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moonchildreads · 1 year ago

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small town

Chapter 23 - Cum on Feel the Noize

IN THIS CHAPTER: Yearbook messages, unlikely friendships, and Corroded Coffin puts on a show [13.8k]

WARNINGS: mentions of dead parents (eddie's mom), child neglect (not very graphic, eddie as kid), underaged drinking (no one gets drunk), low self-worth

A/N: i know. i promise you, i know. but i did say i was never gonna abandon this fic, so if you didn't believe me, that's on you, buddy. blame my job for my two month absence - three new people joined my team and one of those left last week, it's been hectic. this is an extra long chapter as a sorry for making you wait for so long. i hope you are all okay and still interested in my dumb little story, we have a lot more to go before we say goodbye. <3 (btw lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

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Girls, rock your boys We’ll get wild, wild, wild

Monday, June 9th - 1986

The last Monday before graduation was Kyle Foster’s most anticipated day of the year; not because it meant that school attendance was officially an afterthought for most of the school’s population, but because it was the day the overpriced yearbooks he had been working on all these months were ready to be picked up, their pages waiting to be filled with doodles in colorful pens and silly stickers. He was particularly proud of this year’s edition, with its green leatherette hardback cover and bright photos printed in glossy paper, everything on them carefully arranged by the Yearbook Club with evident care and love for their craft. For a few hours, Kyle got to feel like he was hot shit. Teachers congratulated him and his fellow club members for their wonderful work, people he’d never talked to before in his life asked him to sign their yearbooks, and the basketball team kept patting his back in the hallways in between classes to thank him for the double spread with pictures of them lifting their championship trophy. Life was good, but even though he was enjoying his surely short-lived popularity, there was only one person Kyle was particularly looking forward to seeing. As faith would have it, he found that exact guy leaning against his locker waiting for him between third and fourth period, a yearbook under his arm and a piece of minty gum in his mouth.

“Hey, man,” Eddie greeted, pulling him into a bro-ey side hug that didn’t suit his personality in the slightest. “Nice work.”

“What’s up, Munson? Heard you’re finally leaving this place.”

“Yeah, about damn time,” the tall metalhead laughed, and Kyle thought he’d never seen him carry himself with such levity before. “Wanted to thank you, y’know? I mean, I know I kinda bribed you to do it but you came through for us and went above and beyond with the design and everything, so, thank you.”

“Ah, it was nothing, dude. Couldn’t ruin the yearbook by giving your club a shitty spread,” Kyle downplayed his work, but they both knew he had enjoyed the secret assignment.

“Well, then. Would the artist care to sign his masterpiece?” Eddie joked, extending his yearbook to Kyle with a jet black pen tucked into it.

Kyle nodded, surprised by the request, and went straight to the blank pages at the back. From what he could see, no one had signed it yet. He realized then this was Eddie giving him a definitive olive branch, whatever feud they’d had over his little debt more than ready to be buried in the sand and thoroughly forgotten. He quickly penned a generic “have a good summer!” message at the top corner, slowing down while writing his name when he felt Eddie’s hand slip something into his front jean pocket. Ah, there it is, Kyle thought, smiling to himself as the weight of the small weed baggie Eddie had promised in exchange for his rule breaking could be felt through the rough fabric. He gave the book back to his newest acquaintance before opening his messenger bag and retrieving his own, shocking Eddie with his silent offering. Kyle was not only accepting his olive branch but returning the gesture, and so Eddie signed his name in a little unoccupied corner, adding a smiley face with devil horns under it for good measure.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Foster,” he said genuinely, tucking his trusty pen into his back pocket.

“Likewise, Munson.”

“We look so fucking badass,” Gareth said, eyes stuck to himself holding a knight’s helmet under his arm in the Hellfire section of the yearbook.

“I know, right?” Jeff said, giddy. “Kinda wanna get it framed. You think they’ll give us copies if we ask?”

The Hellfire Club was enjoying a peaceful lunch outside, the day still perfectly warm despite the constant clouds that perpetually obscured the sky over Hawkins, Indiana. The older boys were doodling on each other’s yearbooks, laughing about bad portraits and accidental funny faces belonging to classmates, while Dustin and Mike quietly muttered to one another at the head of the picnic table. They looked like they were arguing about something important but no one else seemed to have noticed - if they did, they were giving them space to resolve it on their own. Pretending like she wasn’t eavesdropping while she wrote a heartfelt message in Donny’s yearbook, Dottie listened carefully, worried about Dustin who seemed to be particularly distraught at Mike’s disinterest in cooperating with him.

“I’m just saying, aren’t you tired of acting like you’re still upset with him?” Dustin asked.

“I’m not acting, I am pissed off,” Mike huffed. “I don’t get why you aren’t. He cut us off and he’s never coming back, get it through your head.”

“Well, maybe he feels like we cut him off. Have you even tried talking to him since Spring break?”

“No, why would I?”

“Mike,” Dustin was nearing his breaking point.

“What? Did you?”

“Yes!” he threw his hands in the air. “I called him the next day because I’m not an asshole!”

“If you talked to him, why isn’t he here then, huh?” Mike asked, icy. “Why is he still hanging out with them?”

“I said I called him, not that I talked to him,” Dustin grumbled. “He wasn’t home, he… he was at a party with the jocks- Look, all I’m saying is that I feel like shit, okay? I think we’re all being idiots right now and we should talk about it. This is just like what happened when we found El and-”

“This is nothing like what happened with El. He was just scared-”

“We were twelve, Mike. We didn’t know what we were doing, maybe- maybe he was right and we should have been scared! And maybe he shouldn’t have to be the one to always apologize first!”

“He ditched us!”

“Oh, grow up,” Dustin said, getting up from the bench with his yearbook in hand and hurrying to catch up with a redheaded girl who looked about his age.

Dottie watched how Mike gathered his things and disappeared into the cafeteria without saying goodbye, giving off moody teenager vibes to anyone who dared to cross his path. Meanwhile, Dustin was now animatedly chatting with his mystery friend near the doors - the girl he was talking to was signing his book and rolling her eyes at something he was saying, a shy but still clearly fond smile on her face. Dottie felt like she’d seen her before somewhere, but never talking to Dustin. She seemed nice, if a little sassy. I guess that’s why she’s friends with Dustin, she thought.

“Really? You got him a sweater? In June?” Jeff’s laughter brought back her attention to the table: she quickly doodled a little daisy next to her name at the bottom of her message and gave the yearbook back to Donny.

“He’s always wearing sweaters at the office, okay? And also, it’s not like he’s gonna grow two sizes before Winter starts,” Gareth defended himself. “It’s still gonna fit him in a couple of months.”

“What are we talking about?” Dottie asked, leaning her head onto Eddie’s shoulder as he stole one of her apple slices.

“Father’s Day. Gareth got his Dad a wool sweater.”

“It was on sale!”

“What did you get for your dad, then?” she asked Jeff.

“New slippers. His old ones were falling apart.”

“Very thoughtful. You?” she turned to Donny.

“Nothing yet. I kinda wanna get my Dad a funny shirt but I haven’t seen any good ones around. D’you think it’s too late to get one printed?” he asked at large.

“Oh, Eddie bought a cute one the other day!” Dottie said conversationally, looking up at the long haired boy from her place on his shoulder. “They had a bunch of graphic shirts at that store near Melvald’s, right?”

“On Mulberry? Sweet, what did you get?” Donny asked, munching on some grapes.

“Found this ugly thing with a brown Care Bear at the front that says World’s Best Grandma,” Eddie said, half a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Thought it was funny.”

“You’re gonna get your teeth kicked in if you wear a Care Bears shirt in public, dude,” Gareth snickered.

“Well, good thing I’m not gonna be the one wearing it then.”

Father’s Day was historically somewhat of a weird day for Eddie. When he was a little kid and still hadn’t developed a mouth filter, other moms at the park or strangers at a store would sometimes see him wandering around unsupervised, think he was lost, and ask him where his Mom was; he’d always reply with a simple “oh, no, my Mom is dead”, like the answer wasn’t absolutely devastating to hear coming from someone who hadn’t learned how to tie his own shoes yet. Like clockwork, they’d all sputter out an awkward apology, feeling sorry about unknowingly asking a young child about something so painful like losing a parent at such a tender age. A couple of times some of them went so far as to offer to buy him a snack, as if that could distract him from the tragedy of his Mom’s untimely death and, in turn, make themselves feel better about being nosy. Eddie, however, didn’t mind the questions. He liked telling people that Maureen was dead, because he learned very quickly that those were the only times people saw him as someone to take care of; just a little innocent boy having to grow up without the woman who’d loved him most, instead of shunning him as soon they inevitably found out he was Wyatt Munson’s devil spawn.

Another thing Eddie learned very early on, was that his Dad didn’t care about Father’s Day, mainly because most of the time he didn’t even care to acknowledge he had a son unless it was useful to him. And so, after the second year in a row Wyatt threw into the trash can the crafts Eddie had done for him at school without so much as looking at them, the drawings stayed in his backpack and the treats the teachers gave to all their kiddos to gift to the most important men in their lives got hidden in an old shoe box underneath his bed. There they waited until the older man passed out on his couch with a beer in his hand, and the littlest Munson got to eat them in secret without anyone calling him a pig for smearing chocolate all over his face and fingers. No, Father’s Day had always been a weird day for Eddie - at least until he moved in with Wayne.

The first Father’s Day Wayne and Eddie spent together came after almost eight months of living together. There had been a Halloween, a Thanksgiving, a Christmas, Eddie’s 9th birthday, and a Mother’s Day spent along with Grandma before that, but Eddie’s little stomach still churned with the thought of Wayne dismissing him on a special occasion like Father’s Day. He quietly waited in bed after the sun rose, ears perked up for any noise coming from the living room but the minutes ticked by and Wayne didn’t get up, busy catching up on some much needed sleep after a long week at the plant. The youngest Munson impatiently crept along the hallway until he reached his Uncle’s side, kneeling on the carpet next to his fold-out bed and observing his chest go up and down with each breath he took.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie whispered, but the older man didn’t so much as flinch. “Uncle Wayne,” he tried a little louder, softly shaking his arm.

“Huh?” Wayne opened his eyes, startled to find his nephew’s tiny fingers wrapped around his forearm. “What’s going on? You okay, Ed?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, wild curls bobbing along with the movement. “I- I made something. At school.”

“Yeah? What d’you got there?”

Eddie lifted a piece of paper, the sun filtering through the moth-eaten curtains helping Wayne read along. Happy Father’s Day, said the handmade card written by a teacher and decorated by his nephew, each letter colored inside with a different crayon. Wayne’s heart sank when he realized he’d forgotten what day it was. He didn’t even know which hole Wyatt was currently being kept in, but he guessed he could call his Ma and ask her about it if Eddie wanted to pay his Dad a visit. Or at the very least, he could take the kid to the post office to mail his shitty excuse of a father a letter he most likely didn’t give a damn about. Wyatt hadn’t called once since he’d gotten himself locked up, and Wayne tried not to think too much about Eddie stiffening up whenever the phone rang when he first moved into the trailer with him. He didn’t want to do it, didn’t want to have jackshit to do with his little brother anymore but he’d do it anyway even if he knew it was a bad idea, because Wayne Munson would have walked barefoot to the end of the world if it made Eddie happy, and God only knew that that boy deserved a small mercy for once.

Wayne peeled the card open curiously and felt his chest tighten up when he saw how wrong he’d been. Inside there was a crude drawing of two figures, one bigger than the other one: it was him and Eddie, standing on bright green grass, a big yellow sun with a smiley face at the upper left corner of the page, and a tree with juicy red apples to the right side. The figures were holding hands and Wayne was wearing a trucker hat - the same blue one that was resting on the kitchen counter next to his keys. At the bottom right of the card, written with the nicest calligraphy Wayne had seen from his nephew yet, was a simple I love you in purple crayon.

“You drew this for me?” Wayne asked, trying to get his emotions together.

“D’you like it? Miss Mullins gave us Hershey’s Kisses too,” he lifted a little paper bag that looked like it had been squished in transit. “I’m sorry I ate one without asking. I wanted to know what they tasted like, but I can buy you more! I have money left over from my birthday-”

“That’s okay, Ed. You can have as many as you want if you brush your teeth after,” the eldest Munson sat up tiredly and pulled his boy from the floor into a hug. “Thank you for the card. You’re very good at drawing, y’know that?”

“Miss Mullins says I’m good at art and music,” Eddie beamed. “And sometimes Math too but I get distracted. She says my reading’s not very good though.”

“You’re a smart boy, just keep practicin’ and you’ll get better,” Wayne said, feeling his nephew’s body sink into his arms the longer he held him. “Hey, how ‘bout you go get ready while I take a shower, huh? We can go get pancakes at Benny’s.”

“Really? Can I get whipped cream on mine? And chocolate chips?”

“You can get whatever you want, boy. Go on, go get dressed,” the older man ushered him down the hallway towards what used to be his bedroom and locked himself in the bathroom for a little privacy.

Wayne cried in the shower that day, much like he’d done after Thanksgiving dinner, when Eddie said he was thankful he got to live with him, even if it was just for a little bit. He got Wyatt to sign away his parental rights before Christmas came around after that. Wayne stuck the card to the fridge door with a carrot shaped magnet and drove himself and his nephew to Benny’s where Eddie ordered chocolate chip banana pancakes that Wayne ended up eating half of after the 9-year-old’s tummy became too full to keep going. Upon returning home, they spent the rest of the day watching cartoons and practicing Eddie’s reading during the commercials. When the littlest Munson fell asleep on the couch after the sun had set, his energy finally depleted, Wayne helped him put on his pajamas and tucked him to bed, stopping to kiss his curly head before he retreated back to the living room for a nightcap.

“Good night, son,” he’d said, turning off the lights, and for once, Eddie didn’t go to sleep wishing he was Wayne’s, because he knew he was and Wayne knew it too.

“You got Wayne a World’s Best Grandma shirt for Father’s Day?” Donny said, amused. “He’s gonna think you knocked someone up.”

“Of course not,” Eddie scoffed at him like he’d just said the stupidest thing ever. “He’d think I knocked someone up if it said World’s Best Grandpa, but it doesn’t say that, does it? Therefore, funny shirt.”

“You were there with him and you let him buy it?” Jeff looked at Dottie, whose cheeks felt like they were burning upon remembering Wayne’s resigned attempt at a Birds and The Bees talk two weekends prior.

“I… I thought it was funny too,” she admitted sheepishly.

“You two are spending way too much time together,” Gareth shook his head. “When did you even go shopping?”

“Last week after band practice,” Dottie said, mischief in her eyes. “Don’t tell my Dad if you see him because I told him I was at yours all afternoon so he wouldn’t snoop around and find his gift.”

“What did you get him?” Donny asked.

“A bunch of candy and a book. The guy at the store recommended it, he said it was pretty new. It’s called Ender’s Game, I think?”

“Oh, I read that one,” Jeff said, frowning.

“What, is it bad?”

“No, I think your Dad might like it," he shrugged. "But you know me, I don't like military shit.”

“How could we forget about you being Mr. Pacifist,” Gareth poked fun at him goodnaturedly and Jeff shoved him gently in return.

“Hey, speaking of band practice,” Eddie said, lips curling upwards as he leaned into Dottie’s personal space. “You think your Dad's gonna let you come to The Hideout tomorrow?”

“On a school night? Keep dreaming.”

“Oh, come on, no one’s even taking attendance anymore,” he pressed on.

“I’m pretty sure Mr. Russell took a nap in class today,” Gareth said, spreading a rumor he’d heard about the old Algebra teacher.

“He did. I was there, I heard him snore,” Donny nodded.

“There you go, darling. Not even the teachers give a shit anymore. So, what do you say?" Eddie batted his eyelashes dramatically.

"You know I wanna go, I just don't think he's gonna let me. Can't you wait one more week? He promised I won’t have a curfew anymore after graduation," she bargained.

"You say that like you don’t already know we’re gonna ask you to come next week too," Gareth said, grinning. “Besides, what kind of manager are you if you don’t come to all our shows?”

“Wasn’t aware I had signed any official contracts. Do I get health insurance?” Dottie joked.

“You get one box of kiddie bandages and we’ll drive you to the hospital if and only if any bones stick out,” Donny said.

“Wow, what a deal. I’m in,” she laughed.

“You’re gonna come then?” they all looked at her expectantly.

“Alright, fine, I’ll ask him. But if he says no you aren’t allowed to be mad at me because it’s definitely not my fault,” she finally relented.

“If he locks you up we’ll help you escape the tower, princess, don’t worry about it,” Eddie said, his breath ghosting the side of her head, and she shivered in anticipation for the new adventure that was to come.

James working past the time Hawkins High School let its students out had proven to be heaven-sent to the new couple looking for places to hang out without any prying eyes around. Eddie and Dottie were lying on her bed, hiding away from the world in her room, the radio on at a low volume playing Top 40 hits. Van Halen’s Why Can’t This Be Love was setting the perfect mood for Eddie to kiss his not-yet-girlfriend stupid - their movements still shy and exploring, neither of them rushing to get ahead of themselves. In recent days, they had progressed from chaste and giggly pecks to something much more slow and romantic, making the most of their moments alone to make each other feel comfortable and loved. Eddie hovered over her, tummy pressed against Dottie’s while supporting most of his weight on his elbows, his hands free to gently caress her cheekbones and jaw between kisses, stopping every so often to look at her dazed smile if only to will himself to believe that the girl he was so in love with was as equally smitten with him as he was with her.

Dottie let her fingers wander up his arms, one of her hands tangling in his unruly hair and occasionally pushing stray curls behind his ears to get a glimpse of those deep chocolate colored eyes she adored so much. Her other arm sneaked into his t-shirt sleeve, nails drawing barely-there patterns on the back of his shoulder, making him hum like the stray cats at the trailer park when they let him pet them after being fed. The delicate white curtains swayed calmly, brushing against the pillows in the windowsill, the gentle breeze outside rustling the leaves in nearby trees. Everything felt so peaceful, warm, and cozy. She felt like she could spend an entire lifetime like this, with the boy that had swept her off her feet so thoroughly that she almost felt like she was floating whenever he was around.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Eddie asked in a soft voice, index finger brushing down the slope of her nose.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Mhm,” she smiled, fondly. “You’re so pretty.”

“You’re pretty. Beautiful. Gorgeous even,” he lifted his eyebrows and pouted, making her giggle at his antics. “I wanted to play a song for you tomorrow but the guys said it didn’t fit with the rest of the setlist.”

“Which song was it?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, curls tickling her. “I’m not telling you. We’ll play it in Indy.”

“I have to wait a whole month? That’s so rude!”

“It’ll be worth it, you’ll see,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her again, and she accepted his love eagerly.

The low rumble of a car pulling into the driveway burst their cozy bubble, Eddie groaning as his head fell forward onto Dottie’s shoulder, making her snort loudly. He scrambled off her bed and dropped himself on her desk chair, fingers dancing on top of her scented Mr. Sketch markers before settling on the brown one and lifting it up to his nose to smell the cinnamon embedded in the ink. She watched him with an oddly enamored smile on her face, like him sniffing her stationery supplies was the most charming thing she’d seen him do yet. He twirled a marker between his fingers before drumming with it once on her yearbook resting unassumingly on her desk.

“Can I draw something for you in here?” he asked, tapping the hardcover again with the cap of the marker.

“Can I write something sappy in yours in exchange?”

“Knock yourself out, darling,” Eddie smiled, pulling his yearbook out of his ratty backpack and tossing it onto her bed where it made a soft thud upon colliding with her comforter.

When James climbed up the stairs to greet his daughter after a long day at work, he found both teens deeply engrossed in their tasks: Eddie’s long hair was draped like a curtain obscuring his sketch from view as he worked steadily with his chewed up pencil while Dottie was lying on her front decorating a corner of a page with her colorful pens. James leaned onto the door frame when she looked up, gifting him the same smile she used to give him as a toddler when he picked her up from daycare.

“Yearbooks are out?” the eldest Burke asked, nodding towards the book in her hands.

“Yeah! Ed’s drawing in mine but look, we got a full page!” Dottie said, rising onto her knees to show him Hellfire’s spread.

James sat at the foot of her bed, glancing at the glossy pictures in front of him. He couldn’t recall Dottie being so excited about a yearbook before, but he supposed she’d never really been a part of any club at her old school and this was an important first for her. There was Dustin front and center, arms and legs bent like a lifeless puppet being held by strings, Erica’s hand poised in the air as if she was the one controlling him while Mike and Gareth lifted her up in a princess-like manner, a tiara glinting on her head and a school flag draping down her back. Jeff and Donny scowled at each other dramatically, engaged in a lethal fight that Jeff was clearly winning, his sword pressed to the middle of Donny’s golden scepter. But it was his own daughter and the boy that kept smelling markers before he put them to paper a few feet away from him that really caught his attention.

Eddie lounged on his throne with a fake skull in his hand, rings twinkling in the room’s moody light, and legs spread out like he was a despot king about to order someone’s head to be cut off. Dottie stared at the camera with a mischievous smirk, hands cradled around a crystal orb, looking like she knew something no one else did and was more than ready to drop a cryptic riddle that would ruin your entire life. They were playing characters, just like everyone else in the picture: Mike was the loyal knight, Dustin was the terrifying jester, Erica was the bratty princess. Except Eddie’s arm was curled around Dottie like she was his most prized possession, devotion noticeable in his seemingly innocent posture. He might have been the one sitting on the throne and she on the chair’s arm as his trusty advisor, but it was very much clear to anyone that stopped to truly look at them that even though he was the King, she had him wrapped around her finger. It shouldn’t have been a surprise - after all, since 1953 the song did say God save the Queen, not the King.

“It looks super cool, right?” Dottie asked, eyes shining. “Jeff wants to ask the Yearbook Club if we can get copies, I’d love to put one on my corkboard.”

“That sounds great, honey! It’s very theatrical,” James agreed, scanning down the list of names: Edward Munson - Chapter Leader, Donatello Andrea Vitale - Treasurer, Jeffrey Thomas Patton - Secretary… “Who’s Lucas?”

“Huh?”

“Lucas Charles Sinclair?” he asked. “His name is on the list but I don’t see him in the photo.”

“Oh, that’s Erica’s brother. He was in the club before I joined, right, Ed?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, lips tight. “He, uh- he quit before Spring break. Conflicting schedules.”

“Ah, that’s a bummer,” James nodded, knowing first hand how scheduling was the greatest enemy of a D&D party. “Why isn’t Erica on the list though?”

“She’s still in middle school so she’s not, like, entirely allowed to be in the club actually?” Dottie grimaced. “But Eddie thought she should at least be in the picture. I mean, I’m there and she’s known these guys for longer than I do.”

“She only joined a couple of weeks before you did,” Eddie shrugged. “But a member is a member, no matter when they joined.”

“Spoken like a true leader,” James smiled, flipping the pages to find the senior portraits.

He reached the B section and immediately found his daughter, her red knitted sweater barely visible, the picture cutting off just below her shoulders. She was smiling in it, yes, but she didn’t really look happy. She seemed nervous, perhaps even a bit apprehensive. Her eyes were dull despite the bright lights behind the camera, and the little dimple below the right corner of her lip that she’d inherited from her Mom was nowhere to be found. In comparison with the wicked witch that had been staring at him in the Hellfire Club’s group photo, this girl looked like a shell of herself. Empty. Lost. Scared. Two months had passed between the two pictures, and one more since the last one had been taken, and James realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her glow as much as she did every day now. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looked at her and wondered why he hadn’t done anything to prevent her light from dimming so much right in front of him. Bitterly, he realized the proper question wasn’t why he hadn’t done anything, but instead why hadn’t he ever noticed it had been dimmed in the first place up until that moment.

“I’m so proud of you, honey,” he muttered, pulling her into a hug and letting out a heavy sigh courtesy of his own inadequacies as a parent.

“You’re not gonna cry, are you? Because you’re gonna make me cry if you cry,” she said in a joking manner, tears already threatening to climb up to the surface.

“You’re just really big now and it sneaks up on me sometimes, that’s all. I’m getting emotional in my old age,” he laughed, turning back the pages to Hellfire Dottie - the happier Dottie. “Your hair looks really pretty like this.”

“Yeah. Feels more me, I think,” Dottie agreed. “I need to get the ends trimmed before graduation, though.”

“If it keeps getting shorter I’m afraid you’re gonna end up bald soon.”

“I’ll go to a salon this time, promise,” she laughed.

“Still can’t believe you just-” James did a cutting gesture with his index and middle fingers. “-went to town on it.”

“Wait, what? You chopped off your own hair? When?” Eddie asked curiously, reminding them both that he was listening to their conversation.

“I thought you knew about this!” Dottie said. “I had really long hair back in New York.”

“It reached the top of her jeans,” James added.

“No way! Why did you cut it?”

“I just needed a fresh start, y’know? New school, new haircut. It wasn’t that big of a deal,” she shrugged.

“Honey, you snipped it all off at the first gas station we stopped at on our way from New York. Almost gave me a heart attack when you came out of that bathroom.”

“You’re kidding,” Eddie stared at her in disbelief.

“Nope,” said James. “Had to take her to a hairdresser to even it out as soon as we got here.”

“In my defense, it didn’t look that bad. It was just… very layered,” Dottie said.

“You’re lucky you chickened out and didn’t cut it shorter or you’d be looking like a boy right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, I’m not a hair stylist. I’ll stay away from scissors and let the pros handle it next time,” she rolled her eyes at her Dad.

“Well, I’m gonna go get a shower,” James announced, returning Eddie’s yearbook to his daughter. “You staying for dinner, Ed?”

“No, thank you, sir, Wayne’s waiting for me. Just gotta finish this drawing and I’ll be out of your hair for the night,” Eddie said, lifting the book in his hands as if to demonstrate he wasn’t just wasting time.

“You’re never a bother, kid. You can stay as long as you’d like.”

“T-thank you, sir,” he said in a small voice when James walked past him and ruffled his hair affectionately as he left.

“Dad? Wait, hold up-”

Dottie launched herself into the hallway and caught up to her Dad when he was halfway through his bedroom door. She nervously looked up at him and James lifted an eyebrow, curious.

“Would it be okay if I went to The Hideout to see the guys play tomorrow?” she asked, chewing on her own lip.

“Honey, it’s a school night-”

“I know but the teachers aren’t even taking attendance anymore. And I swear I’m not gonna skip the next day! Please, I’ll be back before midnight.”

“Dot-”

“You know Jeff’s dad wouldn’t let him do it if he was coming back home at 3 am every week on school nights. Please let me go? I really, really, really wanna see them play.”

“Would you be riding with Eddie?” James sighed.

“Yeah, he’s Gareth’s ride. His drum kit doesn’t fit in Donny’s car.”

“Okay, you can go-”

“Thank you!”

“-but! You gotta be back by midnight, okay?” he said, stern. “I don’t care if the teachers aren’t doing their jobs anymore, school’s not out until Friday. You’re not on holiday yet.”

“I know, I won’t break the curfew, I promise-”

“And you can’t drink any alcohol either. If I have to pick you up from the station for any reason, you’re grounded until September.”

“I won’t drink a drop, Dad, I swear. I just wanna see the guys play,” she pleaded with doe eyes.

“Fine. You can go,” James finally relented.

“Thank you!” Dottie shrieked, hugging her Dad and shaking him in her excitement. “Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

“Alright, alright, calm down. Just be careful, okay? And call-”

“Call you if anything happens. I know. Thank you,” she kissed his cheek and ran back into her bedroom where James heard Eddie scream “fuck yeah!”, followed by a loud thump and bright laughter.

That night after dinner, Dottie sat on her windowsill looking at the inside of her wardrobe, mentally putting together an outfit that wouldn’t make her stand out like a sore thumb in the dingy bar. Jeans and sneakers are fine, Eddie had said when she asked him about it, but she knew the guys dressed up for their gigs, and she wanted to fit in. Maybe she should have asked her soon-to-be-boyfriend to lend her one of his band t-shirts, but then again, Eddie had a tendency to get grabby whenever she wore his clothes lately, even if it was just a borrowed sweatshirt when she got cold during a movie night. It was better to be lowkey about this; they were already pushing it a lot lately with the secret daily hangouts and the doing errands together thing. Borrowing his clothes in such a public event like his own band’s gig was as big a declaration of love as they came.

Yes, it was best to keep this under wraps, for the sake of all their friendships with the rest of the boys. She’d wear her own clothes to her very first Corroded Coffin show, and she’d be extra careful with her yearbook when she gave it to her friends at The Weekly Streak to sign. No one had to know that Eddie had drawn a very realistic looking arrangement of daisies on a corner of a page, along with an incredibly telling message that would be hard to explain if anyone read it. However, nothing was stopping her from letting the words he’d written in his usual chicken scratch form behind her eyelids as she let sleep take her under, a perpetual lovesick smile tattooed on her face.Thank you for believing in me, darling, he’d said. I love you now and always. Your Endearing Eddie.

Tuesday, June 10th - 1986

If there was anyone in Hawkins who had bad timing when it came to scheduling business transactions that happened outdoors, it was Eddie Munson. He was in such a hurry to sell most of his stash before he was due to start his first ever real job at Thatcher Tires the following week that he’d failed to account for the permanent drizzle that haunted Hawkins most of the time, and thus, had to move from his preferred selling spot in the woods to the back of the East classroom wing, his back pressed to the warm brick to shield himself from the droplets falling from the sky.

While he was busy earning much wanted cash so he could take his still-not-official-girlfriend out on a date to celebrate their graduation, Dottie and Gareth were lounging in his van, side door cracked open to let some of the day’s heat out. The almost empty parking lot looked menacing surrounded by a thick haze, a moderate breeze directing the drops of water to hit the van’s windshield in a comforting rhythm. Gareth was, as usual, being a menace. He was going through Eddie’s tapes, exchanging their cases to mess with his friend, and never letting a song reach the end before he was skipping forward to the next one. Dottie would have complained about it if she wasn’t so concentrated on her knitting, the summer baby blanket she was working on spread out over her legs. She was in the middle of calculating if the soft cotton yarn she had left was enough to finish the row she was currently knitting when Gareth turned around in the passenger seat to catch her attention.

“You excited about tonight?” he asked, glancing at the songlist at the back of a mixtape.

“Yeah, it should be fun! Though I’m not sure what I’m gonna wear yet,” she put down her needles and stretched in her seat. “Eddie said sneakers and jeans were fine, but I don’t wanna look lost, y’know.”

“Pick the oldest, shittiest clothes you have and you’ll fit in just fine. Most of the drunks in there go after work, it’s always a lot of plaid, jeans, and dirt.”

“You’re not selling this to me very well.”

“I don’t have to,” he grinned. “Eddie says jump, you jump.”

“No, I don’t-”

“Hey, there you are!”

She was about to tell Gareth off when Chrissy appeared from the mist, shielding herself from the rain by holding her cheer cardigan above her head. Immediately, Dottie slid the van door open a bit more so she could climb in, moving all her knitting supplies to her lap so the strawberry blonde girl could sit next to her. Gareth looked at both girls awkwardly and muttered a quick hello before turning in his seat again and busying himself back with the mixtapes.

“I didn’t know you knitted,” Chrissy said, thumbing the corner of the blanket. “This is so pretty.”

“Thank you,” Dottie smiled. “It’s a gift for my Aunt, she’s having a baby in a couple of months.”

“Aw, that’s sweet! Let me guess, a girl?” she said, pointing at the baby pink yarn.

“How could you tell?” Dottie said with good natured sarcasm. “Her name’s gonna be Rose so… pink for Rosie! It’s not very original but I’m hoping she still likes it even though she’ll be born in the middle of summer.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it. I used mine until I was in preschool, there’s no age limit for a good blankie,” Chrissy said, kindly. “I wish I could do creative stuff like this, it looks fun. I tried to learn to sew when I was younger but my Mom’s so not a good teacher. She made me cry once because I forgot to put the presser foot down.”

“I could teach you a few things if you want,” Dottie offered. “I’m not an expert, but my Aunt is, like, the most perfectionist person on the planet and she taught me everything I know so…”

“You’d do that?”

“Do what, teach you?” the blonde nodded in response. “Of course! We’re friends! And it’s a great skill to have, it comes in handy more than you think.”

“We’re friends?” Chrissy asked, eyes suddenly shiny.

“After everything you’ve done for- Chrissy, of course we’re friends,” Dottie said, grabbing the other girl’s hand.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathed out, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. “I feel so much better about asking you to sign my yearbook now, I didn’t know if I was being weird or not.”

“For future reference, we like weird here,” the brunette said in a stage whisper, leaning down to get her own yearbook out of her backpack. “Besides, I kinda wanted to ask you to sign mine too so we’re even.”

The girls exchanged books and quickly got to signing, aware that Gareth was pretending like he wasn’t in the same vehicle as them. He didn’t want to turn up the music and rudely drown their conversation, so he distracted himself by drumming on Eddie’s dashboard with two pens, wondering what on Earth had Chrissy done for Dottie that made her so thankful towards the cheerleader. Dottie grabbed her nicest black pen and found an empty space under Eddie’s message. He’d written Don’t be a stranger, Chrissy the Cheery (and thank you for the advice! See you at the wedding) next to a crude drawing in blue ink of a girl with a ponytail lifting one pompon and doing devil horns with the other hand.

After thinking about what she wanted to say to the cheerful blonde, Dottie settled on a nice simple message that was cryptic enough should anyone else read it, but also something that conveyed just how truly grateful she was for this new found friendship. Have a fantastic summer!, the note opened. Thank you for everything. Call me whenever! At the end, right next to her name and a little daisy, she wrote down her phone number. The word everything was underlined twice. When she gave it back to her rightful owner and saw the message Chrissy had written on pink ink on her yearbook, she let out a girly giggle. It was so lovely to get to know you, have a good summer! Let’s hang out soon, it read. Below, Chrissy had also written down her phone number. Both teens looked at each other with a knowing grin and hugged, not paying any attention to the metalhead who’d put them on each other’s path hopping onto the driver’s seat of his van, hair damp from the rain.

“Aw, aren’t you two cute,” Eddie said, grinning. “Did she sign it?”

“We both did,” Chrissy said, returning the smile. “How were the sales?”

“Great! I’m selling my last bit on Thursday and then I’m keeping the rest for myself. A man’s gotta have his vices.”

“What a shame,” the blonde shook her head. “Hawkins is losing its nicest dealer to the workforce.”

“I’m the only dealer you know, sweetheart.”

“Because you’re the nicest one, keep up! I’m gonna have to buy from sleazy dudes now, ugh,” she said while she gathered her things to leave.

“You should have enough to last you until you leave for your pre-season with what I sold you today,” he frowned, concerned that every time Chrissy bought from him, the amounts she asked for kept increasing.

“Yeah, maybe,” she said and shrugged, sliding the door van open and hopping off. “See you around, guys!”

The three of them watched her jog towards the school with her cardigan draped over her head again, her petite figure losing definition in the haze. Eddie clicked on his seatbelt - a habit he’d picked up since he started driving Dottie around - and pulled out of the school’s parking lot, winking once at the girl on his backseat when he put his hand on Gareth’s headrest to reverse into the open road. Dottie rolled her eyes at him, picking up her knitting needles once again. Gareth stared at the school building until it disappeared from sight before he turned to his friends.

“I still can’t believe Chrissy Cunningham is not only super nice to us freaks, but also smokes weed,” he said, making both of the other teens laugh.

James Burke did not think that moving to the town he had grown up in as a quiet wallflower would result in an exponential growth in his daughter’s social life, but truth be told, he wasn’t exactly upset about it. Before packing up her whole life and facing the Big Drive to Hawkins, Dottie had never once gone out for the night on a weekday, much less during the school year. But James had agreed to it, and Dottie had promised to be home before midnight, which brought them to the living room where the tired father sat in his armchair and amusedly watched his daughter pace the entirety of the room swinging her arms around with each step she took.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the carpet, honey.”

“Good. This carpet gives me allergies.”

James chuckled, following her with his eyes as she padded her way to the window once more and peered outside yet again despite knowing that she would hear Eddie’s van first before seeing it, as per usual. She sighed dramatically and resumed her pacing, glancing at the clock on the wall anxiously. Mildly embarrassed upon noticing that her friends were still perfectly on schedule, she took a few deep breaths and tried to get her emotions in control before their arrival.

“You know you can call me if you get there and want to leave, right?”

“I know, Dad,” she rolled her eyes at him. “Stop offering to pick me up from places, you know Eddie’s gonna drive me back whenever I ask.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t exactly comfort me as much as you think it does, honey. That van looks like it’s gonna die on him at any second.”

“Oh, come on,” Dottie argued. “He loves that van, he takes good care of it.”

“The fumes that come out of that thing say otherwise, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt since he’s gonna be a mechanic and all now.”

And speak of the devil, thought James, as the aforementioned smoky van appeared down the street while playing loud metal music. Dottie hurried to grab her keys and a jacket, ready to bolt out of the door and get to the damn dive bar already, but her Dad insisted on walking with her outside to say hi. Eddie and Gareth waved at them as they approached, lowering the music so they could greet the older man properly.

“Good evening, boys,” James said, hands on his hips in a typical Dad pose but with a friendly smile on his face. “How are we feeling? Excited for the show?”

“Hell yeah!” Gareth said, grinning. “We’re gonna kill it, the setlist is awesome tonight.”

“You let him add an Anthrax song to it, didn’t you?” Dottie laughed knowingly, sliding the side door open and climbing in.

“We’re closing with Metal Thrashing Mad,” Gareth looked at her with an expression of triumph.

“Sounds like it’s gonna be a riot,” James chuckled and turned to his daughter. “Have fun, but don’t get into too much trouble. Midnight, okay?”

“I’ll get back here by 11, sir, I promise,” Eddie said, nodding once.

“Midnight’s okay, Ed,” the eldest Burke said, putting his trust in the young man’s hands; Eddie nodded again in understanding. “Have a good show!”

The man patted the side of the van as a goodbye and headed back inside, privately enjoying how much he could make Eddie squirm with just a few well placed words. He liked Eddie, he really did - he was polite, unapologetically himself, resourceful, kind. He loved his friends and wore his heart on his sleeve. And he loved Dottie, that much was clear to literally everyone that surrounded the teens. James didn’t know what the situation was like between them at the moment, but he could tell something had shifted based on recent interactions he’d witnessed. In his opinion, there seemed to be some sort of deeper connection between them since that fateful party they had gone to just a handful of days earlier, but James had to admit, albeit a little reluctantly, that even though he had been on the lookout for signs of a romantic relationship developing, not a lot had truly changed.

Eddie and Dottie had always been unusually close even upon first meeting, that was an undeniable fact about their friendship. It was hard to pinpoint if anything romantic had blossomed between them when Eddie had been calling her darling since the very first moment he laid eyes on her, or when Dottie gravitated towards him at any given moment, even in rooms filled with other people. Their hugs, while always having lasted longer than a regular friendly hug, were chaste and innocent, their main purpose always to comfort and to reassure. Eddie’s hands always stayed above her waist, not even so much as accidentally dropping to her hips in James’ presence, and any compromising position he’d found them in was at best playful, certainly never inappropriate.

It wasn’t that James was particularly concerned with the nature of the teens’ relationship; after all, he had been a teen himself once, he wasn’t an idiot. If anything was bound to happen, they weren’t going to ask for his permission beforehand. No, his worries were more about the knowledge that Dottie and Eddie dating while having the same group of friends could make a potential fall out incredibly painful for both of them, and the poor man was just desperately trying to protect his daughter as best as he could. He already felt like he had failed her once, he couldn’t let her down again. And yet, despite being cognizant of the dangers ahead, James found himself trusting Eddie because if Dottie trusted him, how could he not trust that his daughter knew better than her own Dad did about the matters of her heart?

“Okay, be honest, guys. How do I look?” Dottie asked, shoving half her body between the front seats so they could look at her better at the first stop sign.

“You look gorgeous, princess,” said Eddie.

“Like a toddler,” said Gareth, at the same time.

“Gareth, what the fuck,” Eddie deadpanned, swatting at his friend’s chest.

“What? She’s lucky they don’t ask for IDs,” he said, doubling down.

“You don’t tell a girl she looks like a toddler when she dresses up, you asshat,” Eddie said. “See, this is why you can’t get a girlfriend, you know nothing about women.”

“How would you know any better, you don’t have a girlfriend either!” Gareth retorted, making Eddie snort. If he only knew…

“You two bicker like an old married couple, did you know that?” Dottie said, settling back on her seat.

“That’s because we are,” Eddie joked, grabbing Gareth’s hand and giving him a kiss on the knuckles, making his friend yank his arm out of his grasp while the older boy laughed loudly.

Everyone was in good spirits as they journeyed to The Hideout, but whether she wanted them to or not, Gareth’s words made Dottie pause. Both boys had told her dark, casual clothes would be okay when she’d asked them for advice, so she’d gone with a striped dark blue and white t-shirt and black jean overalls, her trusty Reeboks matching Eddie’s keeping her feet comfortable. She glanced at both of her friends through the rearview mirror and compared her clothes to theirs, but that would never be a fair fight: they were dressed for the stage, not to be a spectator like she was. Gareth was wearing a loose shirt with the sleeves cut out, leather bracelets with spikes decorating each wrist along with his usual rings perched on his fingers. He had a flannel tied at his hip and his jeans were incredibly distressed, something that his Mom hadn’t been too happy about when she found out he’d ripped them himself on their driveway with a sharp rock. Eddie sat next to him, tapping on the steering wheel lightly as they talked about the setlist, looking like a vision straight out of his wildest rockstar dreams in acid wash denim and chains. Admittedly, his eyeliner did look terribly smudged, but he more than made up for it with enthusiasm and a giddy grin etched permanently into his features.

There was no comparison and there would never be one. Dottie simply didn’t fit in. They were undiscovered rockstars, masters of their craft who had poured blood, sweat and tears into a yet unfulfilled dream, and she was just the high school friend who was lucky enough to meet them before they blew up. She tried to be excited for them, to join in on the fun, but all she could think about was how Eddie was destined for bigger things than to be chained to an elementary school teacher and the white picket fence she had always dreamed of when she was living in a tiny apartment with her Dad back in New York.

Unaware of her inner turmoil, Eddie pulled into The Hideout’s parking lot next to Donny’s car, Gareth excitedly hollering out of the co-pilot’s window to get their friends’ attention. Donny took one last drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the side, and hurried to meet them along with Jeff, hugs and pats on their backs exchanged before immediately busying themselves unloading both vehicles. Dottie was quick to mask her discomfort by helping out; a task that forced her to stay focused was always a welcome distraction for her worried brain. The boys chatted loudly, their tired grunts filling the eerily empty parking lot as they moved heavy amps and Gareth’s drum kit into the bar through a service door to the side of the building, leaving Dottie to trail behind them carrying cables and drumsticks.

“Hey, you okay?” Jeff asked, taking a mic stand from her hands, back pressed to the metal service door to keep it open.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m just nervous,” she lied, her smile failing to reach her eyes. “Never been to a place like this before.”

“No one here bites, I promise,” he nudged her shoulder. “And if they do, we’ll fight them for you. You’re with the band, you’re a VIP now.”

“My heroes,” she said, pretending to swoon.

The small exchange might have gone unnoticed had Eddie not become finely attuned to the girl’s emotions even when she wasn’t sharing them out loud. Something wasn’t right, he was sure of it, and he was determined to find out what it was before their set started. He wanted her to enjoy this, to see him doing one of the things he loved most, to let her into a space that up until now had been sacred for him. The Hideout’s little stage wasn’t the Madison Square Garden, but with her in the crowd, he felt like it was the most important show he’d ever play in his entire life.

“I really like your shirt,” Dottie was telling Donny about his Iron Maiden tee, holding his bass for him as he searched for a pedal that had gotten lost in the back of his car. “The black makes your eyes pop out.”

“But I need my eyes,” he whined jokingly.

“You know what I mean, dumbass,” she laughed, softly hitting his leg with her sneaker.

“I was gonna wear something else actually but I couldn’t find it,” he said, frowning at his car’s messy floor. “I have this Halloween shirt- aha!”

“Did you find it?”

“Yep, it was under the mat,” he climbed out of the car and pulled his pants up higher. “My ass wasn’t showing, was it?”

“I would never let you show your ass in public,” Dottie said, giving him back his bass. “We got everything? What do we do now?”

“Yeah, we just need to set up and-”

“Hey man, can you start without us?” Eddie asked, sitting on the back of his open van and patting his pockets for his cigarettes. “Need her help with something.”

“Uh- yeah, sure,” Donny said, looking at both of them suspiciously and noticing how Dottie appeared to be as equally confused as he was. “Don’t take too long.”

Donny hoisted his bass case over his shoulder and disappeared into the building, throwing one last look at them for good measure. While Eddie busied himself lighting up a cig, Dottie shifted her weight from foot to foot nervously. What on Earth could Eddie want her help with right now? Was he… was he going to tell her to leave? Had he realized this was no place for her and didn’t want anyone to see she was with them? Or with him?

“Come ‘ere,” Eddie said, widening his legs so she could stand between them. “You gonna tell me what’s going on or do I gotta tickle it out of you?”

“You know I don’t like tickles.”

“Then I guess you’re gonna have to spill, don’t you, princess?” he flicked some of his ash to the side and wrapped an arm around her hips to bring her closer. “What is it, huh? My eyeliner’s that bad you can’t even look at me?”

“No,” she muttered, lips curling into a resigned pout. “You look pretty.”

“I look like shit. People might confuse me with a raccoon.”

“A pretty raccoon,” the right corner of her mouth lifted into a tentative smile and he took that as a win.

“If it’s not my eyeliner, what’s bothering you then? You wanna go home? ‘Cause I’ll drive you back right now if you want me to, just say the word.”

“No, no,” she quickly shook her head, curls bouncing around but her eyes were still stuck to his knees. “I wanna see you play.”

“Baby, I know something’s upsetting you. Talk to me, come on. We’ve been good at that lately,” he pleaded, thumb sneaking into the side of her overalls and under her shirt to rub comforting circles on her skin.

“It’s just-,” Dottie huffed, crossing her arms and curling on herself. “I feel weird, okay? I look like an idiot.”

“What are you talking about?” Eddie frowned.

“Ed, I’m wearing overalls.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, and? You look like a fucking rockstar and I’m some random toddler following you around. I don’t fit in, Gareth’s right.”

“Okay, first of all, fuck Gareth,” she opened her mouth to argue but he beat her to it. “No, no, fuck Gareth. He doesn’t know shit about fashion, never trust anything he says, okay? He used to wear polos every day before he met me, you knew that? He can’t judge anyone. And I love your overalls. You look adorable in them.”

“But I don’t want to look adorable!” Dottie stomped on the ground, which only furthered his point. “You look so badass, why couldn’t I look like that?”

“You wanna look badass? I’ll give you any of my shirts next time, I promise,” Eddie pulled her closer until she uncrossed her arms and rested them on his shoulders. “But don’t listen to that dumbass. I love how you dress. I really fuckin’ do, babe.”

“Yeah? The toddler thing gets you going?” she asked, melting under his earnest eyes.

“Nah, that’s all you, darling,” he stretched himself up to kiss her gently. “You get me going. And you always fit in with me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Nope, come on, you gotta say it.”

“Eddie.”

“I’m waiting,” he sang.

“You’re insufferable sometimes,” she rolled her eyes, but this time her smile was much more genuine. “Fine. I fit in with you.”

“Always.”

“Good,” he took one last drag of his cigarette and threw it away, lifting himself up to close the van doors and direct into the bar. “We’re gonna talk about this later though. I know you’re still thinking about it.”

“It’s scary how much you know me,” she mused, leaning onto his side for courage as they walked to the front door.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t pay attention to you?” he said, opening the door to let her in.

Boyfriend. He had called himself her boyfriend. They hadn’t discussed what they were yet; Eddie was adamant about asking her out properly on Graduation Day but it felt good to hear that he knew what he meant to her. That he wanted the same thing she did, even if her anxious heart got in the way sometimes. Dottie was so sure he’d get bored of her once he realized how truly boring she was, but failed to consider that in all their months together as friends, Eddie had learned to love their differences and cherished them deeply. Why would he want someone who was just like him? He was an idiot in his opinion, he’d hate it if she was equally impulsive, messy and brash as he was. She was soft where he was rough, logical where he was a dreamer, practical where he was ignorant. And in turn Eddie felt capable where she was inexperienced, bold where she was shy, and calm where she was nervous. Two puzzle pieces that are cut the exact same way never fit, and Eddie was confident in the knowledge that they were alike, yet different where it mattered the most. It was just a matter of time until she got to see things like he did, and he’d be damned if he didn’t help her get there faster.

“Dave! What’s up?” Eddie hollered as he approached the bar, a bald man with a bushy beard greeted him with a big smile.

“Hey, Ed! The guys told me the big news, I’m proud of you, kid,” Dave said, putting down his rag and a glass to pat Eddie’s back over the counter. “You brought a new friend today?”

“Thanks, man. Yeah, this is Dottie,” he introduced them. “Dot, Dave, he’s the owner - Dave, Dot. Treat her right, okay? She’s our manager.”

“No shit,” Dave laughed. “How did that happen?”

“I got them a gig in Indy next month and they offered me the job,” Dottie said, slipping onto a bar stool next to Eddie. “We should talk business sometime.”

“That’s my girl,” Eddie beamed, squeezing her hand before walking backwards to the stage. “Give her anything she wants, I’ll cover her tab!”

“So, you’re Eddie’s girl, huh,” Dave said, eyes glinting.

“I guess I am,” Dottie smiled, before her expression dropped in realization. “Could you- We’re not, like- The guys-”

“Secret’s safe with me, doll,” he winked at her. “I knew something was up when Ed started adding ballads to their setlist. Now, what’s your poison? On the house.”

“Would root beer be an acceptable choice?” she asked, cheeks burning under her skin.

“Depends. You want ice cream with it?” he threw his rag over his shoulder.

“I’ll never say no to a little vanilla.”

“Attagirl. I can see why he likes you,” Dave said, and disappeared down the kitchen door in search of a scoop of ice cream.

Dottie turned around in her stool to look at her friends happily setting up for their show, palpable excitement coursing through their veins. Gareth was hunched over his drum kit, tightening and loosening the skin until it was perfect while he heard the story Donny was retelling, Eddie laughing loudly and Jeff cringing while uncoiling a cable. They looked happy, barely controlled energy bouncing around the room much to everyone’s amusement. Two older men sat in a corner of the bar, mugs filled with frothy beer and a bowl of peanuts shared between them - they lifted up their drinks and smiled at her in acknowledgement when she glanced their way. Dave was funny, charming and a little bit kooky, all the right ingredients for a good bartender. He kept Dottie busy by telling her stories about every regular that was in the bar, and introduced her to the two men as “the boys’ boss, so no funny business with her”. Rudy and B.B. ate it up, calling her bosslady in all further interactions, asking her about their friendship with Corroded Coffin and telling her silly stories they had collected about her friends over their years as The Hideout’s only band with a permanent slot.

It was clear to Dottie that this was a family built on routine and comradery. They had nicknames for each other, knew about beverage preferences and medical conditions, asked about parents, wives and children. B.B. was all too glad to have someone new to show off the pictures he kept in his wallet, his five grandchildren looking up at Dot from the glossy paper as he shared names and little anecdotes about them proudly. When it was time for Corroded Coffin to finally start playing, everyone paid attention and even cheered when the first few notes of Black Sabbath’s Paranoid began. Dottie sang along to every single word that came out of Jeff’s mic, thinking about that very first time she’d seen them play in Gareth’s garage. This felt equally warm, homey, and handcrafted. A labor of love.

Corroded Coffin was a sight that begged to be seen. They were loud and unapologetic; they crooned to the outcasts, the freaks, the weirdos. Lee with his prosthetic leg and handlebar mustache, Rudy with his white hair and beer belly, Shonda with her leather vest and scary-looking motorbike parked outside. These drunkards were their very first fans, and they enjoyed the Tuesday night gig as much as anyone could enjoy first row seats to a Metallica show in a big arena. During a water break between songs, Lee asked for a Judas Priest song and the boys indulged him, Gareth immediately launching into a complex beat that made him break one of his drumsticks in half at the end. He looked the happiest Dottie had ever seen him.

The half hour show came to a close, and Corroded Coffin said their goodbyes with pure elation and sweat dripping down their faces. Dottie wanted to help them load everything back into the cars, but Shonda kept her busy and glued to her stool talking about New York and the best food places she had encountered on her travels. If Dottie recognized some of the mentioned spots as known queer hangouts she’d always wanted to go to but couldn’t because she was underage, she said nothing, but the knowledge only endeared the older lady more to her. When the guys had finished putting everything away, they surrounded Dottie at the bar and Dave presented them with a beer each. Yes, it was illegal to serve alcohol to minors, but no one cared. They’d earned those fair and square, and what was the big issue with a little toast between friends to the Hellfire Class of ‘86 who would be graduating in just a few short days?

“Since when do you go dry after a show, Ed?” Dave said, grabbing the bottle Eddie had pushed back into his hand.

“I’m driving her around tonight,” Eddie said, nodding towards Dottie who was lost in conversation with Jeff. “Her Dad might kill me if we get pulled over and I’m drunk, and I actually like being alive.”

“She’s got you whipped,” B.B. commented, making the rest of the older men laugh while Eddie’s ears burned red at the light teasing.

“Good for her. Someone had to do it at some point,” Rudy said, lifting his frothy beer to his lips, and truth be told, Eddie was more than happy to admit they were right.

Dottie was not expecting Eddie to pull over halfway between her house and Gareth’s after dropping him and his drum kit off, but it soon became clear that he wasn’t about to let her go to bed without talking about what had happened earlier. He was still a little jittery from the show, adrenaline starting to run off now that they were surrounded by the quiet of the night in a deserted street, truly alone for the first time all day. After reaching to click her seatbelt off, he helped her crawl sideways onto his lap, resting her weight half on him and half on the driver’s door, legs draped over the center console and stretching towards the co-pilot’s seat. Despite the fact that he’d just played a 30 minute set and still felt a little bit damp with sweat from his performance, he took the time to bask in the sense of calm that washed over him. This is the best part of my day, he thought, lazily pressing kisses to the side of her head as she played with his rings, a dazed smile on her face.

“I fuckin’ love you,” he whispered, pushing her hair behind her ear and making her squirm in delight when he pressed another kiss to her temple.

“I love you too. You’re my favorite rockstar,” she muttered back, nosing his cheek.

“You had a good time?”

“The best. Everyone was so nice.”

“They better be,” he said dramatically, lifting his hand into a menacing fist. “Or else I’d have to kill them.”

“Stop,” she laughed, arms wrapping around him. “I’m sorry if I worried you earlier. I was being silly and got too into my own head.”

“You gonna tell me what that was about? And don’t say it was about your overalls, because I know it wasn’t,” he lifted her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles gently.

“I don’t know, I guess… I was just thinking about the future, and-”

“Uh-oh. Is this it? Are you breaking up with me? Shit, I knew that old dog Rudy was gonna take you away from me.”

“Shut up,” Dottie slapped his chest lightly as she laughed and he pretended to be in excruciating pain, slumping against his seat. “I… I was just wondering if there’s gonna be a place for me, y’know? In your future? And I got upset thinking that maybe there wouldn’t be.”

“Why would you think that?” Eddie asked, uncharacteristically serious.

“I mean… I dunno,” she admitted. “You’re gonna be a huge rockstar and I’m just, like… your boring high school sweetheart that wants to become a teacher. Is that really what you want for your life?”

“Yes. I want you.”

“Eddie, I’m being serious.”

“Yeah, me too,” his hand came up to hold her face. “I’m not gonna become a rockstar, Dot. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

“You’re only twenty-”

“It’s not about my age. Jeff’s leaving Hawkins and he’s gonna be a fancy businessman with a- a fuckin’ pacifist non-profit org or whatever people do in West Virginia,” she snorted at his words and he continued. “Gareth’s probably gonna become the greatest studio percussionist in the world for all we know, and Donny has his family’s restaurant to take care of. We’re all going separate ways, and I don’t wanna do the rockstar thing without them. Like, that’s my band, y’know? I’m not gonna go solo, it’s all of us or no one.”

“I get that, I do but… I just don’t want to be the reason you give up on your dreams,” she admitted. “You’re gonna resent me if you do, and I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize that you are unhappy and you hate me.”

“I could never hate you and I’m not giving up on anything because of you, darling, I promise. Is it really that hard to believe that I want a normal, peaceful life with you?” he shrugged.

“But you hate normal.”

“No, I don’t. I thought I did but… I can’t be hanging onto a maybe forever, babe. I can’t do that to Wayne. I want to help him out, have a good job so I can pay for things around the house, move out before I turn 30. Give him back his goddamn bedroom, for fuck’s sake,” Eddie scoffed bitterly, thinking about his poor Uncle’s back after years of sleeping on that shitty fold-out bed. “I want to make his life easier. He deserves that much.”

“But you could help him out even more if you became a rockstar. You could- you could buy him a big house, and he wouldn’t have to work anymore, he could just retire,” Dottie pressed on. “Didn’t you want to get out of Hawkins? Travel the world?”

“Yeah, but I think I’d miss you too much if I was away on the road all the time. I’m already suffering about you going to Michigan and that’s only three hours away. I can’t get on a tour bus and not see you for eight months, you know I’ll die if you don’t kiss me regularly,” he joked.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t be right there with you on the tour bus if you asked?” she joked back but her voice was so, so earnest.

“Darling, I could never do that to you. I could never ask you to give up on a full ride scholarship for me, fuck. You earned that shit, you have to go and get your degree so I can brag about how smart you are to everyone I talk to.”

“But who’s gonna keep the groupies away from you if I’m not there?” she whispered dramatically.

“I’ll chase them out, let the guys have all of them. Got the best and only groupie I need right here,” he squeezed her to make the remnants of her insecurities go away before kissing her forehead.

“I’m not a groupie though, I’m your manager,” Dottie reminded him. “I’ll have you know, Dave and I are gonna discuss business soon.”

“Yeah? You gonna look out for us? Read all our contracts before we sign them?” Eddie played along, smirking up at her.

“I’ll get you moved from Tuesdays to Thursdays, you’ll see.”

“God, you’re so hot when you know what you want.”

“Eddie!”

“What, my girl is the smartest manager in the world and I can’t find that hot? Fuckin’ sue me then,” he laughed and leaned in to kiss her, feeling incredibly lucky about the fact that she chased his lips for more when he pulled away. “I’m being serious, though. I know you don’t believe me when I say I don’t want that rockstar shit anymore, and this is way too brave of me considering we haven’t even gone on our first official date yet, but… I dunno. I kinda really like the idea of coming back home after a long day at work and getting to hold you like this. I used to think having a normal life was so lame because I never had it and now it’s all I can think about.”

Eddie had told himself throughout his whole childhood that he didn’t want to live like his classmates. He didn’t want to have family dinners every night like they did, because it meant he would have had to eat vegetables like broccoli and carrots instead of whatever unhealthy snack he could make for himself while his Dad was out of the house for the night. He didn’t want to have perfect attendance at school, because he liked whenever he could sleep in until late before “going on an adventure” on Wyatt’s Good Days. He liked spending his summers with his Grandma, stuffing his face full of ice cream and pie, and he liked when Wayne had a few days off from his job as a trucker and returned to Hawkins bringing dumb trinkets he had probably bought at a gas station on his way home, but felt like treasures to the youngest Munson. Eddie had told himself he didn’t want anything more than what he had throughout his childhood, because Wyatt said whining was for pussies and for girls, and his son wasn’t either of those things, are you?

It wasn’t until Eddie moved in with Wayne that he found out he really liked carrots because they were unexpectedly sweet and that he didn’t like grapefruit because it was bitter. He didn’t skip a single day of school for a month and his teacher put a gold star next to his name on the wall. His clothes were now always clean, and he didn’t have to wash ketchup stains in the school’s bathroom anymore to hide them from his Dad because his shirt would be hanging from the clothesline the next day like the offending red splat had never been there in the first place. Eddie thought that living in a real house was bullshit, because he lived in a trailer now and the trailer park was fun. He could feed and pet the strays and go to the playground whenever he wanted, and the people who lived there said hi to him when they saw him collecting flat rocks to skip at the lake when Wayne took him fishing on weekends, and sometimes the old lady next door would give him a bite of watermelon if he asked nicely.

But now Eddie was 20, and he wasn’t scared of admitting he wanted more. He wanted a water heater that didn’t randomly die on him, and a bedroom without mold stains, and Wayne to have the privacy he so very much deserved after 12 years of sleeping in the living room. He wanted a garage like Gareth’s, a backyard like Jeff’s, and a loud but loving family like Donny’s. And whenever he thought about those things lately, he always ended up dreaming about lying on a big comfy couch after a hot shower with his sleepy girlfriend pressed to his side and the decadent smell of a roast cooking away in the oven. No rush, no worries. Just love.

“I think about it too,” Dottie said quietly, jostling him out of his cozy fantasy.

“You do?” he asked, surprised.

“I never had a house until we moved here, I’ve always lived in small apartments before. And it’s not like that’s a bad thing, because it isn’t! I’m really grateful I always had a roof over my head. But I used to dream a lot about having a house like my grandparents when I was younger, and… I don’t know. When I think about it now you are there too. I know, I know it’s a lot, we haven’t even, like, talked about-”

“No, no, that-,” Eddie said, an unfamiliar warmth spreading in his chest. “That sounds really nice, darling. Tell me more? About our future house?”

“Well… it changes all the time. When I see something I like, I add it so it’s always different,” she said, cheeks warm at his soft gaze. “Like, it didn’t have a front porch until I met you, but now I know I definitely want one.”

“Why did you add a porch when you met me?”

“Because you have one! I love it when we sit outside when it’s rainy, it feels really peaceful. And also I think it’s really cute that Wayne waits for you there sometimes. I… I kinda wanna do that.”

“You wanna wait for me to come home on our front porch?” Eddie asked, grip tightening around her waist.

“Mhm,” she buried her head on his neck, closing her eyes like she could see themselves in the future. “We should get a swing, I can make cushions for it. And plant fruit trees in the backyard.”

“We could set up the basement to host D&D nights,” he continued. “And a dog. We should definitely get a dog.”

“Yes. A big dog.”

“A big black dog, and we can name him Ozzy,” he smiled.

“Aw, I wanted to name him Bilbo,” she pouted.

“You can’t name a black dog Bilbo, that’s a name for a brown dog,” Eddie argued.

“We can have two dogs then, one black and one brown.”

“That’s too much, we need space for the kids.”

“K-kids?” Dottie lifted her head and stared at him like he’d just grown two heads.

“I thought you wanted kids?” he was confused.

“I do, I just… I didn’t think you wanted kids,” she admitted. “And we’re still so young, it feels strange to talk about that.”

“I mean, I definitely don’t want kids right now but maybe in like… five years-”

“Ten,” she said, in a tone that left no room to argue.

“Ten years sounds great. We could have kids in ten years, right? I’m not gonna be a loser by then.”

“Eddie, you’re not a loser,” she frowned.

“Wait until after graduation to make big statements like that, babe.”

“You’re not a loser. You’re the best rockstar mechanic in the world and Ozzy, the kids and I love you.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, wiping his face with his hand. “Princess, you can’t shit like that or I’m gonna ask you to marry me before our first date.”

“Ed?” Dottie said nervously; his hand fell from his face to her thighs and he looked at her. “Are we… are we moving too fast? We haven’t even been on a real date and we’re already talking about, like, marriage and living together-”

“We’re just goofin’ around, babe,” he said, grabbing her hand. “We don’t have to do anything until we’re ready. You gotta go to Michigan first and get your degree, and I have to move out of Wayne’s, we have time. I’m just, uh, putting my cards on the table early so you can yell at me if I start being stupid. That alright with you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s alright with me,” she smiled back at him.

“Besides, everyone at The Hideout knows you’re my girl now. That’s bigger than marriage - if we break up they’ll take your side.”

“Am I?”

“Huh?”

“Am I your girl?” Dottie asked, knowing the answer but still wanting to hear it from his lips.

“You know you are,” he pulled her into a kiss before singing softly. “My girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl… my girl!”

“You’re so silly,” she giggled, noses bumping in the dark.

“But I’m your silly. You’re mine and I’m yours, okay? So no more getting upset at whatever bullshit Gareth says. I’ll kick his ass.”

“It’s not his fault. My brain just hates me sometimes.”

“I’ll fight your brain,” he said, making her giggle again. “You’re It for me, darling. We fit in together. It’s just that easy.”

“Easy,” she repeated.

Eddie had told himself a lot of lies growing up, but the biggest one was that he didn’t want a normal, quiet life, because that was lame and he wasn’t going to conform to the system like everyone else did. He understood now that maybe, just maybe, having the most regular, happy, love-filled life he could get with his high school sweetheart turned elementary school teacher and a big black dog named Ozzy, in a house with a swing on the front porch, enough rooms for children that didn’t exist yet, and a basement where he could DM as many campaigns as he could think of, would probably be the biggest act of defiance he could do in the eyes of a town who thought he would never be deserving of the common luxuries everyone else got to have without having to fight for them.

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3

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mugeesworld · 2 years ago

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Hi there! I love your Zoro x chubby reader headcanons they made my day! As a thicc feminine person myself, I often get criticized for my body.

Could I please possibly get some headcanons of Zoro and what traits he would look for in a potential s/o, and what traits would make him fall head over heels for them/keep him. Thank you for your time. Keep rocking on!

Aww thank you so much! I'm so glad you like them!! The people that say stuff to you about being thicc are just jealous honesty. Plus size people are gorgeous🙏🙏🙏.

What Zoro looks for in a partner head cannons!

Zoro is a very laid back, go with the flow type person. He doesn't like loudness. Enjoys his quiet/nap time. So he would probably like a partner that is the same way!

I'm not just talking about someone that is very quiet and introverted but someone that is sorta ya know "chill". Not always jump off the walls. Knows how to use their inside voice. Someone that is layed back.

Now for personality. Like being bold or shy. I think he would like both!

I think he would like a bold person that's sorta cocky like him. Someone that is confident and speaks their mind. He would find confidence very attractive! He likes it if you know your worth. Cause dating someone sorta seemed boring to him. But having someone just as cocky as him would have it to where y'all can compete in random stuff. Always having silly little arguments. Sorta like him and sanji. Just minus the wanting to kill each other. He wants someone that can keep him on his feet.

But at the same time I think he would like someone that is shy. He finds it cute. Not like "small uwu bean" shy 💀😭. Like someone that gets flustered easy or stutters sometimes. He would like to tease you about it. But not so shy that they don't stand up for themselves. He would probably be annoyed by that.

He wouldn't admit it but he would like someone that would tease him or like bug him at times. Not to where it's like annoying. But just saying random stuff out of pocket. Or saying something like. "Oooooo your blushing" whenever you would give him a hug or something. Even though it makes him frustrated.

Body type? I honestly don't think he would care. To me zoro screams demi sexual. (Which means he has to become really close/ friends with someone before dating/getting sexual) he doesn't seem like the type of person to just walk by someone and think. "Damn they have a nice ass" I just can't picture it!

But that doesn't mean like flirting when y'all first meet is out of the question. He definitely has his limits.

But I do think zoro would be a ass/hip dips/waist guy. Like i think he would LOVE hip dips. Like resting his hands on them. It's just comforting and hot to him.

And another thing I think would just catch his eye and make himself drawn to you. Having chubby/soft cheeks. He would like to cup your face or just squish them. He just thinks it's cute.

Back to more personality wise. He would like someone that is a free spirit. Some that doesn't let stuff hold them back. Or doesn't get pulled down easily.

Another thing he probably wouldn't admit is he would like someone that is caring and will take care of him. Someone that cares about his health. Cause he works out a bunch. Sometimes pushing himself to hard and getting hella sore.

He would love for someone to like massage his muscles or fuss at him if he is working to hard.(he would act annoyed but he finds it cute that you care)

Someone to remind him to eat and shower or get enough sleep. Someone that will patch him up while fussing at him after a fight. Doing small acts like this makes him get butter flies.

Another thing I think he would look for is someone that stands out. Like how the way they dress. Or like their aura they put out. He is drawn to people that are different and special. He looks for stuff that makes them different from everyone else. Like a little quirk you might have. Just something!

It could be appearance wise too. Maybe something like freckles/a beauty mark/a scar on your face. Or a crooked nose. Or a cool hair style and tattoos. Or even a piercing! Just something special that others might consider odd!

He wouldn't like someone that is always scared or sad. Cause it makes him depressed. He wants to surround himself with people that are optimistic and out going. I'm not saying he wouldn't like you if you're depressed but he wouldn't let someone that is always negative!

It gets on his nerves hearing people constantly complain about stuff that can be fixed easily. It's ok sometimes but constantly is a big no no.

He would like someone that can handle his additude. Not someone that's gonna get overwhelmed cause he yelled or something. Cause that's just how he is. He's a smart ass that doesn't think before he talks. He needs some that can handle that. Someone that isn't very sensitive.

I hope you like this! This was sorta hard but it was fun!!! And remember that this is just what i think. I'm not zoro. I'm not Oda. So if you don't fit in to what I said that doesn't me he wouldn't like you!! Cause at the end of the day my opinion doesn't matter!!! Have a good day and thank you for requesting!!! ♥︎♥︎♥︎

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08theverysmallhuman · 8 months ago

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THANK GOD SOMEBODY IN THIS FUCKING FANDOM LIKES IGAGURI!!!!!!!!! OH MY GODDDD HE IS LITERALLY JUST A LITTLE GUY WHAT THE FUCK ARE HATERS SO MAD ABOUT!!!!!!! I thought the more recent scene with him and Isagi where he was given advice was incredible and I really hope we get to see more of him in future arcs still because he’s Isagi’s pal and first real rival!!! He’s silly comic relief yeah but he’s also genuinely likable and has a VERY heavy and real reason to be so driven and passionate to stick in Blue Lock! And I am SO happy seeing somebody else who likes him here FINALLY! FINALLY!!! THANK YOU

THAT MAKES WHAT. FOUR? IGAGURI ENJOYERS IVE SEEN ON HERE?? WHAT THE FUCK

FOR FUCKING REEEEAL !!!!! They're mad he's still in because it makes no sense well first of all he quite literally is established to not want to train if he doesn't have to and call him lazy and it doesn't make sense he's still in WHEN IN CANON he works hard enough to be good enough to run with the beasts blue lock is cultivating, to the point where he's actually straining his fucking body and injuring himself on equipment and throwing up???? Brother if you fall face first on a treadmill set to max you are not getting back on I don't know what to tell you. He's decided to train the thing he's good at, the same thing everyone else in the series is doing, the thing that Real Life Soccer Players accepts as an actual strategy and people are getting on his ass about it cause they can't fucking accept that he's a genuinely GOOD soccer player who's playing with actual superpowered geniuses

He's also like??? Really nice compared to some of these guys?? He talks a lot of shit but like it's comparatively tame and not really all that different from like regular team animosity? You got other people on this team saying some real out of pocket shit and you're on this guy's case about it ISAGI's ruder than this guy. He's genuinely happy for his friends when they reach a new level in their progress, he's comfortable asking them for advice and help with practice, he's literally isagi's hypeman on the field and he's cheering for every goal

It's literally just because they find him ugly there's literally no other reason. He's not even ugly he's bald but he looks fine dude he's literally living in a fucking temple what do you want from him. He might not even wanna look like this he very adamantly hates the thought of continuing to live in the temple let a man be

And yes his backstory is literally The most interesting one to me hands down I need to know what his home life is like I need to know his dad his mom his friends how he got into soccer in a reportedly strict shrine especially with his personality being like Super Not Buddhist, he prays to ask for stuff and not anywhere else, his jersey number is literally a reference to the 108 earthly desires Buddhists are meant to stay away from, that he specifically indulges in while he's away from home I wonder if he's used to being squished in a room with multiple people and that's how he finds such bizarre sleeping positions cause it's so open suddenly I need to know if he makes it out which he fucking better if he goes back I'm destroying all life on the planet let my boy go

Not even gonna get into the it shouldve kira argument I've said it a million times they only want him back because he's hot but kira was not fucking making it in blue lock . you want him to but he just fuckin wasn't maybe one day I'll get into it but you know in your heart of hearts Pretty Boy McSwaggy here was getting his fucking shit rocked

Igarashi Gurimu is a GREAT LIKEABLE AMD COMPELLING CHARACTER and just because he's not exactly bishie IT DOESNT MEAN HE'S A BAD PERSON?? Ive literally seen 'igaguri would be a pervert igaguri would be homophobic' he's literally one of the few people in blue lock who hasnt mentioned girls or romance bud. And my guy put up with shidou dude I think we're Fine

#blue lock #08.text #blue lock igaguri #08replies #the igaguri slander literally put me in this situation i was so confused on how he was in any way annoying enough to warrant all the hate #and now he's my special little guy #igarashi gurimu

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worldheadcanons · 2 years ago

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☆ miscellaneous stalker au canada headcanons!

starring. . . gender neutral reader and canada. warning for stalking (in general), general violence/murder mentioned, + nsfw in the last four headcanons.

author notes; live laugh love this little freak. he’s literally wild about reader and i ADORE that about him. he’s the type of guy to go “me and my partner don’t argue they bash my head in with a rock and i walk it off like a man.” he’s crazy.

matthew williams!

— matthew spends about an hour every day scrolling on his favorite shopping sites in search of things he thinks you’d like. he’s a smart shopper, if nothing else. he seems to know every secret coupon in the world. he really enjoys buying you cute clothing and trinkets he finds online. plushes, slippers, new satin pajama sets, sexy underwear, cat themed mugs, kitchen supplies to replace your old ones— god, not to mention the glorious food he delivers! it’s never more food than you need. it’s just enough so that you can eat your fill and still have a bit extra for later. it’s like having a sugar daddy, honestly. you occasionally feel bad for him and try to convince him to stop spending so much money on you, but williams manages to dismisse your concerns with ease. he lives and loves to serve you, he says.

— if you identify with one of the binary genders then he’ll eventually start calling you a ‘good girl’ or ‘good boy’ over the phone. it’s not something he’s stubborn about, so if you ask him to stop he will. it’s nothing really sexual as he mostly uses the pet name to tease you, enjoying the way you roll your eyes or huff at his words. matthew never dishes out something he can’t take, so you deciding to mirror him isn’t an issue. in fact, he takes pleasure in it, grinning to himself in the bushes of your front yard. you’ll tell him to be a ‘good boy’ and turn himself in to the cops and he’ll simply laugh into the phone. “y/n,” he’d coo, “i can’t turn myself in. you know you’d miss your good boy too much if i went to jail.”

— he’ll occasionally show up at your place of work depending on whether or not your job deals with the public. if you’re something like a fast food worker or a cashier, then you’ll definitely be seeing him from time to time. he’s clever enough to not let you hear his voice off the phone. he’ll either avoid speaking entirely or put on a completely different voice to the best of his ability. williams likely won’t even do anything related to your work, mostly sitting or standing around and pretending to be busy on his phone or, if he’s in a store, pretending to browse for something. he watches you, occasionally taking pictures when he can. when he gets home, matthew prints them out, adding them to a physical scrapbook of semi-blurry photos taken of you. pictures from your front yard.. from your back door.. in the store.. in the parking lot.. in your own bedroom…

— one day he actually sends you a text. when you block the first number, williams texts you again through a different one. the text message comes after he sees you going out the house with another person. he takes offense to the mere sight of you with someone else and it’s here where he starts to show his more violent side. it's a jarring wake up call for you. you couldn’t help but begin to think of him as someone different.. someone romantic instead of creepy. someone almost cute instead of murderous. how silly of you. you slid your phone into your pocket but his message continued to echoe softly in the back of your mind. ‘have fun tonight. if i catch their hands anywhere near you, they'll end up in your mailbox by morning ❤️’

— he stalks you on any and every open social media account you have. instagram, twitter (you tweet the strangest things, matthew loves giggling at your musings), tiktok, tumblr, facebook— hell, he’d look through myspace if he had to. whenever he’s bored at work he starts browsing through everything he can. he just wants to feel connected to you. it’s not enough to have a small picture of you taped to the inside of his briefcase. besides, williams wants to stay updated on your life and scrolling through your social media definitely helps with that.

— on the more sexual side of things, god does he love to masturbate. the mere sound of your voice is enough to make him hump into a pillow like a dog, whining and groaning softly to himself while still trying to seem present on the phone. not to mention the countless blurry pictures of you that are now covered in his cum. he doesn’t want to waste his clear shots of you, matthew would much rather keep those clean. he just wishes he could get his hands on you and show you how much of a degenerate you’ve made him into. it’s a real shame you don’t get to hear the way he groans your name as he cums all over the place. it’s always a messy finish with him, even though he finds the clean up process to be embarrassing. williams never learns his lesson.

— just let him into your house, just once, and he can make your dreams come true. he wouldn’t mind being dominant or submissive, most of the time he just wants to see you get off. he’s the type to kiss the ground you walk on and then fuck you like an animal all in the same night. matthew would be rough with you but still clearly worship you and your body. williams adores giving and receiving praise during sex. he dreams of the day you’ll tell him he’s doing a good job, really, it would mean everything to him to hear that he’s pleasing you. in return, he’d coo into your ear that you’re the only one in the world for him. the only one he’d ever want or need. every inch of your skin would be covered in gentle kisses after he fucks you. he’s a god at aftercare and would make sure you feel like royalty before even thinking of settling into bed beside you.

— he really wants to see you covered in his cum one day soon. positioning doesn’t matter to him, he just wants to see you completely wrecked. williams wants to see your legs shake and your tight little hole quiver. he wants to see you beg for more even though you’re so fucked out already. god, the things you do to him. you’ve made him into such a sick man.

— matthew enjoys giving and receiving oral sex. he’s great at it and even if you’re not the best he would help you get better. he’d have you cum into his mouth over and over until you’re twitching with ecstasy and he’d never even lift a finger. all williams needs is his mouth. his eyes would look up at you with a mischievous glimmer, almost as if he was wordlessly teasing you for enjoying this so much.

#hetalia #hetalia x reader #hetalia x you #hetalia headcanons #canada x reader #matthew x reader #matthew williams #hws canada #stalker au #stalker au hetalia

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putonmyfavoriteshow · 2 years ago

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Life With Luca thoughts/reactions

WOW, I really enjoyed that way more than I expected to!

OK, so timeline wise the math isn't really mathing for me lmao. Like how do they both have 14 yr olds and Simon being in college already?? The show only ended in 2009/2010 which was 13/14 years ago?? What year is it in this universe??? They both had children the year they went off to college lmao??

But I'm happy to ignore logic since I actually enjoyed the newbies a lot.

I liked that Luca/Skylar weren't just a repeat Casey/Derek dynamic and weren't rivals who full on hated each other but just grew up differently and had some jealousy/hostility toward the other because of that, but actually were a lot sweeter together during more serious moments. I think their personalities perfectly reflected how they were raised - Luca is a bit of a rebel, but he's very much Casey's son, he's trained in First Aid! and has a granola bar in his pocket at all times, albeit stale AF, and takes care of his siblings even if he can be lazy about it sometimes. Skylar is more mature minded but she has the freedom of Derek's parenting so she's not nearly as high strung as Casey is, but she is more organized and put together to make up for Derek's lackadaisical way of living.

I LOVED SIMON!!! He was easily my favorite new character. I can't believe I went from forgetting he even existing to absolutely adoring him. He was so lovable and silly and he must have such a wild childhood being the Venturi-McDonald baby, I would love more backstory on him!

Molly/Kai were adorable and the perfect little chaotic kiddos to round out the ensemble :3

George/Nora - although I wasn't as invested in them, their relationship is so adorable and they're just as dorky and sweet as they were in the series.

The random jewelry heist B-plot was so random, but kinda funny. I'm down for some chaotic hijinx, and I love how it ended with that theif falling through the ceiling XD

The return of Lassiter and Sam were great. It would've been great to see any of the show regulars honestly but I'm glad we got some. I think the return of D-Rock really got me. When they started singing the song I had tears in my eyes. And Ralph as a surgeon was such a great way to explain his absense lmao.

I missed Edwin/Lizzie/Marti. I think that was my only real let down with the movie. They didn't need to be in the whole thing but even a video call would have been nice :/

Career-wise I'm glad they went with Derek as a rock star and Casey as a lawyer. Even though Derek was the hockey guy, seeing him roam around as a rock star with his daughter really just fits his vibe. And I'm so glad the movie course corrected VWD Casey because I was never a fan of her dropping out of college to dance in NY like ?? sure Casey loves to dance but she loves to use her big brain even more!!! Plus fighting for justice?? THAT'S SO CASEY DASEY!!! So it was taboo then, I feel like it's even more taboo now, but had you lived it you would get it! These two always had way too much tension and never quite fell into a sibling-like relationship. They were insanely obsessed with each other making everyone around them uncomfortable, so they were destined to be messed up soulmates <3 It may be an ick for some and that's valid, but for me they'll always be "the exception the the rule" ;) Also Ashley and Mike were always pushing the limit on them, they knew what they were doing! Ok, so now that that's out of the way, I knew that we weren't going to get canon Dasey out of this, but I'm so glad the writers delivered on giving us some great Dasey content regardless. The fact that both Skylar's mom and Casey's hockey husband were both entirely absent and no love interest was given was wise. We basically got to see Derek and Casey play house and be the married vibes that they are which is honestly what us hardcore LWD/Dasey fans want anyway. Mike & Ash didn't miss a beat! That was really Casey and Derek back on my screen and it made me really emotional <3 Maybe the movie didn't have a whole lot of just them, since their children were the focal point but the way it ended, it just made me want more and feel like we were being set up for ...possible canon Dasey? But even if not canon, I think that if the show does get picked up, we can get so much fun Dasey content from it to build from anyway (canon is overrated sometimes lbr) Plus I genuinely enjoy seeing Derek and Casey in parental roles so that would be awesome. And SIMON MORE SIMON PLEASE!!!! <3

#life with luca #life with derek #thoughts and reactions #lwd #lwl #dasey #my opinion #nostalgia

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diovstheworld · 2 years ago

Text

Star Boy - Donatello Versus

something not la squadra related for once. written just for fun in some moments of me being sad and needing a serotonin boost and this guy was on my mind :) sorry for any errors, i’m not from florida nor am i from anywhere warm (scotland’s weather is not the best lmaooo) so please bare with me and thank you for reading :) p.s. i apologise for my writing abilities, they get worse every time 😭

୨ ╭ ୨୧ ✦ ︶꒷꒦・⎯⎯・⎯⎯・₊ˎ✧๑

The first thing Donatello felt was the chill of the summer wind against his sensitive ivory skin, the gentle breeze tickling the fluffy platinum blonde hairs on his slender arms. He wasn’t wearing his usual white hoodie adorned with blue pockets, though the garment wasn’t too far away from him, wrapped around his waist and grazing his slender hips. He didn’t anticipate that he would feel the cold but he thought it best to bring some sort of garment nonetheless. Plus he didn’t want to be sitting on the ground in just his jeans when he inevitably stopped for a break. After all, this walk didn’t have no purpose. The blonde took a few more steps down the pavement before a melody fluttered through the air that seemed to be coming from some beach party in the distance. Donatello could only see the smoke of a log fire (or perhaps a man made barbecue), but he knew the irritating sound waves of the bad pop song were bound to get stuck in his head later. For a brief moment, he contemplated silencing said beach party and the loud bass of the pop (actually, now he thought about it, it sounded more like rap) song by using Underworld to create some disaster. But even he thought this was rather extra to go to such extremes to silence some shitty music. Besides, he could always just put in his— his own thoughts were stopped as he felt around the front and back pockets of his dark wash denim jeans before his hands landed to a bulge in his hoodie pocket. Panic over. His beloved airpods were sleeping peacefully in their case. Not that this treasured possession of his even belonged to him. They belonged to some kid on the bus that had dropped them on accident, and, as the saying goes, finders keepers, right? Donatello hadn’t alerted Rikiel and Unaglo of this fact. Not that Unaglo would care, but Rikiel would probably go into panic mode of some sorts. Ah yeah, that dumb kid from the bus. He remembered him very well; the kid stunk of weed which he was desperately trying to mask with an overpowering dose of Lynx Africa (not very well Donatello might add). He remembered the boy’s attitude had stunk just as much as the stale odour that clung to his body. Donatello couldn’t help but feel that perhaps he deserved to lose his airpods after the way he shoved an old lady down the stairs. Though he didn’t dare utter those words out loud. He didn’t want to get any bad karma. He already had enough shitty luck to last him a lifetime and beyond. He was shocked this little blessing of good luck hadn’t caused a shit ton of bad luck to rain down on him if he was being totally honest. Plus it seemed a waste of his time to overreact on silly little events of the past right now. Though, it was really events of his past that even brought him to the golden sands of the Floridian coast on this summer evening. Ah, cue Donatello doing what he does best: put on music to drown out negativity and the bullying thoughts that came from his brain while taking a stroll away from his brothers who only seemed to aggravate him even more when he was in a bad mindset. In went the ‘stolen’ airpods, left bud in before the right. Alice In Chains started playing immediately as the bud made contact with his ears. Dam That River was the song. He really liked that one. Though he was a big lover of rock music in general. Rock music was quite literally his rock. He found so much comfort in the sounds of loud guitar and heavy bass and gruff vocals. Being alone with his thoughts felt much less intimidating when he had some music to accompany him. And tonight, that was just what the doctor ordered. Nothing made Donatello feel more comforted than the sound of bass guitars and drum solos. It felt like being wrapped in cotton wool and his ears were full of delight. Actually, to say there was nothing he loved more than rock music was untrue.

Donatello Versus loved the stars, he always had done. He didn’t know a single thing about them, sure. Couldn’t even name a constellation. But being acquainted with the night sky and knowing every element of its past was not what he wanted anyway. Donatello simply appreciated those little dots millions of light years away being here for him no matter what. This was the purpose of tonight’s walk. Those negative thoughts were catching up to him, and with his brain so far down the rabbit hole of self deprecation, a night out with the stars was what this blonde haired boy needed to take a breather and escape from the harsh realities of life. His ideal spot for stargazing was the beach. He enjoyed the feeling of the soft sand beneath his dark jeans, feeling like a comforting hug from the earth. The sand would be starting to cool off after the long day of heat from the summer sun and the reflection of the moon against the surface of the tranquil sea as the last of the days waves crashed and faded against the golden grains of sand that surrounded him felt like heaven. Well, that’s what his idea of heaven would be. A plane of existence where only he existed, surrounded by the cosmic beauties in the sky, azure waves lapping against golden sands. Of course it felt other worldly. And being in another world was certainly better than being in his apartment with his two brothers. Though Versus would call it a ‘shit hole’ more than a house. The small apartment was pretty run down, all the furniture coming from those who lived there before. Not that the boys cared that much. They didn’t have the funds to buy new furniture. Plus a few broken springs and lack of seat padding on a sofa never killed anyone. In all honesty, Versus and Unaglo were just happy to even have a sofa. After having experienced the beds of prison, this beaten up piece of furniture that one would normally call trash was like lying on a pile of clouds to them. Though it seemed like Versus was annoyed at everything, he always appreciated little things like this. Though the furniture wasn’t the only thing that drove them crazy from time to time, it was more so their shower. The shower that Donatello Versus hated with a passion. When they had first moved in, it had taken him a while to learn how to use it, until he learned that he had to hold in the on switch for a while to get it going, then wait about the length of a shower to let the water heat up. The boys had learned the trick of putting the shower on 20 minutes before they wanted to wash so the shower was at a bearable temperature to clean themselves. It was no wonder Versus wanted out the house so often. And his time with the stars seemed to take his mind off it all and for even just a few moments, the weight of the world no longer sat heavy on his shoulders.

Versus often felt bad that his relationship with the stars was one sided. These celestial beauties gave him a chance to destress and clear his mind, yet he gave nothing in return. Though, what could he possibly give to the stars? Nothing really came close to the calmness of the night sky, so any offers to it were meaningless. Plus Donatello didn’t have much to give to anyone, let alone the night sky. With a heavy sigh, Donatello finally reached his usual spot on top of the sand dunes. It felt as though he had been walking for quite some time, and so he had. The sun was at the start of the setting period and golden flecks of fading sunlight were beginning to scatter across the sea, and Donatello felt the first wave of happiness today wash over him. Another sigh escaped his pale lips, though this time it was one of content as he sat himself down on the sand. Yep, just the right temperature that he liked, though he expected nothing less at this time in the evening. And so he got comfortable, laying back on the dunes, small blades of stray grass poking his back though it felt more like a itchy woollen blanket against his back. Not comfortable, but also not uncomfortable. With the summer sun fading fast, he got to experience all sorts of pastel colours; yellow to orange, pink to purple, and finally, to the deep blue he had been waiting for. It was around 8:30pm now, and there they were, his friends from hundreds of light years away.

Suddenly the reason for Donatello coming out tonight had slipped his mind. All the negative thoughts around his past that had been getting him down this evening seemed to melt into a little puddle of nothing. For the first time in a while, he felt free of the thoughts that had been keeping him prisoner. And he even felt grateful for his brothers in this moment. Sure they annoyed the hell out of him, but they weren’t that bad. The blonde couldn’t hold back the little smile that came to his face. It was a rare sight to see him smile, but he truly felt happy in this moment. “Thank you…” he whispered to the stars, though this moment of gratitude was also aimed at Rikiel and Unaglo. With his years of bad luck and prison cells, Versus had never really taken the time to think about the good place he was in now. Maybe his ‘shitty life’ wasn’t so shitty after all.

୨ ╭ ୨୧ ✦ ︶꒷꒦・⎯⎯・⎯⎯・₊ˎ✧๑

if you read all this thank you so much and i apologise for my poor skills in writing endings to my writing 😭

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wildbanana · 1 year ago

Text

1999

Part 2

* ‘thoughts’

“Out loud”*

The next day

Py wakes up after getting a restful sleep, no more nightmares after that wicked one in the middle of the night. She makes her way to the kitchen to prepare herself a bowl of cereal.

“A bowl of Trix is what’s on the menu today Mr. Charlie.” She speaks the the stuffed rabbit sitting in a chair already.

She pours the cereal into her bowl and as the cereal hits the plastic there’s a knock on the door. Sweat is just automatically swelling up on her forehead.

“Huh?” She wipes the sweat. “Oh yeah…haha…that was just a silly nightmare. Let me go check that out Charlie.” She puts the cereal box down on the table to go and check the door. She opens the door and to her surprise…it’s the same red man she saw in her dreams. She froze.

‘How…huh? There’s no way this is happening. What is this? Some movie? I just wanted some cereal…’

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “Hello…?”

The man is smiling, it’s not the same smile as the one he gave in her dream. “Well hello there ma’am, er, are your parents home?” He asks.

“Yes…” she’s just staring at the man, she can’t believe what she’s seeing.

“May I speak with them?” He leans in a little to look around.

“Excuse me, can you stand outside please?” She pipes up.

“My apologies…” he steps back.

“And I suppose I can get my parents…” she closes the door for a moment. ‘Geez, this is so weird. At least he’s not as scary as he was in the dream…’

She heads to her parents room and knocks. She can hear snoring. She bangs louder.

“Alright alright!” A cough is heard following that. “I’m up, there better be a reason why you’re getting me up right now!” Her dad yells, he works nights so of course he’s cranky. He makes his way out the room. “What’s going on?” He says as he scratches his back.

“There’s some strange guy outside…” she points to the door.

“Ah great, gotta talk to some asshole first thing in the morning.” He opens the door. “Yeah?”

“Good morning sir, may I speak to you about my Lord and savior?” He begins to grin wide.

“Huh? You’re meaning to tell me I was woken up for THIS?” He’s even more irritated but tries to keep it contained.

“Haha, I jest sir.” He had his arms behind his back, he now pulls something from behind his back. “I’m actually selling little trinkets so I can save up money. Was just wondering if you’d like to buy? Only $5.” He opens the box the reveal shiny gems, they’re not real which explains the price.

Py is immediately drawn to a red gem. Something about it is drawing her in.

“Only $5?” She asks.

“Yep! I thought it’d be a good enough price. It adds up y’know!” He grins.

‘Seems suspicious. Why gems? And cheap ones at that? Ah screw it. It’s just $5.’

“Uh, sure. I’ll take that pretty red gem.” She goes to grab a 5 from her dresser as her dad stays at the door. She comes back and hands him the 5.

“Much appreciated, I shall leave you be now.” He nods after handing over the gem.

“Alright then.” Py’s dad says then closes the door with a yawn. “A gem eh? Pft. Hunk a garbage. Wonder what that guy was savin’ for.” He let’s out another yawn. “I’m going back to bed, don’t wake me unless the house is on fire.”

“Kk.” She says staring at the rock and makes her way back to her cereal. Her dad heads back to his room to slumber.

‘Maybe this gem means something…or maybe I’m just overthinking it because of that silly nightmare…’ she puts it in her pocket. ‘Man I’m hungry…’ she pulls the milk out the finish her cereal off. ‘Guess I’ll find out since I decided to buy it…’

1999, before DOGZ.

Part 1

Py is in her room working on her homemade bass guitar. All The Small Things by Blink-182 plays on the radio.

“I can’t wait to play you…” she says to the guitar. She finishes up and starts to tune up the bass. “Sounding good…” she pokes her tongue out listening to the pitch as she tunes. Suddenly she hears something drop outside her room. “Huh?” She puts her bass down and gets up to investigate. When she exits her room quietly she sees her mom staring out the window in shock. She dropped a baking sheet.

“Mom?” She says, curious yet shaky. What has her so spooked?

“Mom…” she says again, creeping closer to slowly reveal that a red man is standing outside just staring in. She screams at the sight of him. The man grins and starts to laugh.

“Humans, they’re so easy to scare.” He says as he makes his way to the door and knocks.

Py goes to stand behind the front door. “What do you w-want?”

“I’m looking for a place to stay. Could you help me?” The man asks. It’s hard to tell if he’s dangerous or not. Who just stands outside someone’s window like that?

“Now why would we help you after you scared us to near death??” She says, a little angry.

“I’m sorry about that, it’s just I find it funny.” He replies.

“Well it’s not funny seeing a…I don’t even know what just stand and stare! I don’t think you’re even human!” She says loudly so he hears well.

He chuckles. “Well, I’m sort of human. But…not really.”

Sweat starts to well up on her forehead. Did he just confirm he’s not a human? Is this real? Please tell me this is some nightmare.

“W-what do you mean by that?” She asks. Her mother finally collects herself and comes to stand by her daughter.

“I took this body from somebody, I’m just renting it out you see.”

Renting it out? What do you mean renting it out? What is he…

She finds it hard to speak. “Renting…renting it out?” Why does she keep talking. Why is her mom being so quiet? She turns around. The red man is now behind her instead of her mom.

The look on his face has become distorted, voice sounds like it’s behind radio static. “I’m renting it out for I don’t have a physical body of my own. And when this one rots away, I’m going to be needing a new one and boy does your vessel look perfect.” His grin wide and sharp teeth poke out. Sweat is now dripping off her face. As she’s about to scream she wakes up.

Just like that. Her prayers were answered, it was just a nightmare. Breathing heavy now she takes a moment to collect herself.

“What was that about?” She says to herself quietly. She gets up and walks to the bathroom to wash her face from the sweat. She makes her way back to the room. She looks at her bass that’s near completion. “Heh, maybe I’m too stressed about getting you finished up for the talent show.” She makes her way back to her bed.

#wildbanana writes

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hpimaginesandblurbs · 3 years ago

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wait draco fucking his arranged marriage wife on a couch after she admitted to still seeing her ex (not knowing he has feelings for her obviously) and he’s like oh? can he fuck you like this tho?

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

warning(s): 18+, adultery, arranged marriage, slight degradation

word count: 3.0k

a/n: this was not supposed to be this long but it ran away from me as i started writing. this is the longest thing i’ve written on tumblr so far and i hope you all enjoy it! one of my own person favorites.

Another day felt like another day wasted in the walls in the stuffy Manor you called home. Except it wasn’t home. And it wasn’t another day.

No. After weeks of trying to get your husband to open up to you, you had had enough. It was an arranged marriage, and although you were no fool and had no pretenses of pretending to love him, you’d at least like to get to know the person you called your husband.

Back in school you had always thought the infamous Draco Malfoy was rather handsome, anyone would be a fool to deny it. He was confident and popular, great at Quidditch, and seemed like the perfect gentleman - everything you could want in a husband. Turns out it was the opposite. All the feelings you thought you might develop for him were unrequited, and he ignored you at every turn.

So you took it into your own hands to get what you were so desperately craving: physical affection. It didn’t take much, truly. All you did was send an owl to your ex boyfriend from your school days and one thing led to another until you were in his bed, wrapped in his arms, and rocked to your core with pleasure.

But now you were back in your ‘home’, wasting away within the walls of the Manor with your husband nowhere to be found.

It wasn’t until hours later, when you were getting ready to push yourself up from the couch to head to bed, did the fireplace flash green, signaling his arrival home.

“Hello. How was your day?” You asked politely, hoping just this once he might fall into a normal conversation with you.

“Fine,” he replied shortly, not even bothering to look at you as he emptied his pockets and put down his very important briefcase that was a mystery to you.

A blaze of frustration ran through your body, desperate to get more out of this man than just one word. A crazy thought came into your head, to tell him about your day, but you pushed it aside. No, Malfoy’s wouldn’t think highly of a girl who committed adultery within weeks of marriage. But…

“My day was great,” you told him, rather impulsively.

At first he seemed shocked that you even said anything, the conversation usually reached its end by now. But he recovered quickly, politely asking “And what was so great about your day?”

Naturally, you could lie. Tell him you met up with your female friends for lunch. Tell him you read a good book. Tell him anything but the truth. But…

“I reacquainted myself with my ex boyfriend from school,” you told him, daring to look him in the eye as you spoke.

“Reacquainted? How?” He asked, a series of emotions flashing over his face that you had never seen before. It sent a thrill through you to see him showing any emotions at all.

Again, you could lie. Tell him you met him for lunch. Tell him that you ran into each other in Diagon Alley. Tell him anything but the truth. But…

You knew even if the truth did come out, he would have to keep it a secret. He wouldn’t dare be seen as a spineless cuckold as his wife went around sleeping with whomever she pleased.

“I owled him a few days ago, asking to meet him,” you began, watching as his face contorted into something akin to anger. “I went to his home, for lunch, and it didn’t end with lunch.”

You left the end of your short story rather ambiguous, wanting to see what he’d do with the information you presented him. He had barely moved from his place by the fireplace, but the look he was giving you could set you up in flames if he wanted it to.

“So, what? You fucked him?” He asked, the politeness in his voice giving way to the anger he was feeling.

In a sick way, it pleased you to see him angry. Gave you a sense of pride that you, the wife he had seen fit to ignore, could get such a rise out of him.

“Yes, seeing as you haven’t even touched me,” was your spiteful reply, foolishly placing the blame all on him despite your own actions.

“You stupid, silly little girl,” he said under his breath as he stalked over towards you, menacing in just how much bigger he was than you. “You don’t fucking understand a thing about me, do you?” He asked, hovering over you, his hands braced on the back of the couch that you were still seated on, your faces inches apart.

“You don’t let me. You never speak to me,” you argued, ready to turn this into a fight filled with low blows if he really wanted it to go that way.

“You think this is a fucking walk in the park for me? Having some girl I’ve barely met in my house looking terrified of me every time I come near her? Suffering through your daily attempts to talk to me, but knowing how unbearably uncomfortable you are in being here? You think I wanted this? For either of us?” He asked seamlessly, almost in a rush to get all of his thoughts out before he thought better of it. A look of hesitation passed his face for a brief moment before he continued on, more quietly now. “You think I wanted the girl I couldn’t take my eyes off for a single day after fifth year hating being in my presence? Going behind my back to fuck someone else because I’ve held myself back in case she was uncomfortable doing anything more than just acting like my wife?”

He didn’t meet your eye at first, but when he did you saw the weight of his emotions. He was hurt, by himself and by you. He was jealous of the man you had chosen to spend your day with. He was terrified of your reaction to his words. He was furious he even had to have this conversation, in this way, in this situation. He was relieved he finally got it all out.

“Wh- What are you saying?” You asked cautiously, not wanting to twist his words to meet your own fantasy of having a loving husband.

He took a deep breath before he answered, but made no moves to rid himself of his proximity to you. “Y/N, I’ve been head over heels for you since the moment we met. But having an arranged marriage, I couldn’t do much more but assume you didn’t share the same feelings as me.”

“Oh,” was all you could even say back, too overwhelmed to think of anything else. You searched his eyes for the lie, but they held nothing but the raw truth. He must have seen something in your eyes as well, because his tone shifted into something else entirely before he spoke again.

“Now, Y/N, I think we got off on the wrong foot and I didn’t make my intentions clear with you. I intend to be a good husband, a loving husband. And yet despite my best efforts to be the perfect gentleman so far, you went behind my back to sleep with some other man. And what does that say about you?” He asked, his eyes boring into yours as he spoke.

You were sure he could hear your heart rate from how close he was, your pulse racing at his words. “I- I don’t know,” you stuttered, willing to let him take this wherever he saw fit.

“I’m not going to place the blame all on you, because I know I haven’t been perfect. But one might say that you’re a dumb little whore, and I might be inclined to agree. A stupid, little girl trapped in her big, posh Manor. Going out to let any guy fuck her, not even knowing that her husband can fuck her better than anyone else could.”

“And you could fuck me better than someone I know can?” You asked incredulously, shocked at the words spilling from his mouth. But even if you tried, you couldn’t deny the way he was so sure of himself, so sure he could please you better than any man, aroused you to no end.

He let out a dark chuckle and looked at you, amused. “Of course I could, darling. That is, if you give me the chance,” he told you in a teasing tone, before pushing himself off of the couch to walk away.

“Wait,” you started, once again acting on impulse. You might regret your next words, but damn it if you weren’t curious. And he was your husband after all. “Prove it.”

“Prove it?” He asked, turning on his heel to face you again, a victorious grin written across his face. When you nodded, he only lifted a brow before he continued. “Now? Haven’t you had a long day of, oh how did you put it, ‘getting reacquainted with your ex’?”

“You talk a big game, Draco. Now I’m asking you to prove it. Scared?” You asked, baiting him.

In a split second and a flurry of movement later, he had you laying down against the couch, pressed into the expensive fabric, with his weight on top of you, pinning you down.

“I’ll give you one last chance to back out of this. Tell me now, otherwise I’m going to fuck you through this couch,” he said through gritted teeth, clearly fed up with your antics.

Without even thinking, your lips crashed onto his in a heated kiss. Lips you hadn’t felt since your wedding day. You hadn’t even remembered what they felt like until his tongue was darting along your bottom lip, hastily requesting entry.

As your kiss remained heated, he was expertly shedding you both of your clothing until you were almost bare. He had only left you in your small, lace thong in the aftermath of his destruction.

His hands traveled your body possessively, as if trying to memorize every curve and edge of your skin. The moment your bra came off, your breasts were in his hands, easily rolling your nipples until you were gasping for air. He swallowed all your noises greedily, as if you were feeding them to a starved man.

It wasn’t until he pulled away, his hands resting on the waistband on your underwear, did you have a moment for a coherent thought.

“One last time, are you sure Y/N?” He asked as if it was painful for him. As if it was the case that you said no, it would be immensely difficult for him to pull himself away. As if it was the case that you said no, he’d die a painful death at your feet.

“I’m sure,” you said softly, not wanting him to think for a second that you had any hesitant thoughts about this moment.

As he slowly pulled down your final layer of clothing, it gave you a chance to finally look at him.

And he was beautiful.

He looked like an ancient Greek statue, perfectly carved and crafted out of marble come to life. His perfectly defined lines, his impossible definition, his muscles in all the right places. Your eyes eventually traveled down to his cock, and your breath hitched when you finally saw how large he was. If you had known this all along, perhaps you wouldn’t have sought out another man for your pleasure.

He seemed to be taking you in just the same. His eye trailing down your body with such reverence that you felt like an ancient Greek goddess yourself, if only for a moment.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly, almost as if he didn’t mean for you to hear the words.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, giving him a shy smile when his eyes met yours again.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” he told you, still in the soft tone that he had. He gracefully let his body fall back over yours, bracing himself on one forearm while his other hand traveled the length of your body.

When he caught your lips again, it didn’t hold the same heat as before, but there was something new there. Something good. Something that could only be translated through your lips in that very moment. Something akin to adoration, worship, even love.

His hand stopped its travels at the apex of your thighs, expertly running his fingers over your clit and down your slit, feeling for himself just how wet you were. He groaned at the feeling of how wet and warm you were, and you felt his cock twitch against your stomach in anticipation.

He slowly opened you up for him with his fingers. First with one, then two, even venturing to three before he was content that you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He didn’t rush the process, kept a slow, steady, predictable pace as he worked your body. And every time you got close to the edge, he’d gently bring you back down, leaving you a whining, writhing mess by the time he was aligning his cock with you.

“Draco, please,” you begged shamelessly, more than ready for him.

“Did you beg for him earlier?” He asked almost nonchalantly, teasing you with the tip of his cock.

He must have seen the shock on your face, shocked that he would bring it up in this moment, because he only chuckled before pushing inside of you, a gasp easily pulled from your lips at the intense stretch.

He didn’t fuck you gently, immediately starting with a breakneck pace that left you seeing stars from the first moment he bottomed out. You were easily rewarding him with your moans, letting him know just how good it felt without words. You couldn’t speak even if you tried.

But he talked. Oh, yes. He ran that pretty mouth of his as if he wasn’t thrusting so deep inside of you the couch was rocking.

“I was right, wasn’t I? You’ve never been fucked like this, have you?” He asked, right as you were beginning to climb that peak into a pleasurable abyss.

You gave him a feeble nod in return, not trusting your own mouth to properly respond.

“Did he fuck you like this?” He asked, biting the question out through clenched teeth as if he was dreading the answer. “Tell me, Y/N, did he?” He asked, fucking you even harder now in his frustration.

“No,” you cried out, breaking free of your moans for a second to answer him. “He can’t fuck me like this,” you added, if only to stroke Draco’s ego, but nevertheless it was true. No one could fuck you like this.

“Cum for me, let me feel you,” Draco said, lowering his head into the crook of your neck to ground himself, trying to fight off his orgasm until you got yours.

It didn’t take much longer after that. He had worked you up so much beforehand that your orgasm came to you easily and came with such a force you were left breathless in its wake. Your nails carved down Draco’s muscular back, sure to leave delightful scratch marks that you could study later, as you cried out in bliss.

The moment he felt your walls contract around him, he let himself go with a low groan. The sound was music to your ears, and only intensified the feelings you were experiencing. To have him so close, sharing in the same ecstasy you were, it was like magic.

When you both came down from your highs, he swiftly rearranged the both of you until you wrapped in his arms, both lying on the couch. It was a strange feeling, being in his arms for the first time like this. If someone had told you this would be happening only a few hours before, you would have laughed in their face. But now here you both were, sweaty and satiated, basking in the bliss of finally consummating your marriage.

The thought made you giggle, and when he shot you a perplexed look, you couldn’t help but explain.

“We finally consummated our marriage,” you explained, still giggling. “And don’t worry, by the way, I’m on the potion,” you thought to add, just in case kids weren’t looming in the future for him.

“Good to know you won’t be birthing any bastard children,” was his sullen response, clearly still hurt by the events of the day.

You shifted your body until you were looking directly at him, but he made no moves to pull his arms away from you. If anything, he held you tighter when he felt you move, unwilling to give up the moment.

“Look, I’m sorry about what I did today. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair to you. And if I had known even a fraction how you felt about me, I wouldn’t have done it, because I feel the same about you. I was just feeling incredibly stuck in what I thought was a hopeless marriage, and I was lonely, so I sought out someone else. But now I understand that that isn’t the case, and I can promise you, from the bottom of my heart, that it will never happen again,” you told him, putting everything out there for him.

“You feel the same?” He asked timidly, after a moment of deliberation. There was a look of hope on his face, and never in your wildest dreams would you shut down such a rare display of emotion from him. Then again, you may be expecting more of his emotions from here on out.

“Yes. I’ve always been attracted to you, and the little bits of you that I do know, I like. I want this to work, Draco. I want this to be a real marriage. All I wanted was a shot.” you said, just praying he wanted the same.

“‘I’ll admit, I wasn’t a good husband to you by any means, and I probably unknowingly pushed you into doing what you did. But now that our intentions are out there, I’d like nothing more than to give this a real shot,” he responded, that newly familiar look of hope in his eyes present once more.

In that moment, you could both feel it. The beginning of something great.

#Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #draco malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy Headcanon #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy blurb

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eddiescumfilledsock · 2 years ago

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more (mostly romantic) eddie hc because this man never leaves my mind now

CW for having a kid and marrige if that bothers you, I think i made sure it stayed all gn though

-he would love to give you pretty flowers he saw on a tree or bush, even just nornal leafs and dandelions, as well as any cool rock or button skjdjdj

-if you do the same he will get so giddy and press them before glueing it to some paper and keep it in a shoe box with the other little things you gave him and theyre his most prized possessions hed say its a tie or right after his guitar but he's lying

-hes like that its a crystal nothing more meme but instead of a crystal its any neat little thing he found on the side of the road lmao

-him putting fruit stickers on you <3

-hed put it right in the middle of your forehead and say some shit like you cost 1.98 but are priceless to me like the sweet dork he is if you do the same to him he will stick them to the inside part of the lide in the show box too

-hhhhhnnnn him not being able to really buy you a big pretty bouquet of flowers so he picks a bunch of random ones he thinks look nice from peoples yards and those planters outside shops and gives them to you in a gas station cup

-he is kinda embarrassed once he gives them to you because he couldnt get you something fancy and is scared youll hate them but that all melts away when he sees how happy you are

-taking a couple polaroid pics of them so even when they eventually wilt and die you will both always have a physical memory :)

-he would also do that thing if you dont like the pickles on your burger or a specific flavour of skittle he will eat them even if he doesn't like them either instead of just like,,, neither of you eating them

-he doesn't do it becuase hes worried about wasting money or food or anything like that hes kinda stupid sometimes but its okay hes cute and means well <3

-hed do that shit where hed blow his nose and hand you the tissue or burp and blow it at you and say for you babe <3

-a menace

-if you draw or make him something he will cherish that shit until the day he dies, even if its just a random little doodle on a sticky note

-expanding on that, if you're an artist and draw his dnd character he would literally never recover im not even kidding it could look like shit and hed still show everyone, rub it into the guys faces that his s/o drew his character and only his

-if you did the hellfire symbol thing hed put it in the front pocket of the binder he uses to keep the papers and stuff in

-GOD HIM MAKING A LITTLE RING OUT OF THE TWIST TIE TO A LOAF OF BREAD AND GIVING IT TO YOU AND PROMISING HES GONNA GET YOU A REAL DIAMOND ONE SOME DAY

-matching jewlery with him <3 whether it be a necklace or bracelet or even ring, if he picks it out itd be one of those silly little kid ones but if it's t o o childish hed probs just have it on his key ring or hanging in his van though :/ gotta keep up that bad boy rocker look

-if you guys have a special song together he would wanna get some lyrics tattooed on him, that or as cheesy as it is your name/initials in your hand writing

-hed wanna get one with your name and the day you met/started dating/got married at first but it looked too much like a remembrance one for someone thats died so he scrapped that idea

-hed be over the moon ecstatic if you did the same or something for him but would understand if you didnt want to get a tattoo, they arent for everyone :)

-fucking you know that scene from the movie up where they put their hand prints on the mail box? he would do that shit on his van and any other vehicle he gets

-when you guys get a house or apt hed wanna do the same on the wall

-if you have a kid(s) someday hed like them to add their hand print too <3

-carving your names into trees and picnic tables all the time

-hed want you to kiss his guitar pick before any shows he plays for good luck, if he ever gets famous in any capacity hed say your kisses helped

-if you have hiccups he would scare you by yelling as loud as he can no matter where you are then say you're welcome :)

-why do i get the vibes he would be the kid at lunch that just d r i n k s ranch

AN: i don't think giving gifts is his main love language so this might just be me projecting but i think hed also do these ksjdjd if anyone actually reads this and wants to share a hc pls feel free!! i love seeing content for this dude <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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joyfulhopelox · 3 years ago

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Sidewalk Chalk

Pairing: Basketball Player! Yoongi x reader (non-idol! au, childhood friends to lovers! au)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Summary: As a child you had always loved to play in the park. Loud and obnoxious you made an array of friends, but you soon discovered that the lonely boy sitting on a swing on the playground is much more fun to draw with. Bonding over chalk drawings in the heat of the summer, little did you know that he would become your rock for many summers to follow.

Word count: 9k

rating : g

A/N: This is square 7/25 for the @bangtanwritingbingo (Square: Chalk Drawings). Thank you @min-yoon-kween and @sunshinejunghoseokie for trying even when the house was burning i appreciate you guys so much. I am also really grateful to my best friend who told me off for my general writing mistakes and for keeping me together.

A massive massive massive thank you to the amazing @ttaetae for her amazing skills of pulling a crappy banner i made and making it a masterpiece. You have saved me!

I have not written so much fluff, but it was needed after all the angst and all the angst that will follow after this.

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for the work

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

The sound of the birds chirping in the early hours of the morning, as you walked through the park, was the perfect soundtrack to your day. Smiling softly to yourself, you took a deep breath in, savouring the scent of the late summer blooms. Your feet carried you slowly towards your destination. You were in no rush. Today time was just a concept, and you would make the most of it. You caught yourself checking the clock multiple times before you left the house and decided that you would leave your watch at home. Today was your day. Nothing would ruin it, not even the rain forecast for later in the day. The sound of children laughing was a telltale sign that you were quickly approaching your destination. Excitedly you sped up only to stop abruptly. Under your foot lay the faded outlines of a chalk drawn hopscotch. Smiling brightly to yourself you looked carefully around you, your eyes taking in the scenery, there was no one in sight. Placing one foot on the starting line, you proceed to hop through the numbers laughing quietly to yourself. You were definitely over the age where that would be considered appropriate, but you did not care. Sidewalk chalk games have always been your favourite.

“I see you have found something more important than meeting your own boyfriend.” The voice startled you and with a yelp you stumbled right before your feet could touch the squares with the numbers 9 and 10 in it. Turning towards the source you pouted at the man standing in front of you. The wide smile and soft features were unmistakable and your pout quickly dissolved into a beaming grin. “Yoongi.” You laughed, your feet carrying you towards said man. As you approached him, your pace quickened before you broke out into a run jumping into his arms at the last minute.

“Y/N.” He grunted, the impact knocking the air out of him. His displeasure was not real though and once he gained his footing back his arms wrapped around you tightly. Looking down at him, your heart swelled with affection. His eyes were half closed, the bright smile taking over most of his face, his black hair long enough to brush over his pale complexion. He was handsome and he was all yours. Squeezing him in your arms again to gain his attention you pecked his cheek. “Hello.” He couldn’t help but laugh at your redundant greeting but nevertheless responded. “Hello love. Have a good morning?” The arms wrapped around your waist tightened, you realised he was still carrying you. Worried for his back you wriggled yourself to get him to let you go. His arms only tightened around you, not ready to let you out of his arms just yet.

“Yoongi.” You whined with a pout. “Let me go! Your back.” You patted his shoulder. He knew you were not actually angry at him, if the laughter lines at the corner of your eyes were any indication. “Just a bit longer love, I haven't seen you in so long.” Your pout lessened and you laughed at him, “it’s only been 2 days silly.” Despite your words your arms wrapped around his neck once more as you buried your head in the nape of his neck. Inhaling deeply you took in his warm scent, a smell that has become so familiar to you, it made you feel like coming home.

“Exactly,” he laughed, and you could imagine the sight of his gummy smile in your head. After so many years, the thought of it still makes your heart race. He was not very liberal with his smiles, but when he did share them with you, it was the most beautiful and uplifting sight. The intensity of it took your breath away. Suddenly you felt the world around you shift as he started spinning the two of you round. You screeched holding onto him as if your life depended on it. This was another uncharacteristic Yoongi behaviour, this playfulness only rearing its head few and far between. As a public figure he always had to be careful of his outward appearance and behaviour, his moves always calculated and thought of beforehand so as to avoid any potential scandals. However, with you he always let his guard down. The aloof Min Yoongi morphed into a child, ready to do anything you asked of him. Even if it was building a fort at 4am to cuddle under and listen to the sound of the rain pitter-pattering outside. “Yoongi stop!” You cried out, the colours of the trees around you morphing into one as dizziness started to set in. He did not stop until the echo of voices reached your ears, signalling the approach of a group of people. Putting you back on your feet, his hands lightly gripped your elbows making sure you did not fall over. Once he was sure you were firmly planted on the ground, his hands dropped to yours and with a silly grin he enclosed his palms over yours.

“Come on, we have company.” You chuckled, but followed him, his bigger strides keeping him a few steps ahead of you. The sight of his back brought back so many memories. Over the two decades you had been close, it had become a sight so intimate to you, that more often than not it appeared in your dreams as a refuge, your safe haven. The voices behind you could be heard coming closer, and Yoongi turned his head to glance over his shoulder. Wide eyed he glanced at you, a quiet signal. You needed to hurry up, and so with a giggle you picked up the pace, breaking into a small run trying to reach a place where it was just the two of you.

Hand in hand, your steps in sync, you walked down the empty path, enjoying the quietness of the early morning, the sun beating down on the pavement, eyes closed in contentment. You remembered the first time you felt this complete, the day when Yoongi finally asked you to be his girlfriend. As friends you always spent time together but as soon as you decided that the furtive glances and subtle hand touches were more than feelings of friendship, something in your relationship shifted. Your days meeting in the cafe were not about two friends catching up with each other anymore, instead, they could be considered a bud waiting to bloom, the bud of your romantic relationship. Your conversations were not as easy going anymore, still lighthearted, but this time, him and you were establishing the grounds of your affection. An affection which you would build on for however long you were meant to last. In your heart, you knew that you had always loved him, even before this significant shift in your connection.

“You are making that face.” His voice broke you out of your daydream. Brought back to the present, you narrowed your eyes at him in mock offense. “What is with my face? I thought you liked this face.” Sticking your tongue out at him, you started swinging your intertwined arms higher and higher in the air. Yoongi scoffed at your childishness, but he couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through him. You were beautiful, even when acting half your age, and he wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to fall in love with. Your loud disposition was what drew him to you in the first place. Or better yet, your loud disposition was the reason you barged into his life. The thought of your first meeting made him smile, his grip on your hand tightening. “See, now you are making a face.” Your rebuttal came quickly and he couldn’t help but laugh. As he looked at you, his laugh dissolved into a fond smile. “You always have to have the last word, don’t you?” Before you could think of a response, he pulled you to his side, his hand released yours, only to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

“I was just thinking.” He hummed, glancing at the sky, its brightness making him squint. He regretted not taking his pair of sunglasses from home, but before he could dwell on that thought a poke to his side brought his attention back to you. The sight that greeted him instantly slowed his pace to a stop, and he realised it was not you who poked him, but the pair of sunglasses that you were offering to him with a hopeful smile. “Knew you’d forget them so I kept a pair on me.” In that moment, the brightness of the sky couldn’t even compare with your smile, the latter becoming the sole reason his heart started doing somersaults in his chest. By instinct his hand went to check his back pocket, its weight becoming more and more apparent. He stopped himself before he could draw your attention. Instead, he took the glasses you offered him and placed them on the bridge of his nose, his face instantly relaxing.

With a grateful smile, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders once more. “What were you thinking about?” His eyes drank in the sight of your wistful smile, your eyes gazing off into the distance - the face he’s mentioned before, the face you made when you reminisced. He’s seen that expression multiple times when you’d both be sitting on your balcony, a glass of wine in your hands, your back leaning onto him, both covered in blankets. On those nights you would talk about anything and nothing at all. You would share amusing stories of your daily life, he would share his creative processes with you, sometimes you would play stupid games and sometimes, the sombre atmosphere left no room for entertainment. On those days, both of you would make sure to stay away from any alcohol until after you had gotten all your emotions out. Those nights you would cry for each other, your hearts intertwining along with the stars, your bodies moulding into one, until the stress and pain from the day would release its grip on your souls. He knew that look all too well, it meant that somewhere in your head, you were reliving a story, and so he waited patiently knowing very well he would hear it soon. After a few minutes of silence, the only sounds to be heard were the crunch of the gravel scattered on the pavement under your shoes, you turned towards him, a content smile on your face.

“Do you remember when we first met?” At your words he looked thoughtful for a second too long, before he responded with a cheeky grin. “You mean to say I should be able to remember the time when dinosaurs existed on this planet?” You huffed in aggravation before pushing into him slightly with your shoulder. “Honeyboy,” you warned playfully, “don’t make me stuff sand down your trousers.” He guffawed at the words he heard for the first time exactly twenty years ago. “As if you had enough courage to stick your hands in that mess.” His words should’ve annoyed you, as they did before, instead you beamed at him, the butterflies in your stomach causing a storm of emotions to burst inside of you. He did remember- that was his exact response to you at the time. The knowledge that not only did he have a vague idea of what you were talking about, but he also had a vivid recollection of the exact exchange that took place at the time made you dizzy.

Indeed, that summer day on the playground, twenty years ago, you threatened him with sand in his overalls if he refused to offer you his friendship. That thought would make you blush for years to come, but at the time, it was what instigated a beautiful friendship.

The children playing in the sand screeched and laughed, each trying to create a sand castle better than their friend’s. In the midst of it, you were the loudest of them all. Loud and obnoxious, you commanded the attention of the whole group, self proclaiming yourself the queen of all the sand castles, even though yours was the one that lacked the most. Yet, no one dared to question it, they went along with what you were telling them. The group of children surrounding you soon got bigger and bigger, as your loud disposition would attract the attention of all the newcomers.

“Come on, let's play at the monkey bars!” your pudgy finger pointed towards the abandoned steel poles. You had been eyeing them for a while, not because they posed an interest to you, you could care less about them. But the lonely boy leaning on one of the bars immediately commanded your attention. He was digging a stick in the soft ground at the base of the pole, and you have seen the look adorning his face before. It was the same look you would have when your parents would take you to their grown up things, it was boredom. And on a playground that was sacrilege to you. Without waiting for a response from your newly made friends you ran towards the bar, making sure to stop a few feet in front of the boy.

“Hello?” You called out to him your voice wavering for a second, wondering if it was smart to approach a stranger like that. But as soon his eyes lifted from the intricate designs his stick had managed to draw, your resolve steeled. He looked sad, lonely, and you would not let that happen. Approaching him with a determined gaze on your face you stopped a few breaths away from kicking him in the face with your knee. “Hey, do you wanna play with me?” You smiled at him, the lack of a front tooth making it look like a comical sight. The boy carried on staring at you, not uttering a word, so you tried to extend the invitation again, this time slower, assuming he did not understand you the first time. When he remained still for a few more seconds after which he returned to his masterpiece, your anger increased, and you stomped your foot on the ground.

“Hey, don’t make me stuff sand down your trousers!” You threatened, prepared to bend down to gather a handful of the said offender. The boy scoffed under his breath and you prepared to throw an insult back at him, but the sight of his smirk made you close your mouth quickly. “As if you have enough courage to stick your hands in that mess.” His stick motions to the still damp mound of sand by your feet to emphasize his words and as if to prove him wrong you bend down your hands sinking into the softness of the sand. Giving him a threatening look you dare him to continue mocking you. “Are you stupid?” His voice is harsh, but underneath all that your seven year old brain could detect the bravado. Faltering, you gave him a thoughtful look. “I will have you know i got a golden star at school the other day, so i’m not stupid!” You responded just as harshly. How dare he call you stupid? “If you don’t want to play with me just say, fine.” You stick up your nose in distaste, ready to leave the rude boy behind when he goes to stop you, the sound caught in his throat. Your eyes scrutinised him ready to give him a piece of your mind when you spot the leg that he is hiding behind himself, a thick cast around the ankle. Your eyes widen as realisation dawns over you. Of course, how could you have been so stupid and so brash. Your mother warned you to not rush head first into being judgemental and for the first time you understood what she meant. Embarrassed at your own behaviour you blush, your eyes darting around trying to find a distraction. When you spot the empty grey pavement a thought crosses your mind. You turn around quickly, throwing him a “wait for me” over your shoulder before you rush towards your mother.

Running back towards his dejected form, you could see the tension slip away when he spies you returning. Once again stopping short from kicking him you blush, the sudden courage you had earlier completely gone. Bashfully you extend your hand towards him, a pack of colourful chalk in your hands. Staring at it confusedly, he didn’t know what to do so instead he asked, “what is that?” he pointed towards it and you scoffed . “It’s chalk, now who is the one who is stupid?” He stared at it in awe before he shifted his attention towards you, “and what are you going to do with it?” You don’t respond to him, but instead you grab his arm, your fingers were clammy and could barely enclose over his forearm but with tremendous stubbornness you managed to get him standing upright. Not letting go of his hand you slowly encouraged him to take a few steps at a time until you both reached the strip of pavement you’ve spied earlier. You made it a point to not respond to the boy’s questions until you were both settled, your bums on the pavement and you’d pulled out two pieces of coloured chalk. One pink and one blue. He extended his hand to reach for the blue but you pulled it away tutting at him.

“Not this one stupid, this one.” You handed the pink one and he stared at it in distaste. “But pink is not for boys, pink is for girls.” He complained and extended his hand out for the blue chalk again. “Blue and pink are two colours. That is all. My mommy says you shouldn’t think inside a box, you should expand your….” You stopped, your face scrunched up in concentration. “Skyline…or something.” Dejected at not having remembered the word you took a deep breath in and carried on. “ Anyways, so it doesn’t matter if you are a girl or a boy.” The boy looked at you in awe, his eyes blinking repeatedly in fascination. “O-kay.” He’s quick to relent and soon enough, the outline of a house could be seen in pink chalk in front of him. The excited screams of children could be heard from across the playground and suddenly someone is yelling a name. “Y/N!” The boy looks confusedly around him, expecting a response from the crowd of children that took up his spot near the monkey bars. Instead, you looked up and waved at the person yelling the name. “Are you coming?” They waved you over and for a second the boy thought you’d get up and leave him, like most of the people have done when they’ve discovered he was not only shy but also a cripple for the time being. He could feel his heart drop at the thought, nevertheless, you glanced at him briefly before shaking your head. “Nah.” The group didn’t even bother calling for you a second time, their attention grabbed by the colourful metal bars awaiting them.

“Oh yes, my name is Y/N!” You suddenly turned towards your companion, your beaming smile uncovering your missing tooth once more. “What is yours?”

The boy looked wearily at you, the thought of you staying with him despite his handicap warming his soul. He throws you a small smile, his chocolate eyes scrunching slightly at the action and you swore that in that moment you felt enraptured. “Yoongi.” He didn’t say anything else, his attention back to his dream house. Sure, it may have been in chalk but he was determined to have that. Admiring his work, his eyes trailed towards your form and he could feel a tender smile bloom on his face. Yes, he was determined to have that.

“You were the biggest sap I have ever met.” Back to the present, you and him had managed to make your way through the trees, the winding path taking you further into the park. The sounds of the city seemed far away from you now, the only sounds surrounding you being the busy chirp of birds and the rustle of the leaves in the wind. Yoongi laughed and prepared to prove you wrong, but if he was honest with himself, you weren’t. Taking his lack of response as a win, you grinned cheekily at him. “Do you remember the time you wanted to convince me to climb a tree with you? Because you were told that fairies lived in that tree?” You spied the redness colouring his cheeks, the memory was a blessing and a curse for him. He did ask you to climb into the tree with you, but your memory of that event was not entirely correct. He had asked you, not because he heard that fairies lived in that tree, but because he heard that if you climbed in it with your crush, you’d end up spending the rest of your life together. He was twelve at the time, barely getting out of his prepubescent phase where girls were disgusting to him. He had the shock of his life when he managed to escape such beliefs, only to be smacked head on into it with his best friend. His best friend who went on adventures with him, his best friend who’d sit on the swings listening to his stories of pirates and of dragons - no princesses because they were gross. His best friend who happened to be you. Suddenly, his stories included princesses and princes who saved them from the dragon; most often than not, his plan to be a prince would backfire and he would end up being bossed around and turned into the princess who needed to be saved. He took it all, and played the part with starry eyes, because it was you who asked this of him. Any other person and he would have kicked them in the shin. But for you, for you he was willing to face the wrath of his parents for being out late at night, he was willing to skip basketball practice, only to spend a few more hours with you.

“Correction love, I was made into biggest sap possible.” He narrowed his eyes at you behind his glasses, “who decided that being emo was the way to go, prepared to get your ears pierced and god knows how many tattoos, even though you are terrified of needles?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, the exact conversation that you two had with each other, still ingrained in your brain. It was the first time he had admitted to feeling anything more than platonic love towards you.

You were both perched on top of your bed, your knees drawn to your chest, his, crossed at the ankles, his eyes pierced yours in the fiercest of stares and you drew your legs closer to yourself in an attempt to ward yourself from his stare. It was one of the first few times you had witnessed Yoongi this upset, and it scared you. Only because you had dared mentioning the tattoo you were planning to get, excitedly you even drew a design for it. Yoongi’s reaction was not what you’d expected. to be honest, you didn't even know what he would say, his emotions and mood swings could be extremely volatile- but it was definitely not this. “Yooooongiiiii,” you whined, his stare made you more uncomfortable as time passed and no word was exchanged between the two of you. His only response was a huff, but in your eyes that was better than the silence he’s been offering you for the past half an hour. “Look, it is not that big of a deal, I get this and then I will stop, I promise.” You pleaded, your eyes getting wider and wider, in your signature baby face. A face that Yoongi knew he could not win against, but this time, he would try his hardest. Seeing that your efforts yielded no results you sighed, the sadness that you’d tried to contain taking over you. Attuned to you and your moods more than he’d like to admit, Yoongi noticed the shift in your emotions straight away, and he shifted closer to you on the bed with a worried look. Neither of you uttered a word, the traffic outside your window being the only sounds that penetrated through the walls of your bedroom.

“Look,” you finally broke the silence, the angst in your sixteen year old heart too much to contain. “I just want to prove myself to him, okay?” Sensing Yoongi’s body weight shift on the bed, you hurriedly continued, “-and I know what you will say, I don’t need to right? But, you don’t know what it’s like. I have had this crush for so long now, it hurts physically.” Your voice broke and along with it so did Yoongi’s heart. He had tried his best to support you in all your endeavours, including your romantic ones, and yet, the older he got, the harder it was for him to dampen his own. “I do know.” He muttered and your head snapped up to look at him, he was facing away from you, a dusty rosy pink colouring his cheeks.

“What?” You whispered, your brain trying to recall if at any point Yoongi has expressed his interest in any girl, or boy for that matter. But no matter how hard you’d tried, there was nothing, not even in passing. So once he reiterated what he said before, this time louder, you looked at him bewilderment. “How, what, Yoongi, why did you not say something about this? Who is it? Do I know her? Is it a he?” In your excitement at this new reveal, you forgot all about your anxiety and hurt, yet, your incessant questions were causing him distress. Shifting away from you on the bed he rubbed the back of his neck, “forget I said anything.” But you would not have it, somehow, the thought of Yoongi having a crush on someone felt like Christmas. Maybe one day, both of your crushes would return your feelings, and then you would go on dates, you and him, and other people. Your brain froze at the thought of sharing him with other people, dread settling over you. You could not fathom not having Yoongi there for you. You have been together through thick and thin in the decade that you have known each other. He was there when your parents split up, he was there when you experienced your first teenage heartbreak, he was there to stop you when the hurt of having such a broken family made you resort to underage drinking. He was there to tell you how stupid you were and how you were not only hurting yourself, but you were hurting the people around you. He was there to remind you that you were not alone when you were faced with the hardest decision, to stay with your mother or leave with your father. He was there when high school entrance exams had a toll on you and you stopped eating, he was there to pick you up when you did not get into the same high school as he did. He was also there for the good times. But now that you thought about it, most of your good times involved him one way or another. When he took you to see a film that you had been gushing about yet he hated the genre, when he taught you how to ice skate, when you went to see his first basketball match, when he got you a puppy for Christmas so you would not be alone. He was there ingrained in your heart painting it in pink. The realisation that maybe it was not that one high school classmate that you liked hit you like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t him that made your heart race and butterflies race in your stomach. No, it was your best friend, Min Yoongi.

“Yoongi.” You hesitantly reached out to him, your hand brushing the sleeve of his hoodie. “I just…” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He couldn’t tell you, not because he was afraid he would ruin a friendship, you were both stronger than that. But he could not bear the thought of placing his emotions on you, of influencing you that way. Mentally you were already burnt out, having pined over someone for so long and not having your feelings returned, that he was afraid you would just jump at the first opportunity of an escape. He did not want his affection for you to be your getaway car. It would only hurt you and it would ruin him in the long run.

Grabbing onto his hoodie, halting him from biting his thumb, an action you have come to realise was comfort for him when he was stressed, you pulled yourself more towards him. “I love you.” You whispered, your voice drowned by the sound of a car honking outside and for a second you prayed that he hadn't heard you, but judging by the way his whole body stiffened, a rock underneath your palm, you knew it was wishful thinking.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d heard me that day.” You mused your attention back to present Yoongi, the Yoongi that has already admitted to you on more than one occasion how much he loved you.

“What made you think that?” His gentle voice was matched by the movement of his fingers playing with yours. “It took you almost a year to reply or even acknowledge it.” You smiled wryly at him. Even though that had been in the past, the memory of the uncertainty and apprehension you lived through for a whole year was still fresh in your mind. After months of not knowing how to approach him, every awkward interaction strained the bond of your friendship, you argued with yourself whether or not it was fair on him for you to push and demand an answer, just for your peace of mind.

Yoongi’s fingers grip yours tightly in an attempt to soothe the ache he could read on your face at the memory. He couldn’t deny that he tried to ignore the drift that happened between the two of you that year, thinking it was best if you both got used to relying less on each other. After all, university was looming over the two of you, he was about to leave on a basketball scholarship, and as much faith as he had in your friendship, he did not want to burden you with his feelings. The only solution that he’s come up with was to let the relationship naturally drift apart.

“You were a bit of an asshole, you know?” You smiled at the thought, the one and only time he had ever made you cry throughout your friendship. So caught up in your thoughts, that neither of you has noticed the sight of the one place that was dear to both of you. The basketball court where his life has begun. “Should we go in?” you motioned towards the closed gates. “They’re locked.” The lock was indeed on the wired gate, but you grinned wickedly, a sight that told Yoongi you were about to suggest something that he may not agree with. “When did that stop us?” You laughed as he groaned in disapproval whilst taking his glasses off and placing them in his jacket. You were not wrong, it had never stopped you, and he had his fair share of keeping you out of detention on most days for jumping the school gates.”We are not school kids anymore, Y/N.” His tone sounded as if he was scolding you, but the glimmer in his eyes told you otherwise. You pull on his hand lightly, bringing him closer to you. “Please?” You whispered as you stood on your tiptoes, your lips only a breadth away from his. Yoongi faltered, he knew he couldn’t say no to you. He smirked, that did not mean he couldn’t request bribery though.

“Y/N, we’d be trespassing.” His tone was serious, but the pull at the corner of his mouth told you another story. You knew very well where this was going, but you would not give in that easily, two could play at this game. With a huff you grabbed the lapels of his jean jacket pulling him flush to your body, your noses touching. You licked your lips, the tip of your tongue ghosting over his. “Please honeyboy?” You pleaded, your glossy lips forming into a pout. Yoongi gulped, it took all he had to not sweep you off your feet and kiss you senseless. “Please.” You rubbed the tip of your nose against his softly and he had to close his eyes to calm himself down. “Love,” he warned and you knew that with one more push he would be all yours. “Yes, love?” You let go of his jacket only to trail your palms up his torso, feeling the muscles contract underneath your touch, to wrap your arms around his neck.

“Fuck it.” Yoongi grabbed your waist pulling you to him with such force you let out a yelp. Your bodies smacked against each other, your lips clashed in a searing kiss, a battle for dominance where there was no winner, just pure pleasure. You moaned into the kiss, his soft lips attacking yours roughly, his tongue slid into your mouth caressing yours. Out of breath you pulled away from him, you could still feel the phantom of his lips against yours. Panting slightly you smirked, “I won, now let's go.” You pulled away from his embrace and grabbed his hand pulling him along with you. Gobsmacked, Yoongi followed you, his eyes never leaving the back of your head. It’s been like this ever since you met, you would somehow convince him to get into trouble with you, and he would follow you like a lost puppy. No, he thought, like a lovesick fool.

“Come on, help me.” You giggled as you grabbed onto the fence ready to pull yourself up. Yoongi sighed but did what you asked, and soon you were both running towards the centre of the court, you a giggling mess and him laughing at your giddiness. As soon as you reached your destination you plopped yourself down gesturing wildly at him. “Come on slowpoke.” Yoongi shook his head at you but increased his pace until he hovered over you. He sat down next to you, the object in his back pocket poking him in the back. He sighed, worry washing over him. Needless to say he had no time to dwell on it as you wiggled yourself next to him, settling your head on his lap. “I missed this place.” You sighed, closing your eyes in bliss. The heat from the sun was less harsh than earlier as it was nearing late afternoon. You had walked the whole day stopping in places and getting ice cream and street food from vendors stationed in the park. It was a weekday and so not many people were milling about, giving you the perfect opportunity to enjoy yourselves. With Yoongi being a well known basketball player, it was easy for him to get recognised. Whereas, it wasn’t too much of a problem usually, you just wanted some time for yourselves.

“Hey,” he called out softly, his fingers playing with the tip of your ears. You whined and swatted at his hand. “Do you remember my last high school match?”

Your laughter died in your throat, and you opened your eyes slowly. That memory always brought tears to your eyes, the whirlwind of emotions you had gone through that day left a lasting impression on you. “You mean when you yelled in my face that you loved me and called me stupid in front of your whole team?” You smile wryly at him and he has the audacity to grimace. “In my defense, you were poking a sleeping bear.” His fingers traced the line of your nose until they reached the tip. “Sleeping bear indeed. That is a good self portrait.” You stuck your tongue out at him only to break out in peals of laughter when his fingers find the side of your hip.

“Stop, stop, stop.” You grabbed at his hand trying to get him to stop but his attack was relentless. “You know the words love.” He playfully reminds you and you bite your lip. “Okay, okay, okay, I'm sorry oh mighty honeyboy. I didn't mean to poke fun at you or your skills.” You mock saluted, and he pinched you lightly as a warning, his eyes narrowing.

For a few moments it is silent, both of you enjoying the remnants of the sun, hands intertwined together until you break the stillness by asking the question that hung over the both of you. “Would you have done it all the same?” Yoongi knew what you meant, you were asking him if it were not for the loss of his team then, and the loss of his scholarship, would he have confessed to you that day?

“Yes.” He sighed, there was no need to avoid the inevitable. “Maybe not then, maybe not until years later, but I would have.” You lifted your head up briefly to glance at him, “would you have waited so long? Why?” Your voice is soft, any traces of mischievousness gone.

“Because I had loved you for a long time, even before you said anything.” He sighs, he’d never told you this. After he confessed that day, you never talked about it again. You took it at face value, never once questioning his feelings for you, or their duration for that matter. Your eyes widen in surprise. “Wait, you had?” Yoongi nods at your question, his eyes finding yours as he continues, “ever since you took my hand that day.” He smiles softly at you and you couldn’t stop the watery laugh that escapes. “Well, I enjoyed my aggressive confession, and I would not trade it for the world.” Yoongi could only laugh, the embarrassment present in his voice, he had not meant to be that aggressive but his team had lost, he was injured and you were a crying mess yelling at him for not being more careful.

“Why could you not be more careful? Who cares if you win or not? Did you have to step in at that time?” Eighteen year old you was an emotional mess. For the past year and a half yours and Yoongi’s relationship had suffered tremendously, you experienced your first heartbreak when he chose to ignore your confession, and your second heartbreak when your first boyfriend became too intimidated by your friendship. itting there on the sidelines, watching with your heart in your throat as Yoongi tried to placate the ball only to get hit in the chest with so much force he laid there on the ground for a good two minutes;Needless to say that had been your breaking point. You knew you weren’t being fair, this match was everything to him. This match determined whether or not he would get the scholarship for the university he wanted to get into. Now that they had lost, he also lost the chance to get it. You knew all that, but the sight of him sprawled on the ground unmoving was too much for you, and as soon as the referee had called for the end of the match you ran as fast as you could.

The team gathered around the two of you, after you have managed to break the ranks and slot yourself between them to reach him. You didn’t care that everyone could hear your argument, all you could see was him and his recklessness. Yoongi did not move a muscle, his impassive face not giving away any of his feelings and that only fuelled your anger even more. “Yoongi! Stop being stubborn, talk to me!” You pulled at his jersey, desperate for a reaction. You didn’t even notice the tears that had started to trail down your face, too caught up in lecturing him. He did however, and with a sigh he ran his hands over his face. He really did not want to cause a scene in front of his teammates, but you were not giving up, and the sight of your tears hurt him more than the kick to the chest he’s gotten.

“You know this matters for me Y/N, why are you being like this!” He finally acknowledged you, the tone of his voice still calm and collected. “Because I care damnit!” You pull harder as if that would make him answer you truthfully. Instead of paying attention to you, Yoongi just looked down at his shoes, dreading this conversation. He’s done so well to avoid talking about this, and even though he noticed that this was something you haven’t forgotten, he hoped that when you finally got your first boyfriend things would change, and you would forget about him. He knew it was selfish of him but he couldn't help being relieved when he was offered the easy way out.

“Why?” His voice is a whisper, but you heard it, the sounds of the crowd not even reaching your ears, all you could see was him. Sniffling you let go of his top, defeated you wiped your tears with your hoodie - his hoodie to be precise. “Because! Does it matter?” You don’t whisper, your voice rings loudly, tired or not, you can’t let your chance go to waste. That was the first time he addressed your feelings and you would take it and fight until the end.

“Yes, yes it does!” He raised his voice, the frustration at your stubbornness finally getting to him. “Why would you do this to you? To me? I tried my best to be diplomatic about this! And you are making it so damn difficult!” You flinch at his tone, he’s never raised his voice at you before, but you were not one to back down. Not now, when you finally have the chance to express your true feelings towards him.

“Because I am not a pushover! And because I am not scared! And because I believe in us! And…” the sob that escapes you turns into a hiccup and you paused to wipe at your tears again. Yoongi’s face softened, regret washing over him. He knew he was at fault, for your tears, for your insecurities. But knowing and witnessing how much it had affected you was a different story. “And because I believe in you. So then why would you do this?” If Yoongi had any mind to carry on pleading ignorance, after your confession, it had all gone out the window. Your words hit him like a ton of bricks, the love he harboured for you invading his thoughts and his heart like a tsunami. There was no way he could deny anything now, so he prayed that he would not have to be faced with the truth, one last attempt at avoiding it.

“Why would you leave me stranded like that?” Your shoulders slump, the fight leaving your body, and suddenly your knees feel like gelatin. You stumbled slightly, when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling you tightly towards their chest.

“Because I love you, stupid.” The familiar scent of your best friend surrounded you and for the first time in a year, you smiled.

You’re brought back to the present by the warmth of a hand on your cheek. “Love, it’s getting late, and there is one more place we need to visit.” If you hadn’t known Yoongi for so long you would have missed the slight waver in his voice. But you were attuned to every little change in disposition so even the smallest hesitation that you could hear in his voice allerted you. Opening your eyes, you study his face, his pouty lips, the slightly uneven shape of his eyes, his nose, the way his hair falls onto his forehead. This was the man you loved and you would not have had it any other way. You reached out a finger slowly, his eyes following it closely, confused at your actions. When you were close enough to the tip of his nose you quickened your movement, poking his forehead without a warning. The astonishment is clear on his face and you can’t help but chuckle. “Right, where to mister?” You rise slowly on your feet, looking at him with curiosity. He didn’t mention a last spot before and you couldn’t think of any other places that you may have missed.

Taking your hand he guided you out of the court, watching you like a hawk as you descended the gate. Once out, he took your hand in his and beamed. “Where it all began.”

Reaching your final destination, your feet sunk in the soft sand, taking you nearer to the colourful monkey bars that stood proud in the middle of the playground. Twenty years had passed since you have met each other, yet nothing had changed. The sandbox was still full and remnants of castles blown by the wind were scattered around it. The sound of children playing games and running around still as much the soundtrack of the playground as it had been back then. The monkey bars looked old and rusty, however their colours were shining brightly in the light of the setting sun- clearly having been painted recently. The only difference from two decades ago stood out like a sore thumb. It was you and him. Still hand in hand at the playground, so similar to your seven year old selves and yet so different. This time you were not two children, setting out on a path of beautiful friendship, you were not even young lovers, giddy with the thrill of your first love, you were two grown ups, having gone through trials in life and love, ready to take on the world and whatever life handed you together.

You let go of his hand, the loss of heat instantly making you shiver, and you grabbed onto the top of the bar, struggling to lift your legs up. Yoongi laughed at you but at your whines he hurried to help you, grabbing you by your thighs, giving them a push. Now wrapped around the bars like a monkey, your head hanging upside down, you let your head drop and closed your eyes. The utter bliss that surrounded you alongside the warmth of the setting sun made you smile in contentment. “Hey Yoongi.” You called out for him, but after a few seconds had passed and you received no response you opened your eyes scanning your surroundings confusedly. He was nowhere in your sight, and for a second doubt gripped at your heart. Had he left without telling you?

Scouring the playground you let your legs drop to the ground. You did not know whether it was the impact of your feet touching the ground, the thrill of jumping off the monkey bar or the fact that as soon as you turned around, he was there less than a feet away from you, a gentle smile on his face, his hand extended towards you- but your heart felt like it would explode. With the feelings coursing through your veins too much to contain, your lips twitched. You wanted to scold him for disappearing out of your sight, you wanted to run into his arms and kiss him senseless, so confused at your own thoughts that you stayed rooted on the spot gaping at him like a fish out of water.

“Love?” The tender look never leaving his face, the corners of his lips twitched. He took a step closer to you, with each step the heaviness of his pocket reminding him of his mission. Taking your hand in his gently, he ran his thumb over your knuckles, the action sending shivers down your spine. Blinking repeatedly at him you closed your mouth, reminding yourself to breathe, as it seemed that you had forgotten how to. The sight of him encased by the low light of the dawn, his light blonde hair reflecting the golden hues creating a halo around him, was enough to take your breath away. The pads of his fingers gently traced up your hand until they reached your wrist, wrapping around it and gently pulling you along.

You did not question him, your feet moving of their own accord. You followed him blindly out of the playground back towards the cement pathway, as you had for the past twenty years of your relationship. Coming to a stop on the pavement where you once shared your hopes and dreams in chalk, he grabbed both of your hands. His distress was instantly evident in the way they trembled, the clammy grip he had on you, similar to the one you had on him all those years ago. Giving him a reassuring squeeze, you waited for what he had to say, your brain going into overdrive.

“Close your eyes.” His voice is soft, so unlike the tough persona he displayed for the public, yet so much like the Yoongi that you have grown up with. You slowly close your eyes, and for a few seconds all you hear is silence, until a rustle draws your attention. You can’t feel his hands on yours anymore and you drop them to the side, patiently waiting for him to allow you to open your eyes. Your ears perked up at the sound of scraping, the softness of the sound rhythmic as if it followed the beat of your heart. As soon as the noise started trailing Yoongi’s voice broke you out of your trance, and this time, the tone of his voice demanded attention, so when he told you to open your eyes you did so without hesitation.

Your eyes locked onto his, the love and adoration in them washed over you in waves, making you tremble with the intensity of it. His head tilted to the side, the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and you knew in that moment that this was it for you, he was your forever and he would always be. “Y/N,” his voice carried over to you snapping you out of your daze, his head motioning to something in front of him. Slowly your eyes followed the movement and a small gasp escaped your lips, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Love.” That was enough to break the dam that held your feelings together and you all but dropped to the ground, sobs surging through your body. In panic Yoongi made a move to get to you, scenarios of you rejecting him playing out in his head. You did not try to stop him, basking in his warm embrace, lifting you up and giving you strength as he usually did. You closed your eyes letting another fresh trail of tears run down your face. “Love, please you are scaring me.” His voice broke, and he could feel the wetness gathering at the corner of his eyes. Your only response was to grab onto him tighter, hoping that if you brought yourself close enough to him, you would become one, and he would be able to understand how much love was running through your veins at the moment, how much respect and adoration, for the man that has constantly been by your side, the man who decided that playing with chalk that fateful day was what he had wanted, the man who decided that your loud mouth was worth loving and kissing every morning and every night. You broke away from his embrace to glance once more at the pavement. Feeling a new wave of tears gather in your eyes making your vision blur, you quickly wiped them away.

“Yes.” You sniffed as you looked up, your eyes locked with Yoongi’s teary ones. “Yes you silly man.” His smile widened little by little, until all you can see are his cheeks and his teeth. “Really?” the elatedness was apparent in his voice and in that moment you do not see a twenty eight year old man, you see the seven year old whose hand you took; the child with a broken leg you dragged along to play with you. The child whose hand you would take each year; the child whose hand would become your anchor, the hand you would get to hold forever. Nodding erratically you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips finding his.

As you kissed under the setting sun, two united souls, the sidewalk chalk writing next to you told the story of your future.

‘Will you marry me?’

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