#it will turn into fluff i swear

[rainychaoloveshack]

May I request Shadow or mobian!reader in a time loop. One of them is stuck, the other is blissfully unaware and won’t remember every time it’s reset. You can pick who is stuck! They are Asking for help and then the other giving a sudden smooch? Maybe more… than a smooch? Little heated if you so desire. They’re not yet together, or aware of the other persons feelings until that little kiss. After the loop is fixed, it’s awkward cause the one that was stuck in the loop knows. Like what’s the aftermath shsosnszk

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝. 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

you’ll love shadow even after every reset possible. no matter what.

⋆°•☁︎ content . shadow x gn!reader, angst to light fluff, friends to lovers, slight suggestive material warning. light mention of not eating/drinking for days, implied depression.

☂︎ wc. 1.6k ☂︎ a/n. i loved this request sm. like this one just spoke to my angsty soul. might be the longest thing here yet; sorry its too long ^^’ srry this took a while! i was flip flopping on who i wanted to be stuck ^^’

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!! (i like chatting to you guys!)

Two hundred and thirty-six days. That's how many times you’ve watched the clock strike twelve exactly on Saturday, signaling to you the day had started over again. Never to watch the next day pass. Forced to live everyday like its a new one, yet still subject to HIS charming nature, even if he’s so stubborn in the way he shows his affection towards you.

You try your best to switch up the routines as you go nowadays, trying to excite your life, yet nothing ever works. The clock strikes twelve as it always does. At this point, it’s become numb; infuriatingly so. Some days you’ll gain that motivation back to try something different, whether it be surrounding yourself with new people to serve as a distraction, or trying to dig deeper into the cause of your time loop, to no avail. And other days you rot inside your room, staring at the clock on the wall, watching it tick. And tick. And tick, until it hits twelve again.

Some days you’ll forget to eat and drink, sometimes on purpose, first finding comfort in that pitting feeling in your stomach, finally feeling something after so long, but soon falling numb to that feeling too.

The only reason you have the strength to keep going is the belief that you’ll see your friends again. No matter what. In your timeline, without any interference.

Nothing changed today. Another day wasted, yet someone raps on your door sharply, forcing you to open your eyes gently and utter a small ‘okay’ to let them in.

… This hasn’t happened before. Why is he here?

“You’ve been stuck in here all day.” Shadow grumbles as he pushes your door open, the door squeaking on its hinges, with the moonlight already shining through your blowing curtains. “Have you even gotten out of bed today?” He says sternly, walking over to your bedside and nudging you, causing you to stir out of your resting state. You had already given up for today, so the plan was to just fall asleep until tomorrow.

‘Tomorrow’... What a dream tomorrow is to you.

Turning over, you meet his crimson eyes with a dull sigh leaving your lips, briefly glancing over to the clock set on the wall.

10:35 PM. It’s almost twelve. One more hour. One and a half.

He shifts his weight to one of his feet, setting a hand on his hip as he growls down at you. “No one saw you today, so Sonic told me to go and check on you. Especially since it’s this late and you’ve been missing for all of today.” He scoffs, clearly aggravated at your lack of energy or action. “You couldn’t at least tell one person that you 're going to stay inside all day?” Your blankets drop down to your lap as you sit up slowly, peering up at him through the blurry haze of your mind.

“At least I know you’re alive.” He says, walking over to your covered window to peel the curtains back, letting the moonlight illuminate your room with a soft, white glow. “Come on.” Shadow sits across from you on the bed, tugging the blankets away from you to encourage you to get up.

Why is he so persistent? Why can’t he just leave you alone? But even then, he’s still so…

Lovely.

Suddenly, tears prick and poke at the back of your eyes, welling up to the corners as they threaten to spill out and drip down your cheeks. Shadow stares at you as you hang your head low, refusing to meet his gaze as you try to shove that feeling away, despising that feeling of your throat tightening, even if you’ve begged to feel something other than despair for the longest time.

Of course. He doesn’t know what to do, but he’s still so charming…

“[Name]?” His hand presses against your calf under the blanket, slightly leaning forward to see the tears fall on your face, your shoulders trembling. “Wh-What’s wrong? Is it me?” A tremble flows through his hand; barely noticeable to someone who wouldn’t be paying attention to such a small detail. “[Name], tell me what’s wrong. Why’re you crying so suddenly?” Shadow murmurs, grabbing you by your shoulders to try to ease your worries.

Tell him. Tell him. Tell him you’ve been living every day hoping it’s the last one. Praying to be ripped from this curse. Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him

“What?” Shadow’s ear flicks in an odd manner, clearly confused at your sudden declaration. “I’m sorry? … Time-looping?”

And so you shatter. Break in front of his eyes; incessant ramblings about you feel like you’re going insane, yet the only thing to bring you back down to earth is getting to see him everyday on this agonizing, pitiful day. 

Something in his heart really does want to believe in you, truly. Although disbelief stands present in his head, he’ll reach out to you anyway. No matter what.

“[Name].” he utters your name, his gloved hand grazing your cheek to wipe a stray tear away. “I…” Shadow stares into your eyes, trying to fight back the shock from showing on his face. His hands twitch as he reaches out for yours, grazing the back of your palm. “If you really think that you’re… Looping; then I believe you. I promise.”

What?

This is different. New. Two hundred and thirty-six times. Never had something like this happened before. Two hundred and thirty-six. Two hundred and thirty-six. Two hundred and thirty-six days. Five thousand six hundred and sixty-four hours. 

It feels like your head is going to split into two, pulled and ripped apart by the hour and minute hand. It’s agonizing. But it’s something.

“[Name].” Shadow tilts your head up from your chin to face him. “I…” It looks like he’s at a loss for words, not that you blame him. 

“Come here.” He says softly, beckoning you closer to him with two fingers. What in the world does he want? Even though you ask multiple questions in your head, you lean in closer anyway to-

Huh?

His lips brush against yours, and it’s slow but sweet; still hesitant before he presses them further onto you, nipping at your bottom lip, almost desperate for something more. Deeper. Deeper. Even more so.

“[Name],” he growls in between pants, his voice trembling at the end of your name. “[Name], [Name], [Name], [Name]...” Shadow keeps on saying in between your kisses and breaths for air, almost like a record constantly on repeat. His palms press into your shoulders, pinning you down on the bed, as he leans over your trembling form. His eyes dart to the clock hanging on the wall, before looking back at you, cupping one of your cheeks.

He really feels the same way about you? He does? Your head subconsciously leans into his touch, pressing your face against his hand, desperately wanting- No. You have to feel the warmth coming from him.

“I’ll use whatever time I have left to spend it here with you. Even once it hits twelve; you have my word.” He whispers, leaning in to kiss you again…

Your head's pounding, the blankets laying heavy on your body this morning. Strangely heavy. Ugh. The mental toll of last night might be hitting you already, even if it’s another reset.

Wait, no, it’s not the blanket. If it’s not the blanket, it’s…

“How’re you feeling?” Shadow murmurs, raising his head off your chest to look at you directly. It’s really nerve-racking… But not in a bad way, somehow. “Are you sore anywhere?”

His question makes you cock your head to the side in confusion. Sore? Why would you be-

No. More importantly, what in the world is he doing in your bed? The day starts with your alarm ringing, but it hasn’t done so at all. In fact, it’s later than you would usually wake up; the clock’s hands say so.

Wait. So it’s really Sunday? Is it?!

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Shadow chuckles softly at your bewildered face, opening his mouth again to respond, but your arms toss around him, bear-hugging his body tight against yours.

“Ah, okay, okay, you’re happy; I get it…” Shadow grumbles, starting to pull away from you, but the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes makes him stop his protesting movements immediately, reaching up to wipe them away. “Oh come on, don’t start crying again.”

… Again? 

Your happy sobs are cut short by your own shock; this morning is getting both happier and weirder by the second. Again? So that means he knows it all? Everything?

A rare smile spreads across his muzzle, his eyes staring thoughtfully into yours. “Two hundred and thirty-six times…” Shadow starts, brushing his hand across your shoulder, and your face heats up gradually at the mention of the number coming from him. “So you really were telling the truth.”

You never told him that number. No way. Shouldn’t it just be like another reset?! Did he really remember your breakdown? No way, no way…

“When you mentioned the loop, something was telling me you were right, even if it sounded absurd.” He says, pausing his thoughts to think a bit harder about the situation. During this, he lifts himself off your body to sit at the edge of your bed, stretching his arms out in front of him. “I just…” He mumbles, his voice softening with his own strange embarrassment. “If it was really a time loop like you said, I wanted to try something I knew I wouldn’t regret.”

All time stuff aside, something else is nagging at your mind…

Did you two really do all that stuff last night?

Shadow peers over at you, before turning his head away; surely holding back some laughter by the way his shoulders shake, cupping his hand over his mouth.

“It’s nothing; don’t worry about it, then.”

(the set-up took longer than i thought it would, sorry for the yapping…)

[hoperenae]

Playing FMK w/Kenma and Kuroo (f!reader)

BACKGROUND — You've been best friends with Kenma and Kuroo since elementary school. You go to all their volleyball games, therefore you’re friends with all the other volleyball boys by default. You’re like everyone’s favorite sister. But one friendly game of ‘fuck, marry, kill’ could change all that.

A/N — Wrote this on the clock at work, so does that mean I’m a paid author now? 🥴

WORD COUNT — 885

“I’m not playing that.” Kenma glanced up from his game long enough to roll his eyes at you. You were all sitting on the floor in his bedroom.

“Oh come ooooon,” you pleaded. “It’ll be fun. What about you, Kuroo-kun?”

“You know I’m always down for a little drama,” Kuroo grinned slyly. You clapped your hands gleefully.

“Ok, we’ll start with you, then!” You turned to face Kuroo. “Hmm…Bokuto, Yaku, and Lev.”

“Oh please, that’s too easy,” Kuroo said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Fuck Bokuto, marry Yaku, kill Lev.”

“Fair enough,” you laughed. “Ok do me.”

Kuroo rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Kageyama, Shrimpy, Akaashi.”

“Oh man.” You paused. “I guess it’s gotta be fuck Kageyama, marry Akaashi, kill Hinata. Sorry Hinata.” You and Kuroo both laughed, and you swore you saw Kenma snicker out of the corner of your eye.

“Your turn, Kenma,” Kuroo said. “Give one of us 3 names.”

“No,” Kenma retorted plainly.

“Kenmaaaaaaa,” you groaned. “Please please pleeeeease.”

Kenma, finally done with your shit, took a deep breath, set his phone down, and said, “Fine. This one is for you, Kuroo. There’s only two people, and you can choose between fuck and marry.”

“That’s not really how it works,” you interjected. Kenma shot you a death glare that instantly shut you up.

“Me and y/n. What’ll it be?”

Kuroo’s face went ghostly white at the same time yours turned beet-red.

“Th-that’s not fair,” Kuroo stammered. “You can’t use people in this room.”

“Why not? Are you scared?” Kenma’s lips curled up in a cruel smile.

“Of course not!” Kuroo declared.

“Alright, then choose.” Kenma crossed his arms across his chest with the same sly look painted on his face.

“I-I don’t think you should be allowed to just change the rules like that,” Kuroo said, his voice cracking.

“Quit stalling, Kuroo,” Kenma said with raised eyebrows. You were still as stone, not daring to show any emotion one way or the other. But you had to admit, you were very curious to hear Kuroo’s answer.

“Okay fine!” Kuroo shouted. “I’d fuck and marry y/n because, frankly, I don’t want anything to do with Kenma right now if he’s gonna be a little brat.”

“So I’m your last resort? I only win by process of elimination?” You tried to suppress the grin forming on your face.

“What? No, that’s not what I meant!” Then, seeing the coy look on your face, Kuroo said, “I hate you both.”

“You love us.” You playfully punched his arm, very much aware of the blush that had crept onto his face.

LATER THAT NIGHT

It was late. You were in Kenma’s living room, and the host of the evening was fast asleep on the couch, leaving just you and Kuroo sitting on the floor in front of the couch watching a movie.

Of course, you were only half paying attention to the movie. The other half of your brain was preoccupied with how close Kuroo was to you, something that never seemed to matter until now. Your arms were nearly touching, to the point where every once in a while his arm hair tickled you. He was giving off heat like a radiator, so much so that you discarded your blanket long ago. Was he this close when the movie started, or did you gradually gravitate toward each other like magnets?

You moved ever so slightly to relieve your aching tailbone, and your arm bumped against his.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. He waved it off.

Despite the movie, the silence between the two of you felt deafening. You had never felt awkward around Kuroo before, so why now? Was it because he was so nervous to answer Kenma’s question earlier? Was it because he insinuated that he had feelings for you? Or was it all just part of the game?

You felt his gaze on you, so you turned to look at him. Your faces were mere inches away, close enough to feel his breath wisp across your face. It smelled like the pink Starbursts he had munched on earlier, refusing to eat any other flavor.

“What?” you whispered.

His eyes briefly flickered down to your lips and back. “Nothing.”

“It’s clearly not ‘nothing,’” you said, your stomach turning over and over and over. He said nothing for almost a full minute.

“I just…I hadn’t thought about it like that. About you like that.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “And now?”

“Now, I can’t stop.”

You stared into those familiar hazel eyes, and time seemed to slow down. Neither of you moved even an inch for fear of losing the moment. You felt suspended in midair, as if you were floating and falling at the same time. Everything you thought you knew was collapsing in on itself, but something new was being rebuilt from the rubble. Something beautiful and familiar and utterly terrifying.

“Would you guys just kiss already?” Kenma mumbled from behind you.

You both jolted and, realizing how close you were, quickly scooted apart. The spell was broken, and now you just felt flustered and embarrassed.

“Oh hell no, I’m not letting him ruin this.” Kuroo leaned back toward you and, in one swift motion, cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. And it was perfect.

Check out my masterlist here!

[scooterscoob]

Maxwell and Jacobi being silly goofers… I literally live for them and any of their interactions atp I think I know the script better than Gabriel Urbina-

they got a lil too goofy

[becasbelt]

a little bit of hurt/comfort before we jump into act 3

also on ao3

* * *

It was after everything.

After Caitlyn and Vi stumbled their way back topside, Vi’s head pounding and Caitlyn’s leg wound reopened. After Caitlyn insisted on going to the destroyed council chambers before seeking help for herself. After they’d found the battered corpse of Cassandra Kiramman, already retrieved from the rubble and covered in white sheets. After Caitlyn’s anguished cry, her knees giving out, shaking in Vi’s arms as her wide eyes stared unblinkingly at the still face of her mother’s body. After patch-ups and funeral preparations and weak attempts at recuperating.

At the end of everything, it was this:

Caitlyn and Vi, lying on Caitlyn’s bed in the first inklings of dawn, the morning of the funeral. Vi’s arms wrapped tightly around Caitlyn’s body, Caitlyn’s head heavy on her shoulder. They’re still, have been still for a long time now, but Vi knows Caitlyn isn’t asleep by the way her hands remain tightly twisted in the fabric of her shirt.

A glance down reveals exactly what Vi expected to see: Caitlyn’s eyes, red and wide open, staring numbly out the window.

Caitlyn hadn’t slept a wink last night. Vi hadn’t faired much better, snapping herself awake every time she felt herself doze off, unwilling to leave Caitlyn alone for even a second.

They hadn’t been doing a lot of that the past few days. Sleeping. Or leaving each other alone.

 The first meager sunbeam manages to break through the haze of clouds outside, dimly flickering against the foot of the bed. Vi moves for the first time in hours; a twitch of her fingers against Caitlyn’s back, brushing gently against shoulder blades.

Caitlyn’s breathing changes, deepens ever so slightly, and Vi knows she’s registered the touch.

“When do you have to get up?” Vi asks, voice scratchy and quiet. The question is too loud for the silence of the bedroom, but Caitlyn doesn’t flinch like she’d feared she would.

“Soon,” Caitlyn answers, her own voice hoarse. Vi continues with her fingers’ movements, tracing down her spine and back up; anywhere she can reach without moving her arm. “The staff will start setting up in an hour, and then people will arrive, and then…”

She doesn’t need to go on, Vi knows what comes next, they’ve gone over it, though she hadn’t been involved in the planning at all: then the service will start, and Caitlyn will have to say goodbye to her mother whether she’s ready to or not.

What bittersweet agony it must be, to get one last proper goodbye with your family in the company of strangers. To get a last goodbye at all.

Vi keeps moving her fingers. Up to Caitlyn’s arm now, skimming the skin beneath her short sleeve. Caitlyn’s fist tenses in its hold on Vi’s shirt briefly before relaxing, releasing the fabric and splaying her fingers against Vi’s stomach, as flat as they can be.

There are words caught in Vi’s throat. Words she’s said, words she hasn’t. What can I do, how can I help, are you sure you’re up for this?

I’m sorry. About your mother. For stopping you.

She swallows them down, shifts on the bed until Caitlyn is pulled even closer to her, legs tangling and face tucked into the crook of her neck, breaths puffing softly against her skin. Vi reaches up to cover the hand on her stomach, pulls it to her chest, and feels relieved at the small squeeze Caitlyn gives her fingers.

Vi doesn’t know how to navigate this. This new, grief-stricken Caitlyn. Has never known how to deal with her own grief, frankly. She can’t tell if she’s helping or hurting, but Caitlyn hasn’t told her to go away yet, so she figures she must be doing some amount of good.

Caitlyn takes a deep breath, eyelashes fluttering against Vi’s skin as her eyes finally shut for a moment. “I’ll need to check on my father first,” she murmurs. “Make sure he’s awake. Presentable.” She pauses. “Sober enough.”

The ghost of Tobias Kiramman has haunted the Kiramman manor since the explosion, drifting in and out of rooms aimlessly, bottle held loosely in pale hands. Letting his daughter handle every funeral detail, every fallout felt from the loss of the head of House Kiramman.

Vi privately thinks he’s selfish. Drowning in his own despair when he still has so much to care for.

Vi licks her lips. “Do you need me for anything?”

She can’t help but ask it. Feels like she should be helpful – needs to be helpful in some way.

But Caitlyn just exhales slowly. “Just this,” she says. Her fingers curl into Vi’s shirt again, the collar this time, fingertips brushing skin. “This is enough. For right now.”

They stay that way for another few minutes, Vi moving her hand along Caitlyn’s lower back, daring to slip beneath the hem of her shirt to trace her skin. Rain starts falling outside, the lone sunbeam consumed by dark clouds.

Eventually the sounds of workers arriving and moving around outside stir them again. Caitlyn sighs and stretches, toes curling against Vi’s legs. Then she pulls back enough to finally look at Vi’s face. She releases Vi’s shirt to brush her bangs out of her eyes, cups Vi’s cheek softly.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

She looks so sad, so broken. Vi’s chest hurts looking at her.

“Anytime,” Vi whispers back, means it.

She has no fucking clue how to put this girl back together. But she wants to, needs to. Selfishly, she needs to keep her intact to keep herself from falling apart.

She leans forward and presses her lips to Caitlyn’s forehead, right at her hairline, exhaling slowly through her nose. Caitlyn releases her own shaky breath and curls her hand around the back of Vi’s neck, holding her there before moving back again.

Caitlyn’s eyes look less distant now as they focus on Vi’s lips, and Vi feels a tiny flicker of hope light in her chest. She presses her thumb gently to the corner of Vi’s mouth, brushes lightly against her bottom lip.

Then Caitlyn blinks and the moment is gone, her hand moving back to safe territory on Vi’s chest.

“I need to get up,” she murmurs. “And if I don’t do it now I fear I never will.”

Then don’t, Vi wants to say, but that wouldn’t be fair in the slightest, so she just nods and loosens her arms, allowing Caitlyn to sit up, to push her hair back from her face, to start putting up a strong front. But Vi can’t stop herself from following her up and pressing one last kiss against Caitlyn’s temple.

“Good luck,” she says, because it’s going to be fine feels like a lie and you’ll get through this feels callous.

Caitlyn leans into the kiss for just a second, the smallest smile ghosting on her lips in gratitude, then gets up with a lingering touch to Vi’s leg.

Vi stays in bed and watches her duck into the bathroom to wash her face, pull her hair into a ponytail, put on a robe. Then she’s slipping out of the bedroom, already preparing herself with what she needs to get through this day.

She doesn’t look back, and Vi watches her go.

[boxylocks]

New ref for the boyyyy ✨

[collectivecloseness]

Oohh for the spotify thing, how about 20 with Eddie Munson??

Literally a great pick, and again another on my character playlist for this specific person. It’s Cherry Bomb by The Runaways!

Eddie Munson x reader

Eddie always drove you back after school, no matter if you were going to his place, yours, or anywhere else in Hawkins. Walking hand in hand with you through the corridors as you both chucked your bags in his van and managed to leave that shithole behind, and go somewhere for the rest of the day no one would bother Eddie, or the both of you.

Today Eddie had finished taking you out for a milkshake, conveniently the both of you taking long enough to finish that by the time you got back to Eddie’s trailer, you’d both be able to say a quick bye to Wayne before his shift, and it meant you had the entire place to yourselves. As you did most evenings... and nights when you could find an excuse, or sneak out.

Although you had to pick up some stuff from your place before you could go over to Eddie’s, so he was driving there first. Hoping that you’d both stop off at another perfect time, one where there was already food on the table, that your mom always encouraged Eddie to have some of.

He really did like your mom, mostly at first because she always liked him too. She never treated him differently, or bad, even from the start. She literally welcomed Eddie into her home with open arms, giving him a hug that first time she met him, probably because of how much you’d raved about how wonderful Eddie was before.

And Eddie was pestering you about if you knew what your mom was making tonight, and if she might have already made it by the time they get there, when it reminded you of something you forgot to tell Eddie this morning.

“Oh actually, my mom and I were talking about you last night.” You nodded from the passenger seat.

Eddie stopped asking about food, intrigued, turning to you with an expression that was inviting into a full conversation, interested as he let his eyes go back to the road. “Oh yeah? What about? Can your mom not stop complimenting me and going on about how you’ve got such a bitchin’ boyfriend?” Eddie rolled the last couple of words off his tongue, holding it at the base of his open mouth as he beamed at you, head exaggeratedly bent down to tilt up at you, chuckling at your earned laugh.

“No!” You retort smiling. “She said that earlier.”

“Ohhhh, of course!” Eddie beamed, going along with your ‘very serious’ nods. “My apologies. Why were you talking about me?”

“We were listening to a song in the car and she said it remained her of you. And to be honest I totally agree.” You explain, already sensing the eager interest arising in your boyfriend, who would be bouncing in his seat the whole journey if you kept it from him.

“Ooooh, what is it!?” Eddie says excitedly, licking his lips as his eyes flit between you and the road, tapping his fingers on his wheel, almost like a subconscious drumroll. “Holy Diver? Enter Sandman? Please tell me you finally showed her some real Ozzy.”

Instead of answering, you move your hand and eject the tape currently playing Seek & Destroy, letting it fall to his dashboard as you rummage inside your bag by your feet.

Only when you ejected Eddie’s tape, in the middle of a song, a genuine pout spread across Eddie’s poor face. “Heyyy wha- wait.” He whined pitifully, and you looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, at his genuine big brown eyes.

He literally repeated that song twice in the 11 minutes to the milkshake place. “Eddie.” Is all you say, your hand down your bag, just looking at him. And he gets over it real quick. Shuffling up in his seat, attentive as you pulled a blank tape out, and slotted it into place, interested to hear what song was about to start playing.

‘Cherry Bomb’ by The Runaways hadn’t been exactly what he was expecting.

You looked to him as it started playing, noticing he wasn’t shocked, or upset, or ecstatic, he was genuinely thinking about it. His eyes looking up at he tapped his fingers on the wheel to the beat, before looking at you.

���Really?” He says genuinely, taking it in, considering it, and wanting your thoughts on it too, as he thinks more about it, already knowing the song of course. He did like it.

“Yeah actually, I think it does fit your...” you gesture Eddie up and down with your hand, looking at him, and remembering as you listened to the song yesterday you thought all about Eddie Munson “-well, you.”

“Huh.” Eddie nods, nibbling his lip as he nods slightly to the song. “I see it actually.”

“Yeah.” You add quietly, both of you starting to properly nod to the song now. And when Eddie turns to you, cracking a smile, you know he’s about to sing, and knowing him so well, you join in at the exact same time.

“I’m the fox you’ve been waitin’ for!!”

You both burst into laughs, the excited and sudden unison so you two, singing it to each other dramatically, before beginning to rock in your seats. Smiling as you sing the popular song together.

“-Hello mom! I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch- cherry bomb!”

You both exclaim the words, the energy in the van always this high.

“Hello world, I’m your wild girl!”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the ‘wild’ part, and you remember just how ‘him’ this song sometimes feels.

“Yeah. It is you, this song. You’re my wild girl.” You tell Eddie, smiling entrancingly at him, your baby girl, and Eddie very quickly plays along.

“You’re my wild girl.” He says himself leaning in all teasing and mushy to tell you, before you do the exact same thing. Both repeating the words “You’re my wild girl”, “No you’re my wild girl” to each other over and over, until you both pull back from where your lips are extended comically and gushily at each other, laughing too breathlessly from the pose for anyone to repeat the joke.

Before you both end up joining in the song again, quick to make sure you can get to the chorus.

“-ausin’ teenage blues. GET DOWN LADIES, you got nothing to lose!”

You both sing the lyrics loudly and pumped with each other, jamming out together like you often do in his van, and practically anywhere Eddie or you can have music.

“Hello daddy, hello mom!-“

You started the next line, but Eddie instead chose not to ch-ch- with you, and turn to ask you openly. “Hey! Maybe that’s how I should announce myself to your parents when I walk into their home real soon. With the cherry bomb part and everything!” He suggests, a casually serious look on his face as commitment to the bit saying it, but his deep brown eyes sparkling with playfulness.

“Oh yeah. That’ll go over radically.” You both nod in comical agreement, like you’re making fun of middle aged men in a business meeting. And you even manage to throw a thumbs up and a solid wink to Eddie, that he replies with a twisted lipped confident smile, and the okay signal with his free hand. Both throwing out “yeah’s” back and forth to each other, in agreement of this excellent plan.

Although as the next part of the song comes on, one bit is dropped for another for Eddie, as you both listen to the chorus of moans playing in the song.

And as you wonder why Eddie was turning to you yet again, and without singing, he quickly outdid you on the jesting scale.

“Your mom wasn’t reminded of me with the moaning part of the song right?” Eddie asked you, as if he was shocked at the sudden thought she’d overheard anything, but not even bothering to hide his grin.

You slap his shoulder, laughing as he lets one out himself, punching his elbow lightly, just pretending he was ‘saved’ because he was driving, even as you chuckled, shaking your head ‘disapprovingly’ at Eddie with a smile. Which was not a rarity.

Eddie gestured with his hand out as if he had a point, still smirking. “I mean it’s not like anyone’s heard us when you always make us both be so quiet when we’re up there-“ another whack, this time to his knee, cutting him off short.

And you snort laugh first, rolling your eyes at him as Eddie smirks at his suggestive quip. Although beaming with full teeth at you, proud to hear that noise meaning he made you laugh so. And God if you can’t just beam yourself, seeing that stupid smile on his face.

There’s a singular moan before the start of the next verse, and this time Eddie wasn’t quiet listening for it. Instead he leant in close to you, and moaned in time with the song, breathy and sensual and overdramatic in your face.

This time your hand is in his face, pushing him back as Eddie laughs into your palm and spread fingers, his soft skin, pliable lips, and warm breath teasing you, although being teased himself as you pulled away.

Chuckling, you brought your knees up in your seat, feeling your heart race as it so often did, even though you’d been dating Eddie for a while now, he still found ways to make you fall in love over and over. Actually, you don’t think that ever stopped happening.

And at seeing your curled up, excited and chuckling expression, and after he knew his flirting made you feel good, as always, Eddie winks at you, open mouthed smirking, his tongue on his bottom lip.

God your boyfriend was so hot. You admired his body, and hair, and clothes, and his shining personality next to you right now, feeling your blood rush through your body as you let yourself flutter with how extraordinary you knew Eddie was. You were so lucky.

“I’ll give ya something to live for” Eddie sings beautifully to you, before taking your chin with his thumb and forefinger, looking at you for the moment as he sings, shaking your chin lightly. “Have ya and grab ya, till you’re sore!” He squeezes your chin, with his teasing, scrunched smirk.

You giggle in his hold, your whole face lighting up as you love the atmosphere you always have with Eddie. Smirking right back at his perfect face. Not batting him away this time.

Until Eddie lets go himself, leaning over your lap with his arm stretched in his leather jacket, quickly opening the glove compartment by you, to show you his assortment of lollipops he keeps in there just for you. Ever since you two started dating.

You gasp excitedly, mouth open with a beam and thrilled eyes at Eddie! Leaning in to grab a cherry one for him and you, quickly taking off the easy slip wrapping, and popping yours into your mouth, relishing over the cherry flavour gushing over your tastebuds and cheeks.

At the same time leaning Eddie’s cherry lolly over to him, and giggling as he waggles his tongue out, and eventually wraps it around the cherry lollipop, his tongue flicking wetly against the tip of your thumb in amusement.

Taking the sweet red treat into his mouth, lolling it into the corner of his cheek, as he smirks at you. His mouth finally silent, except for breathy laughs that are so Eddie, but his eyes saying it all, glowing and sparkling just so unbelievably in love with you.

Eddie unable to stop stealing glances of you in his passenger seat, as you both speed off down the Hawkins road. Head banging together, especially with Eddie’s shaggy mullet, to the guitar, drums, and last yells of “Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb!”

[leventart-den]

I love seeing Sanji and Zoro trying to recover from a bad fight together

Just…. Both of them in pain, maybe some blood??? That’s good shit right there

Just them being quiet trying to patch the other up, because Chopper already has enough on his.. hooves? And they don’t want to be a burden

You don’t even have to draw this, I just want your opinion on this???? It is VERY important I swear

Dearest Anony!

I swear I'll draw this, I really like the idea! But since this is VERY important, I cannot remain silent and leave you for days without an answer.

Plus, damn, I love this kind of stuff, I could talk about it for hours (if I didn't have to use an online translator because my written English is non-existent).

AN (Me from the future while I was writing what is below): I tried to be short but I was carried away. Thanks for the inspiration, by the way. I'm sorry for all the blood. But I hope that you like it overall and that my answer will brighten up your time at least a little!

AN2 (even further in the future when I finished writing): When I have time I'll rewrite this into a fanfic, if you don't mind, dear Anony.

P.S. to everyone who wrote prompts for art - I will draw each of them, I promise! Thank you very much, they are wonderful! One Piece Art prompts are open for an unlimited time.

***

What I picture in my head when I read your prompt:

It’s time after a heavy battle, they are on the ship, everyone is tired, it’s the afternoon, calm and very quiet. Sanji and Zoro seem to be fine at first glance, and Chopper is so tired that he doesn't have the strength to insist on checking their condition, so he lets them go, immediately falling asleep at the table. It's so hot on the deck, almost suffocating without the wind, but Sanji and Zoro go downstairs to where provisions are stored, barrels of alcohol and where it's cool.

Sanji limps to his usual place, to a box against the wall on which he sits down heavily, leaning against the wooden surface and exhaling a cloud of smoke from the smoldering cigarette now clutched in his fingers. It's stained with blood.

Zoro glances at him briefly and silently heads to the far corner, pulling out a box of first aid from behind the drawers. It's a familiar routine by this point. They are both strong and both don't want to be a burden to Chopper when it can be avoided. They're both stupid like this. So of course at some point in their journey they came to this silent agreement mending each other's wounds and here they are. Again.

Zoro places the box on a nearby drawer and sits down opposite Sanji. The cook takes another drag and finally puts out the cigarette on the wall, throwing the cigarette butt into the iron tin can nearby, which he placed for such purposes. He grunts, finally opening the box and taking out everything he needs while Zoro takes off his shirt.

There is no tightness or awkwardness between them about such things. Not anymore. 

Sanji begins by treating the nasty gash on his forehead. It turned out to be difficult to wipe off all the blood; head wounds usually bleed a lot. Although, with his experience up to this point, he gets the job done quite quickly. Next come the wounds on the arms and torso. There are several cuts and spreading bruises. Zoro has a couple of broken ribs. He drinks a few drinks from the bottle while Sanji stitches up a particularly deep cut near his collarbone and tightens bandages around his chest and torso.

They don't talk during the process, they are too tired even for their usual banter and jokes towards each other. They would probably rather go to bed now, but the risk of upsetting and angering Chopper later is too great. So they will finish what they started, despite the fact that Zoro is half asleep and Sanji's movements are getting slower.

The air becomes heavy with blood and now the smell of tobacco is added to it. Sanji lights another cigarette and Zoro opens his eyes watching him. The cook's hands are shaking, he notes. He runs his eyes over his entire form, noting his injuries. He doesn't see much but Curly looks pale. His gaze falls down. There is a pool of blood on the floor under his feet. Zoro swears soundlessly. Looks like the shitty cook has got his legs messed up.

Zoro gives him a very meaningful look and Sanji sighs. He bites the cigarette between his teeth and fumbles with the waistband of his trousers, but his fingers are too weak right now. 

Zoro watches him for a few seconds and clenches his teeth because of the pain in his ribs, but still gets up and leans towards the cook, pushing his hands away and helping with the clothes. Sanji lifts himself off the box as far as he can, allowing him to pull his trousers down, and then leans heavily against the wall again. His cigarette is smoldering, he is too sleepy to even smoke.

Zoro, meanwhile, examines his legs. There are several deep cuts and his left ankle is swollen and his knees are bruised. Zoro thinks that he shouldn't be surprised, after all, the shitty cook's legs are his weapons, the main blows fall on them, but still. If some of the cuts had been any higher they could have cut the artery and then the cook would have been dead. Zoro finds himself observing all the old scars that cover his skin. He shakes his head, pushing away the thoughts; now is not the time for them.

At this moment, the pale bloodstained hand falls down and the half-smoked cigarette slips out of limped fingers onto the floor. Zoro's gaze shoots up, he feels pressure in his chest for a second and it's not his broken ribs.

But Sanji's breathing is calm and measured. The cook just fell asleep, it seems.

The swordsman releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Okay.

This is okay.

Everything is fine.

He picks up the cigarette from the floor, puts it out and throws it into the jar with the others. Zoro winces at the movement. His damn ribs hurt with the adrenaline gone, but he'll take care of this stupid cook anyway.

He gets rid of the blood around the wounds and stitches them up, trying to keep his hands as stable as possible. It turns out to be more difficult than it seemed, but he tries. He bandages Sanji's legs after and takes off his shoes with socks, checking his ankles and feet.

It looks like nothing was broken, probably just a sprain, so for now Zoro will do what he can and tomorrow Sanji will turn to Chopper himself if necessary.

After a few minutes and tending to a few other cuts and bruises here and there, Zoro looked over his work and decided he was done. The cook didn’t even flinch during all this time and it looked worrying if it weren’t for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest from breathing. He really lost a lot of blood. Zoro decided not to even try to wake him.

Grunting, he bent down, pulling his pants up to his knees and then moved the cook's motionless body closer to himself, leaning back a little so that he would lean against him and Zoro could pull his pants all the way up. He carefully returned Sanji to his seat and sighed wearily as he buttoned up his pants. Zoro felt exhausted by this point. He wasn't sure he could make it upstairs to the cabins with Sanji as dead weight.

So after a few seconds of hesitation, Zoro went to the corner where they kept all sorts of extra things and fished out a heavy animal skin with thick fur and a couple of blankets. He placed it on the floor next to Sanji and carefully moved him onto the makeshift bed, throwing a blanket over him. He watched as Sanji reflexively curled up on himself, burying his face in the soft fur. The cook always sleeps like this, as if he is trying to hide. It never sits right with Zoro. It looks wrong. 

One day he will find out why. But now Zoro settles down next to Sanji, wrapping his arm around him on top of the blanket and holding him close to himself. He feels the other man's shoulders relax and his breath a little too hot on his collarbone. His nose is cold against Zoro's skin. Zoro suddenly feels like he won't be able to sleep, but he buries his face in the cook's hair, which smells of cherry tobacco, sea and spices, and listens to his heartbeat against his skin.

He falls asleep within seconds.

[pup-pee]

sometimes i see 2 much batfam fluff that it makes me go; “yk what? im making the “kids” use the word dad as a manipulation tactic 2 get what they want. whether that b a physical thing or a mental fuck over”

[giggly-squiggily]

Weeee requestsssss is it okay if i request lee chifuyu and ler baji??

Oops this started out as a tickle fic and turned into a ship akjrkejakrjajke I gotcha, anon! Ahh, I love them so much!!! Lee!Chifuyu is so freaking cute (really- I just love Chifuyu) I hop you like it!

CW: Swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps)

@myreygn, @duckymcdoorknob, @baby-tickles2022, @cupcake-spice13,

Baji was in a mood.

It wasn’t often he felt them- these sudden urges to cause mayhem amongst his friends. Perhaps it was the full moon? Maybe the planets were aligned? He didn’t know what it was, and usually didn’t question it.

What mattered was only one thing.

He was gonna get Chifuyu today.

~~~

“Peke-J, you got to move, I’m hungry.” Chifuyu looked down at the black cat sleeping peacefully in his lap, shoulders slumping his shoulders once he realized he was stuck. “Come on- can’t you let me up so I can get a snack? I’ll be right back.”

The cat only continued to purr, far too comfortable to acknowledge his owner’s current predicament.

“Eh…fine.” Defeated, Chifuyu pulled out his phone, texting Takemichi with his side quest for food. He’d pay him back once he got there.

Before he could even send it however, tragedy struck.

“GOTCHA!” Baji roared from behind, vaulting over the couch as he wrapped his arms around Chifuyu’s shoulders, sending them both tumbling sideways into the cushions. Peke-J; now awake and mildly irritated by his parent’s antics, stretched before wandering off.

“B-Baji! You ass, Peke-J was cuddling with me!” Chifuyu squirmed as Baji turned him on his back, easily grabbing his wrist when the blonde tried to punch him. “Get off!”

“No way.” Baji grinned a wolfish smile, sending shivers down Chifuyu’s back. “Chifuyu…you know what I’m gonna do to you?”

“Feed me?” Chifuyu asked, even when he felt Baji’s hand slip under his hoodie, pushing it up. Giggles were already climbing up his throat, and he flattened his lips to keep them there. “B-Bahahaji, please!”

“I’ll feed you later. For now, I’m gonna…TICKLE YOU!” Baji roared, sending both hands into Chifuyu’s bare stomach, ten fingers flying over the warm skin. Chifuyu shrieked, his body full spasming as bright, unobtainable laughter spilled past his lips. “Aww, look at you! I’ve barely touched you and you’re laughing like a baby! Does it tickle that bad?”

“Bahhahahhahahhaji, yohohohohohohu shihihihihihihihihithehhahhahhahahd!” Chifuyu squealed out, his hands trying in vain to tug down his hoodie and protect his belly. Baji only laughed, one hand keeping it up while the other carried on tracing random shapes and patterns against that awful soft spot towards his lower stomach. “Sthahahhahap ihiihihihit, you bihiihhiiihihiihtch!”

“Oo, someone’s got a potty mouth today! Are you hangry, Chifuyu? Do you want a snack?” Baji cooed, eyes glinting as he leaned down. “I got a good one right here…”

“Bahahhaji? Bahhhahaji, wahhaHAHHHAHAHHAHAIT!” Chifuyu all but screamed when Baji’s mouth pressed into his belly, blowing a massive raspberry against the center of his belly. Abandoning the hem of his hoodie, he tugged at Baji’s hair, trying to pull him off. “GEEHEHEHEHT! GEHEHEHHEHEHT BAHAHAHCK, YOU DOOHOHOHUCHE!”

“What? You said you were hungry- I’m just giving you raspberries!” Baji laughed against his stomach, bringing his hands back into the fray to taze Chifuyu’s sides, making him spazz about and shriek. “So mean today- you must be seriously hangry.” Baji winked before blowing another loud raspberry before sitting up, his hands working another bad spot beneath his lower ribs. “Okay, you don’t like fruit. How about short ribs?”

“GEHAHHAHAHA, BAHHAHAHHAJI PLEHAHAHHAHASE!” Chifuyu was a mess of laughter, face bright red and eyes squeezed shut. His hands blindly grabbed Baji's, managing to loop around his wrists, but nothing else. Every squeeze and poke zapped his strength, like he was halfway between falling asleep and staying awake. “COHOOOHOHME OHOHOHOHON-WAHAHHAHAIT!”

Baji did, to Chifuyu’s surprise, letting the blonde gasp for hair. His hands remained on Chifuyu’s lower ribs, tapping gently but not pressing in, still making him giggle. When he was no longer panting, Baji smiled. “Better?”

“Yeah-AH! Ahehahahahhahaha, oh yohoohoohohu jehehehehherk!” Chifuyu jumped when the hands at his ribs resumed their game, making him fall back into the couch. “Bahhahahahahaji!”

“Hmm…so it’s a no to fruit, and a no to short ribs..oh- you know what I recently heard about?” Baji grinned, his hand sweeping up to Chifuyu’s collar. “How about neck bones?”

“GAH!” Chifuyu squeaked, his laugh going silent as he curled into himself, feet kicking and shoulders up to his chin, hands balled into fists and tight against his chest. “BAHAHAJI!” He cried, the sound barely about a whispered squeak.

“Hehe, okay- I’m done for real now.” Baji pulled his hands back, watching Chifuyu collapse against the cushions, breathless and panting. “Wow, you’re so-”

Just then, the front door opened.

“Chifuyu? Hey- I got your text.” Takemichi walked in, a convenient store bag in hand. “They weren’t selling Pork Buns unfortunately, so I got you some Onigiri-” He froze when he saw the pair, eyes widening and cheeks flushing.

Admittedly- it was quite the sight. Chifuyu- red faced and breathless- lying against the couch; his hoodie pushed up all the way up his chest. Baji, who was sitting on him, hands against his belly and halfway leaning down over said blonde. Both their faces were wide eyed in shock, not expecting Takemichi to arrive.

Guess the text went through after all.

“Eh…right- I’ll um…I’ll leave this here.” Takemichi put the bag on the table, avoiding eye contact. His ears were bright red as he made his way back to the door. “You can pay me back later. Bye guys…and erm, congratulations.” He shut the door quietly on his way out.

Silence. Chifuyu felt like his face could melt. Baji looked unreadable.

“Well, shit. Takemitchy thinks we’re gay.” Baji declared.

“Oh god.” Chifuyu covered his face with his sleeves, dread curling in his belly. “Oh my god, oh my god he’s gonna tell everyone.”

“He probably will.”

“They’ll think we’re gay!”

“They probably already do.”

“What do we do?”

“Make it a reality?”

Chifuyu froze, peeking through his fingers. Through his shock and embarrassment, he felt his heartbeat race. “H-Huh?”

Baji looked at him patiently, his expression easy. “I said what I said. Let’s make it a reality.” He smirked, waggling his eyebrows. “I’m down if you are.”

“Are you…confessing?” Chifuyu asked.

“Maybe I am.” Baji reached out, tugging his hands away from his face with effortless motions. “Maybe I’ve liked you since the first time I’ve met you. Maybe I’ve been wanting to make this thing official since you told me we’d co-parent Peke-J.” He let his hands slide up until they were holding Chifuyu’s. It was then did the blonde realize he was nervous. He could feel his pulse and how hard Baji’s heart was beating. “Whatcha gonna say about that?”

“I…” Chifuyu blinked, his heart rattling in his chest. Was this really happening? Taking a breath, he raised his chin. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“I just did.” Baji replied.

“No. No maybes. Say it with your full chest.” He needed to know it was real.

Baji laughed softly, a slight tremor in the sound. “Fair enough…Chifuyu, I like you. Alot.” Baji looked him in the eyes- only genuine honesty could be found within. “I’ve liked you since we first met, and I’ve liked you since after. I can’t say when it was exactly that I…caught feelings.” Baji blushed- a rare sight. “But I mean it when I say it. I want to make this real. So…what do you say?”

Chifuyu felt his eyes mist up, and he flattened his lips to fight back the tears. “I say…I’m really happy right now.” He breathed, making Baji suck in a short breath. “I’m so happy, cause I feel the same way.”

The way his expression lit up, like Chifuyu was some sort of sacred treasure Baji had been looking for all his life- Chifuyu took that expression and tucked it deep within his chest, letting it warm him from within. “Hey…can I kiss you?” He whispered, and Chifuyu nodded, mouthing an equally soft “Yes.”

Baji leaned in and-

“Meow…” Peke-J leaped up just before their lip connected, squeezing himself between them and getting comfy on Chifuyu's chest. Baji shot back, spitting out cat hair. 

“You freaking cock-blocker of a cat-” Baji began, stopping when Chifuyu laughed.

“Pfft-ahehahhahaha! Dihiihd you just cahhahall him thahahhat?” He wheezed, the sound melting away any irritation Baji may have had for the animal and replacing it with bubbly mirth of his own. He broke out into soft chuckles, the sound growing the harder Chifuyu laughed.

“I did! Look at him- he knows what he did too!” Baji pointed, Peke-J peering up at him rather pleased. Chifuyu hooted, fanning his face.

“Gohohohod- oh god, my behehhelly!” He cried, shaking his head as his giggles died down to a soft titter. “Oh yeah…I forgot I was hungry.”

“I’ll grab one of the snacks.” Baji stood, not before walking around the couch, leaning down so he was leveled with Chifuyu. Leaning in, he pressed a quick peck to his smiling lips, finally getting his kiss. “Stay here.”

Chifuyu reached up to touch his tingling lips, watching Baji as he gathered Takemitchi’s gift.

He could get used to this.

Thanks for reading!

[iridescentis]

i think the reason why i don't read/write my sapphic ships very often is because im just jealous it makes me mad😭

like with guy characters i absolutely adore them and their dynamics but with sapphics its all of that but also like. do yall need a third. im free whenever.

[hendolish]

hello!!! hendolish only one bed trope at camp or something and one of them wakes up holding the others hand really tight and feels bashful abt it in the morning and the fluff!! tyyy love you :)

jack grealish/jordan henderson | there’s only one bed! ♡

“There’s been a mix up.”

Gareth had told him late last night once they’d arrived at the hotel. There’s wasn’t enough rooms available for each player to get their own, so would he mind sharing?

Tired and exhausted from a sleepless plane journey, Jordan had just agreed, nodding and waving off Gareth’s concerns. Last thing they needed was someone kicking up a fuss.

And he was just thinking about who to ask when Jack appeared at his side from where he’d been over chatting with some of the other lads, volunteering his room, to which Jordan had gratefully agreed. He just needed his head on a pillow. Now.

That’s how Jordan’s found himself in this situation anyway.

He’d gotten into the double bed before Jack, keeping well to his own designated side, but when he wakes they appear to be a tangle of limbs.

Jordan daren’t move in case he wakes the younger; he knows he’s not an amazing sleeper, and his alarm is still yet to go off, meaning they’ve still got time before they have to head down to breakfast.

However, half-pinned under Jack and half under the covers, Jordan soon finds himself overheating. It’s only then, when he attempts to extract himself, that Jordan realises why he can’t feel his right hand.

Jack’s fingers are there, intertwined with his own, as the younger clasps their joined hands close against his chest. The heat from Jack’s bare skin pressed against the back of Jordan’s hand.

Jordan must be staring too long, or must have moved too hastily, because before he knows it and before he has any real grasp on how he wants to react to this situation, Jack is twitching awake.

“Mornin’.”

He says, voice low and scratchy and his accent thick. It doesn’t make Jordan’s stomach flip. It doesn’t.

“Hey.”

Jordan doesn’t mention their hands, nor does he attempt to try and move his own. Only when his eyes betray him and dart down to where they lay does Jack seem to register what’s going on, cheeks flushing as apologies and ways to laugh it off come spilling over his lips.

But Jordan still doesn’t let Jack’s hand go. The younger’s brow creases at him, confused, then slowly eases out as their eyes lock together and Jordan brings the back of his hand up to his lips and places a kiss there. Small and succinct.

“Better get ready for breakfast.”

He says then as he swings his legs out of bed, a smile hooked into his cheeks at the dazed look on Jack’s face as he notes the fluttery feeling inside his chest.

Probably best to examine that a bit later. He reckons.

♡

[becca-alexa]

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Ten: Come On and Dance

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: What will happen when Veronica invites Eddie to the dance?

Word Count: 5.4K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note: i cannot believe this chapter is so long it's the longest one so far but SO MUCH is happening i didn't want to split it up -- plus i feel like all the other chapters have been short so it's nice to write something longer

and a big ol' hug and many many kisses to @rollforhellfire for literally being the trooper of the century with this and everything else i love and appreciate you friend and am sending every immaculate vibe in the universe your way 💗💗💗💗💗

    Silence.

    For once, the Munson trailer was infinitely quiet; not even the soft, droning hum of the bathroom fan was enough to break through the lingering monotony.

    The aging hunk of metal groaned and griped as it was hammered by the sudden winds of the thunderstorm raging outside; the muted, rhythmic pelting of rain against the aluminum roof went unnoticed by the pair seated at the yellowed kitchen counter. 

    Veronica had lost count of how many glances she'd stolen of Eddie, of how many times she'd turned her head, her mind a jumbled knot of questions as she watched him diligently work through his assignment, tongue poking through between tight lips as he scratched at his chin with the butt of his pencil - her pencil, but that was beside the point. Her gaze trailed over his face, over the gentle roll of his cheeks, the sweep of his lashes over chocolate-brown eyes - and the longer she stared, the more her resolve bled away like grains of sand along a breaking shore. So lost was she in her spiraling thoughts, she hadn't realized that Eddie had stopped writing.

    "There somethin' on my face, sweetheart?" he asked, his smile soft and easy - too easy, a stinging taunt to her frayed nerves. She pulled back, the forest of her eyes clear and bright - bare, at least by the way he was watching her, waiting for her answer.

    Veronica shook her head, ducking away to hide the burning flush scalding up the column of her neck, rising to color the tips of her ears. "No, it's… it's nothing, sorry." She turned back to her own neglected work, scribbling whatever she could think of onto the page, desperate to throw him off her scent, the trembling of her hands belying her every attempt.

    It's just Munson, Veronica reminded herself, tugging at her braids to avoid the questioning look she knew he was giving her.

    Eddie leaned forward, head pressed against his folded arms, and he nudged his way toward her, into the bubble of her personal space. "C'mon, Windsor. Talk to me." He poked at her arm with his elbow until he'd pulled a smile from her - although small, it was enough to make his chest flutter. "What's goin' on in there?"

    She looked at him, her uncertainty clear on her face - and he was getting nervous for her, brows knitting together, his face dropping into a frown. "Veronica-"

    "Are you going to the Fling this Friday?"

    And Eddie gaped at her, his mind racing, struggling, desperate to try and make sense of what she'd asked - since when did Eddie J. Munson ever go to school dances? He shook his head, even laughed a bit in disbelief. "I wasn't planning to," he'd answered - why did she care to know if he was going? God, just the thought of being there, watching her dance with someone else, a stranger's arms holding her close- "Why'd you ask?"

    ""S a dumb question, just forget it." she mumbled, and he'd felt sharp barbs of pain embed themselves in his chest at the way she'd deflated at his response.

    "What was dumb about it?" He leaned in close to her, eyes wide, darting between her own, her silence gnawing away at him - should he not have said that? Had he been too blunt with her? "Hey, don't get all quiet on me," With but a moment's hesitation, his hand trailed over hers, his touch soft, poking at the tips of her fingers - a bold move, even for him. "What was dumb about your question?"

    "Nothing, I…" She let out a heavy sigh, her gaze falling to her paper. "I was just curious."

    Eddie gave her a hard look, his hand closing over hers, pressing, squeezing. "You're a shit liar, y'know."

    "I'm not lying." Her sights narrowed, her mouth falling into a frown, and she pulled her hand away, fists clenched white atop her lap. "I'm not."

    He rolled his eyes, shook his head, frizzy hair moving about his shoulders. "What's that thing El always says? Friends don't lie?"

    "Munson, I'm not lying!"

    "You're lying by omission." He'd finally caught her; she sunk into her seat, arms folding atop her chest as she stared at a chipped edge at the far end of the counter. "Same thing."

    It took her more than a few moments to respond, to gather her courage, collect her thoughts as to form something even semi-coherent. "It's just… I was hoping that… that you'd come with me." As she picked at her nail in distraction, she missed the way his mouth had fallen open, the crimson heat shooting its way upwards over his face nearly fluorescent in color. His palms began to sweat, his legs shaking, and he had to force himself to stay focused on her words. "I don't want to go by myself."

    "Veronica, I…" It was all he'd managed to say, his words pressed - stuck - as his traitorous voice all but abandoned him.

    She shook her head. "I-It's fine, though… I'll just ask Steve-"

    "Hold on - let's not do anything drastic," Despite the fact that the man had arguably - certainly, obviously - become his closest friend, there was no way on God's green Earth he was letting her go to what would surely be the biggest social event of the academic year with Steve Harrington. "I never said I wouldn't go."

    "But, you-"

    "I said I wasn't planning on going - not that I wouldn't." He moved his chair closer to her, giving her arm another nudge. "Guess I'll have to go to one of these things eventually, right?"

    At the way she beamed, at how her chest filled with relief, her cheeks bright, eyes gleaming, Eddie nearly felt the need to squint against her blinding radiance as one does with the sun. "You would do that for me?" Her voice was quiet, hesitant, as though she hadn't - couldn't have - believed what he'd said. He nodded, adjusting himself in his seat.

    "Yeah, why not?" He leaned back, folded his arms behind his heated neck. "Guess it wouldn't kill me to go to one dance."

    Veronica nodded at his answer, pen in hand as she turned back to her assignment. "Okay," she'd answered in a quiet - meek - voice, but Eddie could hear the happiness behind her words, see her giddy anticipation in the way she swung her feet underneath the counter. "Okay, yeah, that's… that's good. Great…!." He shook his head and let out a chuckle, finding his pencil once more.

    "Perfect - now could you help me with this?" He slid his page close to her - a believable excuse for wanting to be near her, to look over what she was sure to write in the margins. "I've been staring at this thing for, like, fifteen minutes and I still can't figure out what the Hell a prepositional phrase is."

    "C'mon, Stevie - you're my only hope."

    Eddie leaned bodily against the counter at Family Video, hands clasped together as he pleaded with Steve to help him - he certainly wasn't above begging when the situation demanded it, his own pride be damned.

    And, Hell - if this didn't warrant a bit of groveling, what did?

    "Only hope for what?" Robin's voice rang out; she walked from the employee office toward the front of the store with a heavy box of returned videos clutched in her arms. "Which universe are you saving this time, Steve?"

    The man rolled his eyes, but he bit at the inside of his cheek to keep his smile in check. "He needs a suit."

    "For what, a funeral?"

    Steve graciously took the box from her, already moving about the racks to return them to their places. From behind a rather risqué cardboard display of Brooke Shields, he called out, "Eddie's taking Veronica to the Spring Fling on Friday."

    "You are not!" Robin gaped in disbelief, her voice rising two whole octaves with  mounting excitement, fingers splaying wide as her hands slammed onto the counter. "You asked her out?"

    "She asked me." the metalhead hastily clarified, already tugging at the ends of his hair to try and quell his nerves at actually having agreed to it. "And it's not a date!" At Robin's deadpan look, he continued, "She doesn't want to go by herself, so she asked me to tag along."

    "Sounds like a date to me, man." Steve chimed in, his answer doing nothing for the butterflies soaring through Eddie's stomach, fluttering up into his chest, wings beating in time to the pounding of his heart. Had Veronica meant it as a date?

    "It's not. I'm just her… escort."

    "Sounds dirty."

    "Oh, really?" Eddie crossed his arms atop his chest, leather stretched tight over his shoulders as he leaned away from the counter to better look at Robin, his eyes narrowed in offended annoyance. "Do tell, and what progress have you made with Vickie?"

    He barked out a laugh at the way she flushed a girlish pink, grumbling as she moved away from him, practically shoving Steve out from behind the display as she took his place among the cassette boxes.

    "Come by the house later, I think I got a few things that'll fit you." Steve said, popping open his typical box of Thin Mints. "You know what she's wearin'?"

    Eddie gave the man a blank look. "Uh… A dress?"

    "The color, dingus!" Robin shouted, still hidden behind the tapes.

    "Shit- I should know that, shouldn't I?" He paled, the sight of him so upended amusing to Steve in a perverse, gloating sort of way - they'd always poked fun at him whenever he was nervous for his dates. "A dude's supposed to match his girl, right?"

    His girl?

    Since when was Veronica his girl?

    And Robin was quick to respond, "So it is a date-"

    "It's not a date!" Eddie hadn't meant to raise his voice, but having his heart on the table was rough enough without Robin's merciless teasing. Steve rounded the counter, a sympathetic, gentle sort of look on his face as he patted Eddie on the shoulder - it was a look Eddie's seen him give the kids countless times, pulling it out whenever they needed a bit of comforting. Turning them away from Robin's general direction, he asked,

    "You want me to call her?" Steve kept his voice quiet, calming, just as Eddie needed something to ground him from his terrifying freefall. He nodded, blushing to the roots of his hair, suddenly too warm in his jacket as he watched Steve move back behind the counter, dialing the number he'd already ascribed to memory - carved into his heart would've been better-fitting, but who's to say?

    Eddie floated around the front desk, moving about anxiously, tugging at his fingers as he tried to pick up pieces of Steve's conversation with Veronica - the man had given quite the believable story, that Robin had struck out with Vickie and had asked him to be her date instead, and that he wanted to know what she'd be wearing so that they didn't accidentally show up in the same thing. A smart lie, smooth, practiced. And when he hung up, the sound of the phone hitting the plastic receiver made Eddie yelp, his hands flying up to his chest.

    "W-What'd she say?" he managed to ask, his voice cracking - why he was so nervous to find out about a color, he'd never know.

    "Lilac."

    "Lilac?"

    "It's like a baby purple. Cute choice, it'll go great with her eyes-"

    "I know what lilac is, Buckley, thank you." Eddie groaned, dragging his hands down his tired face. "I need a tie, right? Does the rental place have those?"

    "They do-" Steve started, only to be distracted by the sound of the door ringing - a customer had finally walked into the store, their first one in hours. Steve gave Robin a look, and the girl quickly scurried to help them find the movie they'd been searching for - something with Julia Roberts. Steve turned back toward Eddie, his voice almost at a whisper as he continued, "Just give my name and they'll give you a discount. You'll probably have to buy the tie, though - they only do rentals if you get the whole set."

    Eddie nodded, trying to retain this otherwise alien information: give Steve's name, get a discount, buy the tie.

    To his chagrin, Steve continued, "Look, man… Will you be alright?"

    Eddie's head snapped up to look at him, finding again that warm, gentle look - and it stung, how unconvincing of an answer he gave in return.

    "I… I don't know." He let out a quiet sigh, lip caught between his teeth as his gaze grew distant, his errant mind already beginning to drift. "I know it won't mean anything, but… Christ, I wish it did-"

    "You don't know that-"

    "Oh, please." Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, digging deep into himself to dredge up old, familiar insecurities. "Like she'd ever ask me out. She just didn't want to go alone."

    "Yeah, but she asked you." Steve pointed out, and his words planted a seed of hope somewhere in the depths of Eddie's blackened heart. "That's gotta mean something, right?"

    "She planned to ask you next."

    "Still asked you first, though."

    The metalhead nodded, thanked his friend yet again for the help, clinging to his words like a lifeline as he climbed into his van. His hands were tight around the steering wheel, leg bouncing, and he couldn't help the grin stretching across his lips, a blooming heat taking root inside his chest at having finally been somebody's first choice.

    Eddie was pacing.

    He'd arrived at Veronica's house a whole thirty minutes before the time they'd agreed upon; having driven up her street, he sat in silence, hands clung painfully to his steering wheel as he tried to calm the haphazard drumming of his heart. He was cold, he was sweltering, he felt giddy, frightened, nauseous- With a defeated sigh, he pulled himself from the safety of his van, and he wiped the sweat from his palms against the smart black suit pants Steve had lent him, all while his pulse continued to somersault, light-headed as he'd finally gathered the courage to ring her doorbell.

    Lorraine had been the one to answer, dressed in yet another floof-trimmed robe - a vibrant lime-green this time, reaching down nearly to the floor, her hair pulled together with a shocking red scarf. "Eddie? Glad to see you!" she exclaimed, pulling the nervous man in close, kissing both his cheeks. "You lookin' for Roni? Oh, don't you look gorgeous!"

    The suit had fit him better than expected, the dress shirt he'd borrowed from his uncle still crisp and white; the tie itself had given him little issue, but he'd agonized over the shade with the rental store clerk for hours. His hair was pulled back, away from his shoulders and knotted at the base of his neck - and Eddie floundered under her praise, face bursting red as he pressed a hand to the back of his head, his smile bashful as he replied, "Thank you, ma'am-"

    "Mom?" Veronica's voice filtered down from the staircase, and the pair turned toward it - Lorraine, with a smile, and Eddie with his stomach plummeting to his feet. "Is that Eddie?"

    "Yeah - and you're keeping him waitin', babe!" Lorraine shouted back, hands at her waist as she turned back toward the young man sweating bullets at her front door. "I swear, she's never been so picky with her hair before… Took me hours to get it the way she wanted-"

    "I'll be right down…!" Veronica called; they could hear her moving about upstairs, the distant clack, clack, clacking of her heels echoing off the hardwood floors - and it was all Eddie could do to keep from collapsing into a full-blown panic, the blood draining from his face as though he'd opened a tap.

    It's just Veronica. It's just Veronica. It's just-

    Eddie swore his aching heart must've burst through his chest at the sight of Veronica descending the staircase - a princess, a goddess, a literal vision in… well, lilac.

    The dress hung from her shoulders in the most delicately-arranged layers of tulle he'd ever seen, the light seeming to shimmer between the frills and gathers; it was form-fitting around her waist, gathered together with a large, silken bow. Her hair - ebony waves that seemed to flow in an endless cascade down her back - was pulled behind her, held in place with a bow matching the one on her dress. Her makeup, although applied sparingly, only made her all the more radiant.

    Robin had been right - the color seemed to make her eyes glow as they landed on him; Eddie swore he saw the faintest of blushes grace her cheeks, and the smile she gave as she reached the final rung of steps nearly sent him to his knees.

    "Hi." Veronica was the first to speak, her voice… breathless as she stood before him, taking in the full breadth of his outfit.

    "Christ, you're an angel." Eddie's mouth - his stupid, stupid mouth - had spilled forth the words before he could even think to stop himself, and he nearly dissolved into a puddle as Veronica's blush deepened, her smile turning shy as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

    "Oh, aren't you two just adorable!" The moment was torn asunder by the sharp flashing of a camera, Veronica sent staggering back a step from the blinding light, Eddie's hand shooting out to keep her upright and steady.

    "Mom…!" she'd hissed, a glowing warmth washing over her at the feeling of Eddie's hand at her back, solid and firm, her stomach in knots as Lorraine pushed the two closer together.

    "One more picture…!" the woman exclaimed, and the pair just barely managed to smile before the shot was taken. "Oh, your first high school dance! And you both look so beautiful…!"

    "Mom… Mom, we're gonna be late-" Grabbing Eddie - and wholly oblivious to the way he was having an existential crisis over the sudden realization that they were holding hands - she'd managed to pull him to the door before Lorraine took another picture.

    "Alright, alright, go! Have fun!" the woman said, her send-off loud and cheerful as she waved at them from the open door, her robe billowing in the cool evening breeze. "And if you'll be home late, call me!"

    Eddie helped Veronica into his van, his hand tingling all the while as he moved back to the driver's side, pulling himself inside before slamming the door shut.

    "Ready, sweetheart?" he asked, his smile lopsided, yet sincere all the same, and Veronica nodded, the stars hung in her eyes as she looked at him - and Eddie was more than happy to pretend that they were shining just for him.

    To say that their entrance into the Hawkins High gymnasium caused quite the stir was a monumental understatement; Veronica looked like a dream, walking on clouds as she beamed at the metalhead beside her, pulling the eye of every man in the room and the silent, seething ire of their partners. Eddie looked every bit the gentleman no one believed he could be - handsome, put together, mature, and with Veronica clinging to his arm, they were officially the couple for the evening.

    They stuck to each other, neither willing - wanting - to be apart for very long. They had arrived early, the dancing reserved only for later in the night, so they stood near the punch bowl, Eddie having gotten them both something to drink.

    It had barely been fifteen minutes since they'd arrived; thinking back, they were surprised they hadn't heard anything sooner - the rumors, the gossip, the scathing lies meant to tear and quarter them both. With their backs against a wall of stacked bleachers, the voices filtering through the seats reached them loud and painfully clear.

    "Can you believe he's here?" One voice hissed.

    "I swear to God, he's going to ruin our night." Another added, mocking and cruel.

    "Who're you talking about?" A third chimed in.

    "Who else? The freak."

    Veronica felt a heated, vermillion anger begin to rise within her, the plastic cup clutched in her hand cracking from the force of her grip as she continued to listen to the unwelcome conversation.

    "Did you see his date?"

    "She’s that whiz kid, ain’t she? Veronica, I think. What's he doing with her?"

    "You think he bribed her or somethin’?"

    "I bet he threatened her with his demon shit! Probably scared her into coming, honestly."

    Her breathing quickened, growing shallow with unabashed rage - they couldn't have been more wrong.

    "God, why is he even here?"

    "I wish he'd just leave - he's ruining our dance."

    "Least he could do is spike the punch…"

    She slammed her cup against the table, her fist trembling as she'd had enough - enough of their horrid taunts, of their snide comments. "Eddie-"

    Turning to look at him, Veronica felt her heart crumble and shatter - his head was hung low, his sights lost somewhere in the depths of his half-empty cup, his eyes rimmed pink from the force he'd been expending to keep his tears at bay. His shoulders were hunched forward, the hand holding his drink pressed tightly to his chest. She caught sight of the faintest quiver of his lip, of the way he’d taken a sharp inhale through his nose, cleared his throat.

    He just looked so… small.

    "Eddie…?" Veronica took a step toward him, her hand gentle as she slipped it into his, her thumb brushing circles over his flushed skin. He finally looked at her, the apples of his face flushed; she noticed in an instant that his smile, tight as it was, didn't reach his eyes. It chilled her, and she wanted nothing more than to make it disappear.

    She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back - weaker, but it was better than nothing. "Hey, sweetheart." he croaked, his throat already tight, his voice hoarse and cracking with emotion.

    Veronica let out a sigh, her lush eyes clear as they bore into him. "Eddie, do you want to leave?"

    He was quick to shake his head. "N-No, you… You were so excited to come-" His stammered excuse lasted longer than it should have - to her, he shouldn't have bothered making an excuse at all. Still, she let him ramble, still holding his hand, grounding him, settling his scrambled nerves as he scrubbed the heel of his hand over his forehead. "Let's just stay, alright? I-I don't mind-"

    "Eddie." Her voice cut cleanly through his, and his breathing all but stopped as she took yet another step toward him, their arms pressing together. "Forget this. Forget the dance," she told him, her tone serious. "Do you want to leave?"

    She watched as his gaze fell to the floor between them, his lip gnawed between his teeth as he nodded ever so slightly, his brows drawn together, face aflame with undeserved embarrassment as she led him out of the room, unaware of the eyes trailing their hastened escape…

    It was too early to go home, they'd decided, the night still too young and pleasantly warm to end so abruptly; for lack of a better place, Eddie had driven them to Sattler Quarry, parking the van near the cliff's edge as to look out onto the abyss, the moon's reflection bright and gleaming off the still water.

    They sat together, silent as neither were sure of what to say, of what needed to be said. Eddie anxiously twisted at his rings, hair falling loose and free about his shoulders - he'd pulled it from its knot the moment he’d climbed into his van after leaving the dance.

    "Why do you let them talk about you like that?" Veronica's voice was soft, quiet, but it settled in his stomach like leaden weights - he knew she'd be looking for answers. "I've heard the rumors, Eds-"

    Eddie shook his head, and he dragged a hand over his face before turning to look at her, the faintest hint of red still tinting his eyes. "I know, it's just… I'd rather them talk about me than the others, y'know? Dustin, Mike, Lucas… shit, even the older ones." His shoulders dropped, head falling against the open door of the van as he stared into the hands threaded atop his lap. "I can handle a few rumors - I'm used to it. But, they don't need to be goin' through this shit. If the entirety of Hawkins High dragging me through the mud means they all make it out of that Hellhole alive, then… then I'll take it. I don't care."

    At that moment, Veronica wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms, to comfort him, to hold him - how long had this been going on that he'd gotten used to it? It often slipped her mind that she'd only moved to Hawkins at the start of the school year; already so entrenched there, it felt as though she'd lived there all her life - and it was at moments like this where she was bitterly reminded that she didn't know much of anything. Pushing down the mounting urge, she conceded with sliding her hand over his, warm over cold, smooth over rough.

    "That's very… noble of you." she replied, unable to think of another word befitting him - it was noble that he'd been willing to throw himself to the wolves for his friends without a moment's hesitation.

    Eddie stared at their hands, the tightness in his chest slowly ebbing away under her touch. "Hey, I'm a homely knight, remember?" he said with a tired laugh and a smile that made her chest ache. "Got a reputation to keep up."

    "You're not looking very homely, though." Veronica said, her voice somewhere between truthful and teasing. "You clean up well, Munson."

    "So do you." His words came smoothly, belying the nervousness he felt at being alone with her. "I don't think I've ever seen your hair down like that. It's pretty."

    She blushed tenderly at his compliment, pulling her hand from his as she settled it atop her lap, tugging at the tips of her fingers.

    He watched her for a moment - admired her, but he wasn't about to tell her so. "Look, I-I'm sorry for ruining your night."

    "It wasn't your fault, Eddie-" Her head snapped up, eyes velveteen as she turned to look at him.

    "Still, you should have gotten that dance."

    She straightened, legs pulling up from where they'd been dangling over the edge of the van, her body twisting to look back at the passenger's seat. "We can still do that.” She’d somehow managed to flip herself around, nearly burying them both in an ocean of airy tulle and silken ribbon. “You got any music in here?" she asked, pointing to the glove compartment, not bothering to wait for his answer as she crawled over piles of blankets and pillows to reach the front of the van, the compartment door practically falling open for her as she dug through a thick stack of tapes.

    "Veronica, hold on-" For the life of him, he could only think of one tape he'd kept in that stack - and he didn't think he'd survive if she found it.

    Skimming through the titles, he counted the plastic clacks, his heart skipping a beat as she stopped at the eighth tape - because of course she would.

    It was hers, anyway.

    "Hey, this… this is mine." She ran her thumb over her faded handwriting, the once-pristine tape now faded and well-loved, the spools ground smooth from having been listened and re-listened to endlessly. How had he gotten it? She'd sworn it was gone forever…

    "You left it behind after you… After I blew up on you a while back."

    Her mouth opened with a gasp, her eyes wide as she exclaimed, "In the drama room!" She clutched the tape to her chest, voice bubbling with excitement. "And you kept it? Really?"

    Eddie felt his face burn as he nodded, head hanging low, his chin nearly to his chest as he tried to hide the scalding blush singeing the tips of his ears. "I swear to God, I meant to give it back-"

    "This is perfect!" Veronica slid the tape into the car's player; she flipped through the songs, stopping at Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper - the fourth song on the tape, he knew, having already memorized the track list.

    She crawled out of the van as the instrumental began to play, pulling him to his feet, and she’d led them a ways away from the vehicle to a flat patch of grass, her smile radiant as she looked at him.

    "Sweetheart, I… I gotta tell you, I got two left feet-" Eddie felt beyond awkward as he stared at her, unsure of what to do, of where to put his hands. As the music gently flowed from the van, catching in the balmy evening breeze, Veronica finally turned to face him; she straightened out the flounces of her dress, pulled back her hair, her face already beginning to pinken as the gap between them quickly disappeared.

    "Veronica-"

    "It's easy, alright? Here-" She picked up his hands, settling them at her waist; she could feel the warmth of his touch through the layers of fabric. Eddie looked at her, his mind wiped clean at the feeling of her under his palms, of being able to touch her. "Hold me, just like that." she explained, taking yet another step toward him, their bodies nearly chest to chest. "And I put my hands here…" As she slipped her arms over his shoulders, fingers lacing together, Eddie nearly forgot how to breathe, and it took her nudging his foot with her own to pull back his attention.

    "Follow the rhythm of the music." Eddie’s eyes began to gleam, his smile wide - that, he could do; as he picked up on the beat, she began to move them side to side in time. "See? Easy peasy." she said, face alight with glee at the way he'd shaken his head. "You're already a natural."

    "Yeah?" he asked, ducking closer toward her; neither were aware of - or, rather, chose to acknowledge - how the sliver of space between them was gone, of how they'd pressed into each other. Eddie's hands moved further behind her, settling at the small of her back, fingers splayed apart as he held her against him. "This isn't as bad as I'd thought it'd be."

    "You thought dancing with me would be bad?" Veronica's head fell back with a laugh, bright and bubbling, and Eddie's toothy smile nearly split his face in two.

    "Not with you - just in general, I guess."

    "You don't dance much?"

    "Angel, do I look like I dance at all?"

    She shook her head, silken hair brushing gently over his hands, nearly catching between his fingers. "I don't know… Could've fooled me." she teased, still giddy, the hands she'd kept behind his head sliding over his shoulders, trailing down to his suited chest.

    They were quiet for a while, the song changing into something slower, more intimate, as they continued to sway to the rhythm.

    "Eddie?" Veronica whispered, afraid the moment between them - whatever it was - would be gone if she spoke too loudly.

    "Hm?" came his hummed reply.

    "Thanks for coming with me, it's been… really nice." He'd pulled away just enough to look at her, eyes wide with disbelief.

    "Don't regret having asked me first?"

    And, to his shock, she shook her head, and he'd caught the way her face had burst the prettiest shade of blush he'd ever seen just before she'd pressed it to his shoulder, hiding herself away. "I-I was never going to ask Steve, I just… I don't know, I didn't want you to think I was lame or whatever..."

    Eddie nodded, heart soaring, the knots that now seemed to be a permanent fixture in his stomach slowly unraveling, and a blissful sort of peace washed over him as he tightened his hold around her, his head falling atop hers, cheek pressed to her hair as they continued to dance - and being there, with her in his arms, dancing in front of an abandoned quarry under the pale light of the moon… Nothing in his life had ever made more sense.

Tag List

@lulukings92 @i-me-mine @kaitebugg03 @enchante-em

[cryo-lily]

Whaat? Has Hell frozen over? I’m actually sorta posting more about pieces I’ve been working on?? Jokes aside, I know It’s been forever since I was able to get back into writing formally with life blindsiding me once again but I digress!

Thank you Thank you to both @pentacass & @magicallulu7 for tagging me in the WIP Wednesday/whenever or Six sentence Sunday thingy. Sorry it took me so long to get around to...Whatever this turned into!

Isadola’s brow furrowed slightly as she tilted her head back up to meet her partner’s gaze once more, “It really doesn’t bother you?” she questioned, trying her best to hide the apprehension in her voice.

“You’re just asking this now? Why not back on Yavin years ago when-” Lana caught herself as she felt a wave of fear from the miraluka in front of her. It became clear to her then that Isadola was still learning to overcome her fear of letting anyone, even herself, see her without her mask; of possibly seeing the unfortunate scars across her eye sockets that she tried so hard to keep hidden behind the mask she always wore.

Before getting a full response back Isadola began to tilt her gaze toward the floor once again before the Sith caught her gently by the cheek and stopped her, tenderly running her thumb across her cheek. What little fear on the matter Isadola still had quickly melted away with the loving gesture, before the pair leaned in for a short kiss before pulling away.

“Does that answer your question?” Lana briefly smiled back, catching the other mid-blush.

“I’m not going to start crying if that’s what you're after…” Isadola joked as she pouted slightly, pulling away from her lover’s grasp. Making it clear if she could joke about it she was already feeling better.

The Sith tilted her head slightly taking in the little details of the Jedi’s face before responding. It was no secret to her by this point of her love’s unique traits even for her species. It being extremely rare for any miraluka to still have any genetic trace of the eyes they once had. Regardless if it was questionable that having only tear ducts allowed her the ability to cry at all, but the scars across Isadola’s face conveniently stopping at such features allowed her to fill in the gaps of her limited knowledge on the matter. It was clear whatever was done to Isadola when she was younger, they wanted some answers to the matter of the species losing their eyes and the connection of their ability to see with the force.

It all mattered little to her in the long run, what was done to Isadola didn’t define the reasons she had fallen for the Jedi in the first place. Noticing the black-haired woman had turned away from her again in a vain attempt to compose herself, “What’s this the wise Barsen’thor herself caught off guard once again?” Lana couldn’t help but poke some fun to try and break through whatever that still lingered in her love’s mind that had kept her so reserved this whole time.

“Do not call me that.” Isadola bristled, “I hated the title when it was given to me back then, and I hate that it still follows me now… Besides I’m no longer a Jedi anymore than you are a Sith'' She crossed her arms slightly frustrated.

“Speak for yourself Darling.” an eyebrow slightly twitched with annoyance with her partner seemingly wanting to be stubborn today.

“Oh forgive my lord. My deepest apologies…” Isadola half mockingly held a hand to chest as she bowed slightly.

A sly smile crossed the Sith’s face when she heard the rare imperial accent slip through the mocking statement made towards her, “Your accent is slipping again dear.”

Isadola bit her lip nervously, clearing her throat before responding back, “Well I suppose it’s good thing it’s just us then. Not that anyone would believe you that it was real at any rate” She couldn't help the gentle smile that crossed her face as she took another step closer once again to her partner.

**I have no idea who to tag for WIP Wednesday or Six sentence Sunday, so I suppose just whoever reads this and feels like they want to do it as well!

[not-that-dillinger]

Pounce! [Rinzler has tackled Ed. Playfully or maliciously is up to you]

Maybe laughing at the evil dictator was not the right response, but Ed was hurt, emotionally, and physically from the past few hours, and honestly, at this point, it wasn't like he had anything to lose.

He escaped the death games, which was a miracle on it's own accord. And somehow he found Flynn, out in the barren wastelands beyond the city. Flynn pulled him into his sanctuary, and Ed never thought he'd be more relieved to see Flynn.

Until Flynn realized who he was.

"You're Dillinger's brat?"

Ed flinched. Which was more than enough of an answer to that question for Flynn.

Flynn did...something, and the next thing Ed knew, he was fighting a loosing battle with consciousness.

When he returned to consciousness, he was surrounded by orange programs, in the middle of the the barren wastelands. And then he was back on Flynn's (evil?) twin's ship.

"You're a slippery one, aren't you?" Clu said in amusement. "Don't take it personally," Clu said. "You're just... bate."

Besides him and Clu, there were the two guards that had brought him up, the annoying bald guy with a visor, and the program the Ed could only assume was Clu's personal bodyguard, with the nearly pitch-black suit and blank, faceless helmet to match, who seemed to be growling (purring?).

Ed laughed. "I hate to break it to you, but you'll be waiting forever. He made it quite clear you'd be doing him a favor if you got rid of me for him."

"Ah. A shame. I'd hate to waste the resources... No matter. You'll make quite a spectacle in the games. It's not every day we get to watch a user fight."

Ed panicked. He couldn't go back there. He dropped to the floor to get away from his guards, then scrambled away. He'd barely taken a few steps before someone tackled him to the floor. He stared up into the dark, faceless mask of Clu's bodyguard, throat burning from the ignited edge of one of his discs millimeters from his throat.

For a second, he considered struggling, if only because having his throat slit here would be a mercy compared to going back to the games. He panted from the effort, straining under the program's weight as he pinned him down.

Clu chuckled. "You don't like games? Well, I'm sure we can find some other use for you."

Ed held very still, his rapid breath fogging on the blank, black mask staring at him, listening to the click of Clu's boots as he paced behind him.

"I've always wondered if it would be possible to rectify a User," Clu mused. "But we won't be visiting the Rectifyer for another millicycle. And I can't just leave you idle until then. You've proven you'll try to escape...."

Clu paced behind him, clearly savoring the anticipation while Ed anxiously awaited the verdict on his fate.

"I suppose you can be Rinzler's new toy until we reach the Rectifier."

[iovetecchou]

also… um… posting a perv!jouno oneshot tomorrow!! it’s over 5k words so buckle up 🫡

[beesinspades]

me after finishing my second vashwood short fic which I said I was writing as a warm-up to my one-shot: [creates a new doc for a third short fic]