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[fox-guardian]

[ID: A nine-page digital comic featuring Jimmy and Curly from Mouthwashing. They're out of uniform, wearing casual clothes. The comic is done in sepia tones, with the only colors being the blue of Curly's eyes and the green of Jimmy's speech bubbles. There are also four featureless people representing their other friends.

The group of friends are gathered while Jimmy sits away from them.

Friend 1: He doesn't like sweets.... Friend 2: So what should we do for a cake then? Jimmy, attempting to light a cigarette: Why don't we just make it out of his fuckin' whey protein powder? You know Curly just LOVES that chalky crap. Friends pause, staring at him, before getting excited: (all caps) That's a great idea, Jimmy!

Jimmy then chokes on his cigarette and looks around at them all, momentarily shocked.

Friends: That's so smart! It'll be SO funny! He'll LOVE that! Jimmy, holding his limp cigarette and smiling smugly: heheh. guess I am pretty clever.

There is then a montage of him baking the cake with the whey powder, including him absently dropping cigarette ash into the batter with an "oops". Then they all wait in the dark, party decorations up with a shadow cast under the room's door.

Friends: Shh!! He's coming! Jimmy: (all caps) Shut the fuck up!! Curly, opening the door: Hullo? Friends: SURPRISE!

Curly flinches and yelps before he takes in the scene and smiles. Jimmy is holding the warped cake and smiling and everyone is wearing party hats and laughing.

Friends: Happy birthday Curly!

Two of them go up to Curly, putting a hat on him and patting his back.

Friend: Hope you like the cake!

Curly goes to cut the cake with everyone watching. He is smiling, while Jimmy stands next to him, staring blankly. As soon as the knife hits, the cake collapses in a poof of powder with a long fart noise. Curly's eyes bulge and Jimmy's eyes widen before they both burst out laughing, Curly pushing the cake away as he leans over the table, wheezing, while Jimmy throws his head back to cackle.

Curly, looking up at him: (all caps) What kind of cake is this?! Jimmy, holding up an "ok" hand: Choco-caramel whey, budd-o.

Curly wheezes, tears in his eyes. He then passes out cake and speaks indistinctly before sitting down.

Curly, smiling at Jimmy: -- sounds pretty brilliant, yeah?

Jimmy looks at him sideways, anticipating, as Curly raises his fork to his mouth. He keeps leaning closer as a shadow forms over his face. Curly takes a bite, smiling. Pauses for a moment. And then releases a huge cloud of whey powder, at which Jimmy starts cackling again.

end ID]

~~~~

every time i think about that cursed whey powder cake from curly's fondest memories, i just imagine a re-enactment of the cinnamon challenge but with whey protein powder.

so here's a NINE PAGE COMIC leading up to that <3

[caffichai]

More art for Coldshot's Called Shot by my friend @fishing-lesbian-catgirl! If you like spicy content, go give it a read!

The final piece, at least for now! Somehow I did these in reverse chronological order, but I guess it worked out in the end

Hey, if you're here, check this out!

[skittlesking]

Have a drawing I stayed up to make to express some feelings I've been having

[runningupthatvecna]

get the peach(es)

bestfriend!eddie munson x reader

it's the day after chrissy got vecna'd and you and the gang decide to check up on eddie at rick's. he's still in so much distress that you can't help but selflessly stay with your best friend (who you've been harboring a crush on for quite some time) and keep him company. 6k words, not proofread.

cw: the good old friends to lovers trope, eddie is an anxious bean who just needs to be held (by you, ideally), mutual (and not so secret at all) pining, i wrote this with fem!reader in mind (she/her pronouns) but can also be read as gn i guess, fluff, hurt/comfort (for eddie), pet names, mentions of chrissy's death, there shall be kisses and a lot of softness. nothing too explicit but minors are still advised to LEAVE

a/n: totally not self indulgent, that scene of him being so terrified in 4x02 ripped me to shreds so this is my fix-it attempt, trying to still my need to hold him and scratch his head. disclaimer: this piece of writing is based on the ending of that episode, meaning all credits for the setting go to the respective writers. sources to the header images here, here and here. lovely divider by saradika. ok thank you so much for reading byeeee love y'all <3

–––––

The overwhelming need to befriend the satanic metalhead found you at that party at the Wheeler house. You had almost said no to Nancy when she invited you, knowing damn well how the night would end. Steve passed out with a girl on his lap, Robin silently pining after Vickie from some corner of the room while clinging onto the red plastic cup in her hand, Jonathan getting higher than a kite with his old school mates, the younger kids asking you every five minutes if you could give them a ride since you usually were the one staying sober.

Additionally this time, there would be Eddie Munson. This familiar stranger Dustin, Mike and Lucas had met and somehow befriended over the last months, due to them joining his DnD club. "He might come off as a bit intimidating ... but I promise he's super chill and easy going!", Mike had tried to convince his sister, poking the tip of her shoulder repeatedly with a bunch of pleases during lunch break in the editing room of the school's newspaper. Until she rolled her eyes theatrically and agreed to let the ambiguous stranger, which the whole town collectively perceived as not really fitting in (and who you both certainly knew under the not so chill reputation he carried around), attend the celebratory events at Casa Wheeler. Occasion: Karen, Ted and their youngest leaving the house for more than one day, off on vacation.

You'd always kinda stayed out of his ways, used to observe his antics back at school with a silent laugh and this .. intrigue poking at your guts. To you he always stood out, and if anyone asked you'd be hesitant to admit it, but his willingness to go against the flow and not conform to the acceptable standards set by society was honestly impressive. And besides, surely this whole mysterious drug dealer rockstar image must just be a fassade and deep down he's just a dork, right?

His eyes follow you through the living room, an echo of your name crossing his mind repeatedly after having pulled Dustin into a corner for a brief interrogation. He finds it endearing how quickly and almost bashfully you look away every time your curious gaze meets his. As you redirect your focus to the conversation you're becoming engaged in, there's a soft smile creeping onto your lips. Little did he know it would soon start to haunt him in his dreams at night.

"Anything specific you're looking for?"

God, his voice. The close proximity invites your nose to inhale a mix of fresh cigarette smoke, bergamot and sandalwood, allowing you to sense what can only be him standing behind you as you skim through the cabinets of the Wheeler kitchen. You turn your head for your eyes to confirm your assumption and what they find is the deepest brown of round baby cow eyes they've ever met, up so much closer now. The paring of his gaze and plush smile somehow manages to dissolve every little prejudice you've been involuntarily harboring about him. Eddie Munson, the town's freak. Prime reason for the existence of the satanic panic. Drugs. And then you realise that you should probably do the polite thing and give him an answer. "Yeah uh, I was just trying to find the peach syrup", holding his gaze with a small lopsided smile, lost in its warmth which you wouldn't have dared to expect from it, before facing away from him again. He snorts a little, "peach syrup?", pauses to bring a thumb to his upper lip, lightly scratching the skin above as if to wipe something away, before he removes it again and the dimples appear around the corners of his mouth, "that is oddly specific." His response spreads a smile over your face, and the next thing he says widens it, "looks like you have taste though."

You move one step to the side, about to investigate the insides of the next cabinet, the kitchen itself almost empty of people with only three others chatting away in the corner across the island. He follows, undoubtedly trying to stay close, and the heat from the fire he just ignited somewhere inside of you rises to your cheeks. "Thanks, I really like peaches. Especially in my drinks. It adds a little ... kick to my sobriety", you explain, Eddie now quirks an amused eyebrow paired with a lopsided smile at you, and as you get to the last cabinet it dawns on you (and also Eddie) that this household severely lacks peach syrup. An atrocity. Thanks Ted.

After he helped you rummage through the entirety of the kitchen without success but under a lot of small talk, the metalhead vanishes from the function for an hour or so. At least that's what your brain concludes when your vision fails to spot him among the people who are in attendance. Maybe he's selling out of Nancy's bedroom. Maybe he's puking up his insides in the bathroom because he had too much of that weird beer he's been downing all night. Maybe he's banging some random girl in the bathroom upstairs. Or summoning a demon. Or both. At the same time. You once again try focusing your attention back to the conversation you are involved in. Munson already feels so dear to you that the lack of his presence is starting to form an ache in your heart. It's tugging on those strings with how much you already want him near you. Yeah. You're gonna be in trouble with this one.

And then he stumbles into the room from the direction of the front door, an event you're totally unable (and unwilling) to miss. He doesn't look like he just puked, nor sold a whole lot of the stash since you notice it still bulging out the left ass pocket of his black jeans. Instead, as he pushes past the small groups of people socialising – and towards you – while you notice a red net of round fruits dangling from his right hand, and you start to think that his disheveled hair and that rosy tint on his cheeks might actually not be from shagging either. He meets your gaze again as he approaches you with a grin and your heart dares to swell at his attentive gesture (you think you might as well pass away on the spot).

"Have some, peach."

It's not syrup, but you'll take them anyway. And with your next drink, you swallow down not only that peachy sweetness on your tongue, but also whatever this tingly feeling in your chest is.

"Chchhrhch.."

Pause.

"Hey, uh– chrhchhr.."

Silence in your bedroom, the only thing illuminating the space is the moonlight softly falling through the window.

"Chrch– a-are you there?"

You stirr awake from dozing off in your bed, trying to piece together the information your senses are giving you.

Eyes gone dry, you have to blink a few times. Figure out which year it is and so on.

Confusion lies between the static crackle for a moment. That nap after your shift at the diner was necessary. God, you need to fucking quit.

"No I'm sure she'll pick right up, just– hey pleeease b-be awake, goddamn it!–"

Is it already past midnight?

You don't know and you can't tell, the clock on your nightstand still broken. What you do know though is that the familiar voice belongs to your friend Dustin and it's desperately trying to get ahold of you.

They must have found him.

"Dustin? I copy, where are you? What's going on?", you finally grab the device from the nightstand, fully awake and aware of your surroundings now.

You need to know. If he's okay.

There's that all too familiar instant tingle in your chest again, an ache that made itself familiar to you for the first time when he was introduced to you at the one and only Wheeler party several months ago. The dungeon master of Hawkins High's Hellfire club, the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin and a super chill and easy going guy, to put it in Mike Wheeler's words.

What you didn't expect back then was your heart starting to develop that feeling, that tingle you'd always get to feel when you were in his presence, or like now, when his name is threatening to spill from your friend's lips on the other side of the connection at any moment.

"Aha! See? I told you she'd respond in no time."

You can practically feel Dustin's shit eating grin through the frequency, basking in being correct over Steve Harrington once again. It never gets old between these two.

"Oh my god", Steve's muffled voice is what you can make out vaguely from the off, he's probably palming his face.

"Dustin!", your voice disappears into the device, and your impatience grows with every passing second, hoping he gets the hint.

There's the sound of a door falling shut, leaves rustling under shoes, he must be outside now.

"Alright, okay yeah, so we found him at Rick's and he's really upset and he's been asking for you. I know it's late but can you meet us out here? And maybe, uh, stay with him?"

It's not even worth questioning. You're already wearing shoes. Your biggest hoodie in tow, you stumble into your kitchen with the intention to raid your own snack drawer. Pulling out Eddie's favourite, which you of course had stocked up on ever since hanging out with him at your place had become more of a weekly routine for the both of you.

Ten minutes, you told him. You'd be there in ten.

The drive feels like forever. The longest ten minutes of your life, you think.

You know the route like the back of your hand, having driven along the gravelly road leading from the last intersection before Hawkins' border to the outer world, to the serene woods surrounding Lover's Lake countless times. Eddie would take you here ever so often, for picnics, an occasional smoke after picking up a new delivery from Rick's, cloud or star gazing, listening to Metallica and Tears for Fears on Wayne's old walkman.

The gravel crunches underneath your white reeboks as they land on the ground. You close the door to your car as quietly as possible after you've taken out the bag and your hoodie.

Dustin and Steve are stood outside the boathouse, waving like madmen in the darkness once you come into their periphery.

The younger boy hugs you tightly.

"So glad you could make it", he gets out, the relief palpable through his voice as well as the grip he holds you in for a brief moment.

You look at them both after Steve presses you against him cordially, and breathe out through your nose, making your nostrils flare.

Dustin cracks open the case to you as he starts to ramble about the state in which they found your best friend, "well first he attacked Steve with a broken bottle, we had to put in great effort to convince him that we'd be on his side, and we came to the conclusion that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, basically."

What you want right now goes without saying. Everyone here knows how close you and Eddie are. As friends, of course. No one would think anything different.

Without wasting another second, the boys lead you inside where Max and Robin are knelt on the wooden floor. Heads turning towards the entrance of the room where you're now standing.

The sight of what's offered to your eyes, sitting opposite of them, breaks your heart.

You can see that he's slightly shivering, eyes glassy in the dim lit room. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips though once his brain grasps your presence, and he can't help anymore but let the water fall once his eyes lock with yours.

The pain that is swimming in those two deep warm brown oceans hits you like a dagger to the chest. Over the months of being friends with him you'd seen him various different states, none of them comparable to this.

"Peach", his shaky voice announces your arrival and the sound of your nickname spilling from his lips cracks through your bones. The bag that's slung around your shoulder drops onto the wood with a dull thud.

Wobbly legs carry him towards you with a gentle shove past Robin and Max. You're once again reminded of your best friend's sheer physical strength as he wraps his arms around you, instantly burying his face into the crook of your neck.

One arm of your own sneaks around his torso, pressing him against you as tightly as your own strength allows you, while your other hand comes up to bury itself underneath the mane and to end up scratching soothingly over the scalp above the nape of his neck.

Eddie lets out a muffled sob, sniffling into the collar of the sweatshirt you threw on in a haste. He doesn't really want anyone to see him like this, certainly not Steve Harrington, so he clutches onto you so tightly that he thinks you might just feel his heavy heart beating anxiously against your chest.

And you do. How could you not with the amount of world he means to you? Like an automatism your other hand rubs slow circles over his back. Comforting him in the best way you could. Not a conscious decision you make.

"Okay so, m'not meaning to ruin the party, in fact I'd love to stay for another round of doom talk, but I really should get home soon, guys", Robin scratches the back of her head after she gets up from her huddled position next to the wooden crate Eddie had been sitting on. Max joins in and agrees, mumbling something about having to move her mom from being passed out on the couch again into her bed.

"Yeah me too, actually. My dad's gonna be fucking pissed. We'll see you tomorrow, yeah?", Steve's voice echoes through the room and you can tell he's already shoved Dustin back outside, itching to drive the kid home.

As Eddie processes having to stay in hiding, added the possibility of everyone leaving without him, his grip on you tightens even more.

"It's okay, Eds", you speak softly, head slightly tilted so your cheek rests on the dark frizzy mop you could call his hair. The skin on his neck and scalp so warm underneath your fingertips as you keep scratching it, emphasizing your presence, "I'll stay."

A soft muffled whimper is what you get as a response, and the way he lets you see him in this state melts your insides to a puddle.

You just need him to be okay.

They wave their goodbyes behind your back, accompanied by mumbles of "see you in the morning", and you can't even bring yourself to turn your head around, fully focused on making the young man in your arms less terrified of the world. A world he was sure was now going to come for him with all its force – in deep conviction of him being responsible for Chrissy's misfortunate end.

The door falls shut and Eddie muffles a quiet thank you into the fabric of your sweatshirt. The skin on your neck is damp with his tears, wet eyelashes tickling every time he blinks.

"It's okay, Eds", you softly keep repeating your words to him while continuously rubbing over the denim of his signature Dio vest in a slow motion, when he feels the urgency to claim the truth into the collar of your sweater about what has happened, "I– I didn't do it, I swear."

As if you would need any convincing.

"Oh no of course you didn't, I know that", you're looking for a way to ease the distress this entire situation is causing him, his quivering voice adding to your desire to soothe him to inner peace, "can I make a suggestion?"

Eddie nods with another sniffle against your collarbone, the round wet tip of his nose brushing against the column of your throat lightly. To his ears, your voice sounds like silk right about now.

"How about we head over to the main house and get ourselves a little more comfortable? Since we're gonna be here for a little longer? My god you probably haven't slept or eaten at all, have you?"

You can feel him nod his head again with a hum this time, and you start to think that the tears might not just be pouring because he just witnessed someone suffer a gruesome death right in front of him, but also due to physical exhaustion.

It makes your heart ache even more, that tingle still present, even more so now. It hurts to see your best friend hurt.

He just needs to be okay. And in that heart of yours there's that little spark of hope that leads you to believe you could be the one helping him with that.

You'd really want that. Be all his to find comfort in, to hold close, to kiss stupid

Stop.

A sigh escapes your lungs at the thought. That tingle, that longing, it's selfish. It familiarly pools in your belly and slowly drips downwards. You push your brain aside. This is about soothing your best friend now.

"C'mon then", you utter softly, encouraging him with your hand to lift his head from where it leans against your shoulder.

For your heart it's almost too much to look at, the hurt still swimming in the glassy big brown irises, his waterline red and puffy. The soft smile returning to his lips causes the wet apples of his cheeks to push up slightly, reflecting the dim light coming from the one torch Robin left you, placed on one of the crates.

He really hadn't been able to close an eye for a single second since he he'd gotten up for school the day prior.

You smile back at him almost bashfully as you slowly create space between your bodies.

Eddie is grateful that it's you who grabs his ringed hand next.

He squeezes yours, hoping to get the message of this meaning something to him across.

And he closely trails behind you as you lead the way.

The house feels empty, like no one's really been here in months. You'd never been inside. The few times you'd accompanied Eddie grabbing stash you'd stayed in his van, waiting. But as far as you now can make out in the darkness, there's a couch with knitted blankets, a little TV with a whole stack of VHS almost rising as high as the screen itself, spilled and spluttered empty cans and papers and wrappings littered all around. Maybe this is why he never let you come inside with him. Keeping you out of this definitely not sterile mess. Along with keeping you out of the business.

In the middle of the living room, you let go of his hand and shuffle one step away from him. He's inside now. Safe. Job done. Doesn't need physical contact. You shouldn't, he's your friend. You feel like something between you would break if you'd go there.

Eddie thinks otherwise, regarding close proximity at least. He promptly follows you into what you believe to be the kitchen where you hope you might find a tea bag or two. He comes up behind you and encases you in his arms as you rummage through the cabinets (feels familiar, hm?), not at all ready to say goodbye to the warmth of your body pressed against his own just yet.

You giggle at the silliness of him putting weight on you just to make it harder for you to reach into the cabinets. It's endearing. And very Eddie.

Twenty minutes later and there's two mugs – cleaned to your best ability – with steaming hot liquid on the sixties wooden coffee table. Next to them a plate filled with the almost equally hot insides of a ravioli in tomato sauce can. Thank Rick for a still functioning microwave.

You drape the knitted blankets over both you and Eddie as you settle into the cushions. The only light existent coming from two lit candles on said coffee table. It wouldn't be too wise setting up the torch you think.

The side of Eddie's face glows in the orange yellow, his wide brown bambi eyes dried after the first grand storm, and there's this tug on the corner of his pink plush lips again. He exchanged his leather jacket for the freshly washed hoodie for comfort and a small part of you hopes he doesn't spill his dinner onto any of it.

You lean back into the backrest of the worn out couch and watch as he eats, a domestic thing you've done a thousand times already, yet you still find comfort in knowing that he's nourishing himself.

Or well, in this case, inhaling the raviolis.

"Thank you Peach", he moves to put the empty plate back on the coffee table and it makes the spoon chink and glide along the edge, "I really needed this."

His voice is a little hoarse, probably from the emotions of the hours behind him. Maybe he has indeed calmed down a little. His hand moves down to your thigh, squeezing.

You give him the most empathetic smile you can bring yourself to display, painfully aware of the blaze that is transpiring through your leggings and seeping into your bones, "it's no big deal, really. I mean it is– uh, being there for you, is."

And he can't bring himself to look up at you. Instead, he stares at the empty plate on that coffee table in front of him.

"And to me as well. It really helps that you're here."

He doesn't bother moving the calloused warmth of his hand from the soft warmth of your thigh. It lights your entire nervous system on fire. In a good way.

And that's when you begin to wonder if everything that has just happened and is still happening right now changes anything.

"I'm so glad it does", is all you're able to get out.

Eddie decides that it's time to lean into your side and wrap his arms around your torso once again, drop his head back to its favourite place with a soft content little hum.

He just needs physical comfort. Of course. Just that. Nothing more, nothing else.

The words are redundant but your mouth articulates them anyway, "try to get some sleep, yeah?"

His back already lifts and falls evenly. You place your hand on the back of his head that rests in the crook of your neck again, scratching through the curls lightly, searching to help him shut off even deeper.

–––––

The candles have gone out by the time your eyelids slowly open. It takes you a moment to recall the location you fell asleep in, and you hope that the nightly darkness the whole room is now filled with hasn't invited any stranger to take advantage of your unconsciousness.

There's a warm hand holding your face, the pad of a thumb tracing over the apple of your cheek softly. It makes its way from the bridge of your nose to the outer corner of your eye, and back. And forth. And back. And forth.

You must have moved to lie down on your back in your sleep, with Eddie's weight still on your body, legs entangled. It's not the first time you've slept like this, there had been movie nights that had ended similarly.

His hand caressing your cheek though, yeah that is new. There's something unspoken in the air this time around. Your stomach is doing flip flops when you realise that he is propped up on his elbow, just .. looking at you. With eyes that don't require light to hint at whatever it is he is trying to say, or maybe not trying at all.

"Eds, what are you doing?", you ask almost in a whisper followed by a lopsided smile, expecting an unserious answer, because he always tends to make a joke whenever he tries to avoid conversing about emotions regarding his heart.

His thumb stops its acrobatics on your cheek, comes to a halt.

"I'm–", he takes a deep breath before he continues, "I'm just so grateful it's you that's here right now."

Your hand comes up to cup his. Brush over his rough knuckles with a thumb of your own. Enjoying the warmth that is seeping from his palm into your skin.

"Yeah, I figured you were gonna be a little opposed to spending the night with Harrington", you laugh, an attempt to turn your nerves into humour.

Eddie snorts a little, "yeah right, it's almost like you know me", he grins and pushes himself even closer to your face than he already is. It doesn't necessarily help in extinguishing the fire that's consuming you whole at this point.

"It's almost like we're best friends and I know what you think of him because every time Dustin or literally anyone else mentions his name around you, you're not necessarily secretive about it."

"Hey, my own worldview is not my fault, it's just– ... he just kinda seems like a douche of the highest order."

"He's quite alright, Eds. Try giving him a chance, I think he'd look great as Coffin's tambourinist."

He snorts again and you feel his breath on the column of your neck next when he dips his head down, nose pressing against the soft skin, his small giggle being swallowed by the collar of your sweatshirt.

Your favourite sound. Ever. Followed by the relieved moan Eddie lets out at the way your other hand is softly rubbing over his shoulder blade. The vibration against your neck makes you twitch as much as being pinned into the couch cushions by his body allows you.

It's soothing as much for you as it is for him.

When he lifts his head, the soft gaze he eyes you with is enough to let the goosebumps erupt. Even in the darkness of the room you can still make out those round buttons that could melt the entire north pole.

"Thank you, Peach, really. I'd be goin' mental right now and probably tryin' to counter that by smoking an equally mental amount of the stash I've been hiding here."

Your heart aches.

"I'm just glad I can be that kind of comfort to you, Eds. You don't have to go through whatever the fuck this is alone."

"I know I'm never gonna be alone as long as you are there."

You almost cry yourself now, his words making your hand travel from his own to his cheek, almost passing out from the way his eyes bore into your own once again.

Eddie isn't sure what it is that is making him feel lightheaded right now. The whole rollercoaster of events of the past hours. Or your words of affirmation. Or mayhaps it is your cute soft hand with that little ring on your thumb which is gently swiping over his damp skin.

That cute soft hand he'd been imagining countless times at night, silently yearning for your eyes to look at him differently, to finally see him in a different light the next time you'd hang out.

Probably a combination of just everything.

You reciprocate his soft half-lidded gaze, hand moving from his cheek to tuck some of his hair behind his left ear, revealing that delicate silver hoop earring you'd gifted to him for his birthday, after having talked your ear off about getting his ear pierced for literal months.

He'd insisted you join him for the appointment, "another metal moment for the books", as Eddie had called it, the need to have his hand held during the stab comically urgent in the way his voice sounded when he called you that day. And in the pace in which he picked you up.

"I'm here no matter what", you respond to his sentiment, that hand that brushed his hair away resting on the side of his neck while leaning the weight of your head into his palm that is still attached to your cheek.

Eddie's confidence reaches a new all time high with the admission of your unconditional support being stirred into the cocktail of hormones and emotions that's been circulating in his bloodstream for a generous amount of time now.

Because then he goes on by saying impossible things.

Impossible things with a slightly less platonic undertone.

"You're so fucking sweet, has anyone ever told you?"

You smile as you shake your head, heat rising to your cheeks once again and you're sure he won't be able to see just how flustered he's getting you (joke's on you he does).

You're also sure he's out of his mind for saying that. Now.

"A shame, honestly. You should scold your best friend for not telling you sooner. Tell him what a fucking idiot he is."

Eddie earns another giggle from you. Music to his ears. Better than Metallica. Okay maybe not but .. pretty fucking close.

"I'll let him know next time I see him", you say with a grin, playing along with pleasure, and you ask yourself why it is only now that you realise just how fucking close his face is to yours.

There is a moment of silence in which Eddie hesitates articulating whatever is seemingly bugging his mind.

"Do you, uh, still like him?"

If you lifted your head just a little your noses would be touching. A silly and utmost redundant question, and yet, Eddie dreads your answer. If the circumstances were different, less dystopian and tragic, you'd seriously wonder what would spark the doubt in your friendship in him, but considering that everyone else would be going to pour their judgement over him, you understand.

Every word exchanged between the two of you at this hour is soaked in mutual infatuation, something the idiots in both of you are slowly starting to fathom as well.

"Of course I do, he's everything to me."

As you say it, you can't help the grin which reappears reliably each time you finish verbalizing your thoughts. It's contagious, you notice.

"And do you think – just hypothetically of course", it's only then he breaks eye contact to clear his throat, "of course", you interrupt him still smiling and cocking an eyebrow at him, "d'ya think it would be okay for this best friend to, uh, maybe...", Eddie pauses, internally watching the ship containing his confidence set sail slowly and ultimately letting the irrational thoughts win for tonight, "would you let him..."

Eddie generally wasn't someone who lacked confidence. It showed in the way he boisterously wandered the halls of Hawkins High, the way his demeanor never changed, his mask never faltered no matter who was around. Except for you. You who he had always granted a look underneath the impulsive, extroverted surface.

"Eds", you try everything in your power to stay calm even though everything inside of you is screaming right now and you're certain you can feel your pulse in your earlobes.

"Would it be just insane of that best friend to kiss you right now?"

You want to squeal and kick your feet, pull him into your face, pinch your own forearm, pass away, leave the house and never return, and stay right where you are forever, buried underneath your favourite metalhead, the parts where your bodies are touching practically on fire, cosy and content.

Instead, the most fond smile spreads over your lips as you try to contain your internal overwhelm.

It's still dark, the only light source being the full moon outside. Eddie's so hopeful of your reciprocation and even more terrified of ruining his entire life at the same time, those deep doe eyes at this point pretty much resemble the shape of the space rock orbiting earth. Rejection from you, his pretty Peach and the Bonnie to his Clyde, would be unbearable.

"I think so," you almost whisper, the hand that's been rubbing over Eddie's back coming up to lightly trace one of his eyebrows with your index finger because you just can't seem to not touch him in some way, "but you should know that I love his insanity."

Your small giggle is being silenced by a soft and cautious kiss from Eddie Munson. Like he doesn't want to break you. Or he's afraid you'll snap out of a haze, slap him and leave if he starts kissing you like he really wants to.

And then it's you who goes for it, you feel at home, right where you belong, you don't think you've ever felt this good. The hand on his jaw tugs him closer softly, pressing your lips to his with a bit more urgency.

It gives him all the confirmation he could possibly need.

That tingle, it grows and fills up your chest and shoots through your entire being, goosebumps and all. Eddie moans and breathes against your lips, tongue dancing over the thin skin, asking for permission.

His ringed hand digs deeper and slowly moves to the nape of your neck, intending to hold you in place, afraid you could slip away from him if he didn't. This blossoming thing between you could slip away from him. If he didn't.

It's so soft, the way his lips touch yours, and before you know it they move to your cheek, to your jaw, down your neck before Eddie comes up again, smiling from ear to ear, to gently bump his nose against the tip of yours and his lips return home with a soft and deep hum escaping from his lungs into your mouth.

Relief floods his veins along with whatever it is you're doing to him. The ability to shut out the insanity of the past hours is what he so desperately wants to cling to for as long as you allow him, even if the dawn will remind him of the horrid reality he's involuntarily become subject to live through now.

"You're making things so much better, Peach, you're so sweet, so fucking cute, so fucking good for me, do you even know for how long I've been dreaming of this?"

Eddie greedily pulls your face into his again, not even giving you a chance to reply and not nearly getting enough of your affection it seems with how fervently his tongue searches for yours.

A gentle collision of skin.

The soft whimpers you let out only spur him on. You not backing away from him, staying with him, letting him be this close to you?

You, the only constant source of consolation Eddie's ever really had.

Life changing.

Soft touches follow soft touches, your thumb traces his jaw repeatedly.

"You don't–", kiss, "for how long–", kiss, "I've been dreaming–", kiss, "of you as well", you breathe against him and Eddie thinks he might be about to resort to sniffling into your collar again with the amount of relief he is experiencing.

You'd let him.

"Yeah?", he presses his nose into your cheek with his eyes closed, smiling from ear to ear, relaxing his entire body into yours as you let him slide inbetween your legs.

"Yeah, you know how much of a sucker I am for peaches", you grin, another peck to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, your hips slowly finding a rhythm against his own.

Eddie groans at your allusion with a wide grin on his face (and the feeling of your warmth against his dick), before pressing his lips against yours again lovingly, "me too baby, me too."

–––

taglist (thought you might be interested): @josephfakingquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @analogkraken, @wroteclassicaly, @songforeddiemunson, @joejoequinnquinn, @somnambulic-thing, @trashmouth-richie, @eddddiemunson, @ceriseheaven, @userchai

comments, reblogs and other forms of affection towards the author are greatly appreciated thank youuuuu <3

[tsarjozinzbazin]

some silly things I've made, featuring: Pilk getting blown away by the wind on deck <333

im making my own dress up game in my drawing program fuck this shit

[14dayswithyou]

💖 EVEN MORE DAY 4 SNEAK PEEKS! 💖

[royalarmyofoz]

WANDAVISION 1.08

[2aceofspades]

♠️ We're back in business! ♠️

Due to my current schedule, I am able to keep my commissions open for the time being. And...I am adding some new stuffs as well 🤗

Dm me if you are interested or have any questions!

:)

[cherry-bomb-ships]

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE ASK GAME

Send in a emoji/prompt listed below and the user will create an AU based on the prompt. 🩷

These prompts are meant to be somewhat vague, so the way they can be interpreted is entirely up to the user's imagination! 🩷

These can be used as art prompts, writing prompts, or just for headcanons. Also, while these were initially made for self shipping, they can be used for ocs or ships in general. 🩷

Please practice reblog karma if reblogging. 🩷

This will be updated as I think of more! If you have any suggestions let me know. Last update: 07/19/24 🩷

Proship & proship-neutral, please do not interact.

SWAPS

🚻 - Body Swap AU

➕️ - Fusion AU

🔄 - Personality Swap AU

⏏️ - Reverse Selfship AU

🔏 - Role Swap AU

FANTASY

🤖 - Android AU

😈 - Demon AU

🧍‍♀️- Giant/Tiny AU

👻 - Ghost AU

🌟 - Magical Girl AU

🧜‍♀️ - Mermaid AU

🦸‍♂️ - Superhero/Supervillain AU

🧛‍♀️ - Vampire AU

🐺 - Werewolf AU

🪄 - Witch/Wizard AU

HISTORICAL

🤠 - Cowboy/Western AU

🪮 - Greaser AU

💰 - Mafia AU

🏰 - Medieval AU

🏴‍☠️ - Pirate AU

👑 - Royalty AU

🎩 - Victorian AU

SLICE OF LIFE

🎤 - Band AU

☕️ - Coffee Shop AU

📒 - College AU

💼 - Coworkers AU

📱 - Modern Day AU

EXISTING MEDIA

🍄 - Alice in Wonderland AU

💫 - Disney Movie AU

🐲 - Dungeons and Dragons AU (or similar fantasy media)

🔩 - Frankenstein AU

🦄 - My Little Pony AU

⚡️ - Pokemon AU

💞 - Romantic Comedy AU

🔪 - Slasher AU

TROPES

👰‍♂ - Arranged Marraige AU

🌱 - Childhood Friends AU

💐 - Fake Dating AU

🐶 - Furry AU (or Humanized AU)

🥀 - Hanahaki AU

🏆 - Rivals AU

🪢 - Soulmate AU (String of Fate, Matching Birthmarks, Same Dreams, etc)

🧟‍♂️ - Zombie Apocalypse AU

[lyxchen]

Okay so I said I was drawing a sangihun kiss and that I would hopefully finish and post it tonight. Well I didn't finish it and I also got distracted and started drawing another sangihun thing and I love the sketch so much that as an apology y'all are getting that now. But hey, I said I was gonna post a sangihun kiss tonight and technically I kinda did <3

Anyways, here it is:

Also the legs and feet at the bottom left are part of what I originally wanted to finish tonight :>

[veinsfullofstars]

🍭 Kirbtober 2024 Day 31: Darkness 🍭

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Kirby - dressed as a mummy - happily dashing by and carrying Gooey - wearing a purple, star-striped witch hat - on his head, each holding an Invincible Candy and leaving a sparkly trail of other treats in their wake. END ID.)

Happy Halloween!

Previous Day | Compilation | Prompt List (made by @/paintpanic)

Started on 10/20/24, finished on 10/21/24. | Kirbtober 2023 Comp

[endlessviolet]

Cherry Wine

Astarion x GN!Reader

Warnings: Brief mention of blood/hunting, shameless flirting and a smidge of fluff

WC: 500+

A/N: Continuing the trend of naming my Astarion fics after Hozier songs because the combination is ✨chef's kiss✨ As always I try to keep reader gender neutral but as I haven't proofread this one particularly well please let me know if there's any slip ups!

You enter the firelit camp after your evening bathe in the nearby river, glad to have washed away the intense grime of the bog you'd been traversing for the last few days. You cast your gaze over to where Astarion lounges against a log, wine bottle in hand, his crimson eyes already fixed on you with a mischievous glint.

"Well, well, well," he purrs, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "If it isn't my favorite person in this whole wretched world."

You roll your eyes, failing in your attempt to hide your smile from the handsome vampire. "Spare me your flattery, Astarion. I might just faint from the shock."

He chuckles, his fingers idly tracing patterns in the dirt. "Oh darling, your heart can surely handle a few well-placed compliments from time to time."

You settle down beside him, your shoulder brushing against his. "And what makes you so certain that I'm not immune to your charms?"

Astarion leans in closer, his lips just a breath away from your ear. "Because, my dear, I've seen the way your cheeks flush whenever I grace you with my presence."

You fight back a laugh, shaking your head. "You're impossible, you know that?"

He grins, his gaze smoldering as it meets yours. "Ah, but you love every bit of it."

You feign exasperation, throwing up your hands in mock defeat. "Fine, you win. I'm utterly captivated by your snark. Happy now?"

Astarion's laughter is low and melodic, "Delighted, actually."

As the night wears on, the camp grows quiet, your companions settling down in their tents, undoubtedly exhausted from what felt like endless days of battling amidst that miserable bog. Astarion however stays firmly planted by your side, silver hair seemingly glowing in the moonlight as he stares up towards the stars.

"You know," his tone soft, "despite my 'snark' as you so eloquently put it, I really do quite enjoy our time together."

Your heart skips a beat as his playful façade gives way to a vulnerability that takes you by surprise. "I know." your voice equally gentle.

He leans slowly towards you, gaze meeting yours once more, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "And if I were to do something that's shockingly out of character, would you be too surprised to stop me?"

Your breath hitches as his fingers brush against your jaw. "I guess we'll just have to find out."

And with that, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss fueled by weeks of teasing and flirtatious banter, of stolen glances and lingering touches.

Astarion's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens, his fingers tangling in your hair. You can taste the coppery tang of whichever creature he hunted earlier mingled with the cherry wine he's been leisurely sipping on all evening, a mixture you find unexpectedly intoxicating.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both pull away, breathless and dazed. Astarion's confident smirk fades into a genuine smile, his inquisitive eyes searching yours.

"Surprised?" he asks, his voice a low whisper.

You grin, all too aware that Astarion's keen hearing must be picking up the way your heart pounds in your chest. "Very."

He leans in to press another kiss to your lips, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your back. "Well, my dear, prepare to be surprised more often."

A/N: Welcome to another episode of Violet doesn't know how to end her fics 😌 Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated as always 💕

[vseahn]

[thelonelyshore-if]

Jay Drabble

Or, Jay wakes up next to MC for the first time.

The first time Jay saw you, they had no idea that they'd love you. 

Ravi had a feeling. That's all he would tell them about why they were walking alongside the lake when a storm was clearly about to break. That deep into October, night had already fallen despite the early hour. Jay had their flashlight out, scanning the beach for the source of the feeling.

The water was a cold, dark unknown. Empty of promise or reason for concern. Kristy Edwards was still missing at that point, and Jay was half hopeful that Ravi might be leading them towards her. They were focused on the beach itself, looking more for a body than anything else. 

“Oh,” Ravi had said, looking out at the lake. 

Jay turned, a sinking feeling in their gut as they found what they'd been looking for. A body, bobbing in the water like a dead fish. Limp. Motionless.

Not Kristy, though. Not anyone.

They ran in without thinking. For someone so cautious with their personal life, Jay sure had a knack for rushing into danger. 

The first time Jay saw you, you were drenched in lake water, your pajamas clinging to your skin and your eyes shut. The first time they kissed you, it was to push air into your lungs, their hands pumping rhythmically at the still heart in your chest. 

Now it's six in the morning and they've kissed you again. Kissed you and more, spent a night with you that still has their heart pounding.

Jay lays awake in their bed. One arm is tucked behind their head, propping them up enough that they can look at you curled up on their chest. The other is pinned between your torso and a satin pillowcase. Pins and needles stab at the trapped limb, and they're trying to figure out how to escape without ruining the moment. 

The problem is that they're so damn comfortable, other than the dead weight of their arm. You lay with your head buried in the curve of their neck. They can feel the steady rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your skin. 

You're here. You're alive. You're beautiful.

Dim light shines in from the hallway. Last night you stayed up talking for hours. You sat shoulder to shoulder on their old red sofa, discussing anything and everything. Leaning closer and closer as the night went on. Knees bumping, hands brushing together. Talking turned to kissing turned to…

Well. 

Jay smiles. They can’t help it–a giddy, excited, teenager-who-just-had-their-first-kiss sort of smile.

You both were distracted enough that it's no surprise they forgot to turn off the light. Other than the dim golden glow streaming in from the hall, Jay's bedroom is dark. It's late enough in the year that the sun won't come up for hours, and they'll take the darkness for as long as they can get it. 

This feels like a dream, a moment wrapped in the magic of waking up with you in their arms for the very first time. 

Well. Waking up with you on their arm. An arm that is, quite frankly, killing them. 

Jay doesn't want to break the spell, but their arm is starting to feel like the static that builds up on the surface of their TV.

They stretch out their fingers and grimace when the motion sends sparks shooting straight up to their shoulder. They scoot back in bed, slowly managing to wriggle their arm out from under your neck. 

They pull free, shake out their fingers. Blood rushes back into their hand and it stings, but nothing like it was before. They watch you, fondness and amusement mingling as your face briefly twists into a mask of annoyance. You crack open a single eye, looking up at them.

“Jay…?” you squint into the darkness, words sluggish with sleep.

“Morning,” they say softly.

Jay’s heart melts when your groggy expression fades into a sleepy smile. You roll over until you’ve propped yourself up on your side. You swoop down, peppering their ribs with clumsy kisses.

“Hey–!” their voice cracks into laughter. It tickles, and they shift away from you, but you’ve wrapped your arm around their waist. They’re trapped, and they’re elated, and this is the best morning of their entire life.

“You woke me up,” you accuse.

“I couldn’t feel my arm,” they grin, “You were crushing it.”

You open your mouth to protest and they can't resist leaning in and catching your lips with theirs. They pour all of their giddiness and joy and relief into the kiss, hoping that you can feel the warmth blooming inside them. You receive it eagerly. They wrap an arm around your waist, pull you in close. 

The kiss lasts for seconds. It lasts for hours. Jay loses themself in the heat of your lips. They feel dizzy with affection, and their heart feels like it's going to burst. 

Finally it ends and you break apart, but they keep holding you. You both shift position until you're resting your head on their chest and their arm is curled around you. It'll probably fall asleep again, but they can't resist the intoxicating feeling of you at their side. 

“Wow,” they breathe, staring up at the ceiling.

You laugh, your breath tickling their skin. 

“Was it that good?” you tease. 

Yes, they want to say, but that's not all. They're marveling because they never could have expected this. They pulled you out of the lake, took pride in having helped find you. In keeping you safe 

But it wasn't until now that Jay truly understood just how lucky they were to save your life. 

“Stay for breakfast?” they say instead, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Sure,” you hum.

Jay smiles and closes their eyes. You both fall into a comfortable, drowsy silence. Hopefully you'll stick around and you can spend your day together, but for now this is all they need. 

This is perfect. 

[dragonroar64]

hey do y'all think pvp evbo doesn't really think of himself as a person anymore. do y'all think he's rationalized this to himself by thinking that surely no one would kill a person dozens if not hundreds of times, so that must make him something that isn't a person. do you think he has to be reminded that actually he is a person and what happened to him on the iron sword level was fucked up and wrong

how long do you think this took for other people to realize. who do you think figured it out first. I think it would be so fun(read:horrible and angsty) if it were the guard friend(who I'll call Raymond for convenience). Like Evbo falls off the ladder in his house or something and takes the trip back down as an excuse to talk to Raymond and somehow Raymond goes "yeah, well, I don't really like people" and Evbo goes "oh well I'm not a person so that's fine lol". like he would not take this seriously he'd just joke about it and only realize how horrible a thought that is after Raymond establishes that it's really fucked up

bonus points for if Raymond has to get the diamond swords to back him up in order for Evbo to believe that maybe this isn't the healthiest thing to be thinking :)

[luckyartdrawer]

Burning Celestials Ch 2: Fall For Me

2nd Chapter has released, Yippieee! Feel free to read on ao3 or look below the break to read!

Click here for AO3 Link!

Check out the 1st Chapter first!!!

Summary: You were gone, but not really. Somewhere new. Besides the suddenness, you weren't caught too off guard. Moon wasn't either, well, until he actually looked at you that is. 2815 words

When you appeared, he almost completely missed you.

You didn't make a dent in the space around you, a mere speck who should have gone unnoticed and declared unimportant as you arrived. You did absolutely nothing but just show up.

Moon was originally just going on his usual, boring, but necessary, mindless wandering. It's not as if he noticed all the pointed stares you earned, popping out of nowhere, it was more like he noticed the lack of glares being trained on him.

He had half the mind to keep moving, but it was rather unusual for a planet and their orbitals to not actively avoid his presence.

Moon couldn't help but cast a curious glance in the same direction as the spectators, finding himself looking down at the winding roads below. There, beyond the labyrinth of one way trails, compacted dust and rock contained in golden silks of light, was the main attraction. Moon was high above, but even then he could still spot the reason why you had such a captive audience.

You were a being who contained antimatter. Poor thing, frozen to the spot, surrounded by judging eyes.

Moon could've chuckled at your unfortunate fate, if he himself was not living the same story. You just had to be someone with a magnetic pull worthy of rivaling a planet’s. A being not aligned in this cursed place’s straight and narrow hierarchy.

Moon waited as he watched the murmurings dwindle and scatter rapidly, the drifters succumbing to your pull before greedy planets or other moons dramatically pulled them away. The golden roads quickly cleared; the audience plummeting from many to one.

Looks like no one was in the mood to deal with you right away.

Moon had his fill of entertainment for the day, fine with leaving the encounter as this; just a mere glance. Yet, once he made that glance at you, no longer observing how the others observed you, he found something that made it hard to turn away.

You seemed to believe you were now alone, staring at the expanse around you, slowly twirling to take it all in. Your foot snagged on the uneven ground and you fell, your yelp failed to reach him through the thick vacuum of space.

You were nothing impressive… But your confusing emotional state was hard to miss.

What's wrong with you?

He got a little closer, jumping down to a road slightly below the trail he was on. Your figure was somewhat easier to decipher now, what with the void of your body matching the black of the surroundings making it difficult. It's easier to define some of your edges the closer he gets, the colorful dust surrounding your body much more noticeable.

He thought you were a black hole, but perhaps not…

You pushed at the rocks, sifted through the dust, and plucked at the glowing strings that hold the roads together. He couldn't read your emotions from so far, but anyone sane would be able to notice when someone is enchanted by the ground.

How could you be so preoccupied with something like that, especially after what just happened?

So, like any reasonable being, he wanted to know why.

Moon crouched at the path’s edge, coaxing the loose light hanging to the rest of its mass to pull and expand into his hand. He layered it over his shoulder, looping it until he believed he had a long enough spool of light to force a stop.

Then, with a jump, he descended, grasping the end with one hand and guiding the slack with the other as he free-fell.

His world spun, the pieces of his body juddered and grinded together, new crumbs speckling the dark half of his face and body, the murky essence keeping him whole. The feeling of floating completely, being swallowed by the inky black of space even for a moment…

It's so easy to get lost in it.

If he were to just let go…

Unfortunately he remembered to shake the euphoric feeling away; he couldn't allow it while on this little escapade. The easy glide through space led him so close to you, but with a simple twist of his leg and foot around the leftover slack, he stopped upside-down just a couple of feet above you. 

Your pull was there, but only noticeable within this close radius. At least, for him that is... That odd detail by itself already planted a seed within his mind.

He's never felt a pull like this before…

Moon watched silently as you fiddled with the light, hearing your quiet awes at how it bends and allows your hand to push through with enough force. When you raised yourself back to standing however, he decided to finally announce himself.

His voice surprised you so bad that you stumbled back to the ground, twisting onto your back to look up at him.

How unperceptive. It's… cute.

Moon could practically feel the tension radiating off of you, but he focused on his inspection of you as you collected yourself. He's heard of beings appearing from nowhere, but this is the first time he's seen someone who has.

You certainly fit the part…

Besides your unusual coverings, the biggest thing he took note of was your eyes… They're a blindingly bright white, somehow not swallowed by the void of your body.

It confused Moon greatly; the Black holes that brought him to existence had no facial features at all. They were all but swallowed whole once they became the cold creatures they were doomed to be, or so the story goes. Even the antimatter that keeps himself together threatens to swallow his 2nd eye.

Yet here you are without even a single vortex, stardust hovering around you with controlled ease. How are you calmly defying the unstoppable?

He wanted to unravel these mysteries that are suddenly piling up. Questions that he would usually never care for start to form in his mind, all directed at you.

After you relaxed in his presence and struck up a hesitant introduction, you desperately took his offer to travel with you when he acknowledged your lost expression. As he uncoiled and released himself from the golden rope, you caught him off guard with how quick you aimed to seek out answers to every little thing, starting with his now abandoned shortcut.

Seems both of you wanted to unravel the other.

Moon wasn't unreceptive to your lines of questioning, despite how new this kind of interaction is to him, rather, he was oddly charmed by them.

They were such simple queries, grounded in reality.

There were no untold rules or distrust of his presence. It was as if you didn't even feel the radius of his magnetism, easily wandering close and far from him as you wandered together.

Perhaps your pull was just simply stronger than his?

Yet, that same pull, as much as it coaxes him in, is gentle. Open. An invite rather than a demand.

It's not the commandeering gravity of the planets or the black holes, dragging all who cannot resist their orbit as part of their entourage. The cold war between those with such intense pulls is mind numbing. One claiming that it is their birthright to rule, while the other simply exists, unable to help themselves from eventually consuming those they ensnare, bit by bit.

Yet here you are, nothing like them. You don't demand anything from him. You don't cast him out for not clinging to you like how he “should” be.

To you, he's more than just a Moon, but probably no more than anyone else.

Moon would much rather prefer if all pulls felt like yours. He hoped his own enticed you just as much, if to just keep you from eventually drifting too far away.

You rapidly became a new comfort.

Watching him with wide doe eyes.

Falling in step, side by side.

To say it was intoxicating would be a little on the nose.

He taught you about so many things as the cycles passed; made more reasons for you to drift closer.

He rambled about the expanse beyond that none can touch. Moon would tell you all the fables and constellations of every system he's ever seen, if you'd just ask. He'd point out the colors that occasionally blend in the universe, explaining their meanings in mythos; it's something so enchanting that he cannot help but stand and watch from time to time, an explosion of dust and color shining through a dark, star-filled void.

It's beautiful, but unreachable.

You made the rather astute observation that the view looked like you...

Exactly, so don't leave.

Don't drift away or become untouchable.

Be his piece of the sky.

He emphasized how the roads never end and are always shifting in the loose expanse of space. Not built by the celestials but rather as if weaved by reality for their very way of life. The theories and beliefs of some other worldly beings never cease to prickle at his mind. These strange roads of fate wind around gigantic planets, becoming paths that allow celestials to reside wherever they'd like on each one, while others find comfort in reaching a star and carving out their own home within.

Despite how encouraging the winding paths are for wandering celestials, Moon chose to never keep a home. The moment he stupidly told you, you immediately set out to make him one.

He couldn’t risk getting caught, let alone having you do such a thing for him. He told you as such; the black holes will find him, the planets will chase him away, yet you debated with him over it repeatedly.

The pesky insistent attitude annoyed him with how much emotion that welled up within him.

Longing.

Hope.

Fear.

Craving.

Desolation.

Excitement.

He could have shot you down, left, and kept safe, even after you found an, admittedly , lovely vacant star to occupy. But… He wouldn't willingly pull away that far.

He loves how you cling to him, even during an argument. He'd save unsaid counterpoints just so he could start the bickering again when feeling particularly needy. Addicted to your touch.

What may have finally convinced him to stay was when you pouted, saying you'll just live there without him.

And oh… when he realized you intended to stay with him.

The flutter in the dark matter that keeps him whole made him pang. Burn in a million different ways. Pine to hold you. Beg to absorb you.

You wanted to stay with him . Live with him.

Not that random you'd frivolously talk about when explaining your past.

Part of Moon ever regrets asking, jealous of the tone shift of your voice becoming more animated and lively when you started to talk about another man. The way he’d taught you things before Moon ever had the chance of meeting you. The kiss you shared before you suddenly departed from him…

He usually tried his best to constantly keep that character out of his mind, wanting to be blissfully ignorant. He wanted to live in his fantasy where the universe was just you and him.

But now…

Did he finally get you to stop seeing that man in every little thing you saw?

Oh, please… Please let it be true.

You're too alluring to ignore the feelings in his chest anymore. He's been hooked on you the moment he saw you.

It's so hard to pretend that he doesn't want to pull you in. Mesh together until one is the other. Take him fully and wholly.

He wants to revel in you.

Stop chasing someone else light-years away when he's right here…

He couldn't just tell you, no no no, not when you could still be enamored with that memory. So he showed it in small ways. Enough to quell his bleeding heart into a sore ache. Begging for you to see his signs.

Let him entice you.

Come to him, follow his pull, like he does with yours.

He'd let you hang off his arm when you needed some reprieve from the constant walking, he feels stronger than the universe when you ask to be carried.

He'd hold you close from behind and tuck his head into your shoulder whenever either of you was emotional or introspective, disguising his selfish cravings as a physical comfort. Though, it's not much of a disguise if you were to see his wandering, clouded eyes.

He'd comfortably stand with you, regardless of where or why, and look into your eyes. Your acknowledgement or returned gaze was not necessary, you seem to have grown used to it and continue on with whatever work you carved out for today. Just seeing you from up close, being allowed to speak, allowed to touch, allowed to admire; it's enough to keep his twitching, itching, scratching desires at bay. 

He'd woven a staircase of light from the golden path and connected it to your shared home, large but dazzling railings encasing his creation to ensure you'd never fall into the void below.

He'd never let you fall without him.

So fall for him, please.

Crash into him so hard that he breaks from the inside out.

He's always been so fragile, but you are the only one allowed to shatter him.

Moon feels such desire constantly. Each smile thrown his way, all the appreciative shows of thanks, and every shiver from you in his arms makes him hope more and more.

You fulfill every craving.

He can't part from you, refuses to, so give him anything and everything you're willing to.

Please.

Shatter him completely.

He couldn't wait anymore unfortunately.

You never took the plunge, at least not openly. Now he couldn't let you come to him, not at a time like this.

The black holes finally tracked him down. The planets were furious at their arrival. You both were surrounded by each party; the all encompassing and possessive beings that hungered for something to fill their empty voids, and the prideful and spiteful monarchs that won't allow a single one of their charges or harems to be taken from them, regardless of the feelings of their lessers.

The black holes wanted to keep building upon him, the only being they so far able to create rather than destroy. Something they could feed off of for all eternity.

The Planets wanted him and you gone, a looming hidden threat to their ever growing rule, believing that you'd both side with the destruction of the black holes.

Cornered from both sides, home invaded and crushed into stardust, Moon did the only thing he could do.

And you'd fall with him.

Yanking you by the collar into his chest, he leaped past the ledge.

The twine of light he held in his other hand was the only tether between the two of you and land. He held you close and spun, allowing the string to tie you two tightly together.

Even in this situation, the uncertainty of it all, his heart is soaring.

You're so close, reliant on him. Your terrified screams as you hide your face into his chest only proves it. He's elated, euphoric even, to be here with you. The light you emit shines as brighter than anything he's ever seen.

If he closes his eyes and relaxes his body, he could even feel like he's one with the void.

One with you. The two of you are just masses of antimatter, dust, and light.

What a wonderful dream…

Your screams stop and his tight hold becomes suddenly loose.

His eyes open and with an enchanted sigh he becomes breathless.

His tether is gone.

The golden roads are so far away.

You are not in his arms.

Tears flood out of his good eye as you've done exactly what he dreaded.

You drifted away. You became one with the sky. You became untouchable.

Without him.

But oh, look at you… You're everywhere, flooding his vision with black and white, speckles of colored gas and dust gently floating in the void. You're right where you belong.

He couldn't stay mad at you for that. All he can hope is that soon enough he will be one with the sky too.

Together you'd be the greatest mythos to grace the universe. Even if he'd be the only one to believe in it.

Tingles dance upon his back as he allows his vision to blur.

If he focuses enough, it still feels like you're there.

Holding him. In his arms. Feeling the warmth and coolness of your bodies mingling together.

He dreams of his lips dancing across the crook of your neck like he was always tempted to do.

Trailing along the path he'd measure daily in his mind.

He dreams of your lips meeting his.

A gift from the divine, a taste of the untouchable.

Then finally, he dreams of black.