, in case anyone was interested in seeing the completed layout! I think I'm gonna be making more of these kinds of drawing/explanation combo artworks!3

[midnight-laundry]

I'm a filthy multishipper so tbh I'll read any Izzy ship that is well written (except Jack as mentioned previously) but I'm mostly veering wildly between steddyhands and poly Lusrael. I think Lusrael wins for me by a tiny margin because he's my other favorite character so I'm mashing them together like Barbies 😂😂😂😂 and also because some of the best writers I've encountered in my life main Lusrael, but there's SUCH good steddyhands out there, I'll absolutely consume all of it like a roomba let loose xD Have you read A Pirate Tryptich? If you can stomach heavy angst it's my favorite steddyhands series out there. For fluffier stuff my other biiiiig favorite is Cherry Wine.

(I'm 100% with you on Stede lmaooo. Also fun fact, one of the reasons I call Lucius and Izzy Lusrael is because Sprizzy makes me think of a spritz bottle xD)

i did read pirate triptych that’s such a good one and i re-read cherry wine on a regular basis it hits all my domestic fluffy steddyhands buttons

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

Got room for one more lost sheep? // e.m x gn!reader

All thoughts, actions and feelings expressed verbally by reader as well as in the narrative are mine. Some good ol' self-insert catharsis🥰 I would have done anything to have had an Eddie in high school to help me deal with all the bullying, but I never found one. I feel like I'm still waiting for him in my mid 20s... There's time.💖 (And if I can’t find one, then I’ll keep working on becoming one. I feel like he’d appreciate that.)

TW; talks of VERY specific bullying encounters from the past (my own irl ones from high school; Jason against reader), reader is painfully shy because of said bullying but they grow into it, angst, comfort, anger (Eddie), swearing with dialogue & narrative, slow burn, love confessions, friends to lovers trope (my beloved💖).

As outlined HERE, I just wanted to talk to Eddie for five minutes so here that gush is, fully fleshed out into a fic!

Summary:

"I was always the odd one out. The freak. I had my music and my books to get me through the days but I always looked for someone like you, Eddie. I never found you."

Fingers darted across the table, slipped between your own and squeezed hard.

"I'm here now, sweetheart."

"Yeah," you dashed tears from your eyes with your other hand, "you are."

Word count: 7, 447. (my firstborn😭)

Tagging @hersweetrevenge @seafrost-fangirl @another-day-in-chuckletown @alliecheer007-88 @sabbathsworld and also @eddiebunson & @hawkinshighdropout who both gave me so much advice on Eddie’s character! Without these two, this fic would have been deleted, unfinished, and it never would have seen the light of day! and a biiiiig thank you to @gemstone-roses for reading this over for me when it was almost finished and easing my anxieties about posting!

Eddie Munson had always intrigued you, ever since you first saw him.

He was... beautiful.

You were sat across the room from him in the cafeteria, your nose in a book. Music blared through your headphones but you tried to keep your body still. If you had been at home, you would have allowed your body to move to the music; no rhyme or rhythm, just movement for its own sake as you sank into the music like it was a hot bath for your soul. But you were in a crowded canteen and you were already disliked as it was, for no 'crime' other than being yourself.

For many people, that was enough of an excuse to be a bully.

People so loved to condemn what they didn't comprehend.

You had, years ago, learned to accept that you understood yourself (sometimes, and often with much introspection), even if no one else did or bothered to even try, and that simple yet devastatingly complex truth had to be enough.

It had to be.

As you turned the page, only half reading your latest book, you felt eyes on you. You looked up and around the room, trying not to make it seem like you were looking for someone, before you caught Eddie's gaze. There was a roughness to him, most definitely some kind of edge which made you realise that you never wanted to piss him off, but there was a softness to him, too. The cruelty of the world had eroded his walls, chipping pieces of him away at a time, leaving some tender vulnerabilities which he patched over with a devil-may-care attitude. Most people took him at face value, but you saw yourself in him, and it only made you even more curious about him.

There was more to Eddie than met the eye, and you wanted to know him. You wanted to know him as well as you knew yourself, but you had never even spoken to him.

He lifted his eyebrows as you maintained the glance and you couldn't help the small genuine smile as you saw that you had his attention. Even if it was only for a moment. You weren't sure if he was surprised that you were returning the non-verbal hello or if he was asking a question with those eyebrows, but you raised a hand in a small wave. You felt embarrassed to be waving, but you didn’t want to leave Eddie hanging. So many people ignored him, and you had sworn to yourself long ago that if you were ever lucky enough to get to speak to him, you would take full advantage of any chances you found or forged… whichever came first. This instance, the very first of many, was the latter. The kind smile which you received in response was small, and those eyebrows were definitely surprised now, but Eddie waved back after looking around to make sure that you were waving at him, and not someone walking past. Something in you ached at that, and you felt compelled to finally, after months of being drawn to him, approach Eddie for yourself.

You stood up, removing your headphones, the guitar riff cut off half way through, though it continued to play in your mind, so familiar were you with your favourite songs that you could listen to them with your imagination almost note for note. You let the book close, stuffed it into your bag, dropped your Walkman in with it, and carefully made your way through the circular tables and various groups which spelled trouble for those who didn't fit into one neat little societal ascribed box. People stared at you as you did so, and you had to step over a few feet; people trying to trip you up wasn't anything new, but you weren't in the mood. You had a laser focus on Eddie, who had been nudged by one of the kids he was sitting with as they all watched you approach their table. Eddie only shook his head; it looked like he said, “it’s fine”.

No one ever approached Hellfire at all, let alone willingly, yet you had done so of your own accord.

Your courage left you as Eddie's eyes caught yours for a second time, and you faltered in your steps. Those eyebrows raised again, just slightly, and you thought that perhaps it was encouragement. Or maybe he was curious. Or maybe he was going to be rude to you like everyone else was... you shook that thought off. This was Eddie. You didn't know him that well, not yet, but you knew enough to know that he was gentler than he looked. It was a huge part of the intrigue for you, how someone who looked so intimidating could be so kind.

What sort of life had he known?

You suspected that the answer to that question would be answered by the sands of time, as all mysteries unravel with enough patience and persistence. The tapestry of Eddie Munson was undoubtedly an ethereal one, and you wanted to see it now.

Finally, you reached his table, your fingers wringing the straps of your backpack, slung haphazardly over your shoulder in your haste to do as you wanted – to stop being forced to sit on your own, either at a table or in a bathroom cubicle, and to sit with Eddie and his friends - before you could talk yourself out of it.

“H-h, Eddie. I, uh, I – may I... can I sit – I mean, may I s - “ You sighed, frustrated with yourself, and turned away from Eddie to instead look out of the window. The sun was high and it left a green cast across your vision. It burned but you didn't look away, the stinging of the bright light distracting you from the telltale sting of tears.

Why couldn't you say one fucking sentence?

You didn't need to. Eddie saw you in that moment, and he took pity on you; helped you out a bit. You had extended a very tentative olive branch, and he remembered all too well the soul deep loneliness he had been plagued with before he had cultivated his Hellfire Club. His family.

Right away, so awfully shy (scared, as he would come to discover later on, when your own tapestry began to reveal itself), you were accepted. Befriended. Eddie's heart was an open highway, despite how many more people left than those that stayed. Most people chose to avoid his roads, rather than see things themselves before making a decision. He was used to it, but he wasn’t used to this, and he wanted to make the best of it. On that, you were agreed, though neither of you knew it.

“Gentlemen,” Eddie addressed his friends as he leaned over to grab the chair right in front of you, pushing it back until the edge of the chair pressed against your front. You stepped back and the chair scraped across the polished floor, making you wince. “I think we found another lost sheepie who needs our help. Who needs us.” He waved a hand in a way you read as 'sit down'.

“Y/N.”

Eddie had to strain his ears to hear you mumbling. You were painfully anxious, practically inaudible over the cacophony of the canteen, but you had paid a high price to just come over and he wanted to make it a little easier on you. He nodded and repeated your name to himself, committing it to memory. God, your heart was trying to beat out of your damn chest, pounding a wild tattoo against the cage of your ribs. You eased yourself down slowly, lowering your bag down gently. Wanting to get comfortable but waiting for the punchline.

The jokes you didn't see being set up always hit you the hardest in the aftermath but just this once, please, could something go right for you? Of all the tables in the canteen, you wanted the people sat at this one to be it for you.

You reminded Eddie of a wild animal as he watched you join his little flock, all caution just in case a loud or sudden noise made you bolt. The anxiety was coming off you in waves and he wondered what had caused you to finally come and say hello – this wasn't the first time he had caught you staring from across the room. You were a frequent starer, had been for months, but Eddie had never confronted you about it. Your gaze wasn't... demeaning but rather... Curious, and longing. Yeah, that sounded about right. He hadn't been waiting for you, per se, but he also hadn't been surprised by this turn of events. He thought… no, he knew it was brave of you to do this. Eddie knew a lost sheepie when he saw one, even when he wasn't wearing his Bo Peep. He'd been one his entire life until he'd found a way to become for others what he'd always so desperately craved for himself.

“Why are you here?” The question was blunt, rude, spoken by a dark curly haired teenager. You could barely see his eyes through the mop of curls and you shrunk back into yourself, wincing as you gripped the edges of the stiff plastic chair. Preparing to run.

“Shut it, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped, dark eyes flashed with irritation. “We welcome all lost sheepies here.” He took a deep breath and then smiled at you, his dimples just beginning to crease the apples of his cheeks. “And what brings you to Hellfire, little lamb?” Eddie adopted his Dungeon Master voice and paired it with another grand hand gesture, wanting to make you laugh. You were still so anxious and shy, borderline scared, Eddie thought, and he wanted to ease your way. You had been so courageous already and he wanted to help you. He had done the same for everyone sat at the Hellfire table at one point or another.

It helped that the intrigue you had always felt towards him was mutual. But you didn't know that, not yet.

Eddie had to coax you out of your shell first.

“I...” You took a deep breath, fisting the material of your shirt. You noticed that he had asked you the same question as Wheeler, though it had been worded much nicer and in such a way that you felt like it was okay to ask for what you wanted. Eddie's eyes followed the movement of your hands and he smiled kindly at you, trying to get you to ease up on the nerves. Just a little more. He wondered who had hurt you, for you to be like this over something most others took for granted. “I wanted to... come over and say hi because you're... Hellfire.”

“What? That doesn't even make sense.” Mike scoffed, pushing mashed potatoes around his plate.

Eddie closed his eyes in irritation, willed himself not to snap at the oblivious teen. In time, Mike would learn, as all children must. “It does, Wheeler. Count yourself lucky you never had to find so much bravery just for a hello.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of patience, waiting for you to continue. You weren't done just yet, he could feel it.

“I... you're Hellfire. You always have so much fun over here, I can hear you from across the canteen, and I was over there on my own and I just... I want to sit here with you all and soak up the sun. I – if that's okay, I don't want to be a bother or get in your way or anything.”

Eddie shook his head. “You're absolutely not a bother, sweet thing. There's always room for more.” He caught the implication that you had just called him the sun, warm and safe... A light blush dusted his cheeks but he refused to mention it to you or anyone else.

To stop anyone from noticing his reaction to your genuine, offhanded praise, and to show you that you were welcome, Eddie turned back to the group and carried on mocking the article he was reading aloud; how dangerous the group's beloved fantasy game apparently was. If D&D was that dangerous, then it was the safest danger you would ever know. It was as if you had been there the whole time, and you marvelled at how Eddie was able to make you feel like you fit in with just a few sentences. His vibe was warm, totally against the intimidating edge he put on every moment of the school day. You wanted to know him in private life.

If Eddie was the sun, as you had described, then you wanted to bask in him.

Just like that, you were a member of Hellfire. One lunchtime at his table turned to two, then three, then four, and before you knew it, you could barely remember what it was to have to sit alone in the bathroom eating lunch, or being made to sit in the canteen where people would 'accidentally' knock into you or otherwise pretend like you weren't there. You were a cheap source of entertainment and you loathed it, but in Hellfire, no one came near you.

Eddie had somehow become your protector; a Shepard tending to his flock.

It was everything you had daydreamed about that day you had decided to be brave, just for five minutes.

Usually, when someone approached Eddie, it was for a drug sale or for something less than savoury, and he was always on edge. But with you, Eddie only felt safe. You had never given him cause for concern, in that your words and actions were an act. Your anxiety had lessened over the weeks since you had joined Hellfire (especially since Eddie had given you your own shirt after a week of sitting with the group) but sometimes you retreated back into your shell and didn't come out, no matter how gently Eddie tried to coax you. That was okay, he understood you better than anyone else in Hellfire; much of yourselves were reflected in the other person. Someone had hurt you really bad in the past, they must have done, but Eddie never ever pushed you for anything. No questions asked, no explanations needed. He was content to let everything show itself in time. He knew how to be patient.

Until the day came, several weeks later, when Jason stormed into the canteen. He was shouting something about a pep rally, but his voice flooded you with so much fear that you felt nauseous and you practically threw yourself at Eddie with a noise which made his heart shrivel up in his chest. “No, no, no, no no no no no no no no - “ Your breathing picked up and you shoved your chair as close to Eddie as you possibly could, ducking your face into his back as you pressed your hands underneath his leather jacket, clinging to him. "Please don't let him see me, please please please - "

You weren't even thinking, Eddie registered in the back of his mind. You were hiding in your pure unadulterated fear. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, hey,” Eddie got out in a rush as he felt you burrow into his back, almost like you were trying to crawl inside his skin, where it was safe; the other Hellfire members looking at what little they could see of you like you had sprouted a third head, “Easy, easy, Y/N, it's okay,” Eddie reached back and rested his hand on whatever part of you was closest (he hoped it was nowhere inappropriate, though he doubted you cared), rubbing his thumb across your clothes. His tenderness with you was at total odds with the way he was glaring at Jason. Finally, the question of who had hurt you so badly in your life was answered, and Eddie had never felt as bloodthirsty with rage in his life as he did in that moment. “I've got you, sweetheart, you're safe, don't let go of me.” His dark eyes followed Jason across the canteen, passed the Hellfire Club (Eddie and Jason exchanged almost identical looks of disgust towards each other, but thankfully, Jason didn't spot you), right up to the door next to the stage as the jock left the room.

When Jason was gone, Eddie patted you, being careful with his hand because he still didn't know what was being touched. “You can come out now, little lamb,” his Dungeon Master voice usually made you giggle, but you only tightened your grip on him for but a moment before you let him go, very reluctantly, leaving Eddie's back cold and haunted by the ghost of your warm embrace. You sat up slowly, your eyes glassy with tears, and swiped your hands quickly across your face.

"Th-thank you. Sorry." You spoke both sentences quickly, as if you couldn't decide which one should be spoken first, though both were equally important for you to say. You took several long deep breaths and Eddie's fingers spidered across his lap as he searched for your hand under the table, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"He hurt you." Eddie stated slowly, his dark eyes so soft and tender that it made you want to cry. You bit down on your inner cheek and wrinkled your nose against the urge. You gave him a nod; it was all you had.

"Uh, what - what was that?" Mike's eyebrows had almost disappeared into his hairline as he and the others had watched you and Eddie interacting. You were too busy staring down at your hand, laced with Eddie's, to notice everyone sharing a look of 'holy shit' and 'what the fuck?' but no one said anything. Everyone was waiting for you and what you would choose to share with them.

"Jason scares me."

"Yeah, no shit," Someone snorted. It might have been Mike; you weren't paying all that much attention.

"He... shut me in a bathroom cubicle when I was in first year. Lured me there by asking me to do something... I think it was grabbing a book he'd forgotten or something. But I got jumped; shoved in a bathroom cubicle, which was then barricaded with... something, the fuck if I know. And they turned out the lights. Jason left me there in the dark, alone, for an entire school day. Only reason I was found was 'cause I didn't come home. My parents lost their freaking minds and ripped the school apart looking for me. And the day after, some girls shoved me into a locker... from there, it never stopped. All I had from then on were my music and my books." You sniffled and Eddie's other hand rubbed your back in fluid, slow motions. Comforting you. Briefly, you wondered if he comforted other friends like this. You appreciated how tactile he was. "Jason was always the instigator. Always. A few months after this, one of his guys asked to be friends with me. I agreed... didn't realise he'd done it as a dare. No one actually wanted to be friends with me... it was all a joke. Someone outside the group told me all about it after a few weeks and they mocked me for believing them, that anyone wanted me around. After that, I never bothered trying to make friends. Just gave up, let it happen 'til I became the freak. Had no one, really. Until... until you." You braved a small smile. "I figured if I made myself as small and as inconsequential as possible, he'd ignore me. And he does... but he scares me." You glanced at Eddie, then. "Sorry I threw myself at you."

It was the most any of them had ever heard you say in one sitting during all the time they had known you, and you felt like a small weight had been let off your chest. Eddie, who had waited patiently for you to reach the end of your tale, was almost shaking in rage. He jumped up and out of his seat, his tongue, as sharp as a blade, locked and loaded. All four guys sat at the table were watching him, their eyes wary; Eddie was gonna fight, he was gonna start something in your name, and he was going to get kicked out again. They had almost had one lunch time without Eddie causing a huge scene; while they enjoyed it when he did, they all knew that the consequences got worse for Eddie for every senior year re-run. Eddie was about to physically fight Jason and while the dude had it coming, did Eddie really have to do it now?

At least, that's what would have happened in any other instance.

Except you flinched.

You flinched away from Eddie, you ripped your hand out of his, when seconds ago you had thrown yourself into him, and Eddie swore under his breath, his fists trembling as he sunk back down in his seat. Nope. He couldn't fight. You flinched. He took several slow, deep, measured breaths, actively calming himself down, and then when he looked at you, there was a tender look in his chocolate eyes. He didn't want you to be scared of him, of what he was capable of. He wanted to comfort you, though his first instinct was to protect you by way of doing unto Jason as was done to you.

Eddie couldn't get your reaction out of his mind's eye and all at once, he was again reminded of the way you had resembled a wild animal that very first day, practically asking Hellfire Club to adopt you as one of their own. You didn't need Eddie to fight for you. You needed him to fight with you. More deep breaths and then Eddie calmed down, down...

"For the record," everyone looked at Eddie, mixed expressions on their faces, "you can always throw yourself at me, sweetheart."

It worked; the tension was defused, chuckles were released with some of that, but the atmosphere around the table was still a tad solemn. And Eddie was now and forevermore on what he would later call Jason Patrol.

Eddie hadn't attacked Jason that day in the canteen, but his protectiveness over you had amplified as he had sworn to himself and to you, that you would never be harmed again.

These were the times over the next few months where Eddie's feelings for you grew, just as yours did for him. You started to see Eddie everywhere; he would be coming from the opposite direction and you'd smile at each other, but then moments later he'd be on the other end of the corridor, slightly out of breath and greeting you like you hadn't just seen him. He was like a lost puppy, trying and failing to not let you catch onto him.

Once or twice, he'd come up to you and grab your face, almost smushing your cheeks together. No words would be said but the eye contact would be intimate, Eddie's dark eyes and gentle but firm, hot grip, not letting you turn your face away. There would be some kind of reassurance in his eyes and you would relax, though he wouldn't let you look around. The lengths of time he held you like this varied, but the same signal occurred every time. Dustin would pat Eddie's shoulder - Jason's gone - and the tension would melt out of his body, he'd blink, and in an instant go from serious back to his usual self.

The subject was only broached to you once more, as the school term was ending and Eddie's campaign was reaching a conclusion. Just a throwaway comment but to you, it kick-started your want to make Eddie aware of how grateful you were for and to him.

"Hey, uh, something else for the record," Eddie gestured right at you with a pretzel held like a guitar pick, "I would have noticed you missing, and I would have found you that day, I promise." He shoved the pretzel in his mouth, crunched down on it hard, and once again, his serious melted away as he nodded his goodbyes.

You remained at the table with Dustin and Mike after Eddie left to go secure a deal out by the benches, and slammed your head against the plastic table.

“Why can't I just – fucking – tell – him - “ Every word was punctuated with a bang against the table.

Dustin messily shoved his hand between your forehead and the table. “Holy shit!” He used his hold on your head to push it up so that he could look at you. “Stop doing that. Here, look,” Dustin leaned over with a glance at Mike, who just shrugged. “You gotta tell Eddie. This is the kinda thing he'd want to know.”

“But, Dustin - “ You pushed back against Dustin's hand, making as if to hit your head again, and then leaned fully back until the kid lowered his hand. You shot him a small smile, thank you. “It's Eddie. I can't tell him. What if he doesn't believe me or doesn't want to know what I want to tell him?”

“And... what – what do you want to tell him?” Mike folded his arms over his chest, his dark brows furrowed in confusion as he and Dustin glanced at each other. Dustin had always been the most emotionally mature of the kids in Hellfire, and the relationship he and Eddie had was very familial; Dustin was touchy-feely with Eddie and Eddie was the very same back. No one interacted with Eddie the way Dustin did, and vice versa.

You took a deep breath. “All of it?”

Dustin waved his hand in a movement very much like Eddie. “Lay it on us.”

“Like... what kind of pretzels does he like? Those soft doughy ones which you gotta hold in two hands or those small hard ones he has at lunch? What guitar riffs in which Metallica songs make his heart bleed? Which lyrics made him who he is today? What's his – what's his bedtime routine? Does he have a morning routine? Is he... what Iron Maiden songs does he like? Not like? What about Black Sabbath? What are his favourite songs? Would he choose Ozzy over Black Sabbath if he had to, or the other way around or would he rather die? Is there a fourth option in that ridiculous scenario? I want to know what temperature he likes his food, how he takes his coffee, I want to know what his favourite things about planning campaigns are... how does he get started? How does he know when it's done? What song did he listen to this morning? What was the last one he remembers last night? What tattoo design is his favourite? Which one hurt the most? Why did he put them there on his body and not somewhere else? I want to know Eddie inside out, back to front and all the other ways. Like, if he was the ocean, I'd want to dive in. Get lost in him, you know?”

“Uhh... You get really talkative when it involves Eddie.” You weren't sure if Mike ever didn't have his eyebrows raised and you shrugged, flowers blooming inside your chest as warmth spread through you. You smiled, felt your face getting hot, and felt yourself becoming shy as you looked out of the window towards the forest. You couldn't deny it, not just to yourself but to anyone who bothered to learn, but how could you ever bring yourself to tell Eddie? It would probably ruin everything the two of you had together, and you would rather have Eddie as your best friend than you would not have him at all, all because you couldn't keep your feelings to yourself. You had done so well to get this far, you didn't want to jeopardise it. You ignored the part of you which wondered if Eddie felt the same way. That wasn't a road you wanted to even think about going down. Not now, and if your fear got your way, maybe not ever.

“Holy shit,” Dustin breathed, “You love Eddie. Like, a lot. That's it, Y/N, you need to tell him. Eddie will want to know. He won't care how you tell him, just that you do.” Dustin waved his hand, as if to consider the deal done.

You were going to have to confess to Eddie. The thought terrified you, excited you, made you feel like you shouldn't have stolen some of Eddie's pretzels as your stomach churned. “But, Dustin - “

“No! Y/N, you don't know Eddie like I do. You gotta tell him. Eddie's always had it rough but this? This will be...” Dustin shook his head, “Why didn't I see this before? He would be upset if you didn't tell him. Pretty sure he feels the same way.”

“Wh-what?”

Mike shrugged, his dark eyes amused. “Don't see him holding anyone else's hand under the table, do you?”

Dustin giggled, and you were almost mystified.

The topic was dropped as the lunch bell rang to signal that classes were resuming, and you thought that that was it.

You should have known that Dustin wasn't the type of person to let things go. He wanted Eddie to know that he was loved, so much, by you, the one who had risked it all in the name of wanting a new friend. You and Eddie had always been drawn to each other, and Dustin wondered what Eddie would give him as a favour once he got together with you. Dustin would be owed big time for this. Dustin wanted Eddie to be happy and he wanted you to be happy, and so he got to scheming.

The next day, Dustin filled Mike in on his plans.

“Dude, who cares? Let them work it out thems - “

Dustin sighed, shaking his head at Mike's nonchalance. “Really? Do you really think Y/N's gonna tell Eddie anything? They're still so shy but they really get going when it involves Eddie. Just – follow my lead, all right? I'll get Eddie in the room, you get Y/N talking. Eddie will take the opening given to him – you know what he's like. He just needs a single word from Y/N and he'll take the lead.” Dustin saw that Mike was still sceptical, and he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Look, just start talking. Ask Y/N about Eddie, boom, they'll do everything they need to and not even know about it. It'll come out easier and then they can quit pining over each other.”

Mike wasn't happy about going along with the plan, but if he didn't do it, then someone else would. And it was free entertainment, so what the hell?

The time until lunch for the boys dragged but then the bell rang and Dustin's plan was set into motion as he raced to Eddie's class - Mrs O'Donnell's. The two walked to the canteen together, exchanging pleasantries or a comfortable silence, before Dustin stopped Eddie at the door.

"How do you feel about Y/N?"

Eddie blinked in surprise once, twice, and his response came out in one long breath. He'd held onto his truth for too long. "I am... So totally into them, man, it's not even funny."

"It's just, Mike and I were talking to 'em and there's something they wanna tell you but they're shy about it so we were gonna - " Dustin made a vague gesture with his hands.

Eddie listened as Dustin filled him in. Intrigued, cautious, but willing to listen. "All right, man. I'll... Yeah." What else could he say to something so cryptic?

Dustin shot Mike a thumbs up from across the room and the darker haired teen rolled his eyes, dumped his backpack on the floor as he made his way over to the lunch line. Eddie and Dustin followed, making sure to stand within earshot but outside of your immediate line of sight.

Eddie only needed to hear you.

"So, uh," Mike caught Dustin's eyes over your shoulder, "do you... Wanna practice telling Eddie with me?"

You shook your head. "No, it's... I can't tell him. I won't."

Mike frowned. "Why?"

You smiled. "He's Eddie." It sounded like everything and nothing all at once, but it was the best explanation you had.

"Yeah, but," Mike poked around at his food. How did someone manage to burn sweetcorn? "You had so much to say yesterday. Tell me again what you wanna know? Maybe I can help you out. I've known him longer than you have."

Eddie had a look of concentration on his face, his dark eyes glued to your back. Dustin hid his smile behind a crooked knuckle, teeth gnawing at his skin. Come on, Y/N... Be brave for another five minutes. Eddie needs this and you do too.

You sighed. Everyone involved heard the wistful undertone. "I just - " You sighed again, frustrated that you couldn't just say it, but then it all flooded out of you, "I just want Eddie to know I love him. And - and if he was an ocean, then I'd want to dive in and get lost. I want to know, like, does he like doughy pretzels or the small crunchy ones? Which Black Sabbath songs are his favourite and does he prefer Ozzy as a solo artist or with Sabbath? How does he do his hair? How did he fix that chain to his jacket? What patches does he prefer - ones you sew, iron or glue? What's his favourite thing about being a Dungeon Master? Does he have a thing he doesn't like about D&D and if so, how does he work around it? Or does he do it anyway for the love of the whole? I just... I want to know Eddie so I can love him properly, the way I already do but in such a way that he can't possibly question it because it's right in front of him. But I couldn't tell him... it'd ruin everything. And it'd put pressure on him to say something back and then it could go wrong and I'd... just rather love from afar than try close up and get burned, you know? Eddie burns so hot. I said it to him when we met but... he's like the sun. He makes me feel warm, safe... he makes me feel like myself. I love him so much, Mike, I - "

Eddie couldn't take it anymore.

He stepped out from where he was hiding with the biggest, goofiest smile on his face, the apples of his cheeks heavily creased. The blush on his face was very obvious, and he tugged a thick lock of his dark hair over his mouth, hiding even as he said, "So, uh... do you - do you really mean that, Y/N?"

Mike may as well have thrown ice cold water all over you.

You froze, a deer in headlights. Still, you found it within you to nod. What would be the point of lying? Immediately, Dustin's plan became clear to you, and though you were grateful to him for doing what you had not the courage to do, you were scared. Of Eddie. Of what he would - or wouldn't - say, as the case may be. You felt sick, shot Dustin a look of 'what the fuck do I do?'

Once again, he had your back.

Dustin cleared his throat. "Take Y/N to the benches, Eddie. You can... talk." A tight smile, a sarcastic comment held back. He wanted to tease the two of you, but he remembered how he and Suzie had been initially, and so he refrained. This wasn't the time or the place. He could get Eddie for it later. But for right now... talking.

Eddie gave Dustin a look of brotherly pride. Fuck, he loved that little shrimp. Didn't know why all of the time, but Dustin shined in moments which required emotional maturity and intelligence. Mike could learn a lot from Dustin. He needed to. "Yeah, dude," Eddie nodded, shouldered his bag. His other hand reached out for yours, gave you a comforting squeeze. His fingers laced in yours was so familiar a sensation, physically and emotionally, that it relaxed you even in this situation. The effect he had on you was insurmountable.

And now he knew.

Shit, shit, shit.

"C'mon, sweetheart, let's go somewhere where it's just us. We'll be safe there."

You would follow Eddie anywhere, so with cheeks burning, eyes on the floor, you did as he directed. You felt safety in the way Eddie was taking the lead, in the way this situation had been orchestrated. You had wanted to tell him so badly but you hadn't had it in you, so your friends had helped you yet again. Already, you were devising ways in which you could thank them.

In forever but also no time at all, Eddie had you at the bench where he did his deals; you sat, knees bouncing and looking everywhere but Eddie, and he let his hand slip out of yours. You flexed your fingers, palm cold, empty, and you took your own hand. The feeling wasn't anything near what it felt like to hold Eddie's hand, but it was good enough a method to ground you. Keep you brave.

"Y/N, hey," Eddie's voice was soft, almost a hush, as if he was afraid to disturb the moment, to disturb you. "Look at me, please? You don't, uh - you don't have to speak. Just look."

You dared - you dared - to do as Eddie asked, and the breath left you all at once. Fuck, you had never seen his eyes so dark, so intense. He was looking into you and he laid his hands on the bench, palms up, fingers rubbing against themselves. You copied him and Eddie smiled as he read you like a book, once more locking your fingers with his own and squeezing in comfort, reassurance.

"So, I, uh - " Eddie chuckled awkwardly, looked away and into the trees, "How - how much of that did you mean?" The fact that he was asking you the same question twice in two different ways spoke of the real untold truths about his self-opinion and worth. It made your heart ache and then it was your turn to squeeze his hand in comfort.

"All of it." Fuck it, you were diving in headfirst. The first step was always the worst, the scariest, and you were over that hurdle now. Dustin had practically shoved you across the obstacle and left you to find your footing, but Eddie had been there on the other side, hand outstretched, ready to meet you halfway. Where he found you.

Silence fell, you and Eddie toying with each other's fingers and exchanging small awkward smiles.

Suddenly, Eddie flung himself backwards off the bench, making you gasp and jump up, an incredulous laugh on your lips at the awkward, endearing way he sat himself up, golden leaves all in his hair and dirt across his shirt. He dusted himself down, smirking; a way to lighten the mood, defuse the tension. He was so good at getting you to relax, at getting you to listen to yourself, and he didn't have to do anything other than to be himself... and wasn't that what you had always been drawn to, what you had always loved about him?

"I like smaller pretzels, for the record. Uhh, can't choose between Ozzy solo and Sabbath, I'd rather cut my hair to a buzzcut again instead of choosing between them and you know I love my hair," Eddie was pacing, listing off things he could remember from your speech in the canteen, "my routines for the morning and night are that there are no routines, I wing it. Just like I'm doing now." A beat and then, "what song were you listening to that day in the canteen, when you came over to Hellfire?"

You didn't have to think about it, your chest tight as you finally got some answers to your burning questions. But the more curiosity Eddie sated, the more you had, and you wanted to just get inside Eddie's mind, to become one with him so every part of him was with every part of you, and you could have every truth within him all at the same time. So you'd never be away from him. "Sabbath's War Pigs."

Eddie gave you an appreciative look, surprise etched across his face, and you grinned at each other, both of you finding your normal footing again. He was Eddie and you were Y/N; at your cores, you would always be these people. Best friends and lovers; the ultimate combination.

"Eddie, I... there was something I didn't share that day." You paused, asking for permission to elaborate. Eddie made a show of getting comfortable, resting his chin on his hand and gazing at you. He had all the time in the world for you, with you. He wanted to seize every second. "I was always the odd one out. The freak." Your eyes burned with tears; you didn't fight them. This was all too much and yet, not enough. "I had my music and my books to get me through the days, of all those things you know happened to me, but I always looked for someone like you, Eddie. Someone to protect me, to help me help myself. I'm not so good at that." You smiled sadly. "I never found you."

Fingers darted across the table, slipped between your own and squeezed hard.

"I'm here now, sweetheart."

"Yeah," you dashed tears from your eyes with your other hand, "you are." You couldn't speak anymore. Eddie had taken you to the point where words had run dry and all you could do was feel. "Things are better with you. You're my best friend and I'm so scared you're - "

Eddie tilted his head, eyes sharp. Considering. All at once, he realised he hadn't told you his own feelings and his eyes widened almost comically large as he sought to rectify the situation. "No, I, uh," he chuckled, "I feel the same as you, Y/N." At your look of doubt, he insisted, "no, really. Jesus, the moment I saw you sitting at the table on your own, I knew you were someone special. Did I know how special? No!" He scoffed, "Fuck no! But I knew. That's gotta mean something, Y/N. You're safe here with me, I promise you, and I don't just mean here," he patted the bench for emphasis, "I mean here, too." He leaned over and rested his hand in the air just above where your heart would be; grazing your shirt but not touching you.

Eddie had never needed physical touch to be able to reach your soul.

You both had music in common, and that gave him an olive branch to extend to you. "Listen, I - " he scratched the back of his neck, all bravado gone, "Do you maybe wanna come back to my castle and I'll play some stuff for you? You've never heard me before and I wanna share - " Eddie looked away, the apples of his cheeks giving away the wide grin he was trying to hide from you, " - that stuff with you, so."

You nodded, heat spreading across the inside of your forehead, your stomach swirling, "I'd love to! On one condition." Your smile was building in tandem with Eddie's anticipation, his eyebrows raised in question, "Take me to your next show? I hear Corroded Coffin is the hottest band in town."

Eddie's grin couldn't be contained or restrained; it took over his whole face. You giggled in the face of his happiness and felt it brewing in you, too. The both of you had always been drawn to each other, but neither of you could ever have expected this. In a flash, Eddie was up and out of his seat, around the bench, and throwing his arms around you in a tight bear hug.

"You are something else, Y/N!"

You would have said the same about Eddie, if he hadn't squeezed you so hard that he stole the breath from your lungs.

Oh, well. There was always time.

[medikits]

//My love of angst would want it to be where once he finally starts to fall for his soul mate, she's started moving on and he gets insanely jealous XD

Biiiiig argument in the rain leading to a kiss type of moment lol

soulmate au where something happens when one meets their soulmate and jir being pretty devastated that tsunade didnt trigger it and honestly probably hides it if its a physical marking of some kind. Or loses faith if its any other kind of change.