#that sounds dope as hell to me

[cloverchameleon]

Seconding the above statement and then some - age plays a factor, but it really boils down to a matter of consent.

In the cases of ancient remains and dead cultures, situations where there is really no one left to ask for consent, that's free reign. Situations of old remains from living cultures, first and foremost comes respect for the traditions of the culture - if display would be considered an act of desecration to the living practitioners, that's a no go. That's a point to have a conversation with the relevant authorities to see what you can show for the information you want to share, such as maybe replicating funerary items without using actual items. If this is a person who exists in living memory, you absolutely need either their consent as a donation to science or the consent of the family, they have first and final rights to those remains - we have had a disturbing number of cases recently where people's grandchildren have had to fight to get remains back that institutions previously lied about having.

Indigenous and black bodies have been stolen with the justification of research so many times and some far too recently - it doesn't matter a speck how decayed the body is, what matters is if there is someone left to speak for the person that used to be and if they are willing.

The ethics of displaying human remains as museum objects

I'm writing an article for school about the ethics of displaying human bodies as museum objects and part of my thesis is that the public perception is slowly changing, and displaying mummies, bones, bog bodies etc is becoming something controversial.

With that, I want to know if that is actually true. So I was hoping that you would answer this poll for me. If I get enough votes, I'm going to use the poll in my article, so i hope you'll be willing to answer and reblog to spread it!

I know the answers arent super nuanced, but i want the results to be somewhat easy to navigate, as it'll make it easier for me to use in my article. The reason I'm distinguishing between bones and bogbodies/mummies is because i'm curious if peoples opinions are influenced by the fact that one looks more "human" and has a face, while the other does not.

No answer is wrong! This isn't a test of morality or a judgement on what you think, this is just an attempt to sus out what the overall opinion on this topic is

[pale-fairytales]

i. i listened to the villain song from Wish and. oh my god. that is not a fucking villain song. we're bein punk'd.

I'M GONNA JUST SAY THIS i think the concept for the villain was actually kinda interesting but I feel like the villain song needs to be rewritten ASAP and istg if the movie is as *incoherent noise* as the villain song, then i fell like it'll need to be redone/reimagined, too

Petition to remake the movie but in 2D animation, with a better storyline and a better villain song (i would even like to see people on the internet get together to make it happen)

[creatrixcymraes]

Baban appears to think that "hardcore" and "parkour" are the same word, or at least completely interchangeable 🤷🏻‍♀️

[deltaruminations]

my partner was in the reading room playing something on his guitar and violin and i was like why does this sound so familiar? and then i realized he was playing the freaking gaster sequence over and over like you guys i think that old man possessed my boyfriend :(

[diagonal-queen]

i think i made my entire grade batch worship me because i sent reviewers and flashcards for our final exams

- battery

dude i'm not even gonna lie to you, i did this exact same thing with my classmates- i mean not flashcards but i would go through the *entire syllabus*, simplify literally everything into short and digestible categorised notes that could be easily expanded upon, and sent them out to the classes who'd use them.

i did this thinking that it would make people like me (i was the loner kid) but like none of those guys have even thought about me since graduation so oof i guess lol

my point is those mfs better acknowledge your helping them with their exams!! also good luck! i understand how nerve-wracking they can be, but i'm sure you'll find them to be kinder than you expect (at least where i'm from, the practice exams are actually often harder than final exams). make sure to get plenty of sleep, drink and eat enough, and go easy on yourself!

[roach-works]

i want to specify that the problem isn't that my main medication can be used as a party drug (and one of the less fun ones, at that), the problem is that the united states government has been scapegoating addicts and consumers of recreational drugs for so long that, rather than spend money addressing the root causes of addiction (shit life syndrome) through social security or better shelters or safe use centers or ANYTHING they just make all amphetamines incredibly hard to access by people who need amphetamines in order to navigate a labyrinthine and ever shifting bureaucratic hell of unworkable phone trees. i had to basically pick up a third of a pharmacology degree just to access Pill That Lets You Do Things and i have to use it when im all out of Pill That Lets You Do Things.

every single month. every single month. forever.

im not mad at people who use amphetamines for fun, im jealous.

90s movies: Psychopharmacology is as good as a lobotomy. If you take pills to treat your mental illness it will literally murder your imaginary friends and you will become a boring, lotus-eating conformist drone.

Me after taking my meds: drives the scenic route home to see if there are any geese on the pond and does a little dance in line at the grocery store and comes home to throw everything​ in my fridge into a stew pot because I can finally taste food again while singing songs at my birds in which I replace all the instances of "she" with "Cheese" and doing a Dolly Parton impression on the phone to my sister

[yidiyada]

I am about to say something that is gonna sound so backhanded but like I really hope Gigi Hadid stays modeling into her old age cause she really would have such an air about her.

Look at these pieces from Chanel

Like obviously Gigi is 29 and her fave just looks older at that show because she’s just given birth and also yeah she fucked around and found out with some fillers but like I think it totally works for this look.

Those pieces only look good when worn with a more mature face and would look totally tacky on some 19 year old model.

People have been giving her shit all year for not being as skinny or as young as she was before before yk giving birth and shit but I’m totally into it. She DOES look comepletely different from her it girl hilfiger years and she DOES look older and I think it’s really working for her and I wanna see more.

[comradecowplant]

hm i started getting youtube recommendations for Castle Rat precisely around the same time i first heard of Chappell Roan and it has just come to my attention that she is not in fact the lead singer of Castle Rat 😬

[transmunsons]

Steve Harrington had known for a while that he was on thin ice. His parents let him change his hair and clothes and name after a harrowing night that ended with him in a hospital bed.

So he tried to behave. They couldn’t complain as long as he played the perfect son. He did everything right. He excelled at sports, he didn’t make a fuss, he even fell in love with a wonderful girl.

Though, things got a little rocky when his dealer left town and handed things over to the local freak show. When he went to pick up his bottles, Loudmouth Munson tried to get under his skin.

“Y’know I always had a feeling you were doping.” Munson said, leaning against the picnic table.

“Would you just hand it over?” Steve held out his hand for the containers Munson was keeping hostage.

“This is a lot, Harrington, you’d think Hawkins would have actually won a championship by now with you on this stuff.”

Steve resisted the urge to rip it from his hands. Munson grinned an insufferable smile, like he enjoyed how much Steve was glaring at him.

“I’m not taking it because of basketball,” Steve said.

“So why then?”

“I don’t have to tell you shit.”

“Dude,” Munson raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. Call it fair play. Didn’t think you’d be so sensitive about it.”

Steve’s hands were still itching to grab it. Munson seemed to notice how antsy he was, following his anxious gaze flickering between the package and Munson’s face.

“Don’t ya trust me, Harrington?” He said.

“Not even a little,” Steve replied. He felt a tendon jump in his jaw.

“Can’t handle the thought of not having your steroids? Some people actually need these hormones to survive, rich boy.” Munson’s tone switched from teasing to something more somber, or maybe bitter. It was hard for him to tell those things.

Under normal circumstances he would have never said what he ended up saying. Munson had a way of pushing his buttons.

“I need them.” Steve watched an ant crawl around a knot in the wood in front of him. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Nobody in this town would understand.”

Steve looked up at a shocked Eddie Munson and held out a handful of bills. “Give me my drugs, take your money, and don’t tell fucking anybody about this. You got it?”

Eddie didn’t move for a long moment, carefully studying Steve and his outstretched hand. His rings flashed as he pushed the package over to Steve’s side of the table and grabbed the money in one swift movement.

“‘Course, Harrington. You get dealer-dealee confidentiality just like everybody else.”

Steve was glad the transaction was over. He grabbed his hormones and stood up to leave when Eddie’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“You’re not the only one.”

Eddie looked very serious, dark curls brushing the tops of his furrowed brows. It was a good look on him.

Steve felt his hopes rise. There were others like him in town. But, how could he be sure that Eddie was talking about what he thought he was talking about?

“Munson,” Steve said cautiously, “I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

Eddie, still seated, crossed his arms. “I guess there’s no way to know for sure unless one of us says it plainly, and I’m sure as hell not going to. I don’t want to end up on the news.”

“You don’t trust me?” Steve echoed, quirking up the side of his mouth.

It got a small smile from Munson. “You don’t even know who it is; dealer-dealee confidentiality goes both ways. I can’t go around blabbing about what drugs everybody’s on, I’d alienate my customer base.”

“Then I guess we’re at a standstill.”

Eddie looked at him with a curious expression. “I guess so.”

Steve took a few steps away from the table, leaves crunching under feet, before turning around. He hesitated. Eddie looked at him with those dark brown eyes of his, which didn’t help his resolve.

“Eddie,” the man’s eyebrows raised at the use of his first name. Steve continued, “if you ever feel like blabbing, you know where to find me.”

Eddie stayed quiet for once, the sounds of the woods surrounding the two of them as they lingered.

“Same to you, Steve,” He finally replied.

[taurasiluvr]

WE GOT A DOPE LOVE, WE GOT A BOND THAT THEY SPOKE OF / TWO GUNS WE DON'T GIVE THEM HATERS NO LOVE ── BUECKERS⁵

how you can help palestine part one part two

★ i got a some requests for a last part for my paige fic, so here it is!! ★ "girlyy u shld add another part to ur paige fic where reader finally breaks up w her bf and ends up giving back to paige?? (p receives) queen ur literally feeding us rn🙇🏽‍♀️" /// "and NOW i think you should do a final third part of the paige x reader where reader leaves that bum ass boyfriend and finally gets with paige 😜😜"

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. homophobia (from ex), arguing, singular physical altercation (if you can even call it that), oral + fingering (r giving), lovey-dovey sex, break-ups.

 ⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 3.8k

 ⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p

you and your boyfriend walk hand-in-hand into the crowded gymnasium, paige's jersey clad on your body. as you made your way to the bleachers, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness. again, you were wearing paige's jersey, a silent testament to the bond you shared, and you knew it would be noticed by everyone, including your boyfriend.

he glanced at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. "you're really supporting her, huh?"

"mhm," you replied, squeezing his hand. "she's important to me, you know that."

he nodded, his expression softening. "yeah sometimes i wish i played basketball so you could support me like you do her," he joked as you gave him a nervous laugh.

the worst part of that was – you kind wish he did, too.

you found a spot in the bleachers, settling in as the players warmed up on the court. the sound of basketballs bouncing and sneakers squeaking against the floor filled the gym. you scanned the court, your eyes quickly finding paige; she looked focused and determined, her movements fluid and confident. you felt your lips curve up into a subconscious smile as you watched her, and it filled you with adoration knowing how much she loved this sport, it made you fall in love with her even more.

as the game began, you cheered along with the rest of the crowd, your excitement growing with each play. paige was on fire (per usual), her skill on full display. you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride every time she made a basket or a crucial play. your boyfriend cheered too, his competitive nature coming out as he got into the game.

at halftime, the score was close, and the tension in the gym was palpable. you turned to your boyfriend, who was animatedly discussing the game with the dad next to him. he seemed to be enjoying himself, and you felt a small sense of relief. maybe things were starting to settle down.

as the second half began, the intensity ramped up. UConn was behind by a few points, and the pressure was on. you watched her closely, her determination evident in every move she made. with just a few minutes left on the clock, she made a play, stealing the ball and driving it down the court for a layup that brought the crowd to its feet.

you jumped up, cheering loudly, your heart pounding with excitement. your boyfriend joined in, his enthusiasm matching yours. as the final buzzer sounded, UConn emerged victorious, the gym erupting in cheers and applause.

you made your way down to the court, weaving through the throngs of celebrating fans. paige spotted you and jogged over, a huge smile on her face. she looked radiant, her eyes shining with triumph.

"my god, that was insane!" you exclaimed, wrapping her in a hug.

"i know!" paige replied, her breath still coming in short gasps from the exertion. she glanced at your boyfriend and gave him a nod.

he smiled, watching the interaction between you two. "you played a hell of a game, never thought women's basketball could be that entertaining."

you cleared your throat, nudging him slightly as you gave paige a sympathetic smile. "babe," you gave him a sigh, earning a shrug from him.

paige laughed, ignoring the comment. "well uh, maybe that's your sign to watch more."

"yeah, maybe."

there was a moment of awkward silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. you felt caught between the two people who meant so much to you, each with their own place in your heart (at least, that was what you were trying to convince yourself).

paige's teammates called her over for a group photo, and she glanced behind her. "aaliyah's boyfriend is hosting an after-party, if you're down," she didn't really acknowledge your boyfriend, her gaze fixed on you.

your lips curved up into a genuine smile as you nodded, and it felt like it was just the two of you for a moment. "yeah, we're down."

"okay, perfect." paige grinned before she turned around toward the team. you watched her go, your heart swelling with a mixture of emotions.

your boyfriend squeezed your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. "babe, we have my function tomorrow morning, remember?"

"yeah, we won't stay out too late." your gaze stayed on the blonde before you glanced at your boyfriend, forcing a smile.

he nodded, though his expression remained wary. "okay, just don't want you to be too tired."

the drive to aaliyah's boyfriend's house was filled with a tense silence, your boyfriend focused on the road while you stared out the window, lost in thought. when you arrived, the house was already crowded, music and laughter spilling out into the neighborhood.

you spotted paige as soon as you walked in, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. she waved you over, her smile bright and inviting. "hey! so glad you guys could make it,"

"of course," you replied, returning her smile. "wouldn't miss it."

your boyfriend trailed behind you, glancing around the crowded room. "nice place," he commented, his tone neutral.

paige nodded, her attention shifting to him briefly before returning to you. "yeah, it's pretty great. come on, let's get you some drinks."

as your boyfriend found some of his friends, paige led you to the kitchen where a variety of beverages were spread out on the counter. as you poured yourself a drink, paige leaned in closer, her voice low. "you okay? you seem a little tense."

you gave her a small smile, grateful for her concern. "yeah, just a lot on my mind."

paige's eyes softened, and she gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "i'm here if you wanna talk."

"thanks, p," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you at her touch.

the evening wore on, and you found yourself relaxing more and more as you mingled with friends and enjoyed the party. however, there was an underlying tension that you couldn't quite shake, a constant reminder of the complicated situation you were in.

toward the end of the night, you found yourself alone on the back porch, taking a moment to breathe in the cool night air. paige soon joined you, her presence a calming balm to your nerves.

"needed a break?" she asked, leaning against the railing beside you.

"yeah, just a little overwhelmed," you admitted, staring up at the stars.

paige nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "i get it. tonight's been a lot."

you turned to her, the unspoken tension between you palpable. "paige, you know i... i think that, um..."

paige's attention was fully fixed on you now, her eyes never leaving your face. "you think what?"

before you could finish, the door to the porch opened, and your boyfriend stumbled out, his expression exhausted but he immediately straightened up as he saw how close you and paige were. "hey, there you are. everything okay, what's goin' on?"

you sighed, your frustration bubbling over as you glanced back at him. "yeah," you muttered, annoyance taking over. with a scoff, you shook your head and began walking back into the house.

your boyfriend seemed confused and maybe even a little angry as he glanced toward you and paige. "the fuck is up with your attitude all of a sudden?"

"god, nothing," you retorted, rolling your eyes as you tried to push past him. "get outta my way."

"no! you think i'm fucking stupid?" his voice grew louder, anger seeping into his tone. he blocked your path, his presence imposing.

"just let me through," you insisted, trying to sidestep him.

"you've been acting weird all night, and now i find you out here with her?" he jabbed a finger towards paige, who had been watching the exchange with a concerned expression.

"jesus, you're overreacting!" you snapped, the tension in the air thickening. "it's not what you think-"

"oh, really? cus it sure as hell doesn't look like it," he spat back, his voice rising. he grabbed your arm and pushed you back outside, his grip tight as you let out a yelp.

the force of his grip was jarring, and the sharp yank backward sent you stumbling. your breath caught in your throat as you struggled to regain your balance, the pain from his grip making your arm throb. paige's eyes widened in alarm, and she took a step forward, her voice urgent.

"hey, asshole, let go of her!" paige shouted, her tone steely as she tried to pull you out of your boyfriend's grasp.

his grip tightened around your arm, his eyes locked onto paige's as his face contorted with anger. "don't fucking touch her," he hissed through gritted teeth. "you think you can just waltz in and steal her from me? you're a fuckin' girl and you're over here, corrupting her."

"corrupting her?" paige scoffed, her voice firm, her hands raised defensively. "what is this, the fuckin' 60s? are you kidding me?"

your boyfriend's grip on your arm tightened once more, and he turned to face paige, his eyes flashing with rage. "stay outta of this, you little bitch."

the insult hit you like a physical blow, and you flinched, your heart pounding in your chest. "don't call her that!" you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion. "let go of me!"

"or what?" he sneered, his grip still unyielding. "think you can just walk away from me?"

you could feel your anger and frustration reaching a boiling point. "god, just shut up! you're acting like a complete asshole."

"yeah, and who's the one sneaking around with this bitch?" he shot back, his words dripping with venom.

"i told you to not call her that!" you shouted, your voice cracking with emotion.

"or what?" he stepped closer to you, his face twisted in rage. "you gonna leave me for her? is that it?"

before you could respond, paige stepped between you, her gaze locked onto your boyfriend's. "you need to fuck off!"

"oh, so you're her knight in shining armor now?" he sneered as he finally let your arm go with a push, causing you to stumble backward. "fuckin' pathetic. you think you can take her from me? you're just a sad, desperate bitch who can't stand that she'll never want you like she wants me."

paige's jaw clenched, but she didn't move. "i don't need to take her from you. you're doing a fine job of that yourself."

"fuck you," he growled, pushing paige back roughly.

"don't fucking touch her!" you screamed, before getting his face.

the aggression in his actions was the final straw for you. "we are done," you declared, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt.

he turned back to you, his eyes wide with shock. "what?"

"you heard me," you said, stepping away from him. "i'm done with this. i'm done with you, no more breaks no more... no more of this, i'm done."

your boyfriend stepped back, his chest heaving with rage. "you think this is over? you think you can just walk away like this?" he shouted, his voice echoing in the quiet night. "for a girl?!"

paige stepped forward, her expression nothing short of pissed. "yeah, it is. you needa leave her alone, seriously, this shit is getting bad."

he glared at paige, his jaw clenched. "you think you're so tough, don’t you? just wait. you'll see what happens when i get back inside."

"oh yeah? i'm not fucking scared of you, i don't care who you think you are," paige snapped, she'd had enough of this guy the moment she met him – this was her last straw. "but what you're not gonna do, is step into my fucking place and threaten me or my girl."

"your girl? you gotta me fuckin' with me," he let out a bitter laugh as he took a menacing step toward paige, his eyes blazing with fury.

paige didn't flinch, her stance firm and unyielding. "yeah, my girl," she said, her voice laced with a dangerous edge. "and if you think i'm just gonna stand by and let you grab her like that, you're fucking crazy."

he sneered, his face contorting with contempt. "you really think she wants you? you're just a pathetic rebound, a distraction."

paige's eyes narrowed, her fists clenching at her sides. "this isn't about what you think. this is about you being an abusive asshole who can't handle the fact that she deserves better."

the words hit like a slap, and he recoiled, his face twisted with rage and denial. "you're fucking delusional," he spat. "she'll come crawling back to me. you'll see."

"not if i have anything to say about it," paige retorted, stepping forward to close the distance between them. "now get the fuck out."

the air thick with unspoken threats and barely contained anger. you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, feeling torn and overwhelmed. this confrontation had been brewing for a long time, and now it was finally coming to a head.

he glanced at you, his eyes flashing with a mix of betrayal and desperation. "is this what you want? to be with her?" he demanded, his voice breaking with emotion.

you took a deep breath, your hands trembling. "i wanna be happy. i want to feel safe. and after tonight, i-i don't feel that with you."

for a moment, the silence was deafening, the only sound the distant hum of the party still going on inside. your boyfriend stared at you, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief, before finally turning on his heel and storming back into the house. the door slammed shut behind him with a resounding bang, the noise echoing in the quiet night.

you let out a shuddering breath, your knees feeling weak. paige wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "it's okay," she murmured, her voice soothing. "he's gone."

you clung to paige, the reality of what had just happened crashing down on you. the fear, the anger, the confusion – it all seemed so overwhelming.

"he'd... he's never grabbed me like that before," you murmured, your voice trembling as you clung to her. "never put a hand on me, ever."

paige held you tighter, her hand gently rubbing your back. "i'm so sorry you had to go through that," she whispered. "now you know his true colors,"

you buried your face in her shoulder, the tears finally breaking free. "don't know what to do," you admitted, your voice choked with emotion. "i don't know if i can handle this."

paige pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands and looking into your eyes. "you're stronger than you think," she said softly. "and you're not alone. i'm here for you, always."

you nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath. "thank you, p," you whispered.

she pulled you into a tight hug, her warmth and strength surrounding you. "you don't have to thank me," she murmured. "i care about you. and i won't let anyone hurt you, especially a 5"8 frat guy,"

you let out a tearful laugh, shaking your head as your grip tightened around her.

she gave you a small, reassuring smile. "come on, let's get you home and away from all this shit,"

you nodded again, allowing her to guide you back into the house. the noise of the party seemed louder now, a stark contrast to the quiet tension of the porch. as you walked through the crowd, you felt the weight of curious eyes on you, but paige's steady presence beside you gave you the strength to keep moving.

 ⠀ ── ⠀

"i'm sorry," you buried your face in paige's neck, the warmth of her bed comforting. the events of the night had left you emotionally drained, but here, wrapped in paige's embrace, you felt a sense of safety.

paige's hand gently stroked your back, her touch soothing. "you don't have to apologize," she said softly. "none of this is your fault, i promise."

you sighed, the tears still threatening to spill. "i just feel so stupid. i should have seen the signs, should have ended it sooner. i should have listened to everyone when they said he was toxic,"

paige pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. "hey, don't blame yourself," she said firmly. "it's not easy to see things clearly when you're in the middle of it. what's important is that you're safe now."

you nodded, grateful for her understanding. "thank you for being there," you whispered. "don't know what would have done without you tonight."

"you don't have to think about what could've happened," paige's expression softened, and she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "i'll always be here for you," she promised.

you felt a surge of warmth at her words, the sincerity in her voice reassuring. you looked up at the blonde, the warmth in her eyes making you feel fuzzy inside. "i have to find a way to repay you for everything."

"nah, you don't have to, princess." her lips curved into a smile. "you know i woulda killed him right then and there if you weren't there, baby."

the petname made your face flush as you smiled up at paige, your heart beginning to race. "not just for tonight... i meant all the times you fucked me good,"

paige let out a breathless at the vulgarity in your words, her own face flushing as she licked her lips as they curved into a smirk. "really, princess? you're gonna make me blush," she teased, her voice dropping to a playful whisper.

"mhm," you batted your eyelashes up at her, making paige let out a laugh. your hands travelled to her naked stomach, your hand flush against it. "let me make it up to you, p,"

paige's breath hitched as your hands moved against her stomach, your touch sending shivers through her body. her eyes darkened with desire as she looked down at you, her smirk widening. "oh, baby," she murmured, her voice thick with anticipation. "what do you have in mind?"

you grinned, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her collarbone, your lips trailing a path of fire down her skin. "think you deserve a little pampering," you whispered against her skin, your hands sliding lower, teasing the edge of her waistband.

paige let out a low moan, her hands tangling in your hair as she arched into your touch. "fuck, you drive me crazy," she breathed, her voice trembling with need.

you continued your slow exploration, your lips and hands working in tandem to elicit more sounds of pleasure from her. you could feel the heat building between you, the air thick with anticipation. "relax and let me take care of you," you murmured, your voice soothing.

paige's eyes fluttered shut, her breath coming in shallow gasps as you continued your ministrations. your heart raced at her sounds, a surge of desire flooding through you. your moved with purpose, paige's hands roamed over your back, her nails digging into your skin as she struggled to hold on.

you moved downward, finding your place in between her legs. her hand was weaving through your hair, her eyes fixed on your face. you moved her underwear to the side as you licked a stripe against slick pussy, earning a low groan from the blonde.

"fuck, keep lookin' at me like that," paige let out a breathless laugh as she gripped your head.

you looked up at paige, maintaining eye contact as your tongue moved against her. her breath hitched, and her grip on your hair tightened. "god, you're so good at this," she moaned, her voice breaking with pleasure.

encouraged by her reaction, you continued your movements, your tongue and fingers working perfectly to bring her to the edge. the taste of her arousal and the sight of her coming undone because of you sent waves of desire coursing through your body.

paige's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she struggled to maintain control. "don't stop, baby," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "fuck yeah, princess, oh fuck,"

you had no intention of stopping, your focus solely on her and the pleasure you were giving her. you increased your pace, your efforts rewarded by the way her hips bucked against you and the cries of pleasure that escaped her lips.

she was close, you could feel it in the way her body tensed and the desperate sounds she made. you began flickering your tongue against her clit, quickly pushing her over the edge. paige's entire body shuddered, her back arching off the bed as she came with a loud, guttural groan.

you kept going, drawing out her orgasm for as long as possible until she finally collapsed back onto the bed, her body limp and trembling. you moved back up to her, pressing soft kisses along her stomach and chest as she caught her breath.

"fuck, that was incredible," paige managed to say, her voice hoarse. she pulled you up to her, capturing your lips in a deep, sloppy kiss. "you're incredible."

you smiled against her lips, your heart swelling with pride and affection. "love making you feel good," you whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

paige's eyes softened, and she cupped your face in her hands. "and i love you," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "more than anything."

"i love you too, p."

paige's eyes glistened with a mix of love and contentment, and she pulled you into another tender embrace. you nestled into her warmth, feeling a sense of peace wash over you that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"let's just stay like this for a while," you murmured, your voice muffled against her skin.

"absolutely," Paige whispered back, her hand gently stroking your hair. "just you and me, no one else."

the two of you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside fading into insignificance. in that moment, it felt like nothing could touch you, like you were both cocooned in a bubble of safety and love.

after a while, Paige shifted slightly, her hand trailing down your arm. "how about we get some sleep?" she suggested softly. "its been a long night."

you nodded, feeling the exhaustion of the evening catching up with you. "yeah, that sounds good."

paige helped you settle into the bed, her movements gentle and caring. she tucked the blanket around you, then slid in beside you, pulling you close once more. you could feel her heartbeat against your back, a steady, comforting rhythm that lulled you into a sense of security.

"goodnight, princess," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

"goodnight, p," you replied, your eyes already drifting shut.

as you lay there, on the cusp of sleep, you felt a profound sense of gratefulness. despite the turmoil, you knew you had someone by your side who truly cared for you, someone who would stand by you no matter what.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[uravitypng]

denki's been whining to you all day that he wants to be inside you. you keep saying no, it's not safe right now and you keep forgetting to take your birth control, you're not risking it. "just the tip, babe." you give in after hearing him whine to you more, it's almost criminal how attractive he sounds. as much as you hate to say it he always gets you going, and he knows it.

you doubt your decision as denki practically tears off your clothes, groping you in the process. he's grabbing hold of one of your thick thighs and digging his palm in, seeing the soft malleable skin pudge in between his fingers. with his other hand, he puts it on you stomach, just resting it there. denki stares down at you hungrily after getting both of you undressed, before harshly pinching your nipples making you moan in surprise. "denki, what the hell. there's no need to be so rough." he chuckles and apologises but you don't think he really means it.

"just the tip, yeah?"

"yeah, yeah." denki promises as he slowly rubs his dick against your clit. "you're so wet babe, can't believe you keep saying no," he says as his pace quickens and he starts leaving kisses up and down your body.

"hey that's not fair, i-" denki cuts you off before you can start explaining and reiterate as he pushes into you, making you gasp. you go slightly light-headed at the feeling, he's touching you in all the right ways, kissing your neck and grazing his fingers over your skin. denki always has this effect on you, and he uses it to his advantage. you're his wonderful girlfriend that he cherishes but sometimes he needs to fuck you to make you see things from his perspective. to make you realise what you really need. he chuckles again as he sees your expression, all argument leaving your body and giving into him.

it feels so good as he's touching your clit but he suddenly pulls away, making you want his hands back on you. you look up at him to try to make eye contact so he gives in and see a glint in his eyes. before you know it he plunges into you completely. he's caging you under his body as he thrusts into you hard but slow, "this is just what i needed babe," he groans as you clench around him in shock. "you're amazing babe, feel so good around me."

still in shock all you can do is whimper and gasp, it feels so good but you know it's unsafe. it's so hard to focus on that with how good denki's making you feel right now. the last bit of resistance you have fades as you wrap your arms around his neck tight, dopely smiling up at him as your moans get louder and louder.

"fuck, i'm gonna fill you up okay." you start nodding, denki grins at you, you're looking so fucked out right now. "gonna get you nice and filled up, yeah? you're gonna look real fucking hot with my cum dripping out of you." you'll practically agree to anything currently, thank god you're dating denki and he'd never exploit that, right?

"cum for me, need to feel you." his words getting more direct and breathier with each sentence. he rubs your clit for a couple seconds and before long you're cumming, in doing so triggering his own, making him empty inside of you. denki collapses to the side of you while you both were attempting to catch your breath.

denki gets up grinning as he leads you to the bathroom. he turns on the shower and he helps you get in with him as your legs are still wobbling. you start showering together as denki starts cracking stupid jokes that never fail to make you laugh. he stops talking as he notices, running down your leg is him cum, immediately making him hard again. you realise what he was looking at, "please not again, i'm too sore." he laughs as he kisses you and promises you that after you've both had a shower you get to choose whatever you're both doing for the rest of the night.

you end up ordering pizza, denki's arms wrapped around your waist as you watch tv. "you okay, babe? i wasn't being too mean today was i?" denki questions leaning down to whisper in your ear, making your neck tickle.

you shake you head. "i'm okay, you are evil though." you say while sticking your tongue out. he smiles at you, looking so in love, it makes you blush. "don't try and 'just the tip' me again or you'll get a whack."

"yes ma'am."

you giggle as you readjust to get comfier in his arms.

[floralscented]

──ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpre-show pregame ㅤ ♫ ⋆ ｡ ♪ ₊ ˚ ♬ ﾟ .

manager!dean & sunshine. now playing ! greedy, tate mcrae. find sunshine's setlist here.

content warnings. pining. it's a warning bc it's BAD. also john winchester hate. but pls just consider that a given on this page.

he'd loved you since you were kids, dean did.

and he thought he'd been obvious. he thought he'd been obvious when you were both kids, and he'd handmake the dandelions you loved so desperately into rings ─ hell, he'd proposed to you with it.

but you were always destined for things greater than a childhood best friend from your small town you were always bound to outgrow. and so dean winchester did the most irrationally rational thing he could think of at the time, not wanting you to slip through his fingers like water.

he followed.

dean was actually still following you, trailing like a lost puppy.

"opener starts in ten," he says, flipping through the notes in his clipboard, "set should take around 40 minutes, give or take. that means─"

"i love you so much, dean," you say when you spin on your heel, and he's long past ever thinking those words will mean anything besides being platonic and useless to him, but it still makes his heart thump in his chest at the idea they could, "but you do not have to explain my set to me."

dean huffs his annoyance. "i was saying," he grumbles, grabbing a water bottle from the pack set up in the wings of the venue's stage, "before you rudely interrupted to try and be cruel to me ─ worked, by the way, gonna keep me up at night ─ that you have about an hour to eat, drink, do the social media thing, whatever you want. just in the hour constraint."

you were so pretty. your makeup was half done. you had the thickest layer of white powder underneath your eyes that he'd ever seen, and your lips were chapped, still. always chapped. because you're always running your mouth, he'd told you once. still true.

you weren't even dressed yet, either. there, on the rack outside of the dressing room he'd been following you to, was your allotted outfit. so glittery. everything was so damn glittery in the pop scene.

the things he did for you, really.

"you know i can't eat big before a show," you say, as if this is supposed to be new information to him, "did you get─"

"fruit tray, veggie tray, cold water, all already in the fridge."

"and─"

dean slow blinks at you. once, twice. "and your special good luck wine."

your smile is so grateful that it could make him a molten mess, right in the floor of sunset blvd's backstage area. you just had that effect on him, even when he wished that you didn't hold so much power. people looked at you and saw a star; dean looked at you and saw the stars.

he saw the little girl that climbed to the top of the monkey bars to balance on the thin bars, just so you had a wide enough berth to scream barbie movie songs at the top of your lungs to anyone who gathered beneath you. he saw a girl who burned through the school's printer paper to have sheet music of every song you liked. he saw a girl who used to come and sit on his bed while his dad screamed or snored downstairs, and sing half-finished songs to him while writing and rewriting their endings to cover up the sound of it.

they were still dean's favorite songs on your setlist, those ones that he watched come to fruition before his eyes. watching your passion bloom was prettier than any flower, made you prettier, somehow.

"dean?"

embarrassing. he clears his throat, straightens his spine, as if he hadn't just been caught in a daydream by the very person who haunted them. "go ahead."

"don't talk all professional to me," you chide, your lips giving way to the gentle tone of your voice, "i asked if you'd come in and have a glass with me. to celebrate."

your hand is closed around the big clothing rack, the door half open. dean's maybe not very observant when it comes to situations involving you, but he's also not a complete dope.

"you're changing."

you slow blink at him now. "and?"

dean does not know how to explain to you that this is a very bad idea. even if technically, the both of you were married by fairy forest law. you'd said that. he was just still playing make believe, still, whereas your ring fell off and into the thick green grass the same very day he'd given it.

so, he's incredibly mature, and instead says, "whatever." and follows you into your dressing room.

a chaotic mess of niceties, as always. all of your makeup is spilled out on the vanity, but it's not cluttered anywhere else but the vanity. flowers and fan gifts line the couch's arms and the coffee table. the tv is set to a nature documentary, a koala slowly eating a piece of bamboo while the narrator's voice rumbles lowly throughout the room.

two wine glasses in the center of the coffee table. horrible of him to let that get into his head. god forbid he start thinking you want him around and not just to monitor your performances and the finer details.

dean carefully slips around you to the mini fridge in one corner of the room. "just a glass, or─"

he never thought that something as simple as turning over his shoulder would cause so much regret within him. you, half naked, the oversized hoodie you'd shown up to the venue in halfway over your head. your bare stomach. your bare legs. the wire of your bra, now the cups, and─

he cleared his throat and turned away. dean needed to get his shit together.

"just a glass. it's the first show of the tour," your voice is muffled through that big ass hoodie, the big ass hoodie he knows you're currently changing out of, jesus, "can't be half drunk on stage. i'm not jensen or charlie."

right. his ( extremely one sided ) competition. what you, or they, didn't know couldn't hurt them.

so, instead of saying everything that starts spiraling when you bring them up, dean practices the underappreciated art of keeping the not nice words to himself, and moves to the wine glasses on the coffee table. fame hungry idiots, the voice in his head grumbles anyways as he pours one glass, egotistical pricks that don't deserve you, no one deserves you.

dean gives himself three minutes before he looks back at you again. just in case you're still practically strip teasing him, taking off your clothes painstakingly so.

no, you're in that sparkly dress now. the matching shoes sit beside your vanity amidst your chaos, right next to the chair you've planted yourself in. your eyes are lined dark, the white powder beneath them dusted away; your lips shine with pink gloss, no longer chapped but just as swollen. jesus. he's off his game.

dean watches as you swipe the lipgloss applicator across your plush bottom lip. he thinks he could die. "can't you tell," he starts slow, as if the words are pushing through his mouth without him being able to stop them, "that i want you?"

it's not the first time that he's confessed to you. but as always, you have this complex in your head, now, since getting famous, that seems to stop you from believing anyone could want you beyond what art you provide to them.

so it's no surprise when you meet his eyes in the mirror's reflection, a little smile pulled onto your lips, and you say, "i would want myself." your fingers lift and make a grabby hand for the wine glass he offered. "besides, what's to want? you already have me."

dean guesses you're right. still married, even if your ring has wilted and become part of the earth again. still married, even if your only obligation to him now is the fact that he works for you, or something like that. still married, even though he knows your hatred for the other bands under your label is a front. you don't look at dean like you look at jensen. you definitely don't laugh like you do with him like you do with charlie.

but who was he to be greedy? they didn't get to watch you put your ensemble together for your tour's first show. they didn't get to watch you eat blueberries that stain your lips brighter pink. they didn't know that the only thing that calmed your pre-show jitters was the national geographic animal documentaries.

so dean would wait, as he always had before, for his wife to turn the light back on for him, and lead him back into the forest, to the altar of their long forgotten vowed promises.

being greedy wouldn't get him anything.

song credits. making this an interconnected universe was such a good idea i cannot wait to write dean beefing (somehow LMFAO) with jensen. and charlie. but mostly jensen bc that's just so funny. wdym they're gonna look the exact same and never acknowledge it while they're throwing hands PLS.

sunny's monthly listeners. to play / pause on being tagged, comment sunshine! @titsout4jackles @moonstruksandco @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @itzavahere @sagegreen17 @bruceewayne @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @deansbeer @blushpinkdoll @warpedless @sabrinasopposite @k-slla @deansbite @foolinthera1n @honeyryewhiskey @angelblqde @whyyouegg @bluemerakis @fallbhind @jackleslvr @figthoughts @beausling @chevroletdean @mccartneyqp @bluestrd @sthefferrete @rubyvhs @tortureddarkstar @aileenunfiltered @frosttbitessam @theosaurous @blushpinkdoll

[fratttymatty]

Dumbgeons And DraGones

(all characters are 18+)

It was a rainy Saturday night, and the basement of Timothy Baxter’s house was alive with the sound of rolling dice, furious page-flipping, and exaggerated villainous laughter. Gathered around the ancient, coffee-stained table were five best friends: Timothy, Milo, Julian, Oliver, and Ezra. They were what everyone at Dalton High would call “the nerd crew”—gay, liberal, academically inclined, and utterly devoted to their twice-weekly Dungeons and Dragons sessions.

“We’ve nearly got it!” Julian declared, adjusting his glasses. “One more critical hit and the Dark Sorcerer is toast!”

“Let me cast Fireball,” Milo said eagerly.

“No, no, let me finish him off with Eldritch Blast,” Ezra protested.

While the boys argued strategy, three girls stood outside the basement window, peering in and giggling wildly. Cassie Winters, the queen bee of Dalton High, flipped her bleach-blonde hair over her shoulder and nudged her best friends, Lexi Carter and Tiffany Reynolds.

“OMG, you guys, they’re, like, so into this nerd game,” Cassie whispered.

“Totes embarrassing,” Lexi added, chewing gum with a dramatic snap.

“I know, right?” Tiffany said, pulling her hot-pink phone out to record. “Like, what even is Dungeons and Dragons?”

Cassie suddenly had an idea—one that would be, in her words, “so iconic.” She reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a small vial of pink liquid. Earlier that week, she had visited the town’s weird little crystal shop for “vibes,” and the shopkeeper had handed her the vial, calling it a “spell of transformation.” Cassie had no idea if it actually worked, but she loved the idea of using it for chaos.

“Watch this,” Cassie whispered, unscrewing the vial. “Let’s, like, make them cool or something.”

“What do you mean?” Tiffany asked.

“Just trust me,” Cassie said, pouring the liquid through the open window. It landed on the game board, shimmering as if alive, before seeping into the dice, figurines, and character sheets.

Inside the basement, the boys didn’t notice the strange glow overtaking their game.

“Final roll!” Timothy said, gripping the d20 tightly. He threw it, and it landed on a perfect 20.

“Yes! We did it!” Ezra cheered.

But before they could celebrate, the room started spinning. The game board erupted in pink light, and an intense heat filled the air.

“What the hell?” Milo shouted.

“Is this part of the game?” Julian asked, panicked.

The light engulfed them completely, and they blacked out.

When the boys woke up, everything felt... different. Timothy was the first to notice. He looked down at his hands—gone were his pale, wiry arms. Instead, he had tan, muscular forearms. He touched his face, which felt unfamiliar and... square-jawed?

“What’s going on?” he said, his voice deeper and smoother.

The others stirred, groaning and stretching. Milo’s once-curly hair was now a short, perfectly styled fade. Julian’s gangly frame was replaced by broad shoulders and washboard abs. Ezra’s glasses were gone—he didn’t need them anymore—and his delicate features had hardened into the rugged visage of a football player. And Oliver...

“Dude, I feel amazing,” Oliver said, flexing his new biceps.

They looked at each other, confusion giving way to excitement. Their nerdy clothes had been replaced by Dalton High varsity jackets, ripped jeans, and stylish sneakers. Their mannerisms shifted as well. Gone were the nervous fidgeting and rapid talking. Instead, they carried themselves with an effortless confidence.

“Bro,” Milo said, grinning. “This is sick.”

“Totally,” Timothy agreed. “Wait, Tim’s kinda lame. Call me Ethan now.”

“Ethan? That’s dope. I’ll be Matt,” Julian said, smirking.

Ezra, still examining his reflection in the basement’s dusty mirror, turned back to the group. “Yeah, and I’m Jake now.”

Milo and Oliver exchanged glances.

“Milo sounds like a nerd name,” Milo said. “Call me Ryan.”

“Oliver’s boring,” Oliver said with a laugh. “I’m Chase now.”

As they adjusted to their new personas, the basement door swung open. Cassie, Lexi, and Tiffany stepped inside, jaws dropping.

“OMG, it worked!” Cassie squealed.

“Whoa,” Tiffany said, staring at Ethan. “You’re, like, so hot now.”

“Thanks, babe,” Ethan said, flashing a dazzling smile.

Cassie wasted no time wrapping her arms around Matt. “You’re, like, coming to my party next weekend, right?”

“Obviously,” Matt said, already feeling like he belonged in her world.

By the end of the night, Cassie was dating Matt, Lexi had claimed Ryan, and Tiffany was all over Jake. Chase and Ethan, meanwhile, found themselves texting two other popular girls—Hailey and Brooke—about meeting up at the next football game.

As the weeks went on, the boys fully embraced their new lives. Their love for fantasy movies and indie music was replaced by action blockbusters and pop hits. Instead of discussing politics and social issues, they talked about sports and protein shakes.

The transformation was permanent, but none of them cared. They were no longer the nerdy outcasts—they were the kings of Dalton High, and life as jocks was totally awesome.

It was Friday afternoon, and the boys—Ethan, Matt, Jake, Ryan, and Chase—were lounging on the bleachers overlooking Dalton High’s football field. Cassie, Lexi, and Tiffany were draped across their shoulders and laps, laughing at every joke and sipping on iced coffees. Hailey and Brooke, who were now dating Chase and Ethan respectively, sat nearby, painting their nails and occasionally chiming in.

“Yo, so check this out,” Jake said, scrolling through his phone. “Apparently, the school board’s talking about letting the GSA put up some posters about, like, ‘inclusivity’ or whatever. Can you believe that?”

“Pfft,” Ryan scoffed, tossing a football in the air. “Man, that’s so stupid. Why do they need a whole club to tell people, ‘Hey, we’re gay’? Like, we get it. Nobody cares.”

“Exactly,” Ethan said, nodding as he draped an arm around Brooke. “It’s, like, do they think being gay makes them special or something? Just stop shoving it in everyone’s faces.”

“Right?” Matt chimed in, shaking his head. “It’s not like anyone’s out here making a ‘straight club.’ If they’re so ‘equal,’ why do they need their own group?”

Cassie giggled, flipping her hair. “You guys are so smart. Like, I don’t get why the school even lets them, like, exist. It’s so awkward.”

“And don’t even get me started on those girls from debate club,” Chase said, rolling his eyes. “They’re always whining about the patriarchy or whatever. Like, maybe if they weren’t such b****es, they’d actually have boyfriends.”

That got a laugh from the entire group, the boys high-fiving each other while their girlfriends giggled in approval.

Jake leaned back, smirking. “Yeah, they’re probably just bitter because no guy would touch them with a ten-foot pole. Girls are supposed to, like, be chill and hot, not try to act smarter than guys. It’s just basic facts.”

“Exactly,” Matt added, grinning. “That’s why you girls are the best.” He kissed Cassie on the cheek, and she squealed with delight.

The group laughed again, the boys reveling in their new personas. None of them missed their old lives—books, debates, and progressive causes were all a distant memory. Life was simpler now, and for Ethan, Matt, Jake, Ryan, and Chase, it was perfect.

(from left to right, row 2 to row 1: Chase, Tiffany, Cassie, Lexi, Ryan, Jake, Ethan, Matt)

[chelseaknoo]

90s Eminem x Victoria secrets model! Reader

Request: Hi, can I ask for a longer story (it can be short too if you prefer)? How about Marshal in the 90s with a Victoria Secret model, paparazzi catches a cute moment between them and Em's friends make fun of them and the fans and media are crazy to see a cute side of him, and then he reminds everyone at an awards show that his cute side is only with his girl...

Note:Sorry I couldn’t make it longer enough I hade to rush it

Marshall Mathers—better known as Eminem—had been your boyfriend for a few months now. The two of you meeting was nothing short of surreal, thanks to Dr. Dre’s matchmaking. Dre had noticed Marshall’s little obsession with you when he caught him flipping through magazines featuring your modeling work—Victoria’s Secret, Playboy, and others. At first, Dre didn’t say much, but when he saw how tongue-tied Marshall got every time your name came up, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

It all started the night Dre surprised Marshall backstage at one of his concerts. You had no idea you were about to meet the man himself, but Dre had convinced you to fly out, promising it’d be worth your while.

---

The room was dimly lit, a sharp contrast to the blinding stage lights that had been in Marshall's face all night. He had just stepped offstage after performing in Detroit, his home turf, with adrenaline still coursing through his veins. Dr. Dre was leaning against the wall of the dressing room, scrolling through his phone casually like he didn’t have a surprise up his sleeve.

“Yo, good set tonight, man,” Dre said, looking up.

“Yeah, thanks,” Marshall replied, wiping his face with a towel and grabbing a water bottle. “Crowd was hype. Detroit never disappoints.”

Dre smirked, tucking his phone away. “So, you remember how you keep talking about that one Victoria’s Secret model you like?”

Marshall froze mid-drink, side-eyeing his mentor. “What are you talkin’ about?”

Dre raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Don’t play dumb, Em. I’ve seen your magazines. You’re always like, ‘Man, she’s so fine,’ every time her ad comes on TV. What’s her name? (Y/N)?”

Marshall turned red, scowling. “Yo, why you gotta put me on blast like that? I ain’t sayin’ nothin’.”

“Relax,” Dre chuckled, pushing himself off the wall. “I ain’t clownin’ you… much. Anyway, I might’ve done somethin’.”

“What the hell did you do?” Marshall asked, suspicion lacing his voice as Dre made his way to the door.

Dre opened it slightly and leaned into the hallway, waving someone in. “Yo, come on in!”

Marshall watched in confusion, his brows furrowing. The door swung open wider, and there you were—dressed casually but effortlessly stunning. It was a stark contrast to the glamorous shoots he’d seen you in, but somehow, it made you even more breathtaking.

“Hi,” you greeted with a warm smile, your voice soft but confident.

Marshall’s jaw nearly hit the floor. He blinked several times, convinced this had to be some elaborate prank. “Yo, what—” he stammered, looking between you and Dre. “What is this? Are you serious right now?”

Dre clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Dead serious. Thought I’d help you shoot your shot, man.”

“Wait… what?” Marshall was still processing, running a hand over his buzzed blonde hair.

You stepped closer, extending your hand. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to finally meet you, Marshall.”

“Uh… yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you, too,” he said, shaking your hand like he’d forgotten how to function.

Dre leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, grinning like a proud matchmaker. “Told her you were a fan, Em. Turns out, she thinks you’re pretty dope, too.”

Marshall’s head snapped toward Dre. “You told her? Man, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Relax, man. She’s here, ain’t she?” Dre shrugged, unbothered by the flustered rapper’s reaction.

You laughed softly, the sound instantly easing Marshall’s nerves. “He’s right. I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to meet you. I’ve been a fan of your music for a while now.”

“You… have?” Marshall asked, the disbelief evident in his tone.

You nodded. “Absolutely. ‘My Name Is’ is iconic. And your flow? Insane.”

Marshall chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn, that’s crazy. I mean… thanks. I don’t even know what to say right now.”

Dre pushed off the doorframe. “Well, y’all have fun. I’ll leave you to it.” He shot Marshall a knowing look before disappearing into the hallway.

As the door closed behind him, silence settled between you and Marshall. He shifted awkwardly, trying to think of something clever to say but coming up blank.

“So, this is your hometown, huh?” you said, breaking the ice.

“Yeah. Detroit. Born and raised,” he replied, finally managing to meet your eyes.

“It’s cool to see where you’re from,” you said. “You must love performing here.”

“Yeah, it’s different here. The crowd’s wild, but it’s home, y’know?”

You smiled. “That’s awesome. I can tell you’re really passionate about what you do.”

Marshall felt himself relax a little, the initial shock fading. “Yeah, I mean… music’s everything to me. Keeps me sane, y’know?”

You nodded. “I get that. Modeling can be pretty intense, too. It’s nice to have something that keeps you grounded.”

He tilted his head, curiosity piqued. “How’d you get into all that? Modeling and stuff?”

You chuckled. “Kind of by accident, honestly. I got scouted when I was younger, and it just took off from there. But I love it. It’s given me opportunities I never dreamed of.”

Marshall grinned. “Yeah, like meetin’ me, right?”

You laughed, and he felt a surge of confidence.

“Exactly,” you teased.

The two of you spent the next hour talking like old friends, the initial awkwardness replaced by an easy connection. Marshall couldn’t believe Dre had actually pulled this off, but he wasn’t about to question it.

---

Months had passed since that unforgettable night when Dr. Dre introduced you to Marshall. What started as a whirlwind of nerves and uncertainty quickly blossomed into something neither of you could have anticipated. Now, you and Marshall were inseparable—a happy, albeit unconventional, couple.

Tonight, you found yourself seated in a cozy corner of a trendy Detroit restaurant. It was one of Marshall's favorite spots, lowkey and unpretentious. He had invited some of his closest friends, including Proof and Denaun, for dinner. The table was filled with laughter and conversation, everyone relaxed as plates of food were passed around.

Marshall sat beside you, his arm casually draped across the back of your chair, while his other hand toyed absentmindedly with the edge of his napkin.

“Yo, this mac and cheese is fire,” Denaun said, holding up a forkful. “Y’all need to try this.”

Proof leaned forward, squinting at Denaun’s plate. “That ain’t better than my grandma’s recipe, though. Don’t even start.”

Marshall chuckled. “Man, Proof, you’re always hypin’ up your grandma’s cooking. I’m starting to think she don’t even exist.”

“Say that again, and I’ll have her make a plate just so you can eat your words,” Proof shot back, laughing.

While the guys bantered, you were focused on your own plate, cutting a piece of the steak you had ordered. You noticed Marshall glance at your plate, his eyes lingering.

“You want some?” you asked, lifting the fork toward him.

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, but his gaze didn’t leave the steak.

You smirked, leaning closer. “C’mon, try it. It’s good.”

Marshall hesitated, then leaned in and took a bite. “Damn,” he muttered, chewing thoughtfully. “That’s better than mine.”

You giggled, cutting another piece. “Want another bite?”

“Hell yeah,” he said, and you fed him again, much to the amusement of the guys at the table.

“Yo, look at this dude,” Denaun said, pointing his fork at Marshall. “Marshall out here bein’ all soft with his girl. Feeding each other and shit.”

Proof snickered. “Man, I ain’t seen him act like this ever. You got him whipped, (Y/N).”

Marshall rolled his eyes but smirked. “Y’all just mad ‘cause you don’t have someone feedin’ you.”

You laughed, deciding to tease him a little. “Aw, don’t listen to them, babe. They’re just jealous.”

“Damn right,” Proof said with a grin. “But seriously, Marshall, I never thought I’d see the day. You’re out here lookin’ like a Hallmark commercial.”

“Shut up,” Marshall muttered, his cheeks tinged pink.

As the evening went on, the teasing continued. But you didn’t mind—if anything, you found it endearing how Marshall was willing to show a softer side around you, even with his friends present.

After dessert was served, you leaned back in your seat, feeling content. Marshall shifted closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. Without warning, he buried his face against your chest, sighing dramatically.

“Oh my god, Marshall,” you said, laughing as you glanced down at him. “What are you doing?”

“Damn, this is comfortable,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.

The table erupted in laughter.

“Yo, what the hell am I seeing right now?” Denaun said, nearly choking on his drink.

Proof slapped the table, wheezing with laughter. “I can’t! Em, what are you doin’? You look like a baby tryin’ to nap.”

“Man, let me live,” Marshall shot back, though he made no move to lift his head. Instead, he tightened his hold on you, clearly enjoying the position.

You shook your head, your hand instinctively brushing over his short hair. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he said smugly, glancing up at you with a smirk before resting his head back down.

“Bro, you really just gon’ let him do that?” Proof asked you, shaking his head.

You laughed, shrugging. “What can I say? He’s comfortable.”

Marshall grinned triumphantly. “See? My girl’s cool with it. Y’all just mad.”

“Man, this is gonna be all over the tabloids if someone sees,” Denaun joked. “Eminem: Rap Legend or Cuddle King?”

Marshall finally lifted his head, flipping him off. “Keep talkin’, and I’ll show y’all who the king is.”

The table dissolved into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but smile. Despite the teasing, the moment felt perfect—a rare glimpse of normalcy and joy in the chaotic life you shared with Marshall.

As the night wound down, Marshall leaned in close, his voice low so only you could hear. “Thanks for puttin’ up with my dumb ass.”

You smiled, brushing your lips against his cheek. “Always.”

And in that moment, surrounded by laughter and love, you realized there was no place you’d rather be.

The next morning, the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen filled the small house you and Marshall had been calling home for the past few weeks. You were scrolling through a magazine at the kitchen table while he stood at the counter, his back to you as he buttered a piece of toast.

“Man, last night was wild,” Marshall said, his voice groggy from just waking up. “I can’t believe Proof was clownin’ on me the whole time.”

You smirked. “To be fair, you did use me as a pillow in front of everyone. You were asking for it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively as he turned to face you. “It’s whatever. It ain’t like anyone else saw it.”

Just as he sat down at the table, your phone rang. You glanced at it, frowning. “It’s Dre. You want me to pick it up?”

Marshall shrugged. “Yeah, go ahead.”

You answered. “Hey, Dre. What’s up?”

“Man, tell your boyfriend to check the news,” Dre’s voice came through, half-laughing, half-serious.

Marshall raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to the phone. “What? Why? What’s goin’ on?”

“You tell me, Mr. Loverboy,” Dre shot back. “Turn on your TV.”

Marshall groaned, pushing back his chair to grab the remote. “What the hell is he talkin’ about now?”

You followed him into the living room as he switched on the TV. Almost immediately, a morning entertainment show flashed on screen, and there it was—photos of the two of you from the night before, clear as day.

One image showed you feeding Marshall, both of you smiling like you didn’t have a care in the world. Another showed him resting his head on your chest, looking completely at ease. The segment’s headline read: "Eminem Shows a Softer Side with a Victoria secrets model!"

“Aw, hell no,” Marshall muttered, running a hand down his face.

You tried to stifle a laugh. “It’s kinda cute, though…”

“Cute? Yo, they’re makin’ me look like a damn puppy out here!” Marshall exclaimed, pacing the room.

Dre’s voice crackled through the phone still in your hand. “A puppy? Nah, Em, they’re callin’ you a teddy bear. I’ve been gettin’ calls all morning askin’ if you’re droppin’ a love song next.”

“Yo, Dre, this ain’t funny, man!” Marshall yelled, though his tone betrayed his embarrassment more than anger.

“Oh, it’s hilarious,” Dre said, laughing. “I already know Proof and Denaun are gonna have a field day with this. You better brace yourself.”

Marshall sighed, flopping down on the couch and burying his face in his hands. “Man, this is gonna ruin me. My whole image is shot!”

You sat beside him, patting his shoulder. “Relax, it’s not that bad. People love seeing this side of you. Besides,” you added with a teasing grin, “I think you look adorable in the pictures.”

Marshall groaned. “Not you, too.”

Later that day, Marshall reluctantly went to the studio to work on a new track. As soon as he walked through the door, he was greeted by Proof and Denaun, both holding newspapers with the same pictures plastered on the front.

“Yo! Loverboy’s here!” Proof called out, waving the paper like a trophy.

Marshall scowled. “Man, shut the hell up.”

“You see these, though?” Denaun said, holding up his own copy. “Look at this one right here, Proof. My man’s got his head all up on her chest like it’s a damn hotel pillow.”

“Comfort Suites by Victoria’s Secret,” Proof added, laughing so hard he had to hold his stomach.

Marshall snatched one of the papers from Denaun, glaring at the images. “Y’all are mad annoying, you know that?”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Proof teased, slinging an arm around Marshall’s shoulder. “We’re just happy to see you happy. Even if it’s funny as hell.”

“Man, y’all act like you’ve never seen someone chill with their girl before,” Marshall shot back, shaking him off.

Dre walked into the room, grinning from ear to ear. “What’s up, Romeo? You finishin’ that ballad yet?”

Marshall groaned loudly. “Not you, too, Dre!”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me,” Dre said, holding up his hands in mock defense. “You brought this on yourself. But for real, Em, the pictures are blowin’ up. Fans love ‘em. They’re sayin’ you’re finally showin’ you’re human.”

“Man, I don’t care what they’re sayin’,” Marshall muttered, slumping into a chair. “This is just dumb.”

Proof sat across from him, shaking his head with a smirk. “You can act all mad about it, but we all know the truth.”

“And what’s that?” Marshall asked, narrowing his eyes.

“That you’re head over heels for (Y/N),” Proof said simply.

Marshall hesitated, his tough exterior softening for just a moment. “Yeah, so what if I am?”

The room went silent for a beat before Denaun laughed. “Man, I knew it! You really are a teddy bear.”

Marshall rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Whatever, man. Y’all just mad you ain’t got what I got.”

“True,” Proof said, raising his hands. “I can’t even argue with that.”

“Damn right,” Marshall said, leaning back in his chair. “Now, can we stop talkin’ about this and get back to work?”

The teasing continued on and off for the rest of the day, but deep down, Marshall didn’t mind. He had you by his side, and even if the world saw his softer side, he knew it was all worth it.

-

Today, Marshall was being nominated for best rap album.You couldn’t be more proud of him.

The night was electric. The atmosphere at the awards show was electric, filled with flashing cameras and glimmering lights. You and Marshall were seated side by side in the front row, both dressed casually but still looking as stylish as ever. Marshall wore his usual attire: a plain white T-shirt, baggy jeans, and a hoodie, with a signature pair of sneakers completing the look. Even without a suit, he exuded a kind of effortless cool, the same way he did when he first made a name for himself. His confidence, though unspoken, was undeniable.

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride every time you looked at him. This was his moment—the culmination of years of hard work, struggles, and sacrifice. You had been by his side through all of it, and seeing him nominated for an award only made your heart swell.

The ceremony was dragging on, filled with different categories and performers, but you were content to just be there with him. You leaned against him slightly, your hand resting on his leg under the table, giving him a reassuring squeeze every now and then. Marshall kept his cool, never showing any signs of nerves, but you knew how much this meant to him.

Finally, they announced the nominees for Best Rap Album, and the room fell into a hush as they prepared to call the winner. Your grip tightened on his hand as the name of the winner was read aloud.

“And the award goes to... Eminem!”

A collective cheer erupted from the audience, and Marshall stood up, the loudest cheer coming from his friends who were seated across the room. He gave a slight nod, his usual smirk playing on his lips as he walked toward the stage. You stayed in your seat for a moment, watching him, your heart racing. This was it.

Marshall accepted the award, his eyes scanning the crowd as he took the microphone, his face flashing that signature mischievous grin.

“Damn, I don’t even know what to say,” he began, his voice casual but carrying through the auditorium. “First of all, I gotta thank the fans. Without y’all, I wouldn’t be standing up here today. You guys keep me going when I feel like giving up, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.”

The audience erupted into applause. You could hear the whispers of excitement from the crowd, the cameras flashing, the whole room hanging on his every word.

Marshall paused, looking down at the award in his hands for a moment, as though soaking it all in.

“I wanna thank my team—Dre and everyone who had my back from the jump,” he continued. “Without you guys, I wouldn’t be here. This is all for you.”

More applause. He had the audience in the palm of his hand, as usual. But then, he glanced toward you, his eyes softening as he caught your gaze from the front row.

“And lastly,” he said, his tone shifting ever so slightly, but you noticed it, “I gotta thank someone special. (Y/N), you’ve been there for me through everything. You’re the one who’s been by my side, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

You blushed at his words, feeling the heat of the moment. The entire room fell silent as Marshall’s gaze never left you. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the love in his expression, and it made your heart swell.

He cleared his throat, the corners of his mouth quirking up in that playful way of his. “But… I gotta say one thing to everyone out here—my cute side… that’s only for (Y/N),” he said sternly, and for a moment, you thought he was about to drop a punchline.

The room burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but smile at his playful delivery. But then, there was a moment of silence, and all eyes were on him. The crowd had no idea what to expect next.

“You heard me,” Marshall continued, his tone still light but tinged with the confidence you loved so much. “That soft, cuddly, teddy bear side of me? It only comes out when I’m with her. So, don’t get it twisted, okay?”

The crowd roared with laughter and applause. Some of Marshall’s friends from across the room stood up, cheering loudly. Dre, who had been sitting behind you, raised his glass in your direction with a smirk. “Yo, that’s my boy right there!” he shouted, eliciting even more cheers from the audience.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your heart racing with pride. Marshall was a force of nature, and here he was, in front of thousands of people, being unapologetically himself. The crowd loved it. They loved him.

Marshall flashed a grin, his usual cocky attitude shining through as he held up the award. “But seriously, thanks to everyone who believed in me. This one’s for you, (Y/N),” he said, his eyes softening once more as he looked at you.

You smiled back at him, holding his gaze, feeling your heart swell with affection. He always knew how to make you feel special, even when the spotlight was on him.

The applause continued, but this time, it felt different—more genuine. Marshall had managed to not only win an award but also to share a moment of vulnerability with his fans. They had seen the tough, no-nonsense side of him for years, but tonight, they got a glimpse of the man who was also deeply in love and unapologetically devoted to the one person who understood him.

He stepped away from the mic, raising the trophy in one hand. “Alright, that’s enough outta me,” he said with a smile. “Now let’s get outta here before they start handing out the ‘Best Couple’ award.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, and the audience chuckled with you. Marshall had a way of turning even the most sincere moments into something playful.

As he walked off the stage, the audience still clapping and laughing, Marshall turned toward you, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“You good?” he asked, grinning like he hadn’t just turned an awards ceremony into a personal love fest.

“I’m more than good,” you replied, reaching up to pull him down into a kiss.

“Yeah, I’m lucky as hell,” he murmured against your lips, and you could feel the warmth of his words in the way he held you.

your lips curling into a flirtatious smile. "There’s gonna be a second award for you tonight… but it won’t be for your music."

Marshall raised an eyebrow, the playful tension between you two palpable. He leaned in closer, his lips curling into a smirk as he matched your tone. "Oh yeah?" he replied, his voice low and teasing. "What kind of award are we talkin' about here?"

You kept your eyes locked on his, letting the anticipation build. "Well, let’s just say it’ll be more personal," you said with a wink, your hand subtly brushing against his arm. "I think you’ve earned it."

He chuckled softly, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "Damn, you’re bold," he muttered, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, "I like it."

You could feel his breath on your skin, and the way his body instinctively leaned toward you sent a thrill down your spine. "Just wait, Marshall. Tonight, you’re gonna get a taste of a real reward."

His lips curved into a satisfied grin. "I’m definitely looking forward to it," he murmured, his voice husky with that unmistakable mix of confidence and desire. "You always know how to keep me on my toes."

With that, the two of you shared a quick kiss before heading back to your seat. But you could feel the heat between you both, knowing the night was far from over. As the awards show continued, all you could think about was the "second award" you’d be giving him later.

[weebsinstash]

There's an unconfirmed theory that the love potion Velvette and Valentino sells is his spit, and literally just the spit in his mouth is a doping aphrodisiac

Like ok here's something I've considered. Say you're a new Sinner in Hell. You meet him night ONE down there. You've got nowhere to stay. You're watching people be stabbed and robbed outside, but here in the studio, you're sitting with this Mr Valentino who you just met. It's obvious that he's fucking trouble but he's a much more welcoming option to the unhinged chaos outside (especially if you're a woman, being without shelter is WOOOF dangerous)

It really depends on the person, but technically, isn't "sleep with me and I'll give you a place to sleep for the night" like actually an incredibly lucky almost one sided deal in this context?

So Reader agrees. It's- It's just sex right? It isn't... THAT bad? But little do you know, even just kissing him can turn your mind to mush. He's got his tongue in your mouth and, he suddenly starts asking all these really intimate, personal questions. You've already been drinking, and now with his red hot aphrodisiac delivered straight into your mouth, you're basically hopped up on ecstasy. One minute you're talking with Angel, not sure where you're going to go, the next, you're in Valentino's lap, willingly letting him shove his tongue down your throat, drinking after him, taking shotguns of smoke from his cigarette while he asks you how many times you've had sex, what your favorite positions are, just... he'd have you in the palm of his hand.

There's an Angel Dust fanart comic about Val luring AD into the room where he has aphrodisiac burning like an incense and Angel is being drugged just standing in the room and I can totally see Valentino doing shit like this. He's just chilling with some of his girls and they're all sitting around basically making out and being horny and drinking and doing drugs, and Valentino is still making you fetch him drinks. At some point you're standing there and he sees you wobble a bit and he realizes you're getting the secondhand smoke and suddenly he's intimately curious how you look and sound when you're embarrassed and starts teasing you and becomes addicted to it

Valentino is a sadist. You want me to believe he'd see Reader there hot in the face and starting to sweat and suddenly nervously giggling at all of his flirtatious comments and filthy questions and he WOULDN'T start groping you up just to hear you squeal for him to stop? Please. And then once you're all loopy and easily manipulated, then he'll start laying on the charms, the compliments, the promises. He could treat you so well, baby, and all you have to do is just have a nice little... cuddle session with him once or twice or dozens of times :3c and he always gets you so fucked up first that, really, his offers just sound like the most fun in the world...

[queers-gambit]

Pretty Boy Swag

prompt: your big ass family comes to town and hosts a town-wide family reunion. after they meet your boyfriend for the first time, your proximity is criticized, and when you try to fall back, Eddie's swift to your side again. -> or when someone else calls you clingy, you try to fall back but your man doesn't want that.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 6.2k+

note: AQPDO got me back on my Joe kick, Goddamnit

warnings: Eddie being the man we all want and deserve, kinda AU timeline (Eddie lives, Vecna still happened, and school is back in session? it confused me too, but fuck it we ball). shitty family members being judgmental. the fuck is this plot? idk her. there's insecurity, drama, anxiety, obviously some angst, but mostly hurt / comfort. drug use (it's Eddie, c'mon), kinda abrupt ending, author's lowkey a pyromaniac and advises you do not play with fire or gasoline.

The summer was soon to end, leaving behind a muggy, thick heat that broke several air conditioning units around town from power usage. Windows were left wide open for cross breezes, doors, too; and fans were cranked up high. There was a rather nasty storm on the way in, but luckily, with it, came the usual drop in temperature - just in time for the coming week's activities. The last week of summer before the dreaded school year began anew, but luckily, it was officially senior year.

Eddie jogged up the rickety porch stairs and opened the unlocked screen door that was close to rusting off its hinges; the front door open and an oscillating fan turned on to blow a breeze at Ed.

The door swung open without effort, banging loudly and making Wayne glance up, "Hey, kid."

"Hey, Unc."

"There's a sandwich in the fridge, if you're hungry," Wayne cleared his throat, smoking a cigarette at the tiny coffee table covered in stacks of bills.

"Thanks," Eddie mumbled. "Here," he dropped a small wad of bills to the table.

"The hell's this?" Wayne scoffed, glaring up at the kid - who shrugged.

"Should be enough for utilities and water, maybe a bit for groceries," Eddie answered, grabbing a beer from the fridge and sighing with a grunt as he dropped into the arm chair.

"You selling dope again?"

"It's consistent money."

"You know I don't like that shit, kid."

"Which is why you don't see it - you just get the cash."

Wayne scoffed in amusement and smirked, nodding while releasing a deep sigh. "All right, uh, thanks, kid. I appreciate this."

Eddie nodded, brows furrowing as his mind whirled from his excursion in town; musing, "Something's gotta be in the air."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Tell you what, people are... Really in the market to buy this week. Everywhere I went was so crowded - I couldn't even get Goddamn cigarettes - "

"Watch your mouth, boy," Wayne reprimanded automatically. While he was all too used to Eddie's foul mouth, he still didn't like him using the Lord's name in vain. "It's all that, uh, anticipation," Wayne shrugged, dividing a few cash bills to an envelope, "got people all excited."

"Anticipation about what?"

"For the L/N Reunion."

"The what?"

Wayne looked up, offering a stale look, "L/N? Your girlfriend's family?"

Eddie sounded exasperated, "I know that - I'm asking what the hell you're talking about?"

"The L/N family, they've lived in these parts for generations. So, when they have these, like, uh, family reunions, it's an entire town-wide event. Everyone tries to go. I guess you must've been... Oh..." He shrugged, "8 or so last time they were all here. Whole place gets energized, they all participate; you know, it's a big cookout and shit."

"Right."

"It's usually a good time," Wayne assured, taking another drag. "And when it's not, it's because it's a really good time. They use the field out back behind Sullivan's old place?"

"No shit," Eddie chuckled, taking a slug.

"Uh-huh," Wayne hummed, the cig bobbing; ash dropping to dust the bills. "They get a bunch of tents and shit; catering, too - it's like a big carnival. Heard some might drive some caravan in." Eddie was briefly reminded of his adventures in the mobile home with Steve Harrington and Company, yet there was no time to dwell because Wayne was questioning, "Your girl didn't say anything to you 'bout this?"

Eddie's head slowly shook, "No, but she's comin' over tonight."

"I got work."

"I know."

Wayne chuckled, "Which reminds me, I grabbed you a box of condoms."

"Oh, Unc, no!" Eddie begged with a groan.

"You're too young for a baby, Eddie!"

"Doesn't mean buy me condoms, old man!"

"You could just say thank you!"

"I'm not thanking you for condoms!"

The screen door hit the frame in a startling bang, the thin metal slipping from your shocked grip. You stepped into the trailer home, giggling, "Whaaaat the hell did I just walk in on?"

"Oh, hi, baby," Eddie greeted in a grumble; one hand wiping his face, trying to hide his embarrassment, "so glad you heard that!"

"Hey, honey," Wayne followed, you stepping inside and depositing your usual purse by the door.

"Everyone okay?" You asked teasingly.

"Yeah, Eddie's bein' dramatic again," Wayne spoke casually. "Hey, I, uh, I heard about the Reunion. That's gotta be real excitin', 'uh?"

"Oh, God," you groaned lightly, Eddie straightening himself up to invite you onto his lap. "Honestly, Unc? I was hoping this might be the one place in town I could escape from talking about that."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't - "

"No, no, I only mean, it's been nonstop in my family," you pouted. "Everything's gotta be perfect, so there's this, like, palpable tension, which makes it a madhouse, you know, 'cause everyone's coming into town. It's peaceful here."

"They all stayin' at yours?" Eddie asked softly, acutely aware and in-tune with your tangible anxiety; deflating himself and his energy to better absorb yours.

"Yeah," you pouted.

"All of them?"

"Until the festivities kick off, then most are gonna camp."

Wayne frowned, "When was the last time you saw 'em all?"

You breathed deeply, mulling his words while Eddie took a swig of beer; fingers flexing to pet where he held your hip. "Years ago," you answered, "and while it's really nice to spend time with them all, it's just..." You trailed off, frowning.

"A li'l much?" Wayne supplied.

"In the simplest terms, oh yeah," you sighed deeply. "I'm really grateful to still have time with them, don't get me wrong, but Christ Alive. There's four people in my room, we have two cousins in the attic, there's an Auntie in my parent's room, another couple in the basement - it's an absolute mad house!"

Wayne nodded with sympathy, seeing the way you pouted and dropped into Eddie's chest under his chin. His brows instantly crinkled, collecting you closer into his chest in comfort; keeping you curled across his lap. Wayne glanced at the wad of bills Eddie had contributed and sighed, gathering up both paper and cash bills. As he cleaned up around him, Wayne spoke, "You can, uh, stay here, if you wanna."

"Huh?" You gaped, looking at Wayne in earnest shock. "No, no, no, it's not - I just meant to complain to get it off my chest, you know? I wasn't fishing for - "

"I know, honey, but I can physically feel your stress from here," he chuckled. "Tell you what, if you agree to make dinner, you can crash here for the week."

With a grin, you nodded, "Your bodies might go into shock, I'm gonna force y'all to eat vegetables."

Both men laughed in amusement, the tension melting as you were obviously relieved by the fact that you wouldn't have to stay at your family home for the duration of the Reunion. It loosened you up, the trio happy to indulge in witty, harmless banter before Wayne was filing the bills in a mucked-up manilla folder. He stood to get ready for work, leaving you and Eddie in the armchair.

"Can I ask a favor?" You whispered into his neck, slowly pressing open, languid kisses to the sensitive skin.

"Anything you want, baby."

"I should go pack an overnight bag."

"Want me to come, too?"

"No, no, I was gonna ask you to go grab us dinner while I was gone," you mused, smirking gently; his head tilting back and sighing through his nose. "Oh, don't - "

"No, no, baby, it's fine," he scoffed, "we've just been dating 4 years and I haven't met your family. Like the whole family."

You scoffed, "So?"

"Do you not, you know, like, want me to?"

"I think it's more really not wanting you to meet them, Eddie - it's different."

You tried to stand, but his arms were like vices; keeping you in place and speaking softly, "Baby, how? Don't you think it's time? Nothing - not even your family - is gonna make me love you less. Plus, like, isn't the whole town invited to this Reunion?"

"I mean..."

"Did you think we were gonna avoid each other the whole week?"

"I was kinda hoping we wouldn't even go, if I'm honest," you admitted sadly, "but I'm a really good girlfriend, so we're going 'cause I know who would be most inclined to buy whatever product you might have left."

"Wow, you're gonna bring me new customers? Your family, too, huh?"

"Who said anything about family?" You smirked.

"Baby," Eddie sighed, pinning you with the beginnings of his puppy dog eyes, "if you're embarrassed, you can just say that - "

"Of what? Of you?"

"Well, yeah, or of us."

"Eddie, that's the farthest thing from the truth!" Guilt sounded through your words, "Baby, I love you - but I know my family and I don't want them to, like, infect you."

"Not possible," he hummed, bringing you in close to press a kiss to your lips in reassurance.

Not wanting to dwell, you quickly changed the subject and whispered against his lips, "Will you please go pick up a pizza from Reggie's?"

Eddie's head reared back slightly, his expression morphing into confusion, "Reggie doesn't sell pizza, baby."

"He does for me, I'll call it in if you can pick it up. It's just in the opposite direction of my house."

"Baby gets what baby wants."

You scoffed a laugh, kissing him again and standing finally, offering your hand to him; helping yank Ed from his seat just as Wayne was reappearing. After calling Reggie, you all left at the same time, shuffling out into the parking lot together to bid Wayne goodbye; waving as he drove off. Then, Eddie swiftly huddled you into the backdoors of his van; holding your legs around his hips.

Shocked laughter racked your lungs, holding onto his shoulders as he nuzzled directly into your neck and balanced your weight in his arms. He breathed in deeply, you petting the back of his head, both feeling yourselves recharge; usually trying to refrain from these grand gestures of PDA in front of Wayne. "Missed you today," Eddie mumbled, lips tickling your ear, causing you to slightly squirm.

"We were apart all of, what? 4 hours?" You mused quietly with a grin.

"Too long," he whined.

"I know, pretty boy. Which is why we have to hurry up - the faster you go get dinner and I go home, the faster we can come back here. I'm thinking... Blunts and movies tonight?"

Ed lifted up, your chest feeling cold from his retracted heat; but his face was calculating, then agreeing, "Yeah, we gotta go, let's go, c'mon, let's go, let's go, let's go!"

Max could hear your laughter from where she pet her neighbor's dog.

Honestly? The only thing missing from the Reunion were actual carnival game prizes - like stuffed animals, goldfish, novelty gags, sports team embroidered plush memorabilia.

There were caravans of RV's - both rented and owned - lined up with cars of all shapes, sizes, colors, and passenger capacity; Christmas lights strung up around them like spiderwebs. Patio tables were erected to host intimate groups of people while banquet tables were used to boast an array of foods and drinks. Different speakers were set out and connected, playing the same soundtracks - while others at other distances played different genres. The soft ground from previous rain had hardened from the amount of feet (of all sizes) stomping over the mud and grass. Solo cups dotted the area like stars splatter the sky.

Oh! There was also a clown missing! The Reunion did not hire a clown - unless you count Uncle David...

"You scared yet?" You asked, sitting in the open passenger seat of Eddie's van, the back doors wide open to host the attending party members. Eddie was leaning at the hinges beside you, facing the back of the van, quickly dropping his gaze onto you and straightening up.

Eddie shifted subtly, side-stepping so he stood in front of you for a semi-private conversation. "Oh, please, think I'm the scariest guy 'round these parts. Your family's harmless."

"Oh, uh-huh," you mused, scoffing a small chuckle before taking a lazy pull of your red solo cup; matching those scattered in the field. Don't worry, though, 'cause your cousins were Litter Bugs and would pick up any and everything they come across when clean-up commenced. It was a rule of the Reunion - leave the area better than you found it.

"You good, baby?" Eddie asked softly, trying to keep his voice quiet; which was easy, since Robin and Steve were cracking boisterous jokes to the group.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," you nodded, eyes glazed as you peered over Eddie's shoulder to survey the absolute (controlled) chaos your family entertained.

"Yeah, 'cause that's so convincing."

You sighed and leaned forward some; legs hooking around Eddie's and encouraging him forward so your chin rested on his sternum. "I promise, I'm okay," you whispered with a smile, "just a little overwhelmed."

He nodded, petting a loose strand of hair off your face. "You've not really seen your family much," he noted, "been hiding here with us the whole time."

"I'll... Get around to it."

"When?"

"Eddie," you sighed, pulling back to still look up at him - curse his gangly frame.

"C'mon, baby," he pouted, "come introduce me to your family. Huh? I think it's time, I'm excited."

You felt frozen for a moment before Dustin's voice was whining, "When's dinner? Whole field smells like good eats."

Eddie pinned you with a small 'told you so' look, chuckling as you groaned and nudged him back a little to slide from your seat. "All right," you announced to the group, "c'mon, let's go mix and mingle. Play nice and they'll feed you."

You didn't even hear the small chorus of chuckles as your ears blasted the hammering sound of your nervous heartbeat. You cleared your throat as the group grabbed their things, Steve and Eddie closing the van doors before congregating together to begin stalking across the mud. With the red solo cup in one hand, your other was snatched swiftly by Eddie - tugging playfully to jolt you into his side and secure his arm around your shoulders.

You could see Hopper and Uncle David laughing almost to the point of tears; both with beers in hand, several others dotting around them to share in mirth. Wayne was tearing into a bacon cheese burger with an ice cold beer and a table full of "uncles" - or family friends you just called "uncle". Joyce Byers was playing corn hole with that PI the Hollands hired, Murray Bauman, to find their daughter, Barbra, years ago when Will Byers first went missing, too. They were being cheered on by a sea of cousins - all heavily intoxicated and keeping score on a chalkboard. The Wheelers were seen playing a few table games; Holly happy to play with your aunt's Australian Shepard, Auggie, while her parents were distracted. The Sinclairs were dancing together under the strung Christmas lights, Erica accepting a gargantuan size cotton candy to share with a few friends. Well, honestly, with the way she was eyeing the sugary treat, you wouldn't be surprised if she inhaled it all by herself.

"Hey now, baby girl! Ova here!" You heard, glancing over automatically just to catch sight of your father waving you over to where he and his siblings stood with a few cousins, your mother, and a couple siblings.

"Baby," you mumbled, squeezing his hand. He instantly parted from Steve and followed you; both missing the looks exchanged amongst your family, a few perking their brows swiftly and others even rolling their eyes. "Hey, guys," you greeted kindly when you arrived around the patio table.

"There she is!"

You were happily received by your loved ones, exchanging pleasantries before automatically returning to Eddie's side. "Um, hey, guys, can I introduce you to my boyfriend, Eddie?" You made the proper introductions, holding his arm as he offered his dominant hand to shake as he greeted the family members he had begged you to meet.

"Got you this," your father purred, handing you a full plate of ribs and all accompanying fixings.

"And this, for Eddie," your mother handed you his plate carefully. "You know Cooper's cookin' goes first."

"Thank you, guys," your boyfriend appeared as if out of thin air over your shoulder, leaning in to peck your mother's cheek. He straightened up to shake your father's hand and take both plates from you as your sister stood from her seat.

"Here," she waved, letting you take her spot because it was the only place beside an open seat so you and Ed could sit together.

Darlene, some distant cousin, daughter of your Aunt Rebecca, scoffed, "What? You two have to sit right next to each other?"

You pulled a face, "Girl."

"It's no biggie," your sister instantly defended, "and it's Eddie's first time here, can't let him sit alone."

"Mhm," Darlene snickered, your hand subtly latching onto Eddie's thigh to give a comforting squeeze. He dropped a quick wink, leaning over to take a fork full of baked beans from your plate - humming obnoxiously when he ate it.

Before you knew it, a couple hours had passed, the sun setting, and the bonfire was being structured. In fact, your name had been hollered for aid, looking to Eddie out of habit. He smirked at you, petting the hand he held with his thumb, nodding slightly - not in permission, but in assurance. Before either could say something, your Aunt Rebecca mused (but really scolded), "Oh, Jesus Christ, you two! You're not gonna fall apart if you're not together 20 seconds, he'll be fine to hang while you get the fire goin', girl. Go!"

You bristled at her tone, but only minimally rolled your eyes at Eddie before pecking his lips as you stood from the chair you had been offered. "Be back, baby," you whispered, and as you straightened up, raised your voice, "don't listen to a single thing they say and don't let them bully you!"

Laughing over jeers, you offered your middle finger, slapped your hand into Cousin Allison's, then skipped towards the wooden teepee pyre. Turns out, all "adults" were too intoxicated to deal with the bonfire and your cousins all too nervous to use gasoline - hence why they needed help. So, you playfully pushed them back and fixed the structure; stuffed kindling in ideal places, sprinkled a responsible amount of gasoline, and with a piece of old newspaper, used a lighter to ignite the flame. Then, when it caught, you carefully used it to catch along the gas-soaked kindling. Once that initial contact was made, you dropped the paper and stepped back because, a moment later, the entire pyre caught flame with a small but defining whooshing sound.

The cousins cheered you on, amusement shared as Cousin Maxwell handed you a fresh solo cup as a reward. You blew past the praise, knowing they were just being dramatic for humor's sake; making your way back towards the group you had left - intent on making s'mores with Eddie. Except, Aunt Rebecca stood to meet you, just enough of a distance away that her words weren't overheard.

"So," she smiled, "he seems real nice."

"Hmm?" You took a sip of your drink.

"Your boyfriend."

"Oh," you nodded, "yeah, no, he's arguably the nicest guy I know."

"Even more than that Harrington fella?" She asked, eyeing your friend and twiddling her fingers flirtatiously. Steve smirked and waved back.

"Uh-huh. C'mon, Auntie," you nudged her, "your husband's right over there."

"He's fine," she scoffed.

"Well, all right - "

"Hang on," she halted you from leaving, seizing your arm. "I was just wondering, you know, how nice a boy can be with all them tattoos? I mean, only delinquents defile themselves like that."

You scoffed, "I seriously doubt inking your skin is an indication of kindness in a person - but that's a good one."

Rebecca halted your departure again by asking, "Well, how healthy do you think this is?"

"Be more specific, Auntie."

Her eyes rolled, "Your relationship, girl, pay attention."

You chose not to engage fully, just sighing, "It's the healthiest relationship I've ever known - not much thanks to you, since nobody in this family would know a healthy, functional relationship if it punched them in the face."

With a fake smile, you pulled your arm from her grip and only managed two steps before she was sneering, "You sure it's healthy the way you cling to him?"

"What was that?" You asked, slowly turning to face her.

"You're so clingy, it's actually concerning! David, Kyle, Bethany, Darlene, Casey, and Tom all agree with me, and not to mention, your mother told us that's normal behavior for you two - which is just a red flag, sweetie. You're lucky, though, 'cause when I was your age, my mama would've slapped me silly if I hung all over my boyfriend like that in front of her. You know it's distasteful, right, honey? Men don't like that - they don't want girls who are desperate for love that they claw onto them."

"I'm not clawing - "

"Whatever you're doing, sweetie," she mocked, "it's not a good look. I can smell your desperation - you do know, there's gonna be more boys later. This Eddie guy? He's not your end all, be all. First loves are fun, sure, but this is where you make your mistakes - so, take notes and then try not to do the same shit with your next man. Okay, pumpkin?" She patted your upper arm as if a child winning a sports participation trophy. "The kid is nice and all, but he's not gonna last, honey. Women in our family are prizes, you see, so, it takes a real stud to earn us - not some long-haired, tattooed punk. Don't embarrass this family anymore than you already have by thinking this is a sustainable relationship."

You slapped her hand away and stepped into her space, snarling, "You wanna try that again?"

Eddie glanced over and saw the two of you; needing a double take when he realized how tense the exchange looked. "Shit," he whispered, sitting up in attention while nudging Steve.

"Huh?" Eddie pointed, Steve turned, and after a beat, repeated, "Shit."

Rebecca stuttered and tried to explain, "I-I-I'm just saying - "

"Sounds like you're making pretty snap judgements about the man I love - based on what? His fucking appearance? Do you fucking hear yourself? Like, you're reprimanding me for dating when you're not even my parent. You need to take several steps back into your lane."

"I'm not reprimanding you for dating! Just for... For..."

"For dating Eddie?"

"For being so dangerously desperate!" She snapped. "Jesus, a kid like that? You don't have to cling too hard, he's lucky to just breathe your air! So, maybe loosen the reins, babe, it's not a good look to keep a man so... Beneath you so close and so tight."

Eddie launched from his chair in time to hear you laugh in response. "Yeah? Yeah? This comin' from the woman whose husband cheats on her more than he remembers their anniversary or her birthday? Is that what you mean by desperate?" You narrowed your eyes, "You're right - that is a real bad look. I mean, I've had years to watch you and decide, that's not what love is. That's not respect. Wow. Being desperate for love really is embarrassing, isn't it? Thanks for the advice, Auntie, but don't worry - first place for worst relationship is still steadfast yours. I mean, Eddie and I are actually compatible, you know? He and I actually like one another, mutually love another. Now, I know you're not used to that, so I guess I can excuse you mistaking 'love' for 'desperation' and being 'clingy' - "

"Baby, hey, hey, hey," Eddie caught you around the waist and pulled you back a few steps. "All good, it's all good - don't gotta argue, c'mon. Walk away, just walk away, c'mon, come with me." You scoffed in amusement while Rebecca looked close to tears, Eddie directing you in the opposite direction to force space. "What the hell was all that?" He asked in worry, arm slung around your neck as he checked over your shoulders to make sure you weren't being followed.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Didn't seem like it. C'mon, baby, what happened? Talk to me."

"When my family drinks, you know, they can just get a little mouthy."

"What'd she say?"

Insecurity exploded in your chest, freezing your tongue and heart, pumping icy shards through your body. You didn't want to worry nor upset Eddie by being honest, so you sighed, "Oh, just some dumb shit. She honestly sounded jealous... And bitter..."

"Ah, Uncle Paulie isn't giving it to her, huh?" He teased and you laughed, if only to not tip him off to the brewing storm of emotions threatening to take over.

"Guess not. Hey, uh," you glanced around, "you wanna get outta here?"

"What?" Eddie chuckled, "Baby, no, nah, c'mon, night's just starting. Fire's finally lit, and look," he pointed, "Dustin's challenging Mike to corn hole. And... Is that...?"

"Max and Lucas playing... Pong?"

"Looks like," Eddie smirked. "Think we're bad influences, baby."

"They're not even drinking - how much of an influence can we really be? Do they even pay attention, learn from us?" You teased, arms crossing across your chest in a light hold as Eddie tugged you a fraction closer to place a kiss on your temple. "Well, can we go back to the van and smoke? I left your hoodie in there and it's getting kinda chilly."

"Oh, you left it, huh?"

"Since I was the last in it? Yep."

Eddie chuckled and kept you under his arm all the way to his van, opening the backdoors and letting you climb in first. He shut the doors after himself and instantly rocked onto his back; you mimicking his position.

You both just stared at the ceiling for a moment; breathing together; existing as one. Then his head turned, yours did the same, meeting each other's eyes and without a single word exchanged, let your lips spread in matching smiles. Like two charged magnets, you both leaned in at the same time to let your lips meet in a sloppy meshing; playful, heated, and quick-tempo'd.

When Eddie pulled back, he whispered, "I love you."

After returning the sentiment, you both sat up to rest against the metal van walls and Eddie reached over to snag the wee box he used to store (some) of his drugs in. You breathed a sigh of relief while watching him, engaged in a new and distracting conversation - grateful he seemingly forgot about Aunt Rebecca's bullshit already.

Yet those words seemed to haunt you.

It's been about two weeks since the Reunion and you felt as if you were slowly losing whatever was left of your mind. School had officially started and with all your AP classes, you were already juggling several assignments.

Everywhere you went, everything you did - you second guessed the amount of energy, effort, and diligence you put forth into everything! School! Friends! Family! And you know who suffered the most? Eddie - of course he did! He was closest to you, of course he was on the frontlines; enduring some kind of silent attack.

You didn't know what to do - so, you did nothing! You avoided Eddie because you were afraid of being ridiculed like a bug under a microscope in biology class. It seemed reasonable; not wanting to dig a deeper grave, not wanting to give further room for judgmental assholes to feel comfortable enough to voice their opinions. It drove you insane, living in silence, in this empty space; going from joined at the hip to severed Siamese Twins.

"Hey," your mother perked up when you came through the front door, "what're you doing home?"

"Uh, I live here?"

She sat up from her lounging position, "No, I meant, it's Thursday - isn't Thursday date night with Eddie? You didn't go last week."

"Oh, uh, no, not this week, Ma, I've got this crazy essay I'm swamped with."

"Hm," she nodded slowly.

"What?"

"Hmm? No, no, nothing, it's nothing," she waved you off, and just before you could take a step, she continued, "it's just - last week, you said you had some big test to study for. And now you're blowing him off for an essay? Honey, school just started, you shouldn't be this stressed and upset so soon."

"What can I say, Ma? I'm not blowing him off, I'm focusing on school. You know, the thing you love yelling at me to do?"

"I'm happy you're buckled down, sweetie, I'm just not used to you being here so often. You know? Since you started dating Eddie, I feel like you're only really home some weekdays, and sometimes, I don't even see you! Now, you've been home and I'm just worried something might be, I don't know, wrong."

"The only thing wrong, Ma, is the amount of work I have to do."

She sighed and nodded, offering a tight-lipped smile; finally allowing you to make your escape. First, you stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water and bag of trail mix, then, you made your way to your room; throwing your windows open, turning your stereo on a low volume, settling at your desk, and rolling a joint - but setting it aside for now. You unpacked your supplies, cracked your knuckles, and got to work handwriting ten pages on The Lord of the Flies.

There came a knock at your door, eyes cutting to your clock and noting you'd been working about an hour. Waving smoke from the freshly lit joint away your face, you plucked it from your lips, inhaled sharply, and called, "C'min!"

Eddie slipped in your room.

"What're you doing here?" You asked in shock, tilting your head back when he stood over you and accepting his kiss. The ends of his hair tickled your face from where he dangled himself over you.

"It's date night."

"Yeah, but I told you I had work, baby," you pouted at him, watching him set the paper bag he brought in front of you and taking the joint from your stalled hand.

"Mhm," he agreed while taking his pull, holding smoke in his lungs and still speaking, "which is why I brought it to you."

"Oh, yeah?" You chuckled, opening the bag and revealing your usual burger and fries order. "Eddie - "

"Eh?" He grinned, producing a milkshake from behind his back, "Ta-daaaa!"

"Oh, a man after my own heart!" You laughed, "You're literally perfect - thank you. This is really sweet."

He smirked and sat in the plush chair you left beside your desk just for him. "All right," he reached out to pick up the essay prompt as you ate a fry, "let's see here, uh... Lord of the Flies?"

"Yeah, it's about - "

"No, no, I know," he nodded, "I read it."

"You did?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I thought you didn't read anything except your D&D manual and Hard Rock Magazine?"

"Oh, ha-ha, don't forget Playboy," he mocked, you smirking. "All right, well, let's get crackin'."

"What?" You asked, watching him toss aside the paper prompt and pick up the novel.

"I'm helping you," he shrugged like it was common knowledge.

"You? You're gonna help me write this essay?" You laughed, handing him the half-eaten fry - which he accepted into his mouth without hesitation.

"Why is that funny?"

"You don't even do your own homework, baby!"

"Yeah, well, figured I'd help if it'll get done faster, you've been acting real funny."

"How?"

Eddie pinned you with a harsh look, "You've been distant."

You froze, knowing you're caught, but still responded, "Uh, no?"

"Uh, yes? Since the Reunion, I've barely seen you. And even when I do, it's at school. You don't come over, you don't invite me over, you canceled our date last week, tried to today, too. Baby, look, if something's wrong, you gotta tell me 'cause I can't fix shit if I don't know what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong - "

"Try again."

"Eddie."

"Are you serious right now?" He asked, his voice no longer light and lithe, playful nor silly. "You might have yourself convinced, princess, but I know you better than that. Something's up, something's wrong. Talk to me, please."

"Why does something have to be wrong? Why can't I just be, like, tired or stressed? Or both?" You avoided his eyes, taking the joint from him.

"If you really want me to believe that, answer when you started smoking with homework?" This made you pause, shrugging in embarrassment. Eddie scoffed gently, "Lemme guess? You're just stressed?"

"It's not a lie!"

"But you're not telling me the full truth!" He leaned forward in his seat, reaching for your hand, frowning deeply. "Baby, I just want to help you. Since the Reunion, you've been distant, and I think it's to do with whatever your aunt said."

Tears filled your eyes, mutely taking another long inhale; gently ashing the joint in the tray on your desk hosting several stubbed-out filters. Swallowing the saliva that had pooled in your mouth harshly, you coughed gently upon exhaling the smoke; tears pooling and slowly cascading down your cheeks. Eddie sat closer in worry - literally sitting in a balancing act on the edge of his seat.

"You're right," you squeaked, unable to look at him; fingers beginning to shake. "Y-You're right, and I'm sorry, I just - I didn't know what to do, how to feel - "

"That's why you gotta talk to me, baby, so we can figure shit out together. Right? I help you, you help me," he spoke gently, reaching out to caress the back of your head. He sighed, standing, ushering, "C'mere, c'mon, stand up for me. C'mere."

He lead you to your bed, letting you sit as he toed out of his shoes before joining you. He settled on his back and pulled you in tight to his side; your arms like a vice around his waist, resting on his chest that was dampening from your tears. He rubbed your back and shoulders, up to your head, down to your waist and hip. Eddie spoke softly, encouraging you to talk when ready.

"She scolded me, I guess," you whispered, "because according to her, several other family members think I'm too clingy."

"She said what!?"

"Eddie," you groaned, his voice loud under your ear.

"Sorry, sorry - I just - she said you were too clingy? What? Seriously? Like - Like with me?"

"Yeah. Said it wasn't a good look," you admitted, and then, Eddie just remained silent as you poured your heart out and admitted all that was said. It felt like a never ending cycle; confessing that you loved Eddie so effortlessly, you didn't think you were loving him 'wrong', but your Aunt Rebecca's words made you second guess your own emotions.

And it honestly angered Eddie. No, not (only) about you being upset - but the reason for you being upset. He wished he knew the night it happened, remembering hearing your response to Rebecca, understanding your words now. He wished he knew, he would've had a word or two for your aunt; angry that this woman successfully made you doubt yourself. Doubt the way you love Eddie.

"Hey," Eddie whispered, hand on your jaw to gently encourage your head up so your eyes met his. "Don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Pull away from me. Try to change, doubt yourself, do different. Baby, I love you - and no, you're not fucking clingy. And even if you are, I love it because I love you, and that means loving all of you, exactly the way you are. Fuck your aunt, fuck anyone who had something to say, their jealousy and bitterness and ineptitude are their problem, not ours. And anyone who makes it our issue can get bent." You were honestly shocked into silence, just staring up at Eddie in a daze of wonder. "What?" He asked.

"I'm just processing you using 'ineptitude' correctly," you teased in a whisper.

"Oh, you little - " He laughed, rolling onto you; fingers digging into your flesh and wiggling. Your laughter was loud and genuine, Eddie grinning in amusement before just staring down at you; gently petting hair off your forehead. "Listen to me. Hey? You listenin'?"

"Yes, Eddie," you chuckled.

"Don't ever pull away from me," he told you sternly. "I need you close to me, always. I don't care what anyone ever thinks or says - you're not a bother, not to me, never to me, so, please, for my sake, stay close. I'll fuckin' fall apart without you."

Overwhelmed by emotion, his sweet words, and how they instantly settled your anxiety, you didn't respond verbally. Your hand shot up to hook around the back of his neck and pull him down - but it's not like he resisted. Eddie let his mouth descend onto yours in a heated display of passion, his hips involuntarily rolling forward to roll his hips so his bulge ground into your clothed cunt. His tongue was hot, wet, sliding against yours in a raunchy pace that made your head spin until you were dizzy.

And in exactly 436 days, Aunt Rebecca, Cousin Darlene, and any other outspoken family members sat at home, bitter, while the rest of you (and the town) celebrated yours and Eddie's union of Holy Matrimony.

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