#german sparkle party

[lokoteibex]

✨✨Do you like to dancy-dance?✨✨ ✨✨Ja, I wore my party pants!✨✨

This is not the first picture of Kurt I've drawn, but it's the first one I've published! And this monstrosity is what it is. XD XD XD This throwback to thirteen years ago, because I've basically had the song stuck in my head since Kurt showed up in X-Men '97. (Remy's not the only one who can rock a crop top.)

Also, why is good anatomy always wasted on stupid pictures? XD

[thegothicviking]

This will never not be funny! 💕

*it looks like Till is singing "hardcore dance" and everyone is goofing around*

(And yes that is me cackling like a chicken while I'm filming)

[twiintaurus]

Veteran hetalians who have been in the fandom for a decade plus stumbling across anything that reminds them of The Cursed Times (2010ish - 2015ish)

[sansaorgana]

I 👏🏻 need 👏🏻 the 👏🏻 part 2 👏🏻 of 👏🏻 your 👏🏻 buck and bucky poly fic 👏🏻. Where they are reunioned after the war and the reader takes care of our traumatized boys

hii! 🙈 sorry for making you wait so long! this time I didn't chicken out and delivered a full smut 😘

[ PART ONE ] || [ PART THREE ]

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

When Buck had been leaving you, you had only thought of two possibilities – him finishing his twenty five missions as fast as he could and coming back to you before Christmas or him dying there. That he would go down and end up in a POW camp until the end of the war… You simply had not predicted. In fact, you hadn’t even thought of such a possibility and it was dreadful because all you had been doing was to wait. Wait, wait, wait… Every day and every night. God only knew how long the war would last but at least he was safer in that camp than flying over German heads. And – most importantly – Bucky was with him. Your two boys together.

You still remembered the night before Bucky’s departure. How could you ever forget? It had changed everything between the three of you. At first, you had wanted to forget and move on, hoping that once your desire had been fulfilled, you would no longer crave him. But that had been not the case. And a few weeks after Gale’s departure, your boyfriend had asked you two things – to marry him and for you to start writing letters to Bucky as well because his best friend had been lonely and he had no one to write to him; no one to fight and come back for. That had been an odd combination of questions but to the both of them you had answered – yes.

In the meantime, you moved out of the room you had been renting. One of your friends had become a war widow and you moved in with her to the house she had shared with her late husband. She had quickly remarried and moved in with her new man, allowing you to stay in the old house – you didn’t have to pay the rent, just the bills. And in return, you were taking care of the place in case she wanted to sell it or for her children to take it over one day. She had become a war widow and a married woman again and all this time you had been patiently waiting.

And now, when the new summer was just around the corner, they were coming back. You had prepared the house for their arrival, knowing they were supposed to go back to The States together. And on the very next day they were to come to you. Since you were not married to Buck yet, it would already cause quite a gossip if he stayed over. And him bringing a friend, too? Quite a scandal. But you didn’t care. God almighty, they had survived the war, they had survived hell… And you were supposed to care about small town gossip? No.

You had prepared a separate room for Bucky in the guest room downstairs. And while putting the sheets on, you wondered what it would be when they are back. Awkward, surely. The letters you had been exchanging with Bucky were… Not as innocent as you had imagined them to be at first. You wondered if Buck knew. 

You had bought a new dress for their arrival – delicate and feminine fabric with a flower pattern. Pearl earrings and an apron to make sure you wouldn’t get the new dress dirty as you baked a cherry pie for them. You didn’t invite anyone, it was no party. You didn’t have many friends in this town and the boys were coming from different states than you. There was no one to invite but you still wanted to greet them nicely.

You heard a car outside and took the apron off to hang it on the wall as you looked out of the window and you spotted a military car parking outside. Buck and Bucky left it with their small bags and they said goodbye to their friends inside before looking at each other and taking deep breaths in. Your heart pounded in your chest – it felt nearly unreal to see them again… Both alive and both in one piece each even though even from afar you could see that their faces… Their faces looked older, more tired. Their eyes lost the sparkle but you didn’t mind – how could you? And you hadn’t been expecting anything different. In fact, you had gotten older, too. And all that worrying, it had an effect on the way you looked as well.

You hurried to the hall and opened the front door shyly as they both looked in your direction. You were aware that some of your neighbours were watching behind their windows so you had to act carefully.

You ran out straight into Gale’s arms, crashing with him with all force, nearly knocking him down as Bucky chuckled. Gale lifted you up and spun you around, covering your face in dozens of tiny, sweet kisses and you cupped his cheeks as you examined his own face with your teary eyes. There were tiny scars scattered all over and you kissed them all before kissing his nose and eyelids, his lips.

“You’re back,” you breathed out finally, the very first words spoken between you two.

And then you looked at Bucky and you wished you could do the same to him. But you just gave him a stiff hug and patted his back. 

“You’re back,” you told him with a nod of your head and he nodded as well, awkwardly. His eyes longed to touch you and greet you properly but you were exposed outside. And even inside, it just felt wrong.

You were his best friend’s fiancée… The night before his departure, the letters… He still had not been sure what they meant. Perhaps they existed out of pity or as a treat, nothing more. And Buck was just very considerate and kind to share… But only a little. At the camp, they had been talking about you as if you were theirs and they had been doing things that solidified the odd, sinful union – sharing your letters and your pictures, telling each other sweet and spicy fantasies about you. But still… It was Buck who had been dating you first and it was Buck who had proposed to you. And now they were back and they didn’t need to desperately hang on to things to survive, so… Buck could be less eager to share you now. And Bucky would understand that but he still wanted to try his shot whenever the occasion would show up.

You all walked inside and you closed the door behind you, finally being alone in the privacy of your house.

“The bathtub is in the bathroom upstairs,” you told them. “Bucky’s bedroom is here, the door on the left down the corridor. Please, unpack yourselves, change your clothes. I will finish preparing food, okay?” You asked, not knowing what to do.

Not only with Bucky it was awkward but with Buck, too. How much did he know? And why did he feel so… Strange? Like you had never met him before. You still felt comfortable around him and your heart was still full of love at the sight of him but he now knew about the horrors you would never comprehend and that was creating a wall between you two.

They nodded at you and you left them to go back to the kitchen. You put the apron back on and started to work on the salad as the dinner you had prepared earlier was reheating.

Bucky was done first. He walked downstairs from the bathroom and joined you in the kitchen. At first, he leaned on the doorframe and then he cleared his throat to let you know about his presence and walked up to you, putting his hands around your waist and leaning down to put his chin on your shoulder before placing a kiss upon your cheek. Your heart pounded in your chest but his touch was more than welcome. God, you had been missing him.

“Thank you for all your letters,” he breathed out into your ear. “They saved me.”

“Thank you for staying alive and coming back to me,” you whispered back and he grabbed your wrist as he furrowed his brows at the ring on your finger. “I bought it for myself at the pawn shop,” you explained. “After I sent the letter to Buck where I agreed to marry him.”

“And the second letter was for me,” Bucky hummed to himself.

You were interrupted by Gale clearing his throat now and you got startled, moving away from Bucky’s arms. He let go of you but he kept standing there as if nothing had happened. Gale approached you two and now it was his turn to put his hands on your waist as he leaned in to kiss the crook of your neck.

“You look beautiful, my darling,” he told you. “I love your dress.”

“And the ring?” Bucky asked. “Have you seen the ring she bought herself at the pawn shop, pretending it was from you?” He lifted your hand and Buck took it from him gently as he examined the piece of jewellery.

“It’s stunning, my love. But I feel bad that you had to buy it yourself,” he placed a kiss upon it.

“It’s fine. At least I chose a ring that I like,” you shrugged your arms. “So many women are gifted rings that they don't really like,” you added with a chuckle and swallowed thickly at the awkwardness of the situation.

“I just thanked our girl for the letters she sent me. They saved me,” Bucky brought that up again and you felt your cheeks heating up at the way he called you their girl. There was no reaction from Buck whatsoever… You had a feeling they had already discussed it before.

“Your beautiful letters saved us both, my darling,” Buck nodded and leaned in to place a kiss under your ear. “We exchanged them often. And the pictures you sent us. Everything,” he murmured into your ear.

“You saved me, too, to be fair,” Bucky told him.

“And you saved me,” Gale smiled gently, you felt his lips curving on your delicate skin.

The timer in the oven went off, interrupting the scene. You cleared your throat and moved out of Buck’s arms.

“Dinner’s ready,” you announced.

During dinner, the boys were telling you stories from the war and the camp that they hadn’t been able to tell you in their letters. Of course they were not all the stories and they were told chaotically but you didn’t mind that. Your heart was aching for them – especially in the moments when their voices were shivering and eyes watering. But what you had noticed was that they had truly survived all of this because they were together and it was making you happy that they had been taking care of each other.

They insisted on washing the dishes so you left the kitchen to them and you went to the bathroom to prepare yourself for bed now. You would go to sleep earlier on that day because they both had been exhausted.

You changed into a white nightgown and brushed your hair and teeth before putting a perfumed lotion all over your body. You went to your bedroom and saw Buck’s bags on the chair, still unpacked. You sighed and began unpacking them to put them in your wardrobe – your friend from whom you rented the house allowed him to stay for some time until you get married and move out. She just didn’t know about Bucky…

But what about Bucky? Would he leave in a few days? Or would he stay? You had no idea. It was all a mess.

Once you were done with Gale’s things, you went to your bed and waited for him. He entered the bedroom with a soft smile but he left the door ajar. He changed into his pyjamas and joined you in the bed. You opened your arms for him to lay his head on your chest as you played with his hair. He needed comfort and warmth and you loved to give it to him but you also felt guilty because you had a feeling Bucky needed it, too.

“Your scars…” You started softly and he looked up like a hurt puppy. “They make you look even more beautiful, my love,” you assured him and caressed the exposed side of his face gently. “They make me so proud to be your woman.”

He didn’t say anything but he moved up a little to kiss your chest and then your neck while you rubbed his back in a soothing manner. And then you saw Bucky in his pyjamas leaving the bathroom and about to walk downstairs to his bedroom but he stopped and turned around to look at you and Buck. And he kept standing and looking for a long while until you parted your lips to say something but didn’t know what.

Buck noticed that something was wrong and he looked around. He spotted his best friend staring through the ajar door and he waved his hand over.

“Come,” he said and Bucky took a deep breath before joining you in the bedroom. He closed the door behind him – you weren’t waiting for anyone else.

“Come,” you said, too, as you moved a little to make more space in the bed on your other side.

Bucky nodded and got under the cover with you, pressing his face to the crook of your neck and breathing in your scent. He was trembling slightly and you realised how much he needed your comfort as well. You wrapped your arms around him now and pressed a kiss upon his forehead but Buck didn’t want to be abandoned as he attacked your neck with his wet and soft kisses on the other side. You put one of your arms around him and the other was still kept around Bucky, whose hands started to roam around your waist, pulling your nightgown up.

Gale’s kisses were making you shiver as his own hands squeezed your breasts. You moaned at the feeling – after nearly two years of being lonely and waiting, you had two men being all over you and it felt heavenly. Once again, desire and affection outcasted your shame and guilt. Was it really so wrong? Were you hurting anybody? 

In no time your nightgown was both pulled down to reveal your breasts – with your nipples perky from the cold air and stimulation – and pushed up to give them access to your wet folds. Buck’s lips were attached to your breasts as his fingers drew circles on your clit. Bucky’s mouth was all over your jaw and neck now as his long, slim fingers were fucking you in a fast and steady rhythm. Their muffled moans accompanied your whimpers of pleasure. You felt like their doll to play with and they were so touch-starved and hungry that all they wanted was to touch and feel you – nearly greedily and surely desperately.

All the fantasies they had been having about you, telling each other dirty stories, reading each other’s dirty letters you had been sending… They remembered them all now, finally being able to touch and pleasure you as if they had already forgotten you were a real person and not just a woman from their fantasy. But you were real indeed and they could finally touch you. They were both hard at the feeling of your skin, your every curve, every whine and whimper, every spasm going through your body between them. And as much as they wanted their pleasure, too – they were sure you would give it to them, they had a whole night for that, whole life perhaps. They weren’t impatient now, not at all. They were worshipping their goddess and nothing was more important than that.

With a loud moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head, toes curling and an arched back, you came hard as they kept caressing and stimulating you through your high, shushing you softly, until you slowly came back to reality.

“I…” You started, not knowing what to say but they didn’t let you finish. Bucky kissed you greedily, pushing his tongue deep inside your mouth and grabbing your face that was hot to touch after your orgasm.

When he let go of you to catch a breath, Buck turned your face to his side to kiss you the same and you felt a knot forming in your abdomen again from their greediness and neediness.

“I want to taste you,” Bucky whispered and you nodded, unsurely looking at Buck but he didn’t seem to mind. You opened your legs even further as Bucky pushed the cover aside and went down to disappear between your legs and lick you clean from your juices.

You moaned and cupped Gale’s face, pressing his forehead to yours, gasping for air as tears streamed down your cheeks when Bucky was sucking on your sensitive, swollen clit. His moustache was tickling you in a way that only turned you on even more.

“Shh, my pretty baby,” Buck cooed to you as he grabbed your wrists and kissed them all over before joining your lips together in another passionate kiss.

You could feel on your thigh how hard he was under the fabric of his pyjama pants. In fact, he was leaking already. You moved one of your hands down to grab his length as you began to pump him lazily and he moaned into your mouth while the shiver went down his spine. After such a long time he finally could feel your soft hand on his cock. He would cum very fast on that night, of that he was sure. But he trusted you, he knew you wouldn’t judge him.

And indeed, it didn’t take long for him to spill himself on your hand. He came when he saw you cumming from Bucky’s tongue – lips parted, forehead sweaty, soft moans leaving your mouth as you trembled. The sight and your hand jerking him off were enough.

“You taste like heaven,” Bucky moved up to kiss you now as he hovered above you as if he was about to fuck you missionary but you weren’t sure if you could take him now, right after two strong orgasms. So, instead, you slid your hand underneath his pyjama pants and pumped him the same way you had pumped Buck who was now cuddled to your side and breathing heavily into your neck, covering it with kisses.

It didn’t take long for Bucky either as he closed his eyes and got lost in pleasure from your soft hand. You pumped him fast and moaned softly to spur him on and not long after you felt his warm cum coating your hand.

“Good boy,” you praised as he lowered himself to join your foreheads together. You kissed him to taste yourself and to soothe him after his own orgasm before he laid down on the other side of you and cuddled you, too.

When they were both laying like that – Buck half asleep already – you stared at your hand and wondered what had become of you. But somehow, you didn’t feel anxious. In fact, in the strong and loving arms of the both of them, you felt the safest.

You couldn’t choose one of them, ever. And you would marry Buck most likely because it was the best option but you would keep Bucky close. Always keep him close. When you imagined the possibility of him marrying another woman – even to keep up appearances – it made you sick and angry. They were your boys and you were their woman.

“My sweet boys,” you cooed as you kissed Buck’s forehead and then Bucky’s. “Go to sleep, my darlings. You’re home,” you whispered and pulled the cover up over your bodies.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[floralcrematorium]

2010s Nostalgia || Hetalia Edition

Hetalia Youtube Nostalgia Playlist | 117 songs | 7hr 5min

• Hey Na Na - Katie Herzig • Viva La Vida - Coldplay • Rasputin - Boney M. • Glad You Came - The Wanted • Hot Mess - Cobra Starship • Counting Stars - OneRepublic • Fireflies - Owl City • Bombshell Blonde - The Jagged Edges • Do Better - Say Anything • Welcome To The Show - Britt Nicole • Dance With The Devil - Breaking Benjamin • Survive - Sick Puppies • Life is Beautiful - Sixx:A.M. • Fairytale - Alexander Rybak • Everybody Loves Me - One Republic • Don't Mess With Me - temposhark • Mimimi - SEREBRO • I Like It Loud - Cash Cash • I Just Wanna Run - The Downtown Fiction • I'm ALIVE! - Becca • Lovestruck - Breathe Electric • I Like To Dance - Hot Chelle Rae • Haven't Had Enough - Marianas Trench • Kiss Me Thru The Phone - Soulja Boy, Sammie • Hard out Here - Lily Allen • Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars • I Don't Care - Fall Out Boy • Airplanes - B.o.B., Hayley Williams • Rock Star - Prima J • This Is War - Thirty Seconds To Mars • Hey Brother - Avicii • Cinderella - Tata Young • Centuries - Fall Out Boy • Déjà Vu - 3OH!3 • Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy Me - Lene Alexandra • Miss Jackson - Panic! At The Disco, LOLO • The Ballad of Mona Lisa - Panic! At The Disco • Europe's Skies - Alexander Rybak • Bad Apple!! - RichaadEB, Cristina Vee • Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off - Panic! At The Disco • Let's Kill Tonight - Panic! At The Disco • Hurricane - Panic! At The Disco • Casual Affair - Panic! At The Disco • Never Close Our Eyes - Adam Lambert • Playing With Fire - Ovi, Paula Seling • Angel With A Shotgun - The Cab • Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco • Killer - The Ready Set • How to Be a Heartbreaker - MARINA • This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race - Fall Out Boy • Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) - My Chemical Romance • Troublemaker - Olly Murs, Flo Rida • Good Girls Go Bad - Cobra Starship, Leighton Meester • I Can't Decide - Scissor Sisters • One Woman Army - Porcelain Black • How To Start A War - Simon Curtis • Maps - Maroon 5 • Do Better - Say Anything • STARSTRUKK - 3OH!3 • Remember Everything - Five Finger Death Punch • The Diary of Jane - Breaking Benjamin • Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes • When You're Evil - Aurelio Voltaire • Canadian, Please - Julia Bentley, Gunnarolla • Sarah Smiles - Panic! At The Disco • Take Me to Church - Hozier • Viking Death March - Billy Talent • Headstrong - Trapt • Semi-Charmed Life - Third Eye Blind • Don't Believe A Word - Third Eye Blind • Warriors - Imagine Dragons • iNSaNiTY - CircusP • Paralyzer - Finger Eleven • I'm Awesome - Spose • 24 - Jem • Clarity - Zedd, Foxes • Hall of Fame - The Script, will.i.am • The Is Gospel - Panic! At The Disco • Immortals - Fall Out Boy • Rather Be - Clean Bandit, Jess Glynne • Wake Me Up - Avicii • a thousand years - Christina Perri • Just Like Fire - P!nk • Safe & Sound - Taylor Swift, The Civil Wars • Safe And Sound - Capital Cities • Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde • Demons - Imagine Dragons • DNA - Little Mix • Remember The Name - Fort Minor, Styles of Beyond • Victorious - Panic! At The Disco • 右肩の蝶 (Butterfly On Your Right Shoulder) - Kagamine Rin/Len • We Are One (Ole Ole) - Pitbull, Jennifer Lopez, Claudia Leitte • Hero - Skillet • Maraca - Mohombi • The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy • DONTTRUSTME - 3OH!3 • Teenage Dream - Katy Perry • SING - My Chemical Romance • Good Time - Owl City, Carly Rae Jepsen • White Rabbit - Egypt Central • Not Gonna Die - Skillet • The Kill - Thirty Seconds To Mars • We No Speak Americano - Yolanda Be Cool, DCup • Nobody's Listening - Linkin Park • Disco Pogo - Die Atzen • German Sparkle Party - The Something Experience • Dirty Little Secret - The All-American Rejects • I Could Be The One - Avicii, Nicky Romero • Can't Hold Us - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis • Still Into You - Paramore • Primadonna - MARINA • Pompeii - Bastille • 恋愛サーキュレーション (Renai Circulation) - 物語シリーズ • Awake And Alive - Skillet • Monster - Skillet • Poker Face - Lady Gaga • Falling Inside The Black - Skillet

[schoenpepper]

Intro: You choose the correct answer. Obviously.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, photos aren't mine, too much simping, swear words, google translated German, does Vil in a dress offend you? then go fuck urself

A/N: My love my darling my sweetheart my cutie pie babygirl dearie honey my honeybunch sugarplum pumpyumpykin sweetiepie cuppycake snookums ookums my dommy mommy queen dominatrix babygirl please step on me please degrade me hurt me berate me love me adore me drive your six inch stilettos through my guts and kiss me

Masterlist

Your fingers toy with the item on your palm. A delicate gold ring with leaf motifs and small diamonds, a round purple crystal in the middle. You're not too sure what it is, but it reminds you of his eyes: sparkling and bright, bringing their own shimmer wherever they reach. It's breathtaking. He's breathtaking. You haven't even seen him yet, and you already know he'll be stunning.

It's a little nerve-wracking.

Vil Schoenheit is always at the center of attention.

(At the very least, he'll always be the center of yours.)

You look out the window of the carriage in an attempt to distract yourself from your own thoughts. The trees lining the path seem to stretch upward as they yearn for the sun. The wildflowers are slowly wilting with the oncoming blaze of summer heat. You catch a glimpse of a creature lurking in the depths of the forest, waiting for its chance to strike.

(He's still in your head.)

The coachman opens the door for you and helps you step off the carriage before riding away, leaving you to marvel alone at the marble steps that lead to your destination. If you enter now, can you say with full confidence that the shining star, that beautiful prince of the Elven Empire, is your date? Will they assume that you meant it in a friendly sense? Even you don't have the answers to those questions. Whether or not he thinks of you as a friend isn't important to you; what matters is whether or not he sees you as something more. Maybe you'll get your answer tonight. Maybe you won't.

But you'll take the chance.

You have to.

The party's just starting to fill up when you arrive, yet too many people that you don't know are around you. None of your friends are here yet. It's the moment of quiet you've been looking for. Maybe, in the middle of all these strangers, you can finally think. Alone. Crystal chandeliers reflect rainbow light onto marble tiles, while colorful flowers are held inside glass vases, perched onto tables and pedestals every few steps. The music is yet to unfold into a glorious symphony, missing a few instruments to complete its melody. Your steps are drowned out in the sea of people as you walk yourself into a corner. Think, then.

Where is he?

Again, you are consumed by memories of lavender-tipped blond hair and lilac eyes, of fair and flawless skin, and everything that's him. Your eyes are always searching for him, skin always yearning for his touch.

(Gods, aren't you just pathetic?)

Your query is answered today through a series of quiet gasps and heads turning in a specific direction. You walk back to the center of the ballroom to see if it's him (of course it is; would anyone else be so blinding?).

Pure black silk is draped over his lean figure like a waterfall, reflecting a midnight sky in its satiny shine, with black chiffon sleeves billowing like a cape over his shoulders. A gold belt, carved like crawling vines, cinches his waist and matches the gold wreath that sat atop his hair. Long legs and shiny gold stilettos peek out from the high slit on his dress; a chunky gold collar-style necklace sits pretty on his collarbones; a gold vine bangle climbs from one shoulder down just above his elbow; and chunky gold hoops are clipped on his pointed ears. When Vil's eyes meet yours, you almost fall to the ground. The dark winged eyeshadow and metallic gold eyeliner, the matte black lipstick, and the gold patterns drawn on his cheek that signifies his status as elven royalty—

Breathe.

ohgodsohfuckohshitohwhatthehell—

You're forced to avert your gaze as you bring your hands up to cup your warm cheeks. He looks like divinity incarnate, and it's driving you just a little crazy.

"Y/N."

Okay. It's driving you very crazy.

"Senpai." You hate that your voice is so quiet and meek, and you just know you look like a tomato right now. A quick glance at other people confirms that you're not the only one killed by his charm, so there's that for consolation, at least. "You look beautiful tonight." It's an understatement, but you can neither look at him right now nor conjure any words more fitting for the vision. You deal with what you can.

"Oh, are you shy?" Vil chuckles as he tilts your chin up with one manicured finger. "Look at me. It would be a waste of all my efforts if my date refused to even look me in the eye." You notice he's wearing a ring, just a simple band, but with a familiar purple stone embedded into it. When you look into his eyes, however, your brain activity reverts back to that of a neanderthal.

"Do you think I'm beautiful?"

You nod.

"Are you glad you chose me as your date?"

You nod again.

"Would you like a kiss?"

You no—wait, um, fuck, what?!

Soft lips press onto yours for an annoyingly short kiss. Just a peck, really. It's enough to scramble your mind and get you to blue screen, though. "There we are, potato. My, you look disgraceful." He rubs off the small smudge of lipstick from the corner of your mouth. "Did you not choose a smudge-proof product? You should have; it's always best to be prepared."

Prepared for what???

"Senpai, um, would you like to dance...?" Good job; you've managed to stutter out a near-coherent invitation.

Vil leads the waltz because you're not feeling too great right now. Looking into his eyes makes you accidentally step on his dress, looking at his heels makes you distracted by the way the fabric sways to show his legs, and not looking at your partner makes you unable to dance correctly. In short, you manage to make an utter fool of yourself in a three-minute dance that's taught even to four-year-olds. In your defense, you truly believe anyone dancing with a partner like this would be in the exact same situation as you. "Hm, perhaps we should take a break by the buffet table. Would drinking some water clear your head?" You follow him and thank him when he hands you a glass of water.

He's hot, fine, whatever. But why does he need to be kind and considerate too? Does he really want everyone to fall for him?!

You know your thoughts are stupid and unfair on his part. You take another sip of your water and try to look at him again. It's okay; the three minutes of dancing have desensitized you already. Really. "Is something on my face, dear?" And your eyes are back to the glass of water.

He called me dear! What the fuck?!

"After you've finished, perhaps we can go for a stroll in the gardens? I think we'd both enjoy a quiet moment together, mein liebe."

You take a deep breath.

May whatever deity that wasn't defeated in the wars millennia ago hear your plea and give you mercy

Try Again?

[kchasm]

Ryu Number: Hrothgar

So: Those Anglo-Saxons, hella-time past— Regarding writing—made some bigguns. No question some tales've made it down. Like Beowulf (of unclear source, Unclear date, written Germanic-style; Bruiser of translators), which starts with A Danish king having a real bad time, Tormented by a monster—word gets spread, And from the Geats (a northerly-tribe; Modern-day Sweden), comes this guy To help out (That'd be Beowulf).

...Okay, I'm going to stop that now. I can't keep that up. Not that I was managing "up" in the first place—the joke just needed some passing structural resemblance to work. Actual enjoyers of Old English poetry don't hurt me please.

The story of Beowulf goes thus: The Danish king Hrothgar builds a banqueting hall, but the constant raucous partying there irritates Grendel (understandable), who is moved to nightly murder (slightly less understandable). News spreads re: the Grendel ish, and Beowulf and his company come down from southern Sweden to help out. There's a fight at the hall, which ends with Grendel down an arm and staggering off to die. This makes Grendel's mother Very Angry (understandable), and she starts killing folks herself; Beowulf then has to set out to kill her, which he does, and when he comes back Hrothgar thanks him, and then Hrothgar tells him to Be A Decent Dude, except with much, much more words.

More stuff happens after that, but that's about the last that Hrothgar shows up, so it's not important to this post.

A CGI film adaptation of Beowulf came out in 2007 which of course took Departures From The Text—but very interesting Departures, as you might expect with them being Departures co-written by tumblr's own™ Neil Gaiman. And more importantly to the dude looking for Ryu Numbers (i.e. me; possibly also you), it had a Terrible Obligatory Video Game Adaptation.

In short, Hrothgar has a Ryu Number of at most 2.

...You'd think between Beowulf and Grendel, the former would be the one assured of an official Minecraft skin first, but apparently not. (Note: Call it arbitrary, but I only count Minecraft DLC if it comes from the Champagne region of France—I mean, if it's released through the official Minecraft creator page. Otherwise, it's just sparkling user-created content.) Anyway, dude's in the Norse Mythology Mash-up.

[gakucchis]

a mephisto bar??

i wanted to make a post talking about how different obey me's mephisto and actual literatur mephisto (faust) are different, but i won’t be getting to it until mid september because i’m writing my bachelor‘s thesis :(( but in the meantime, take a look at this!!

in the first part of faust, a location mephisto visited was auerbachs keller, which is a traditional german pub in Leipzig. the pub existed in real life and still does so until today!! it’s a really popular place because of its connection to faust, which is why they have so many faust related events, drinks, etc.!

one of those things is the opening of a bar called mephisto bar!! the menu is designed with little flames, and the interior is kept red, black and pretty chic; they serve food, cocktails, cigarettes etc.! and they even have a special cake called mephistotorte (literally mephisto cake/pie) and other mephisto souvenirs. their food item names usually are devil related too!

the translation for the cocktails are as follows:

- mephisto nr. 1: vodka, peach liquor, caramel syrup & peach juice

- mephisto nr. 2: long horn gin, peach liquor, cranberry juice, orange blossom & lavender soda

- mephisto fire: aperol, gin, orange juice & sparkling wine

- mephisto special: cuba rum, aperol, passion fruit syrup, strawberry syrup & grapefruit juice

- mephisto hugo: prosecco, andalö, elderflower syrup, fresh mint, lime, soda

their website even says that visits from devils (or a certain devil) can’t be ruled out ♡

i’ve never been to leipzig but i’ve wanted to visit this bar and the pub for years now, so maybe it’s time to do it this year!! which cocktail would you get? i’d try to get them all and maybe even recreate them for my new year's party! oh, and a slice of mephisto cake too ♡

[blorbocedes]

inspired by @sionisjaune's tags and THIS nico in glasses art by the incredibly talented @movieboyfriend

Becoming a sports psychologist had been easier than Nico expected. 

All he needed was a bachelor's, which he already had, and a Masters' degree which took 18 months and submitting a paper on eating disorders to achieve. Board certification was annoying, Nico just doesn't have that kind of time, but the workaround was simply calling himself a 'performance enchancing counselor.' A corner office in Monaco, a shiny plaque with his name on it, and a star studded roster of athletes and C-list celebrities he'd hosted parties for during his influencer days for potential clientele, he was all set.

F1 hadn't been the goal but at the same time... who better than Nico, who knew exactly how motorsport could chew you out? His karting dreams were long over, but the smell of gasoline and burnt tyres and the roar of the crowd is still his forte. It just so happened Formula One decided mental health awareness was totally in style now, and one of their main sponsors held an event on mindfulness and how it can be achieved drinking more Heineken. Having a father for a World Champion is helpful, when it means one has lifetime passes, and this had been a prime networking goldmine; not for the drivers themselves and their fragile egos at the implication of psychological help -- but sliding his practice's embossed gold card in the suit jacket of one Toto Wolff.

Lewis saw therapy as something good and necessary, but ultimately for other people. And then Abu Dhabi happened. And then the W-13. And Toto had mentioned what Keke Rosberg's son was up to, how it could possibly help him out of his slump, and hearing that name after so long made Lewis' usual 'thanks but not for me' die at the tip of his tongue.

"I'm not going to imply whether all your issues stem from trying to make your father proud or ask you about your childhood. I would remember. I was there." Nico had smiled over his thin-rimmed circular glasses, with that knowing sparkle during their first unofficial session and Lewis was sold.

"As long as you don't expect me to call you 'doctor,' man. Jeez, who would've thought? Dr. Nico Rosberg."

After that, every week unless he's in LA, Lewis finds himself in Nico's chic Monaco office. It's not stuffy like a therapist's office; a turquoise wall and Nico's dad's helmet is on a shelf display, a German national Team jersey hanging on the wall, there's even a YouTube million subscribers golden plate. Lewis is sprawled on the bean bag, the sunlight from the floor to ceiling windows hitting in beams, and not for the first time Lewis has to reconcile the kid he knew has grown up into the adult in distinguished glasses and same golden blonde hair in front of him. Nico dresses like he's about to give a TedTalk, in his monochrome tee and blazer combo, and that somehow puts Lewis more at ease.

"The car's been so fucking shit. I'm not here to fight for, what, p10? That's not me. And the team..." Lewis rants, and it's so freeing to be able to call the car shit without adding in how they're improving bit by bit and other optimistic platitudes that don't mean shit in terms of the championship.

"And the team's been prioritizing Russell over you, I can see how that can be a source of frustration." Nico finishes.

"What? No. He's not -- the team's not. I'm saying, it's annoying enough the car isn't where we were promised it was gonna be, and now every week I'm getting asked if I want to retire, like what's this all for?" Lewis is momentarily taken aback by Nico's claim. Is that what people think? The team... well, George has adapted to the car easier and has been finishing above him but he hadn't felt any particular favouritism from the team... Although he's been the one running experimental setups and helping the team collect data while his teammate gets dubbed Mr. Saturday. The seed of doubt towards the team makes him frown.

"You don't want to retire. Not until the 8th." Nico points out decisively, getting up from his armchair to walk behind Lewis where his plants are.

"I don't. Even if no one believes me, apparently." Lewis rolls his eyes, hearing as Nico spritzes his plants. He could've sworn they were fake.

Lewis feels a hand on his shoulder, surprising him. "You're just going to have to prove them wrong. Like you always do." Nico smiles down at him with absolute conviction, squeezing it once, and then the weight is gone; Nico moving back to his chair.

The gesture was friendly, but it makes something flare inside Lewis. Something about Nico, maybe the fact he can open up to him the way he can't even with the team; maybe because Nico knew him before seven titles, before he was anyone, makes Lewis instinctively trust him in a way he rarely does with new people. But Nico isn't new, even if the glasses are. Lewis finds himself wanting to know more, wanting to fill the gap between the years.

"Now, let's go over your daily mindfulness affirmations..."

[lokoteibex]

At least it's more dignified than German Sparkle Party. X3

[kopifurann]

Idk how much you care about history but I just learned this

In 1806 Napoleon incorporated Liechtenstein in the Confederation of the Rhine and made it a sovereign state. At the Vienna Congress the sovereignty of Liechtenstein was approved. Liechtenstein became a member of the German Confederation in 1815. This membership confirmed Liechtenstein's sovereignty.

And now I can't help but imagine some noble school AU or something where Liechtenstein is getting kinda pushed around by other students as "not a real noble" or whatever, only to be swept off her feet by France as he tells everyone to back off and respect her as one, and she's just there thinking "oh god, why does my face so hot and heart so fast all of a sudden"

Also uh yeah any ideas on France and Liechtenstein's relationship?

SOBS THATS SO FUCKING ADORABLE also tagging @lunartexan since u have been asking for it lol

Honestly i was going to draw a small comic about that scenario but i don't have too much time as i start working so ill just add things about them!!! For me FraLiech is so cute in Cardverse but i want to add a bit of Shoujo spice in it so, ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Francis is a crown Prince of Diamond, known for being this playboy lil shit who got himself to lots of problem because, well, considering he will become a King one day, he just though his freedom to fool around would end as soon as he's crowned (alas he would just say he found things boring because being melancholic seemingly would become out of character for the image he have in the public)

But despite this 'imperfect' behaviour of his, he's still adored by the peers and girls in this royal school since he's very good being this charming playful Prince that's kind.

Though it need to be known he's not really favoured by the nobility because of his 'image' since the motto of Diamond is like, "A diamond earns its sparkle from the pressure it endures" so he do got lots of whispers, gossips and the likes despite how hard he tried to be perfect. Basically this Prince always pushed to strive more than just enough because as he's going to be a King who represents the richest, flamboyant and vain Kingdom, he better be suited to carry the burden. (So ye you get why he can be a very mischievous and a huge playboy to cope)

Liech/Elise is a low born nobility who got pushed around by the high society in school. Though the school itself implemented how once students set their foot in the premise tittle should be shed, it's honestly can only be seen as suggestion often by the high rank nobility.

So one day she were bullied by her peers at the secret garden away from people to see , however, Francis just happen to be around to take a smoke (it's not allowed in the school premise, that's why he went there because nobody really go there) and helping Elise shoo'ing em away. Francis wasn't really care about Elise problem, though he do play around that he found those ladies who's bullying her were vulgar and foolish. Elise, being young and naive ofc fall for the Prince, albeit she also aware that there's no chance for them to be together because of their status. In the end though, i don't think something significant would happen between them when they were in school (at least not something to really progress their relationship romantically because at this age Francis don't really crave a serious relationship since he was aware how messy it is to pick a girl that one day would become a Queen so he pretty much just leave it his Father's vassal). Though Francis would help her around if things happen to her (Because it's would suit his 'kind and charming' image) but Francis graduate a year later and Elise stay as she's a first year. Years later Francis crowned and marrying Joan Who also used to be his personal Knight so she's also were in school. I would like to think she and Elise would have platonic friendship for a while and it's continue once Elise reach adulthood after graduating. They would have small tea parties from time to time, though Francis not often involved when the ladies have their own time. Years later, suddenly, Joan died. Struck with heavy grief, Francis mourn by himself while ignoring everything. His vassals beg for him to came out so he can quickly find a replacement for the Queen. Francis, out of spite, picking Elise, a woman with a very low status and have not much power in her family name to be his Queen.

So yeah, if im going to do RP about these two, i would probably have these as the premise lol.

[maggie-004]

(Un-) Lucky coincidence – 11

Jenna Ortega x Fem reader

Summary: Jenna and Y/N's night of music, laughter, and cultural exploration leads to a heartwarming collaboration with Y/N's best friend, Toni. As the sun rises, their deepening connection blossoms into a passionate and tender moment, sealing the magic of their newfound love.

Warnings: Fluff

Words:2486

As we drove off, there was a subtle sense of tension in the air, perhaps lingering from the earlier paparazzi encounter. However, that tension quickly dissipated when the catchy beats of Fergie's "Glamorous" started to fill the car. Jenna couldn't help but be affected by the infectious rhythm, and in no time, she had transformed the somber atmosphere into a lively one with her impromptu performance. I couldn't hold back my laughter as I watched Jenna's playful rendition, showcasing her natural talent for entertainment. Feeling the positive energy emanating from her, I decided to join in on the fun. Together, we sang and danced along to the music, our carefree spirits intertwining like the melodies. However, Jenna's playfulness didn't stop there. She suddenly turned to me with a mischievous glint in her eyes and said, "Hey, why don't you show me something in German from Austria, like what do you listen to? I grinned at the challenge she posed, delighted that she wanted to explore my cultural background through music. I quickly scrolled through my playlist, the one for the getting ready for going out to party, when we already are drunk, everything sounds good when you’re Drunk, I personally don’t listen to much Austrian stuff, but still trying to find the perfect Austrian gem to share with her. "Alright, brace yourself," I teased, before pressing play on a song by an Andreas Gabalier, his songs always brought back fond memories of home. The upbeat folk-pop tune filled the car, its catchy chorus and cheerful melodies reflecting the spirit of my Austrian roots, we listened to “Hulapalu” I couldn’t play marching music, I can’t already lose my girlfriend because of culture shook. Jenna seemed intrigued by the foreign sounds, and as the song progressed, she couldn't help but tap her foot to the rhythm. "This is so cool! I love how music can connect us to different cultures," she remarked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. We spent the rest of the car ride exploring various Austrian songs and discussing their unique styles and influences. Jenna's enthusiasm for experiencing something new was contagious, and it brought us even closer together, bridging the gap between our different backgrounds. As the kilometers passed by, we continued to bond over music, exchanging favorite tracks from our respective countries. It was a beautiful reminder that despite the differences in our lives, music had the incredible power to unite us, transcending language and borders. By the time we reached home, the initial heaviness in the air had completely evaporated, replaced by a shared sense of joy and connection.

As Jenna headed for a quick shower, I retreated to my studio, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as I prepared for my upcoming streaming session. This would be the first time I'd be showing my face on my social media platforms, a step that felt like a significant leap of faith for my career as a DJ and content creator. Sitting in front of my computer, I took a deep breath and reminded myself of the countless hours I had spent honing my craft, perfecting my DJ sets, and building a loyal online community. But despite my confidence in my skills, there was still that nagging voice of doubt that questioned whether my audience would embrace the person behind the music. As I started putting together a new playlist for the stream, my thoughts kept drifting to Jenna, who was just a room away. Her presence had already brought a newfound sense of joy and inspiration into my life, and I couldn't help but wonder how she might react to seeing me live on camera. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice the time passing until Jenna emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around her and her hair dripping with water. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, but I quickly composed myself, trying not to show my momentary distraction. "Feeling better?" I asked, hoping to keep the conversation light while internally trying to quell my nerves about the upcoming stream. "Definitely," Jenna replied with a smile, reaching for her clothes and starting to get dressed. "Your shower is amazing, by the way, you could have told me like two or three days ago that you have an rain shower." "I'm glad you enjoyed it. By the way, if you want, you can join me later for my Twitch stream. It would be really cool to have you there." Jenna's eyes lit up with excitement, and she nodded eagerly. "I'd love that! It'll be a first for me too, watching you in action, you know first stream without mask and hoodie. You're such a talented DJ, and I can't wait to see you in your element again." Her encouraging words meant the world to me, and I felt a renewed sense of determination. With Jenna's support, I knew I could face the challenge of streaming with confidence. “OH yeah by the way if you want to you still can borrow some of my clothes, even though you have your suitcase, ok?, “Awesome thank you, I really love your clothes” she said blushing a little. She gave me peck on the lips and left my studio again. As the day progressed, we continued our separate preparations. While Jenna decided to relax and catch up on some reading, I immersed myself in the creative process, fine-tuning my playlist and setting up my streaming equipment. I even decided to incorporate some of the Austrian songs I had shared with Jenna earlier, a way of connecting my love for my heritage with my passion for music.

As the evening approached, nerves and excitement battled within me, but having Jenna by my side gave me the reassurance I needed. With a final glance at myself in the mirror, I took a deep breath and clicked the "Go Live" button on Twitch. “Hello Guys, I know, I know, I said I will never show my face but I guess never say never is still a thing. Anyways let’s get this started” The next few hours passed like a whirlwind, as I played my carefully curated tracks, interacted with my viewers, and let my passion for music shine through. Jenna was there with me, cheering me on, and her presence brought an extra layer of joy to the experience. In the end, the stream was a resounding success, and the positive feedback from my audience overwhelmed me with gratitude. It was a night I would cherish forever, not only for the milestone it represented in my career but also for the connection it strengthened with Jenna.

As we wrapped up the stream, the excitement of the evening lingered, and I couldn't wait to introduce Jenna to my best friend, Toni. With a playful grin, I asked Jenna if she'd be interested in meeting Toni and potentially recording a video together. Jenna's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she replied, "I'd really love that! I have an off day tomorrow, so we can stay up the whole night if needed. I don't mind at all; I simply love listening to the magic you two produce together." With our plans set, Jenna and I settled in front of my PC, and I dialed Toni on Discord. As the call connected, I quickly muted myself and winked at Jenna, instructing her to step out of the frame for a brief moment. The anticipation of Toni's reaction was almost too much to contain, and we both giggled like mischievous schoolgirls.

"Hellooo, how are you?" Toni's cheerful voice greeted me as her face appeared on the screen.

"Thanks, I'm really, really good," I replied with a sense of satisfaction.

“Hey I’m also really good thanks”, Jenna casually walked back into the frame and took a seat next to me.

Toni's eyes widened in utter shock and amazement. "Oh my god. You are Jenna Ortega. How did you end up at Y/N's?" she blurted out, clearly starstruck."Oh, hold on, let me guess. Somehow, she helped you with her nursing skills. I bet that's it." The playful tone in Toni’s voice infectious grin on Jenna’s face.

"You're a hundred percent right!" Jenna exclaimed, clapping her hands with excitement. "

Y/N has a way of helping everyone she meets; she's got such a big heart." Toni chuckled.

With introductions made, Jenna and Toni quickly hit it off, exchanging stories and jokes as if they were old friends catching up after years apart. I couldn't help but feel a surge of joy seeing the instant connection between two important people in my life. The idea of collaborating on a video together quickly became a reality, and we brainstormed hilarious and creative content ideas, well we ended up on doing what we always do, DJing for 45 minutes for the video, but with an little extra on the end, Jenna got supervised by me an Toni as she did 15 minutes of DJing towards the end of the video, Jenna had to make sure that her management was okay with her being in a YouTube video, they were super happy with the idea of Janna showing her interest in other stuff than acting and reading so it wasn’t a problem and Toni and I were allowed to upload it with Jenna in each video. It was is called “Jenna Ortega learns how to be an DJ?” The camaraderie and genuine laughter in that virtual room were beyond infectious, and we knew this collaboration was going to be something special. As the hours passed, the initial awkwardness of meeting a celebrity slowly melted away, and the three of us felt like a tight-knit team. Jenna shared some behind-the-scenes stories from her acting career, leaving us in awe of her talent and dedication. As the sun started to rise, we decided to call it a night, but not before exchanging heartfelt promises to meet again soon. Jenna expressed her genuine gratitude for the warm welcome she received from Toni, we assured her that she was always welcome in our little creative haven.

As the clock struck 6:40 a.m., the sky outside began to softly illuminate with the first rays of dawn. Jenna and I had been up all night, filled with excitement, laughter, and creative energy. But now, fatigue was catching up to us, and we decided it was finally time to call it a night. I told Jenna I needed a quick shower before we hit the bed, and as I stepped into the bathroom, I couldn't resist turning on some music to keep the energy alive. The sound of music filled the air, echoing through the apartment, and I imagined Jenna sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for me. As the warm water cascaded over my body, I felt a sense of rejuvenation, washing away the weariness of the night. I couldn't help but smile, realizing how incredible this day had turned out to be The steam enveloped the bathroom, creating an almost dream-like atmosphere. I took my time, savoring the last few moments of solitude before rejoining Jenna in the bedroom. The music continued to play in the background, providing a soundtrack to my thoughts.

As I stepped out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel, feeling refreshed and ready to embrace the comfort of my bed. With my heart still fluttering from the events of the night, I walked into the bedroom to find Jenna exactly where I had imagined her – sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, but her smile still radiant. "Hey, you took your time in there," Jenna said playfully, patting the spot beside her. "But I enjoyed the music you left me with." I chuckled, joining her on the bed, my damp hair sticking to the pillow. "I'm glad you did. I needed a little extra pep in my step after such an eventful night." Jenna's hand found mine, and our fingers interlocked effortlessly. "It really was an incredible night, wasn't it?" she murmured, her gaze locked on our joined hands. "I never expected to meet your best friend and collaborate on a video together." "Life has its way of surprising us," I replied, leaning my head on her shoulder. "But I'm so glad it brought us all together. You and Toni hit it off so well." "Yeah, Toni is amazing. I felt so comfortable with her, like we've known each other forever," Jenna said, a touch of gratitude in her voice. "She's got that effect on people, just like you do too" I said with a smile. "She's genuine, kind, and has a heart of gold, just like you." Jenna blushed, but her smile widened. "You both are incredible people, and I feel so lucky to have met you." The music in the background slowly faded into a soothing melody, and I felt the weight of the night's excitement finally settling on my eyelids. Jenna must have felt it too, as she gently suggested, "I think it's time to get some rest now." I nodded, snuggling closer to her, finding comfort in her presence. "Yeah, you're right. I'm exhausted, but in the best way possible.” And with that shred thought Jenna lifted up her head, with a soft smile, Jenna leaned in, and our lips met once again, igniting a fire of passion and tenderness. The music continued to play softly in the background, providing the perfect backdrop to our intimate moment. Her kiss was both passionate and pure, conveying a depth of emotion that words could never capture. It was a beautiful dance of love and desire, and I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the warm feeling of comfort and connection that spread through my body. As we finally pulled away from the kiss, I found myself nestled in Jenna's arms, my heart beating wildly in my chest. Her touch was gentle, and I felt safe and cherished in her embrace. "Good night, my love," Jenna whispered, her voice barely audible, but it resonated deeply within me. My heart skipped a beat, and I blushed at the endearment. "Good night, Jen," I replied softly, a fond smile tugging at my lips. I could see the glimmer of delight in her eyes at the nickname, and I couldn't help but feel a wave of affection for this incredible woman lying beside me. As we drifted off into a peaceful slumber, wrapped in each other's arms, I couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of contentment and happiness that enveloped me. It was as if all the stars had aligned to bring us together, and I marveled at the beauty of this unexpected connection. In the gentle embrace of the morning, our breathing synchronized, and I could feel the rise and fall of Jenna's chest against mine.

A/N: I am incredibly intrigued by the unfolding of this story; I honestly have no idea which direction it will take, as I let my thoughts flow freely onto the page. Just to let you know, English is not my first language, but I hope you still enjoy the narrative as I do my best to express the enchanting connection between Jenna and Y/N.

[marimayscarlett]

After watching several on stage birthday celebrations and seeing the champagne flutes break, I came to the conclusion that those are indeed fake flutes!

First of all, it's a hazard. People who disassemble the stage will get cut.

Second of all, if you look closely, they do not shatter but break in 2 or 3 pieces only.

Third of all, it would be a waste of money.

They're either cheap plastic flutes or the ones that are used in movies and made out of sugar (and can be smashed on someone's head).

Hi 🥂

I love that someone else also had some thoughts on this! I subconsciously wondered for a while if those were real glasses/flutes, and after a while just guessed it would be these kind of glasses you mentioned, made of plastic:

I know them from my childhood since my grandparents used them for garden parties a lot, so I as a kid wouldn't be in danger of cutting myself if someone dropped a glass, and they're just a lot more sturdy than delicate champagne flutes.

Bottom line is: They can hold champagne/Sekt (German for sparkling wine, which is more commonly used for such occasions) and that's what counts 😌🥂

[storiesbyrhi]

Angel of the First Degree - Chapter 11: Afterglow

Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader 4752 words Series Masterlist

Warnings: Anxiety; fatphobia including internalised; drug use; bullying; body issues; discussion of body function and fluids; period shame/stigma; disclosure of sexual assault (chapter 2); disordered eating and thoughts of food; shitty/abusive/critical parents; porn magazines; smut; reference to suicide (specifically Virginia Woolf’s); no beta; grief/mourning; warnings updated each chapter

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson finds you in the midst of a panic attack, it is the beginning of something. A fic featuring body and sex positivity, Eddie in a dress, soft small moments, scary big truths, and all the usual special feelings you’d expect from one of my stories.

Chapter Summary: Eddie in a dress again, end of year exams, and Eddie turns 20.

Author’s Note: Surprise, we’ve not checked out of Hawkins’ fanciest hotel yet!

The first thing you saw was pink sparkles, then the room came into focus. Eddie had put your dress on, dragged one of the oversized lounge chairs to the balcony, and lit a cigarette. He looked gorgeous against the backdrop of pre-dawn Hawkins, like the rockstar he was destined to be.

“Hi there,” he greeted when he glanced over at you and saw your wide eyes set on him.

“Hi,” you replied, hiding your face behind a pillow.

“Oh, now you’re shy?”

“No… More like, embarrassed.”

Eddie’s head cocked to the side in confusion.

“I fell asleep… That’s like, not a normal time to fall asleep, is it?”

“I mean… I think we both know I think normal is overrated,” he said, brushing down the pink dress and smiling. “Besides… It was really cute,”

“Stop,”

“Seriously. All sleepy and happy and… fucked out. Think you were gone before I could, you know, pull out,”

“Eddie,”

“Don’t be embarrassed, babe. So cute,” he teased.

Okay, you’d take the bait. You gave yourself a second, then, “Sounds like you were super into it… What’s it called when someone gets off over their sleeping girlfriend?”

Eddie cackled. “I’ll have you know,” he said, pointing at you, smoke between his fingers. “As soon as you passed out, I was out of there.”

You giggled, happy to get a rise from him.

“Somnophilia,”

“What?” you asked.

“When you want to… you know… with someone that’s asleep. It is actually a thing,”

“There’s a word for everything,”

“Oh, no, baby, there isn’t.” Eddie was using his dramatic voice, so you weren’t surprised when he flicked his cigarette over the balcony rail and walked to the bed, throwing himself next to you. “There is no word that describes how I feel about you,”

“Oh my god,” you snorted, pushing him away.

“Guess ‘I love you’ will have to do,”

“You’re ridiculous,”

“Maybe if I learn to say it in every language on earth… Nin le fíriel o mór.” The words rolled off his tongue and you kinda loved it.

“What was that?” you asked.

“Elvish… Ummm… Te amo! Ich liebe dich!”

“Spanish and… German?”

“She’s beautiful��and smart,” he praised, closing the space between you with a kiss.

It was late, 3:00 am having just gone by. You felt a little hungry, a little tired, but absolutely wired. Hawkins seemed louder than usual, and when you pulled your fluffy hotel bathrobe on and shuffled to the balcony, you could see a few parties from your high vantage point.

“Surprised they haven’t been shut down yet,” you thought out loud.

When you turned back to the bed, Eddie was laying on his side watching you. “Everyone still raging out there?”

“Looks like it. That one is Hayley’s house,”

“What about you? Is the night young? Or… we could try that spa bath… or go back to sleep?”

He was sweet like that, listing off options and ready to give you whatever you wanted. It made you want to kneel before him and give the same in return. It made you want to give him more.

“Actually, can you come back here? Sit on your… throne… for me?”

Consider Eddie curious. He bounced across the room and plonked himself down, looking up at you. You stood between his legs and asked, “Is there a word for liking a boy in a dress?”

He laughed. “That… I do not know. Probably,”

“Maybe we can find a book to tell us at the store,”

“Right. The store…”

You smiled too sweetly, then got on your knees. Eddie’s pupils blew out again, but you couldn’t enjoy the darkness of his eyes for long; as soon as your hands were under the dress, his head rolled back and eyes closed. You were good at giving head, having practiced a whole lot since Halloween. There were specific sounds Eddie made, and you wouldn’t stop until he was singing them all.

After, you sat cradled in Eddie’s arms in the spa, getting sleepy. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing your neck and running a soapy sponge all across your body.

“Love you too,” you mumbled.

“Let’s go to bed, baby.”

The hotel bed was clean and illegally comfortable. You slept naked for the first time in your life, and it made having Eddie’s body spooned against yours even better. Sleep came quickly, and it was dreamless and restful. Nothing existed save for the love in your bones and the tickle of Eddie’s hair.

…

There wasn’t much time to bask in the afterglow of the dance or the dreamy ultra-romantic way you lost your quote-unquote virginity. Finals were upon the Seniors of Hawkins High, and it didn’t matter how many times someone told you ‘they’re not the end of the world,’ you felt like they were, in fact, the end of the fucking world.

Each of your subjects had an exam, whereas Eddie escaped a full roster. He had three, and considered himself as prepared as he was going to be well before you gave up on flashcards, midnight chapters, and test quizzes.

Somehow, you navigated the weeks without really discussing college or life beyond high school. It was all cups of tea and valium and over-sharpened pencils. Eddie looked after you the best he could, and to your absolute credit – you let him. You’d learned the incredibly difficult ability to accept help. Your skill was only in its infancy, it was only Eddie (and sometimes Wayne) that could help you. Not Esther or any of the guys. Not teachers or kind strangers. Just Eddie. Baby steps.

When you walked from your final exam and into Eddie’s arms, everything felt surreal. You’d all made a pact not to celebrate until all the exams were done, so everything was in limbo until the last Friday on the timetable, when Jeff walked out of his Advanced Calc exam, throwing his pen over his shoulder.

Everyone was waiting for him in the parking lot, hanging around the open doors of Eddie’s van. Upon Jeff’s approach, you, Eddie, Esther, Gareth, and Gene cheered, making jokes at Junior Gareth’s expense and high-fiving.

It coincided with Eddie’s twentieth birthday – November 21, a Scorpio, the misunderstood babies of the zodiac. Passionate, intuitive, soulful, and equal capabilities in destruction and transformation.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Eddie called, to an answer of whoops and applause.

The Hideout let them play a special show in honor of 3/4ths of the band graduating. You sat with Esther at a front row table and played presidents of the fan club, sipping Dr Pepper and singing along.

“Alright, happy birthday, man,” Gareth announced when the set was done and the gang had co-opted a corner booth. He slid an envelope over the table to Eddie.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have,” Eddie quipped as he pulled out the card.

It meant for a second birthday, a zero written next to the two in black Sharpie, and the shamrock on the Good Luck Care Bear’s tummy had its four leaves pointed to look like that of the cannabis plant. All the boys laughed. You and Esther looked at each other. The band had signed the card and had taken the time to get Esther and the Hellfire freshmen to do the same. Dustin had even written his own little message.

“We talked for ages about what we’d get you but the bar was too fucking high since, you know,” Jeff started.

“He’s weirdly good at gift giving?” you asked.

All the guys nodded.

“So, we figured we’d just pool the resources,” he finished.

Eddie realised there was more in the envelope, looked in, and saw the small stack of cash. A bunch of tens and twenties added up to about $150.

“Guys,”

“Don’t give us any of that humble bullshit. Take it, man. Use it to fix the van properly. Buy some vinyl. Whatever. Just… take it,” Jeff urged.

“Yeah, we love you, man,” Gene added.

Gareth looked like he was going to cry.

“Well, shit,” Eddie said. “Uh… Thank you. Don’t know what I’d do without you fuckers.”

The bar staff at The Hideout slipped the table a couple of beers, but it wasn’t really fit for King Eddie. The party moved to Gareth’s garage, home of Corroded Coffin, and caroused until about 1:00 am, when Gareth’s mum appeared with a raised eyebrow but a birthday hug for Eddie.

He promised her he was okay to drive, taking you and him home. Once the heater was cranked to the highest setting and the music was on, you were lulled into a light sleep while Eddie autopiloted to Forest Hills.

Wayne was at work, but you still headed straight to the bed, stripping off and getting tangled up in bed.

“Still good to do our birthday tomorrow?” you asked.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. Don’t need you to make a fuss though.”

You hummed a non-committal sound.

…

Eddie’s arms reached out for you, sliding around on the bed sheet like a pair of unhinged snakes. He huffed to himself when he couldn’t pull you closer.

There was noise out in the kitchen. Eddie could hear your happy and Wayne’s low voice. The tell-tale smell of pancakes made its way to him, dragging him out of bed and into some sweatpants. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he appeared next to you.

“Morning family,” Eddie greeted.

“Eds,” Wayne replied.

Eddie came to spoon himself into your back, arms around your waist, and head on your shoulder.

“Birthday pancakes,” you pointed out.

“Smells good.”

You set up a breakfast picnic on the front deck, Wayne sat on the couch while you and Eddie took the inside couch’s cushions out there. 

After pancakes, fruit, and coffee, Wayne said, “Guess it’s time for some presents, huh?” He ducked inside and returned quickly. It was wrapped in brown butcher paper, and the shape and size gave away the surprise. It was definitely a record.

Blonde on Blonde by Bob Dylan.

“I know it’s not your favourite, but it was released in 1966,” Wayne said.

“Same as me,” Eddie said.

“Same as you. It’s a piece of history, that. It’s an original press, hard to come by these days. One of the first double records in rock and roll history. The musicians that played on it. The sounds they came up with. Serious, Ed, you look after that one.”

Eddie handled the record carefully, felt a sense of legend melded into the vinyl. It was a gift for a man, not a boy. A musician, not a hobbyist. It was also likely to be very expensive. A few paychecks, at least.

“Thank you,” Eddie said, meeting the waiting gaze of Wayne. “I promise to keep it safe. Pristine,”

“I know you will, son.”

It was your turn. You handed Eddie an envelope addressed to him. It was postmarked from California and had no return address.

“You know it’s illegal to open other people’s mail,” he said as he easily pulled out the letter from the neat slit you’d made in the top.

“I had to check it was… what I thought it was,” you told him cryptically.

Eddie smiled and then began to read the letter. At first, he was confused; he didn’t know what he was reading. He picked up the envelope to check for clues but it gave him nothing. Hesitating, he decided to not flip to the second page and read who signed goodbye.

The letter began,

Dear Eddie,

One hell of a girl you got there.

Highlights included,

Heard about your band – Corroded Coffin. Sick name, man. People love alliteration. Music, rock and roll especially, is such a generational thing. Each generation must have their own music, I had my own in my generation, and it sounds like you’re gonna be it for yours.

And,

Your girl says you run a Dungeons and Dragons club. Don’t know what that is, but I used to be real into History. Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t be a man of many interests. The best people are unpredictable.

And,

Growing up, I was surrounded by a large family who taught me the importance of hard work. That’s the key, man. Hard work. Put in the hours till your fingers bleed.

It concluded with,

Someday, I'll be too old to run around the stage - though that won't happen for a long while yet – hopefully I’ll see you up here before you take up the mantle.

Yours truly,

Ronnie James Dio

Eddie’s eyes were watery and his eyebrows pulled together in utter confusion. “What’s… Is this… Real?”

“Ah-huh,” you said. “There was a competition a couple months back. I saw it in one of your magazines. I cut the page out carefully so you wouldn’t notice and I entered it for you,”

“Competition?”

“Yeah. You just had to write a letter to your favourite musician, and the best ones would get a reply. And, yeah… I… won it for you.”

Eddie’s hands were shaking. The Ronnie James Dio… actual real heavy metal god, wrote him a letter. The paper he was touching had been touched by The Ronnie James Dio. The Ronnie James Dio knew his name. Knew his band name. Holy fucking shit. Eddie was stunned into silence and stillness.

You glanced up at Wayne, who was smiling ear to ear. He winked at you, a thank you for giving his nephew whatever euphoric religious experience he was going through on the trailer porch.

“What… What did you say to him?” Eddie asked, not looking away from the letter.

“Um… Well, I was gonna write about how you’re his number one fan and about the band and how much you practice guitar and all of that. But I figured everyone would do that. So I wrote about why you deserved a letter from him,” you answered, a small shrug to indicate you were finished.

Eddie looked up at you, still in a bit of a daze. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do I deserve… this?”

You looked at him and felt a warm kind of sadness. “Eddie… You took me in. And, you know… all the other stuff you’ve done for me. Then there’s Hellfire and-”

“I don’t know if running a D&D club makes me worthy of-”

“No, don’t. Don’t do that thing you do where you make it seem like everything you do is pointless and dumb. Hellfire is important. You put all this work into it, and you save little freshmen from loneliness and bullies. The band is important. You perform every show like it’s a world tour. It’s all important, Eddie. You’re important. And that’s why you won.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say. He looked at his uncle, and Wayne offered a small nod. “She’s onto something,” he said, accent thick and voice gruff despite all the love in it.

“Babe… I… This is the coolest thing that’s ever fucking happened to me… To anyone… in Hawkins…”

You smiled. You had pretty much predicted Eddie would be overwhelmed, maybe freak out some. It wasn’t like you needed a specific reaction; you knew the gift was god tier. The most important thing was he understand why his story won him the letter.

“Happy birthday,” you said.

Eddie looked at you, his expression melting into one of pure unadulterated love. After carefully folding the letter and putting it back in the envelope, he leaned across the pancakes and fruit to kiss you. Soft. Sweet.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

You nodded.

The three of you sat in comfortable silence for a while longer. You ate the rest of the sliced banana and tried to coax one of the trailer park cats to come over for a pat. Wayne made himself another cup of coffee before returning to his spot, smoking a cigarette. Eddie swapped between re-reading the letter and finding names he recognised in the list of Bob Dylan’s session musicians.

“So, what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” Wayne asked when you all moved inside, collecting dishes and piling them in the sink to worry about later.

“No set plans, as per Eddie’s request,” you told him. “Maybe we’ll go for a drive?” 

“Alright. Well, stay out of trouble,”

“Where’re you heading to?” Eddie asked, watching his uncle pull on his jacket and pick up the keys from the ugly woven trinket dish Eddie made when he was seven.

“Told John I’d help fix up the old treehouse in his yard.”

Wayne clocked the looks on both your and Eddie’s faces. He sighed.

“Do you old men need help doing that?” Eddie asked.

“Funny. He just wants it perfect for-”

“The kids,” you and Eddie finished simultaneously. The saga of divorced John was never-ending.

“Be safe,” Eddie said.

“Will do.”

As soon as Wayne was gone, Eddie grabbed you and dragged you to the bedroom. Laughing the whole time, you pretended to try to get away, screeching and nipping at his hands around your waist.

A few insanely short hours later, Eddie asked, “Can we just stay in bed all day?” as he lay on his side, head perched on his hand. It had already been the best birthday morning he’d ever had. He didn’t need to venture into the outside world at all, it only risked ruin.

“Um… I can do… all morning,” you countered.

“Guess that will have to do… What’s in the afternoon?”

“I put in an order at the diner to pick up for lunch. Thought we could to that place behind the drive-in?”

Eddie looked at you for a second, then nodded.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing,”

“You’re doing that look,”

“What look?”

You tried to pull the same expression as him, resulting in him crowing with laughter.

“I’ve never made that face in my life!” Eddie claimed.

“You do it all the time!”

Eddie snorted. “Whatever. You make this face all the time.” And he pulled the ugliest face he could think of.

“Nooooooo! You’re confuuuuuuused. That’s you! And this is you too.” Another stupid expression.

Squeals and giggles and pulling each other close.

Eddie ran his nose along yours, arms tight around your body. “You’re beautiful. I’m in love with your face.”

You kissed him. “I’m in love with yours. You’re stupidly pretty,”

“You’re intelligently pretty.”

More giggling. Kissing. Love.

…

After a harmless argument about not taking Eddie’s money, he waited in the van while you went in to pay and collect lunch.

“That allowance savings account must be running pretty dry,” he commented when you returned, putting the paper bag of food safely between your feet in the footwell. The milkshakes went into cup holders.

Honestly, he was right. You’d been smart throughout your teen years, saving most of your money from babysitting and the allowance your parents used to pay you. Sometimes you’d splurge on clothes or makeup, but most of the cash went straight into your account. The plan was to use it to get out of Hawkins. A nest egg for college.

Since you’d been kicked out of home, you had burned through most of it. It felt bad to let Eddie and Wayne pay your way – they were already doing too much. Down to your last couple hundred dollars, you’d get through Christmas but be broke by the new year.

“Stop worrying about me,” you said to Eddie.

“You got some sort of side business I don’t know about?”

“Maybe. Let’s go,”

“We working to a deadline?”

You shrugged it off and busied yourself with the radio. Eddie pulled out onto the road, heading in the direction of the drive-in. When your gaze continued to find its way to the dashboard clock, Eddie got suspicious.

He kept his mouth shut until he saw Jeff’s car parked at the spot people jumped the fence to head to the secret little place.

“Alright, what the fuck is this?”

Esther, Jeff, and Gareth got out of the car and waved. You were out of the van before Eddie could ask again.

“Hey!” you greeted, hugging Esther.

“Looks like you’ll catch some alright weather. Might rain tonight though,” Jeff said.

“It’s okay, we’ll probably go home before dark. Thanks guys,”

“All good. Have fun,” he replied, and they started to pile back in.

“Wait! What’s happening?” Eddie tried again.

His friends just smiled, shrugged, and he watched them pull a U-turn and disappear down the road. Eddie turned to you. The genuine confusion on his face was kind of cute, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

“I’ll get the food,” you offered, rather than any sort of explanation.

The closer you and Eddie got to the spot, the more obvious what the Hellfire gang were doing there became.

One of the shitty small generators Corroded Coffin sometimes used to power amps was helping to illuminate the space via strings of fairy lights. It was actually a comical amount of them, haphazardly strung from trees and all through the car carcasses. A mix tape was in the boombox, and a picnic blanket was set up carefully. It was clear that part was Esther’s doing.

“Well, isn’t this romantic,” Eddie joked, trying to deflect from feeling the feelings.

You took a seat on the blanket and got the burgers and fries out. Eddie sat opposite you and handed you your milkshake. He smiled to himself, the memory of the last time he was there floating into his mind.

Eddie watched you go through your usual burger routine – open it, assess the pickle situation, be subsequently pleased or dismayed, add a few fries to the mix, and press the top back on. You glanced up at him as you took your first bite.

“What?” you asked, mouth full of food. If the old you could see you then, she’d not believe you to be the same person.

“Uh… yeah, no, nothing… I mean… Aren’t you meant to be like, surrrrrrrrprrrriiiiiseeee,”

“You said lowkey,”

“I did. I did. That’s true,” he agreed.

“I have one more surprise gift,”

“No,”

“It’s like, a joke gift. Kind of. I made it. Don’t worry,” you replied maybe too quickly.

Sensing the shift in your tone, Eddie said, “I’m not worried. Are you worried?”

“What? No. Don’t do that,”

“Do what?”

“Jedi brain tricks,” you told him with a pout he thought was too cute.

“Mind. Mind tricks,”

“Whatever. Here. Shut up.” You fished a small booklet from your bag and handed it to Eddie. You’d made it out of paper and staples, a menu of sorts.

“Holy fucking shit,”

“Do you remember?”

“Remember the sex menu joke? Yeah. Yes, I do. I thought about making this so many times but… I don’t know… Chickened out,” he marveled, open-mouthed, flipping through the pages. He was pretty close to blushing. “I’m gonna need you to read this out loud to me,”

“Absolutely not,”

“I always read to you!”

“Yeah, The Lord of the fucking Rings isn’t the same as… that…”

“As what?” Eddie asked, smirking. “As what, baby? As… page three… face sitting?”

“Stop!” you squealed, covering your face with your hands.

“Oh, this page recommends having a towel close by,”

“Eddie. I’ll take it back,”

“Nope. You can’t,” he yelped, jumping up before you could grab the booklet from his hands. “This is mine forever now,”

“You can’t tell anyone,”

“Ah-huh,”

“Eddie! Promise me!” you yelled, picking up a fry and throwing it at him.

He dodged it easily, sending you a dramatic shocked expression. “I promise. I don’t tell anyone about that kind of shit.” Eddie was sincere and really, you knew he’d never, but you needed to hear it anyway. He returned to the picnic blanket and began to eat. Halfway through his burger, Eddie turned to the boombox. Tupelo Honey. You watched him smile and get a little starry-eyed, his eating slowing down. He picked at his fries.

“Haven’t even dipped them in your milkshake. You okay?” you asked him.

Eddie grinned and nodded. “You made a mix tape too?”

You shrugged. “S’not an Eddie Munson birthday with the perfect soundtrack, right?”

He went quiet again, watched you finish your fries, and carefully put all the rubbish in a bag you brought for that purpose. Eddie used to flick his cigarette butts to the ground wherever he was, but when you started to pick them up, telling him that birds and squirrels deserved better, he stopped. Despite everything, you were so full of love and empathy for the world, and it was one of the many reasons he was obsessed with you.

Eddie stretched his legs out and laid back on the blanket. You crawled over and cuddled up to his side. He wrapped an arm around you, his fingers dancing up and down your arm. For a while, you stayed like that, listening to the music and the wind rustling the leaves of the tree. When the afternoon grew cooler, you collected the fluffy blanket hidden in one of the cars.

“That’s gotta be an Esther detail,” Eddie noted.

“You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Gareth’s. He loves flannel and velvet,” you theorised.

“Drummers are tactile people. You could be right.”

Down the hill, cars were lining up at the drive-in. The lights went on before the sun had even begun to set.

“This was good,” Eddie whispered as the screen announced Top Gun would play in T-minus thirty minutes. It was time to visit the candy bar for popcorn and Cherry Coke.

“You saw Top Gun?”

Eddie laughed. “No. God, no. Something real… off about Tom Cruise. I mean, this. Here. Perfect way to spend an afternoon.”

You snuggled into him and nodded. “But I do have to apologise for something,” you said, looking up at Eddie. He rolled his head to look back at you. “When we first started to hang out, before I knew you, I… um, made some assumptions about you,”

“Assumptions?”

“Yeah. Just like… those dumb one second thoughts that pop in your head then go, you know? But it kind of… haunts me… that I’d ever think them?”

“Angel, everyone thinks stupid dumb shit. Wayne says they don’t make you a bad person. Not unless you, you know, act on them or whatever,” Eddie told you, his free hand moving through the air like it was following the invisible noise waves.

“Still… can I just say sorry for them anyway?”

“You want to hurt my poor little feelings just to say sorry?”

You thought about it. He had a point. Really, you wanted to apologise to make yourself feel better. Exercise the demons, so to speak. Eddie could see you think it through.

“Come on. Put me out of my misery,” he said.

“What?”

“You know I’m the dead cat. I wanna know these assumptions.” He sat up and turned to face you better. “Hit me with your best shot.”

You laughed and took a breath. “Alright. Well, for a second I thought you gave me the valium to get me hooked.” Eddie laughed. Hard. “I told you they were stupid,”

“No, this is great. Keep going,”

“...I remember being surprised that your teeth are nice,”

“Oh, ouch. Did you think I was hitting the crystal pipe or something?” Eddie was beyond amused.

“My dad said drug dealers are all druggies, so…”

Eddie laughed again. “You’ve been sitting on this all year? Thinking you’re a terrible person because my teeth aren’t fucked up?”

“Eddieeeee,”

“I’m sorry, baby, but it’s pretty funny. Most the town thinks I worship the devil and they still consider themselves godly, and you-”

“Yeah, okay, I get it. I’m just saying, I’m sorry. I’m a better person now. And, like, you’ve made me a better person,”

“You’re not better. Just… more you,” Eddie told you. He wasn't wrong.

“Yeah, I guess so. It feels like I know who I am a bit more. Those parts of me are… the good parts,”

“If I were a shrink, I’d say something about all this good person/bad person shit,”

“But you’re not. You’re my boyfriend and it’s your birthday and I love you.”

Eddie smiled softly, content and sure. Sure of himself, his place with you, and maybe even his place in the world. As the two of you packed up to leave before the sun set and it grew cold, collecting the blankets and mix tape, Eddie repressed the sliver of doubt in his mind that asked, how can this last?

Next Chapter: Villains

End Note: $150 in 1986 is about $400 now. Inflation, baby.

Also, Ronnie’s letter is pieced together from actual quotes. It made it a bit more clunky, but I’ll take a bit of clunk in exchange for authenticity any day.

Fic Taglist: @ajeff855 @b-barnes04 @eddie-munson-is-a-sweetheart @nerd-squad-headquarters @word-wytch @harrys-tittie @munsonsmel0dy @sidthedollface2 @eddiethesexy @bardicfrustration @orpheusredux @munsonsgirl71 (did you ask to be on the taglist or did I imagine that) @a-time-for-wolvess @eddieswifu @rosaline-black @thegirlwhohides @emotionaldreamer @e0509 @briasnow-blog @kiyastrf94 @erinsingalong @rainylana @thescarletangelsstuff (won't let me tag you) @mrsdollardog

Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @lacrymosa-24

[kishona]

HARDCORE. GERMAN. SPARKLE. PARTY.

with the one and only @letssendacountrysomecupcakes :3

[edwinspaynes]

RIP Matthew Fairchild you would have loved German Sparkle Party