#they're like the kind of people who strangers feel comfortable walking up to and starting a conversation

[hoarding-stories]

Adding to the list of "Groundbreaking Knowledge that only the Bells Hells know":

The Matron's actual face

The identity of the two gods holding the divine gate

Details about the Matron's rite of ascension

The god's opinion on the Luxon

The Matron's feelings on things in general

They really have a "you can chat with us, take a load off" vibe as a party

[aventurineswife]

hear me out!

Reader was in a relationship with aventurine and Dr. Ratio, BUT! It was like Aventurine and Rayio liked eachother more than they liked the reader!

You following along?

Good! Cause I'm not done!

THEN! Reader goes to bar gets a little tipsy (read as drunk) and ends up venting their sadness and frustration to kind strangers willing to listen! (Aka Argenti and Boothill!) Things end up almost getting, suggestive to say the least before reader ends up stopping any more advances and leaves, little does reader know that her encounter with Argenti and Boothill would leave them desperate for more...

(Basicaly Yandere poly Argenti and Boothill x Reader)

And, this is just something else I wanted to say but what if Aventurine and Ratio notice reader kinda drifting away, ad they notice that reader is starting to make more friends and reader starts trying to spend less time with them? Maybe somehow they findout Argenti and Boothill are obsessed with reader? I see Aventurine and Dr. Ratio being possessive of things or people they consider "theirs" and slowly they start becoming as obsessive as Boothill and Argenti and now reader has 2 couples vying for her attention!

( I totally understand if this is to much or confusing!)

“I Wanna Make You Mine”

Summary: You are in a relationship with Aventurine and Ratio, but you began to feel like an afterthought as your partners’ interest in each other overshadows your bond. One night, seeking solace and a brief escape from your lonely frustrations, you meet two enigmatic strangers at a bar—Argenti and Boothill. Both quickly become captivated by you, their admiration bordering on obsession. You find yourself ensnared in a dangerous game of affection and desire, with each group willing to do whatever it takes to win your undivided attention. The question is; Who are you going to be choosing?

Tags: Aventurine x Reader x Ratio, Argenti x Reader x Boothill, Polyamory, Not really a love triangle since you pulled 4 men/Love pentagon, Jealousy & Possessiveness, Yandere Themes, Slow Burn Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Longing, Light Drunkenness, Obsessive Behaviour, Emotional Tension, Emotional Angst, Slight Cheating Behaviour.

Warnings: Possessive and Obsessive Behaviour, Light Alcohol Use, Yandere Themes, Emotional Distress, Do not try this at home or think this is cute and all. This is fictional.

A/N: I'M DEFINITELY HEARING YOU & DON'T WORRY ANON I UNDERSTOOD YOUR REQ!! 🤭 THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR STUFFS LIKE POLYAMORY RELATIONSHIPS (SO DON'T COME AFTER ME IF I DID SOMETHING WRONG!!) AND YANDERE! 😪 I personally don't ship any characters in HSR but for the sake of this fic, they're being shipped.

In the dim glow of a hazy bar, the soft clinking of glasses and murmurs filled the air as you downed your third drink. The evening had started with only a desire to escape the gnawing ache that Aventurine and Ratio had unwittingly left in your heart. For so long, you had been the third in your relationship, watching the connection between them bloom far more intensely than their affection for you. It was hard to pinpoint when exactly you began to feel this way, but tonight, the loneliness finally hit.

You sighed, stirring your drink absentmindedly, lost in thought until a warm voice cut through the fog of your mind.

“Are you alright?” Looking up, you were met with the striking gaze of a man with fiery red hair and green eyes that sparkled with curiosity and concern.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine...” you muttered, masking your sadness with a weak smile. But even before the words left your mouth, you knew they were unconvincing.

“Ah, doesn’t look like it to me.” drawled another voice from beside you. Turning, you found yourself facing a man who looked like he walked straight out of a rugged holo-western. He had a silver gleam in his eye and a smirk that promised trouble, yet there was something comforting in his casual demeanor.

They introduced themselves—Argenti, the knightly-looking redhead, and Boothill, the roguish gunslinger. They struck an odd pair, yet somehow, they both seemed genuinely concerned. That genuine concern, however small, was enough to tug open the lock on the emotions you’d been bottling up.

“I just feel like… no matter how much I try, I’m always a shadow between them,” you confessed, the alcohol loosening your words. “It’s like I’m just… there. I know they love me, but sometimes, it feels like they’re happier with each other.”

Argenti’s gaze softened as he leaned closer, his voice rich and sincere. “A soul like yours deserves to be cherished, never neglected,” he said, his tone filled with a quiet reverence. “I see a light in you, something so rare and beautiful. Anyone who fails to treasure it is unworthy of your heart.”

Boothill leaned in with a sly grin, his eyes flickering with something darker. “If they can’t see what they have, then maybe you’re wastin’ your time on ‘em.”

The warmth of their words and the way they leaned closer, as if drawn to you, sent a flutter through your heart. It had been so long since anyone looked at you like that—with full, unbridled interest.

His hand moved gently to the small of your back, his touch radiating warmth. “Allow us to show you what it means to be honored—to be loved without restraint.”

His words lingered in the air, weighted with a knightly promise. You felt your pulse quicken at his sincerity, yet even through the comfort of his presence, something held you back.

The heat in his touch and Boothill’s gaze made your heart pound faster, and for a dizzying moment, you felt tempted. But, catching yourself, you pulled back, gathering the scraps of your resolve. “I… I can’t. Not like this,” you stammered, stumbling up from the table. “Thanks, but… I need some air.”

You barely noticed their longing stares as you left, desperate to clear your mind, unaware of the yearning spark you had ignited in both men.

Days passed, and you tried to shake off that night. But a strange unease began settling over you. Everywhere you went, you could feel eyes on you. Argenti’s soft, almost reverent gaze in places he couldn’t possibly be; Boothill’s devilish grin, catching you in your peripheral vision even when he wasn’t there. As if they were everywhere, waiting.

The more you found yourself in their orbit, the more their obsession seemed to grow. Argenti, once chivalrous, was now desperate for every glance, every smile you gave. Boothill, once a lighthearted scoundrel, grew possessive, his words laced with dark promises of keeping you safe… from anyone who dared come between you.

Your time with Aventurine and Ratio was no longer as comforting as it once was, either. They sensed the shift in you. Aventurine’s charming smile had faded into something sharp, his eyes assessing as he caught sight of Argenti and Boothill’s names in your messages. Ratio’s typical aloofness twisted into jealousy, his usual intellectual grace tempered by a fiercer intensity.

One evening, as you arrived home, you found Aventurine and Ratio waiting. Ratio was seated calmly, but his piercing gaze was anything but passive. Aventurine leaned casually against the wall, his fingers twitching as if he longed to reach out to you—or hold onto you, tightly.

“We’ve been worried.” Aventurine said with a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Ratio inclined his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Tell me, have you… made some new friends?”

The question caught you off guard, and you stammered out a response. But their knowing expressions only confirmed the suspicion that had been growing in both of them.

That night, they wouldn’t let you go. Aventurine’s once-teasing nature had turned possessive, his charming smile a mask for the tension simmering beneath. Ratio was no different, wrapping his arm around you, his touch firmer than usual, as if reminding you that you belonged to them. They held you close, more than ever before, but their embrace now felt like a cage, one you couldn’t escape.

And just as you thought you had nowhere to turn, there came a knock on the door. The sound was calm, persistent, carrying a strange sense of finality.

You didn’t need to open it to know who it was. The question that burned in your mind wasn’t if it was Argenti and Boothill waiting outside. It was what they would do now that they had come for you. And with Aventurine and Ratio on the other side, waiting to stake their claim, you realized you were caught in a game where escape might be impossible.

The question was: who would be the first to make their move?

Don't ask for part 2 lmaoo💀

[xoxo-sarah]

Visiting Home for the Holidays

↝a/n: for my people who don't celebrate Thanksgiving, you can interpret this as Steve meeting your parents for the first time. 🩷

↝pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

↝warning: Thanksgiving? Not proof read, rushed

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Steve Harrington, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 11.27.24

Steve Harrington masterlist | main masterlist

Steve stood at the edge of the driveway, his heart pounding in his chest. He adjusted his brown sweater for what felt like the hundredth time. You had told him it looked good on him.

He glanced nervously at the front door. The memory of his disastrous first meeting with Nancy's parents played on a loop in his mind. He could still hear the awkward silences, feel the judgmental stares, and remember the feeling of not being good enough. He remembered passing by the house and feeling ashamed when he caught the eye of Mr. Wheeler as he mowed the lawn. Truthfully, Mr. Wheeler hadn't thought of Steve since that night. That didn't change the fact that it haunted Steve. The thought of repeating that experience made his palms sweat and his stomach churn.

"Steve, it's going to be okay," you said, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "They're going to love you."

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I just... I don't want to mess this up." Last time, it was a disaster. He didn't dare say the last sentence. This is different. It's a different time with different people. He's changed. He's not King Steve. You're not her.

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "You're amazing, and they're going to see that."

Steve nodded, taking comfort in your words. "Okay, let's do this." With one last deep breath, he followed you up the walkway, feeling a little more confident with each step.

Peering eyes watched through the window, in-between the curtains. Excited eyes softened and protective eyes glared, slightly wavering as you slightly smiled. You were happy.

As you knocked on the door, he glanced at you, and you gave him a reassuring smile. The door opened, and your parents greeted you both warmly. Steve felt the tension in his shoulders start to ease as he saw the welcoming expressions on their faces.

Dinner was a cozy affair, filled with laughter and stories. Steve found himself relaxing more and more as the evening went on. Your parents were kind and engaging, nothing like the cold reception he had feared. Every now and then, he'd catch your eye, and your encouraging smile would give him the boost he needed to keep going.

"Steve," your dad started, a hint of question as he said the name, not sure if that was right. He gave time for correction, but it never came so he continued, "Y/n tells us you work at a video store. How's that treating you?"

Steve started to feel that familiar anxiety creeping back. Then he felt your hand gently touch his under the table, grounding him.

He took a deep breath and began to talk, feeling more confident with each word. "It's fun; decent pay." He started, before going on about working with friends and his boss.

Your parents listened intently, nodding and smiling, genuinely interested in what he had to say.

By the end of the night, Steve was laughing and chatting comfortably with your parents, the initial nerves long forgotten. He realized that with you by his side, he could face anything.

As you said your goodbyes, your mother stopped you, bringing you into a hug. "He's a keeper," she whispered and grinned, pinching your cheek and your became embarrassed.

Your dad brought you closer to him, after shaking Steve's hand firmly. "Be careful on the roads. Holiday traffic is the worst."

Steve grabbed your hand and began walking back to the car, Steve turned to you, gratitude and affection shining in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I couldn't have done this without you."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I knew you could do it. And now you know it too."

Steve smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the chill of the night air. He knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, with you by his side, he could handle them all.

After Steve opened your door, helping you get in without hitting your head, you turned back to the house as Steve rounded the car. Your parents stood on the edge of the porch, expressions soft. They waved, smiled gracing their face. Their little girl was with someone who seemed nice. He was respectful; he helped clean up and respected you and them. He listened when you talked, eyes scanning your face. A few times, they caught him smiling as he admired you. He even fixed a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.

They were willing to welcome him back anytime, as long as he made you happy.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[painted-bees]

Sometimes you just need to be held and gently rocked like a child by someone who means something to you.

I mentioned before how Raf doesn't really get anxious before a show, and genuinely enjoys performing on stage--but that the most difficult part of a performance for him are the hours right after a show has finished, starting from the moment he walks off the stage.

Almost every single time, no matter how fun or well executed a performance was, there's a kind of quiet terror that follows him off the stage like a dark shadow and infects him once he's left the safety of the stage lights.

He becomes uncharacteristically furtive, and while he will answer when spoken to, his responses are simple, short, with a kind of sharpness in tone that suggests a level of defensiveness. Like a child awaiting a harsh scolding. Because that's kinda...what he is, in that moment. He is waiting to be kept awake into the early hours of the morning by a lecture about what he did, what he didn't do, what he should have done differently, what needs to be improved upon before the next time. Or he's waiting to be told that he's gonna be on his own for a few days, because the people who are supposed to love and take care of him are "too disappointed to fairly manage him" right now. Or he's waiting to be dragged into a busy room populated by strangers he's supposed to impress while he's casually, conversationally picked apart in front of them by the person who brought him there in the first place; the person who wanted to show him off.

It's a frustrating reaction to have...He's not a child, he's a grown ass man--and he owes venue staff, and his bandmates, and everyone else backstage a modicum of respect and kindness, and to thank them for their work, and to revel in the completion of a good show. But he's not really...he can't do that. He comes off as quietly despondent at best, or kind of a stuck up asshole at worst. When he did shows with Lacey, she called it his "post-performance tantrums" and exercised very little patience for his 'immature sulkiness' following concerts. And the low mood would persist for a solid week then after.

Once he started doing shows and stuff with Margie, she'd initially wonder if his poor mood was because she had done something wrong, or didn't meet expectations, if it was a bad show.... It wouldn't be until the following day before Raf could find himself in a state of mind where he's able to explain what he's feeling, much less why. And...for whatever reason, he's reticent to offer the most simple explanation to her--because saying "it's a ptsd thing, just give me space and patience and don't take it personally because it's nothing to do with you" comes with the risk of being asked other questions about himself and his upbringing that he's not comfortable getting into and--it's a whole thing, in his mind. So the first few shows together are consistently...a bewilderingly negative experience for Margie, in that it's a very tense, quiet, insecure and shame-ridden 24-48 hours after the show--followed by delayed revelry days after the performance with Raf finally able to reflect positively upon the experience and assuring Margie that it actually was a great performance, and that he had a lot of fun--and they're able to recall their favorite moments together, etc.

Unlike Lace, though, Margie never digs into him about his behavior. She just mirrors his silence, and then--very uncomfortably--gives him space because she doesn't really know what else she can do, and--assuming she's the problem--she doesn't want to risk messing things up even more, since she doesn't know what she did wrong in the first place. And, you know, there's only so many times Raf can reassure her, too late, that she was great, actually. And so he finally does relent to telling her that this is just...how he is after a show, that it's no one's fault, he's not mad at her or anyone--it's just ptsd. That's all he tells her, and, as per always with Margie--she doesn't try to pry out more information from him about it.

Margie goes down her own little rabbit hole of research instead, and comes to Raf with the idea for a new post-performance routine (communicated with staff and such before hand to ensure accommodation) wherein they don't try to gladhand, or pack up, or do literally anything for the first half hour after they walk off stage. Instead, they find a quiet, dimly lit corner somewhere away from everything and just sit, and rest, no expectations, no obligations, nothing. Raf agrees to put this idea into practice, and it quickly evolves into, well idk... Being held and gently rocked like a child by someone who means something to him.

[misshugs]

It'll be alright || Colby Brock

[inspired] "feels like i'm always apologizing for feeling."

[req by anon] At the end of the day, it seems that the ones you least expect are the ones that are always by your side at your worst.

warnings: shy/introvert!reader, mentions of self-abandonment, angst, self/degrading, cursing, anxiety, hurt/comfort?

a/n: i'll prolly do the banner soon enough, also not proofread at all so if there's something that sounds.. weird, my bad ;; i'll fix it eventually

word count: 4.6k [u n e d i t e d]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You knew it wasn't quite healthy for you disregard your own feelings like this, but you got so used to it.

You hid them so well at times, you feared you weren't even being honest with yourself.

Being a people pleaser wasn't something you wanted to do, but somehow managed to end up being. You never really wanted to make people upset, so you tried your best to help out as much as you could whenever you were able to.

Turning out like this also lead to friends that weren't really there for you, but you were always there for them.

You always were.

Even when they made fun of you, whenever they asked you for so many favours you knew you weren't going to get back, you were always there. You persisted in this so called "friendship" merely because they seemed to actually like hanging out with you.

At least it's what you thought at the time.

And honestly, who could blame you? Although it was most certainly a toxic friendship, they genuinely added you to most conversations. It wasn't as if you were only there to fill up the background most of the time.

Right?

"Hey babes, would you mind buying us some drinks?"

"Buying? Soph, I'm not even drinking tonight, I-"

"Really? You're going to do this to us? After we've invited your ass here? You're really trying to make us look bad?" She spat back, making you nervous.

It's all too familiar.

This has happened too many times for your comfort, and it always seemed to work in their favour; even when you tried to avoid it.

"N-no! I'm just saying that you could-" She put a hand infront of you.

"Shush. God, you're making my ears bleed." She whined before getting closer to your face. "Look, you go over there and ask for five shots of tequila, m'kay? Be a good one for me tonight, it also might improve your own reputation so, you know, stop talking and start moving honey. Tap tap." Her cunning smile and slight push on your shoulder made your heart race in an abnormal speed.

You really didn't want to. You really shouldn't, actually. But they were your friends, weren't they? You're doing this because they're friends.

Yeah, well. Keep telling yourself that lie.

Walking towards the bar and waiting for the drinks, there was this guy waiting right beside you. He looked at you with an amused smirk.

"Five? That's impressive."

"They're not for me." You responded with a half smile.

"Not even one?" He raised a brow, gaining a slight shake of your head as a response. "Sucks. Can I buy you one then?"

You look back at him, now with an amused expression yourself. Taking out his card and giving it to the barista before even letting you pull out your wallet, you looked at his deep, blue eyes.

"Bill's on me this time. Looks like you need a little break." He whispered, a small wink quickly after.

"Well, thank you, kind stranger." You said, taking all of the shots with you and looking back at him.

"Colby." He answered, trying to give you a handshake only to see your hands full and laugh. "Right."

You giggled. "I'm Y/n. Thank you again, Colby." And so, you walked away.

Sam, walking towards Colby after watching his obvious intend of flirting with you, putting his hand on his shoulder and said while looking at you walk away.

"You should've helped her dude."

"Ah, shit."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

"God, I can't believe I still invite you to these, you're so ungrateful." She sobbed, "After all you've done to us I still invite you regardless, and this is how you repay us? Your friends?"

You paused, looking slightly down while the dramaqueen infront of you began fanning her eyes and looking up, trying to not ruin her perfect makeup with her fake tears. You tried to restrain your own feelings, closing your hand into a fist, feeling yourself getting frustrated by the second.

The word friends ached in your heart for the very first time, and you knew it wasn't a good sign. "Sorry." You whispered, basically apologizing for feeling. Again.

In the end, you were still too shy to try and confront yourself to her. You knew you would lose, even though you've already created a million different ways of repelling every single one of her insults.

She was too predictable, too easy to contradict. But she had something you didn't.

Confidence.

Maybe if it weren't for the dozens of people that could be staring straight through you, you might be able to have a chance. Even then, you knew better. You get nervous too easily to try and spat back shit to this princess. Slowly but surely, you were starting to lose hope in this so called friendship you had with her and her other dogs.

Or maybe it was already gone, you just didn't want to admit it to yourself.

You were tired.

The stress, the anxiety that was draining you was too much. It wasn't worth it, and you knew it.

What made you keep going? Was it because you were comfortable? Did you not want to try something new? Were you too accustomed to their presence that it made it hard to walk away? Yeah, most likely.

"I can't with you today. You're such a meanie." Soph argued, turning away. "Do whatever you fucking want. Get lost or whatever, I'm not taking you home." She walked away with her group. Their judgemental glares were enough to carve a hole in your heart.

It wasn't only them, but the people that got a glimpse of the situation began murmuring. The feeling of being watched, judged and laughed at by strangers. An unbearable, overwhelming feeling that stopped you in place. You were feeling yourself loose air, your hands shaky at the mere thought and paranoia you were collapsing yourself with.

On the mere edge of tears, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump in surprise. "Oh, my bad." They laughed. A familiar male voice released you from the thoughts. You looked at his face. Colby. "Didn't mean to scare you. Saw you all alone so I passed by to say hello. You doing okay?" He smiled.

Somehow, that smile is all you needed. Your eyes fluttered while you fixated your vision on his pretty face. You smiled back. "Yeah, yeah. Doing good." You tried to compose yourself once again.

Surprisingly, it was easy because of him. His jokes, flirty comments and pretty smile made you completely forget how you were on the edge of a panic attack barely a few hours ago.

"I'll be honest with ya. Last time? You made me so shy that I was going to ask for your number then completely forgot up until it was already too late." He laughed, so contagious that it made you giggle back. "Would you mind giving me a chance of texting you once in a while? Of course, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, sure, I don't mind." You gave him your number. A part of you hoping it wasn't yet another prank that would make you break into despair, but at the same time, you wanted to believe. You still had hope; not everyone is bad. Right?

After passing numbers, you notice the time in your phone. "Ah, shit. I should be leaving, it's too late." You stood up from your seat, fixing yourself up.

"Oh, well, are you driving?" He asked, standing up after you.

"Oh... um. I guess I'll have to call an uber, since my... friend will probably be staying." You mumbled slightly, remembering that bitter memory from not so long ago.

"Mind if I drive you home then?" A soft smile on his face; a sincere one. You looked at him, dazed for a moment. "...Is... Is that a yes?"

"Oh, uh... are you sure? I wouldn't want to bother you." You respond quickly.

"Bother me? Not at all. You've been my light of the party tonight." He laughs at his own statement. "Come on, let's get you home, sweetheart." He followed, putting his hand at your upper back, walking you towards the exit.

You didn't argue about it. In fact, you preferred to leave as quickly as possible, and he was giving you that chance. It was nice, it felt nice to have what you wanted for a change, even if it was as simple as leaving a party sooner than later.

After an annoyingly quick ride back home, you thanked him prefusely before walking back into your appartment.

Tonight took a toll on you emotionally; feeling dread and such a big pleasure at the same time. After a much needed shower and a midnight snack, you heard your phone.

A text? Who would even text you this late at night? You started questioning if it was Soph or one of the other girls, only to soothe the rising stress when you saw the text from a new contact.

Hey, it's Colby. Hoping you didn't give me a wrong number

It made you chuckle while responding right away.

I'm not the type to do that, don't worry

Oh, I'm glad, would've been heartbroken if you did

Did you go back to the party?

Nah, went straight home. The friend that was with me said he was going to stay longer but I went home

Why did you not go?

The life of the party left

Who?

You?

You rolled your eyes at the comment. This cheeky bastard.

You loved it.

Talking for a few more minutes, your eyelids began to close on their own. Your sleep schedule catching up to you.

It didn't take long until you fell asleep.

After some weeks, your supposed friends stopped texting you. One or two parties where you were left uninvited. It didn't bother you much, but at the same time, you were thinking of what you were missing; overthinking around the way it would've turned out great.

But also how wrong it could've been.

It was almost 11 pm, you've been watching the stories of your friends having fun without you. Nothing new, until a text from Colby made it change.

Haven't seen you at the party

Your heart ached. Someone expecting you was something... new. You were blaming yourself, even though it wasn't really your fault.

Kinda sick. Couldn't go.

Aw, that sucks. Hope you get well soon

It felt wrong to do this, but at the same time, nothing new to you. Trying to cover up the true feelings behind the kind smile you always put up.

Thank you.

A couple of minutes passed before another answer came through.

Party's getting boring, wish you were here

Trying to hype me up, Colby?

Is it working?

A little.

You smiled at his small attempts. He's been texting you enough to know there's been a distance between your group of friends. Some personal information between the both of you getting mixed up through conversations, getting to know eachother in a more personal level.

Him, having such an odd job being a 'ghosthunter' and (somehow worst, or maybe better?) he had proof of it. You, on the other hand, another slave to capitalism. Even worse, a slave to a more toxic relationship than your ex boyfriend. Your friends.

Usually, you wouldn't be the type to open up like this; but one thing turned into another and now here we are. A stranger that knows you better than every single person that's passed by your life, merely because he's asked the right questions at the right time. A master with words.

Sooo can we be honest then? Are you actually sick?

I'm impressed at how well you've come to know me.

Figured. You coming to the party then?

I wasn't invited.

How come? I'm inviting you right now

What?

I can take a plus one with me

I want you to be my plus one

…are you serious? I'm not even like, ready or anything.

Are you even sure? I'm not fun.

Take your time sweetheart. Tell me when I'm able to pass by

Also what do you mean you're not fun? Take that back right now

Your cheeks felt warm. You've come to learn to read emotions though text as the time passed by; knowing when you were really not wanted or knowing when somebody else was interested in things outside your circle.

This, however. These texts from this... guy. They felt genuine.

…

Thank you

It's really no biggie, I want you to come with me (if you want, of course)

So put on something sexy

For the party, of course

You chuckled at the comment. You weren't able to fully comprehend if he was being serious or just as flirtatious as always. But you didn't mind. Right now, you were about to go into a party. Why? God knows.

Maybe you do too, but you wouldn't like to admit it.

Not now, at least.

Standing up and walking toward your wardrobe, you skimmed through it. What should you wear? Something normal as always? Is it even worth it to try and switch it up for a change? You never really tried to make yourself look appealing, there was no reason to anyways.

But this time? Fuck it. It was different. You weren't going with them, you were going with him. You sighed, pushing yourself to wear the most decent looking dress you could find in your closet; fitted with some high heels the same color of the dress.

Finishing off your makeup, you saw your phone light up.

I'm here, take your time

Panicked, you replied.

Thought you were going to wait for me to finish??

I am?

Not in front of my house???

We can leave right away when you're done

Stop arguing, I don't mind waiting here

Come inside at least

Don't mind if I do then

Sighing, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You weren't going to take longer than 5 minutes, but you felt bad leaving him outside. Walking towards your front door, you gulped down the nerves and opened up the door.

He was as fine as always, looking down at his phone before raising his head and looking at your face. His mouth opened slightly, unable to move for a moment.

You were stunning in his eyes. Looking at you up and down, he had to catch his own breath. How was he this lucky to be able to be next to this beauty?

"Is it... too weird? I'm not the type to commonly use these type of clothes..." You almost whispered, doubting your looks.

"You're kidding." He was able to respond. "I've never seen someone look this beautiful." You smiled and rolled your eyes. "I'm serious. Are you seriously not aware."

"Not aware of what?" You asked, a slight frown on your face due to the confusion.

"Of how gorgeous you look?" The frown quickly turned into a surprised look, your cheeks turning red at the revelation.

Hugging slightly your door to try and find comfort, you looked away from his graze. "Get in, I'm still not done." You said and be obliged. Closing the door behind him, you told him to get comfortable while you finished yourself up.

It didn't take you long, fortunately. A few fixes around the eyes and you were basically done. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you were satisfied with yourself this time. You didn't feel forced, heck, you felt beautiful. Perhaps it was Colby's comments that affected your mental state, but whatever it was, it felt good.

Walking back towards the man in your living room, you heard him whistle at you, which made you laugh.

"I'm gonna have so many death stares walking with you tonight."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Nervousness filled you up when you walked inside the party. Holding onto Colby's arm, he could feel your hand shaking. He gave you a reassuring look, one that said "Everything's going to be fine."

And you tried to believe it as much as you could.

Whatever you seemingly expected from the night somehow turned into the greatest parties you've ever experienced.

Perhaps it was because you were with Colby's friends instead of yours.

Maybe it was the fact that you were actually connected into their conversation instead of being pushed out. Being listened to instead of ignored and getting talked over.

Was this what it felt to be having fun? You almost forgot this was what it's supposed to be like. It felt nice.

"I'll be right back. Gotta to to the bathroom." You said standing up from your seat.

"I'll go and get some drinks in the meantime. Anyone wants a refill?" Colby asked, nodding at the requests he was receiving. You smiled at him before walking away.

You were quick in finding the bathroom, finishing what you had to do soon enough and getting out of the room.

Before you started walking towards the group, you got pushed away and in the center of a bunch of girls, smirking at you. Judging you. Your heart sank as fast as you recognized just one of them.

"Who do we have here?" Soph teased, a sly smirk on her face. "Isn't it too late for you? Thought you would've been at home. It's past your bedtime, isn't it?" Laughs were heard from the group surrounding you.

No, no, no. This wasn't a good time for this. You were having fun, you were doing so good! You've never felt better at a party and now all of it was destroyed.

"It's none of your business, Soph." You could hear a gasp after your response. A dramatic, opened mouthed expression on her face.

"Oh, so, now that you've found a new stupid little group of freaks now you think you can talk back at me?" She spat out.

You looked slightly to the side. "You just called yourself a freak." You thought, unable to actually argue back. You felt a hand on your chin, making you look at her directly to her eyes.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." She demanded. You gulped, trying to compose yourself as hard as you could just to not shiver under her. You had to be strong, to proof to her you were better.

But it was hard.

"Think your stupid little face will be fixed with a bit of makeup? Ha." She scoffed, looking at your whole outfit this time. "Someone as ugly as you won't be fixed by a little change of outfit. Not even if that friend of yours tells you otherwise. Or maybe not a friend? Who knows? It's not like he's interested in you anyways." She grinned, roughly moving your face towards a specific corner of the group.

And there you saw it, it was Colby. With another girl. Your heart sank, for some reason. Your breath escaped your lips as it got shaky, eyes quickly watering when you saw her get a bit too close to his face while he, with some drinks on his hands, was unable to do anything.

Why were you feeling like this anyways? It's not like you guys were something, were you? Why did it hurt this much? Your expression softened at the illusion you had made so quickly. So dumb, of course he wasn't interested.

"What's wrong? Did you silly little confidence already shatter? That was so easy." She almost sounded dissapointed. A push on your back was enough for you to fall onto the ground. It's not like you weren't about to anyways, your legs were already shaking at the mere thought that everything that has been going on was a mere lie.

A setup.

You heard laugher, whilst barely holding yourself up by the palms of your hands. "How pathetic. You shouldn't have even come. Now you're just being a bother to another group, another dead weight."

And they were right, you believed they were right. You believed them so easily that it was almost funny.

You could hardly breathe, the tears dwelling onto your eyes as a thick blurriness covered your vision. You couldn't hold it anymore, the stress... it all came to the surface quick enough. The music dissipating into the distance as you heard yourself breathing heavily; the only sound you could focus on.

The sound of you losing your mind. Your heart pounding hard. Too hard, perhaps. It ached. You could feel the frown on your face while the tears kept on flowing.

Come on, you were better than this. Why are you acting this way? You can easily act neutral like always, smiling, ignoring all of these feelings.

But breathing was hard, the murmurs of other people being only that; whispers you could barely understand. You felt like you had no control of yourself, like you were trapped in this center of humiliation of people you once called friends.

But they never intended to be your friends from the start; they were only using you.

This wasn't the first time either. Over and over again you were considered the center of humiliation of these people, the only difference is that this time was the last straw that broke off the mask you tried to so desperately to keep on.

A pair of hands began shaking you, trying to make you stand up from the floor. You couldn't pay attention to who it was, as you were busy enough dealing with the sudden lost of oxygen.

Maybe even a lost of self.

Barely able to walk due to your legs feeling numb from the unbearable feeling in your chest, whoever it was helped you out and moved your arm around their neck. You're not exactly sure what happened, but before you could even get yourself together, you noticed you were outside.

Still breathing heavily, finally, you looked at the figure that helped you out.

Colby.

It only made your panic attack worse. You started crying harder when you saw his face. The pain of being a fool was covered in your face.

"Hey, come on, breathe." He tried to give you your space. Far enough to let you calm down, close enough to hold you up. But he ended up hugging you closer when he noticed how broken you seemed.

You didn't hesitate and held him tighter. "I'm sorry, I.. I... I sh-shouldn't..." You sniffed, trying to find the right words to say. You felt the urge to try and explain yourself to him. Your vision was blurry and finding yourself choking with your own words.

"Let it all out, don't worry. I'm here for you, okay?" He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his hands caressing your back as he spoke. "Breathe. Calm down your breathing first, sweetheart. It'll be alright."

Shaking in his arms, you found yourself comforted by his scent. Breathing in his cologne felt almost hypnotizing. His way of calming you down absolutely worked. For the most part. Sniffing, you tried to explain yourself, trying to argue to yourself that these feelings shouldn't have appeared, it was all a mere accident.

But your cries were more than enough to make him understand at least half of the situation. He was sure it was your friends, but for some reason you were pleading for forgiveness to him. "Hey... you don't owe me an explination, yeah?" He wiped a few lost tears through the run down mascara and cupped your head in his hands, smiling back at you. "Want me to take you home?"

You were barely able to respond with a little nod. It was all he needed.

It was a decently quiet ride. Colby took it upon himself to try and make you feel alright, holding onto your shaky hand and softly caressing it.

When he parked infront of your home, as he was about to walk out of the car, you stopped him. Looking back at you, he understood and sat back down. You didn't want to go inside, or maybe you didn't want to stand up overall, which he didn't mind if it meant for you to feel alright.

With your shivering lips and puffy eyes, you sniffed whilst wiping some dry tears from your cheeks. The stress has calmed down and you're able to breathe normally once again.

He was patient with you. He didn't try and make you speak up or got tired, he waited. Waited until you said something or wanted to move.

"Sorry." You finally spoke. He kept his eyes on your eyes, waiting for you to elaborate. "I was... a mess, it shouldn't have happened." You wiped some tears before looking at him. He seemed... confused.

"What do you mean it shouldn't have happened?" He asked.

"You're just... trying to have fun while I'm here just... ruining your night. I told you I wasn't fun. You could've found someone else to go with, I-"

"Who said I wanted someone else?" He interrupted.

It made you quiet down for a few seconds before talking back. "Well, I mean..." You sniffed. "You were... with... there was someone else, I just thought... you just... wanted someone... to... um... I don't know... hang around with, not something to carry." It was hard for you to explain yourself.

What were you even trying to explain? Were you just upset because you 'ruined his night' or because of something else? You were confused. "Who? The annoying girl? She randomly came to me, I couldn't even move her away because I had the drinks on my hands."

Annoying was a word that stood out to you. It seemed your overthinking got the best of you. Perhaps whatever you believed wasn't true? Looking at his face dumbfounded, he smirked. "What? Were you jealous?"

That was another word that stood out. Your cheeks fluttered and you murmured to yourself whilst looking away. "As if..." You could hear his contagious laugh after your words, making you smile slightly.

There was a comfortable silence before he spoke again.

"I saw it. Last time. Your 'friends'... The way she didn't even hesitate on making herself the victim when she saw fit. I had to control myself that night, that plastic face of hers was about to change shape if I didn't." He laughed to himself.

You were quiet, so he continued. "Honestly, it made me so mad that even though I was going to try and talk to you anyways, I had to make sure you didn't go back to them. I didn't want you to. You don't deserve friends like that, no one does." His brows furrowed at the thought.

"...It's not like I wanted to, either. I guess I just... got used to it." You whispered, looking at his hands covering yours. He held them tighter and got slightly closer to kiss your forehead, giving you a soft smile afterwards.

"I don't know if you'll ever try to trust again after all of that, but... would you give me a chance to be your friend? For now, who knows if I might level up later on." It made you smile. It always made you smile.

And you wanted to trust. To trust him, even though it might break your heart in the long run. Right now, you just wanted to feel safe, and he was the safest bet. "I guess I can give you a chance. And... let's see if you're able to upgrade sooner than later." He could only smile brighter, kissing your knuckles before changing his tone of voice to a more energetic one.

"So, wanna get drunk in your house? I have a Jack Daniel's in the trunk."

"Wha..."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

this was lying on my drafts for too long unnecesarily- hope you liked it!

also i put specifically that one song but there are so many that can be part of this trope, it's just too much for me to add lol

~nikkõ

[dragon-kazansky]

When the raven calls

Morpheus x Female Reader

You, his raven, die protecting Jessamy while rescuing the Dream Lord. When Morpheus returns to his realm, he mourns your loss, only to find a stranger waiting for him in his throne room. The stranger claims to be you, now in human form. He doesn't understand, but his raven will always watch over him.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Four - A day in Hell

☆☆☆

Hell isn't exactly what you expected it to be, but it wasn't the most comforting of places either. You find yourselves in a desolate place, moody and foggy.

"So this is Hell."

"It had many names. Avernus, Tartarus, Hades, the infernal region you call Hell."

"So, it really does exist." You say, looking around. You didn't like it one bit.

"It does, for some."

"It's colder than I imagined." You ruffle your feathers. "Which way do we go?"

"I suggest we follow the damned." He says.

You look at the road below where people are walking. They're carrying their own fires. You had no idea exactly how awful Hell would be.

The sooner you returned to the Dreaming, the better.

You fly behind Morpheus as he leads the way to the gates of Hell. The air tastes stale on your tongue. You land by his feet as he stops by the gates.

"A king may not enter another monarch's realm uninvited." Morpheus says, looking at the gates. You look up at him. "There are rules, protocols which must be followed." He explains to you.

Morpheus moves closer to the gate, and you follow, hopping along with your little legs. A sense of unease settles in your body.

He approaches the gong and hits it once. The sound echoes out, and the dead around the gate groan.

"There's one at the door. At the gate of damnation." A heavy voice speaks from the other side.

You stay close to Morpheus's feet as the towering demon comes over to the gate. Morpheus can sense your unease, but doesn't say anything.

"Is it thief, thug, or whore? There's one at the door. And there's room for one more. Till the end of creation."

"Greetings, Squatterbloat." Morpheus speaks. "I seek an audience with your sovereign."

"And who might you be?" The demon asks.

"I am the King of Dreams. Ruler of the Nightmare Realms."

"Mm. Yes, my clown. So, where's your crown?"

Morpheus scoffs softly. "Guard your tongue demon. The ruler of Hell will not be kind to one who insults an honoured guest. And I am a guest in this realm as I am monarch of my own."

"So, where's your ruby?"

"Shall I use it to haunt your dreams? And your waking hours, too?" Morpheus asks. "Or will you open the gates of Hell and let us through?"

The demon opens the gates.

"Now, take us to the palace."

Squatterbloat starts leading the way. You look up at Morpheus. "I really don't like being here."

"Stay close," he says softly. Morpheus follows the demon. You hurry to catch up, staying close to your king's feet.

You walk for a while. An ashen forest shrouded in fog. It unsettles you. "Where are we?" You ask.

"The landscape is subject to the whims of the Morningstar."

"Morningstar...? As in...?"

"Yes." Morpheus glances down at you.

It had been a long time since Dream met with Lucifer. You remember him leaving to visit this kingdom before. That was so long ago. You hadn't come with him last time.

"Are you afraid?" Morpheus asks.

"I'm not exactly comforted."

Morpheus stops walking and looks down at you. You gaze back up at him, wondering why he stopped. Slowly, Morpheus scoops you up in his pale hands and tucks you into his coat. You're at a loss for words as he continues walking. He's never done anything like this before.

"Better?" He asks.

"I... I guess so."

He doesn't speak again for a little while. Not until Squatterbloat is leading you up a strange twisted tower. Morpheus keeps you tucked up in his coat the entire time. You feel safe being so close to your beloved king.

"Does this seem like the way to you?" You ask, looking up at him.

"A demon has a hundred motives for anything he does. All of them malevolent. Demon," he adresses Sqautterbloat, "this is not the way."

The demon chuckles.

Morpheus moves to follow him, butnis stopped by a voice. "Kai'ckul."

You both turn to the prison cell beside you. You stare in awe at the woman inside. You know of her. A human Dream loved so long ago. Here she was in Hell.

"Dream Lord? It is you." She looks so happy to see him.

"I greet you, Nada." He speaks to her, appearing as he did to her all those years ago.

"How I have prayed for this day. I knew you would come." She tears up.

You glimpse at the demon. He did this on purpose. You snuggle yourself into the warmth of Morpheus even further. You hated when other played cruel games with your master.

"It pains me to see you like this."

"Then, free me, Lord." Nada says. "Only your forgiveness can free me. Do you not still love me?" She cries.

"It had been 10,000 years, Nada. Yes. I still love you. But I have not forgiven you." Dream tells her.

Morpheus continues walking. He gently lifts a hand to where you are nestled in his coat.

"Kai'ckul, I will not give up hope." Nada calls out. "I will never give up."

You offer the only comfort you can. You nuzzle his chin softly. He doesn't say anything, but you see his finger twitch before he lowers his hand to his side again.

Squatterbloat leads you up a hill and then stops. He turns and walks away, leaving you and Morpheus alone.

Just beyond is the castle of Lucifer Morningstar.

You nudge your way out of his coat and land on the ground softly. You look at the castle. Morpheus begins to lead the way. You fly close to him, making sure to stay where he can see you, and where you can see him.

The road to the castle is long and narrow.

The castle is huge. It would he so easy to get lost here. Dream's castle was big, too, but it was certainly more comforting than this. You knew its halls like the back of your wings.

The gates open. Blood pools out from the opening. You fly on as Morpheus walks, entering the palace.

Morpheus leads you through the dark cavernous halls. You land again and follow him on foot, staying close to his feet once again.

You approach an open room. A fire is lit on the centre, and Lucifer themself stands overlooking their kingdom. You feel nerves setting in.

Morpheus comes to a stop and claps his hands together. You remain by his side.

Lucifer turns around.

"Hello." Lucifer walks closer, never once looking away from Dream. Once in front of Morpheus, Lucifer stops. "Hello, Dream."

"Greetings to you, Lucifer Morningstar."

"You look well, Dream. Are you well?" Lucifer asks. "And your family, Destiny, Death, Despair, and the others?"

Morpheus scoffs in amusement. "I presume the Ruler of Hell knows this is no social call."

"Have you come to join forces then? To ally your realm to ours? To acknowledge the sovereignty of Hell?"

"You know my feelings on that, Lightbringer."

You look up at Morpheus.

"Feelings change. Especially when one has been caught and imprisoned by mortals." Lucifer says.

You hate it thinking about that. The image of him in the glass prison tore your heart into pieces. The way he looked at you before you died...

"We expected better of you, sweet Morpheus."

"I have come because my Helm of State was stolen from me." He states. "I believe one of your demons has it. I should like other back. Now."

"Dream, if only it were that easy. But there are rules, you see." Protocols which must be followed."

You feel uneasy and you think Morpheus cam sense it.

"Which demon has your helm?" Lucifer asks. "Name it, and we will bring it here."

"I confess I do not know the name." Morpheus tells Lucifer.

Lucifer stands on the balcony overlooking their kingdom. "Then we will have to summon all of them."

You follow Morpheus to join Lucifer on the balcony. With a wave of the hand, all the demons in Hell are summoned to the castle yard. You hate being here.

"There, now, Dream, you may inquire. Which Demon has your helmet? Shall we interview them one at a time, or..."

"That won't be necessary," he tells Lucifer. Morpheus steps away from the balcony, and you follow him. It looks like he's walking away.

"It surprises us how easily you would give up, Dream. We know how you relied on your tools. But tools are the subtlest of traps."

Morpheus stops.

"We become reliant upon them, and in their absence, we are vulnerable, weak defenseless."

"Not entirely." Morpheus reaches into his pocket and pulls out his pouch of sand. "I have recovered my sand. It brought me to Hell, and now it brings that which is mine in Hell to me."

You watch him curiously. He kneels down and begins to pour the sand onto the polished ground. It swirls around until a figure appears. A demon holding his helmet.

Morpheus stands and faces the demon. You hide behind his boot cautiously.

"Tell me your name, demon."

"Do I have to tell him?" The demon asks.

"That is Choronzon. A Duke of Hell." Lucifer speaks for him.

"Choronzon... The Helm is mine. You must return it to me."

"No. It's mine now. I traded it from a mortal for a paltry thing. It was a fair trade. I've broken no laws. And if the Dream King wants his helm back, he will have to fight me for it... or trade it." Choronzon looks down at you.

Lucifer smiles. "Ah, the raven."

"No." Morpheus says. "The raven is mine. She is not up for trade."

You look up at him. A warmth fills your heart at his words. He still cares about you. That makes you happy.

"Then a fight it is." Choronzon states, looking at the Dream Lord.

"Very well. I challenge you, Choronzon."

The demon chuckles. "You know the rules, Dream Lord."

"If I win, you will return my helmet."

"And if you lose," Choronzon looks at you again, "I get both the helmet and your raven."

Morpheus' eyes narrow. "That's not part of the deal."

"It is now," Lucifer confirms.

You look up at Morpheus desperately. Lucifer waves their hand, and just like that, you're in human form again. You curl up to hide your nakedness from them all.

Morpheus sees how startled and afraid you look. You look so much more vulnerable now. He removes his coat without hesitation and wraps it around you.

As he kneels and pulls the coat around you, his eyes meet yours. You feel like your breath catches in your throat. There is a look in his eyes you can't describe.

"The raven can transform into a human? Curious." Lucifer smiles.

"She is not part of this deal." Morpheus stands again.

"It's all or nothing, Dream Lord," Choronzon remarks.

Morpheus stares at the demon with a steel gaze. He can not afford to lose. Not this game.

"I accept the terms."

You feel like your heart cracks in your chest. Morpheus has just added you to the deal. You never wanted to believe he could trade you away like that before.

"And whom will you choose to represent you in battle?" Lucifer asks him.

"I shall represent myself."

"Choronzon, whom will you choose to represent you?"

"Hmm... I choose you, sire."

Morpheus realises what he is up against and knows he can not afford to lose. He does not dare meet your eyes as Lucifer comes up behind him, dressed in attire fitting for this battle.

"Apologies, Dream, but the laws of Hell demand that I become his champion. Ut if you would not fight me."

"I have accepted the terms."

Morpheus changes his clothes for battle, too, while ensuring you remained wrapped up in his coat.

He looked good. Very good.

You couldn't doubt him. You had to have faith that he could win a battle against Lucifer Morningstar.

"Let the challenge begin."

You feel your heart racing in your chest, and you pull the coat around you even more. You hope with all you have that Morpheus can beat Lucifer.

You know he would not give you away so easily. You just know it.

☆☆☆

@missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @sitkafay - @snowsatsu - @ladyofdreaming - @thoughtsfromlayla -

[lis-likes-fics]

Princess II

Pairings: Eddie Munson x rich!Reader Word Count: 18k words Warnings: Slow burn, swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, strangers to best friends to lovers... A/N: This was so much fun to write. It took like....over a year to finish this two-parted but it's done and I love them so much. They're literally idiots. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you! (And a special thanks to my beta reader, you're amazing!)

The months pass smoothly, and soon you've been incorporated into aspects of Eddie's life that you've dreamt of for years.

It started with you ditching the cheerleading squad at lunch to go sit with Eddie and his friends. They were so sweet to you, if not a little flirty. Dustin was always eager to see you at lunch, showing off his intelligence or quick-wit any chance he got. He was all smiles, treating you like his cool aunt who got him just about anything he asked for because you liked to spoil him.

Mike was also excited, but he was also a little more open to accepting gifts and things from you. But he was the middle child in his family, so you kind of expected it.

Gareth, Fred, and Jeff all had similar reactions. Though Fred was more skeptical of having a girl like you in the group, you were easy to warm up to. Gareth and Fred constantly flirted with you, but you suspect they did it more for Eddie's annoyance than yours. You warmed up to them.

But Eddie.

The first day you went to sit with them, he'd made one of his buddies get up and move so you could sit next to him. It was a complete change in fondness, like his comfortability to you had skyrocketed to the other end of his kindness.

He included you in every chat, asked questions that weren't awkward but let him and the group get to know you. You really felt comfortable there, like one of them. You expected to feel a little off, but you didn't. They were so kind.

Everyone sneered for a while. The first couple of days were full of glares and snickers from those of other tables. But the longer you sat there, the less people cared. Whatever. You could do what you want, you're the princess. Eddie's comments on how people pick on him and his friends dwindled, though it never fully disappeared.

The squad wasn't so happy, not that you cared. They talked about it to your face and behind your back. It always got back to you of course, Chrissy kept you updated.

You actually managed to pull Chrissy a couple of times to sit with you and Eddie. She enjoyed it just as much as you.

Soon you started joining them during their campaigns. You just sat out and watched at first, serving as their cheerleader, until Eddie pulled you in by your waist, sat you down next to him like you always do now, and let you join in as any character of your choosing. You were an orc named Bill.

The longer you were friends with Eddie, the closer you got, and you loved every second. You went from sitting at his lunch table to playing campaigns with him to regularly going to his house (to the point where you could walk in and Wayne would wave and point down the hall where Eddie sat in his room) to spending just about every day glued to his side, his inseparable friend.

Eddie had always wanted a friend like that, though he'd never admit it, adamant on maintaining his reputation as a freakish outsider who didn't need anyone, who adopted all the other losers into his band of rejects.

He'd always wanted someone who loved spending that much time with him. He's way more happy than he'd like to admit that you haven't gotten tired of him yet.

Spring break comes and goes. You spend the whole of it with Eddie, except for the one day your parents decided to take you to one of the charity events in town. You spent the whole of it with Chrissy in a pretty dress that Eddie said he liked—considering she was in the same class as you and your parents were close friends.

You learned a lot of things over the time you spent as Eddie's friend.

You learned that every time he's asked what his favorite color is, he says black or red just to be edgy when, really, it's baby blue.

You learned that he loves pizza, he could finish an entire pie by himself in under ten minutes. Then he'd smile at you with his face covered in pizza sauce and you'd feel like you were going to puke, you're so in love.

He claims to be ambidextrous, but you've seen his left-handed penmanship and there's nothing ambidextrous about it. He likes loud, thundering music, but you've seen him turn into a softy from the slow, quiet kinds you never thought he'd be into. He lifts sometimes, revealing to you how lean he actually was when you walked in on him shirtless in his room once with weights in his hands.

You'd left the room to recuperate. He'd teased you about it for weeks.

He's terrible at math but he's a decent writer, he's a nice singer—and you melt every time you hear him sing, no matter the genre—he can draw, he can read three different books in one week, he cannot cook, but he can boil the hell out of some water. Wayne was very happy when you showed up in Eddie's life and started cooking for them.

You watched him learn the entirety of Metallica's new song, Master of Puppets, in under a month.

Choosing to become Eddie's friend was a terrible decision in only one way: every single day, he gives you more and more reason to fall deeper in love with him. Your heart is so full, you think you'll die.

You don't know if Eddie knowing that you like him is better or worse. On one hand, he knows he definitely has the option if he really wants it. On the other, he doesn't know just how much you have fallen and him being him tears you apart from the inside out.

But if this is the closest you'll get to him, you'll gladly burn inside just to get the chance to hold his hand.

~

After pulling up in front of your house, Eddie opens your door like a gentleman so you can make him study for a test he had that you knew he wouldn't do otherwise. He slung your bag over one shoulder, grabbing his own to do on the other side.

"Wait!" you tell him as he's slamming the door. You rush inside, smiling wide as you disappear into the house. Eddie follows you, taking his sweet time about it. You're already running down the stairs as he reaches the door after finally walking the length of your huge driveway.

You come out with your hands behind your back, smiling too big for your face as you look at him. He raises a brow, dropping both your backpacks inside by the door and leaning to the side. His knee pops out, making him look as sassy as he probably feels.

"Another gift?" he asks, almost exasperated as he recognizes that sticky sweet smile on your face. He loves it but the amount of gifts you shower him with is insane sometimes.

"Are you trying to buy my love or something?" he teases. "Is this a bribe, Princess?" He lifts his brow ridiculously high and lowers his voice ridiculously low, as if talking in secret.

You roll your eyes at his theatrics. "Don't be ridiculous," you shake your head. "It's a gift."

He shrugs a shoulder. "Same difference."

You scoff. "Shut up and close your eyes." He makes a teasing snort but does as he's told. You bite the very tip of your lip. "Hold out your hands." He does it.

You pull the long, yellow envelope from behind your back, tied with a thin white ribbon to make the most exaggerated bow he'd ever see. You watch his brows change at the feeling of the paper in his hands, curiosity leaking out.

"Now open."

He does. Looking down at the envelope, he raises a brow and stares at it, as though it would open on command. He fingers the glued down flap of the letter and glances at you with hesitant eyes. "What is this?"

He pulls the glue free and begins to pull out two, just as long, slips of laminated paper. Looking up at you, he can see how bubbly you were with the excitement to show him your latest gifts. Or "bribes", as he liked to call them—all out of good fun!... you think.

The words pour from your lips. "Two backstage tickets to Metallica next week!" You bring it back once the biggest part of the reveal was said. "They're on tour, and I know you like them."

He stares at you with wide eyes, but he doesn't smile. You wait for his grateful reply for a while before what you are met with is a loud, "What?"

Your excitement turns to shivering fear as you stare, worried. "Is it the wrong band?" Suddenly, all the worst scenarios you worried about come to mind. "Shit, did I mess up?" You start mumbling to yourself. "I know I checked and then double checked. Maybe the tickets are wrong. Fuck, what did I do—?"

He stops you with his heavy hands on your shoulders, weighing you down but also providing a lot of comforting warmth as he looks you in the eye with the same level of intensity. "You got me V.I.P. tickets to see Metallica perform?"

"In Indianapolis, yes."

He stares at you a moment longer before he's shoving you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you and keeping you flush against his body. The hug is warm and enveloping and much too close for friendship, and you hug him back just as closely, almost feeling as though you could cry of how wonderful it felt to have his scent all around you, his arms around your waist, his crazy hair tickling your face and shoulders.

After a beat too long, he's hoisting you off your feet and spinning you in a circle that has your body flying for a moment. He sets you down as you're both giggling, and when he pulls back to see you, his lips are set in the biggest smile you have ever seen. The breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare wide-eyed at him, and whatever was left slips out when his thumbs smooth circles along your sides as his hands stay set on your waist.

"You are fucking amazing," he says too fondly.

You gaze warmly at him, feeling your heart skipping too many beats. You need to go to the hospital.

Then his whole demeanor changes once more as his face drops into near frustration. "And extravagant," he adds suddenly. "Why the fuck did you get these for me?"

You honestly expected his hands to leave you by now, but they stayed at your sides with the envelope held between his fingers. You set your hands on his arms, shrugging as you smile earnestly.

"For us," you say, hoping not to scare him away with that. "Because I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it."

Eddie doesn't know what he's done to deserve something as special as this, but he just smiles down at it with the joy of a little boy getting a dog he's been wanting all his life for his birthday. You hear him curse under his breath.

"I gotta go tell Wayne," he beams. He scoops you into his arms again, squeezing tighter this time as he laughs happily, his elation infecting you. He sets you down, looking over your face. He's moving and speaking faster than you think he thinks he is, but it just makes you smile some more.

"Ah, I fuckin' love you. I'll see you later!" He tears away from you, turning around and sprinting toward his van to drive haphazardly down the road to get back to his uncle. He's waving at you through the window as he pulls away.

Meanwhile, you stand at the door with wide eyes and stilled breath, frozen on the porch. His words replay in your head like a mantra, like a prayer that you've been waiting for as you smile a little.

"He loves me," you sigh. Then you shake your head, hoping not to be as delusional as you feel. "Just a figure of speech..." you chew your lip, "probably..." you furrow your brows, "most likely."

You sigh as you shake and bow your head. "I'm talking to myself again."

You turn on your heel and set a course down the sidewalk, walking a few houses down with fast feet and an even quicker beating heart. Four doors down, you come up the path to Chrissy's house and start repeatedly pounding on the door, because it was more dramatic than letting yourself in.

You hear her as she approaches the door because she yells, "Y/N, I'm coming!"

The door opens and Chrissy stands on the other side with a raised brow and a sigh. She sees you standing there with your conflicted look as she furrows her brow. "What happened?"

You walk past her, venturing into the house and walking right up the stairs as she follows behind you, unphased as she closes the door. "I gave the tickets to Eddie."

"And?" she asks as she follows you up the stairs.

"He loved them," you say over your shoulder, shrugging. "He was, like, super excited."

She smiles wide, her whole face lights up. "That's great!"

You get to the top of the stairs on your way to her room, stopping at one of the doors prior and knocking gently before pushing it open. "Hi, Carter."

The boy looks at you and smiles wide, waving his hand as he returns his greeting. You smile back and close the door, instantly falling back into your contemplation as you burst into Chrissy's room and plopped down at the edge of her bed.

"So," she prompts. "Is it a date?"

You furrow your brow, granting her a confused look. "What? No, don't be ridiculous."

She rolls her eyes, "Right..."

"But he..." you trail off, chewing on your lower lip as you keep thinking to yourself, replaying the moment over and over and over again with the over-analysis of a skilled theorist.

"What?" she asks, urging you to finally spit it out.

"He, like," you look at her and release your lip in favor of speaking as you try and fail not to smile at the memory—as though it was a cherished thing that had been living in your brain for years. She follows the loose narration your hands give as you speak. "He picked me up and spun me around and said something about telling his uncle, and then..."

You hesitate to say it, hiding your face a little behind your hands. Chrissy sighs heavily, playfully impatient with your slowly developing, weird relationship with Eddie. "What? What did he do?"

You blush and smile too wide. Your face hurts. "He said 'I fuckin' love you', and then drove off." You're suddenly really giddy. "He said he fuckin' loves me!" You beam at Chrissy before quickly backtracking. "I know it was probably just a figure of speech or something, right? Like, he doesn't actually love me, he was just super happy. Heat of the moment. Right?"

This left your mouth as a word vomit and, honestly, Chrissy just watched you with a wide range of emotions crossing her face. Confusion, joy, passive frustration, hints of awaiting sarcasm...

She shrugs a shoulder, sitting next to you on the bed and attempting to soothe your scorching nerves. "I mean, probably, but you spend so much time together... who knows," she smiled wide suddenly, "maybe he's coming around."

Your grin is hopeful, your eyes glisten as you smile at her and she smiles wider and chuckles at the look. "You think so?"

"Sure!" she exclaims, eager to get you to the optimistic side of things.

"Maybe you're right," you nod to assure yourself, hoping that saying it out loud will bring it into existence. "Maybe you're right." You breathe in and out and sit up straight, nodding once more before you turn your gaze to Chrissy again. You take her hands in yours and squeeze gently. "The concert's next week, I need you to help me get ready."

"Absolutely," she beams. "You couldn't pay me not to help."

You wrap your arms around her neck and pull her into a bone-crushing hug. Chrissy, a native to your affection, takes it with an excited laugh and no acknowledgement to your strength.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Of course," she smiles, before pulling out of your arms and waving a playfully scolding finger at your face. "But you owe me."

You shrug. "I always do." You think for a moment. "We'll get lunch and go to the mall. Check out that store you like. An outfit of your choice, my treat."

"Deal," she said immediately. Rolling her eyes and smiling, she sighs dreamily. "I love leeching off rich people."

You roll your own eyes, not as dreamily. "You're also rich, Chris."

She shrugs, letting her shoulders sag lazily at her sides like a ragdoll. "I know, but you're my bitch."

You gasp dramatically. "Christina Elizabeth Cunningham! You watch your language."

She snorts. "Bitch, please."

You shove her back onto the bed and start for her kitchen. You're hungry and you're sure she hasn't eaten yet...

~

You close your locker with a snap. As you look up, you notice Tommy H on the other side, staring you down with an unimpressed look upon his face. You can see the rest of his group surrounding his locker to peer into the conversation, looking like a flock of pigeons—all bulgy eyes and flicking heads.

You sigh internally and turn to him, smiling as sweetly as you always do. "Hey, Tommy." You check your watch quickly.

"Hi," he says back, feeling slick.

You move your bag from your side to place your science books in, glancing at him as you do it. "Is there something I can help you with? I gotta get to class."

He leans his shoulder against the wall, crossing one leg over the other and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his lettermen. He shrugs his shoulders heavily, and your eyes fall on his Class of '85 patch—where it should now read '86 after an unfortunate grade point average in his last, slacked off year.

"You're hanging out with Munson now?" He raises a brow.

You sling your bag back over your shoulder. "Yeah?" You raised your brow, failing to see his point. "Is that supposed to be a problem or something?"

"I mean..." he trails off, laughing lightly like it's obvious. You just stare at him, almost looking clueless as he stumbles over his words to try and come up with an argument. He shrugs, "It's Munson."

You make a face. He scoffs.

"I mean, you seriously blew off a game for him?"

Oh. That makes more sense.

You've been hanging out with Eddie for months, and they haven't commented that much because you could do whatever you wanted because you... well, you're you.

But you did kiss the game last night. It wasn't a really serious one—at least, you don't think it was—and Eddie had a huge campaign he practically begged you to go to, and you accepted because you loved his campaigns way more than a stupid game (that, and the fact that you're head over heels in love with him). You told Chrissy, she covered for you.

You shrug. "We lost the game."

He scrambled for a comeback. "Yeah? Well, maybe we wouldn't have if you had been there. It's called moral support sweetheart."

You straighten your back and try not to make a face, continuing to remain friendly as you close your eyes. "First of all, don't call me that." He shrugs. "Second, there will be more games and more hangouts and whatever else. I'm hanging out with Eddie Munson, so what? He's my friend."

He scowls. "He's Eddie Munson."

You make a face, confusion raising your brow and lip. You pause, waiting for a follow-up. "You say that like it's supposed to prove a point."

Tommy scoffs. "Okay, how about this?" He towers over you, his elbow propped high up on your locker in an attempt to intimidate you. His red-freckled face is stern. "He's a freak."

He nearly spits the word in your face, and he smirks when he does it.

You tilt your head and smile.

"How about this..." You clear your throat and brush imaginary lint from his lettermen. "If you call Eddie a freak one more time," you look up at his face again, smiling a little sweeter and speaking a little slower, "I will personally see to it that my parents stop inviting yours to our parties."

His face pales.

"You'll be moved to our blacklist. From there, people will stop respecting you. And, by then, you'll be scrambling to get back in with us, and you'll look desperate doing it." Your eyes darken but your smile is perfectly intact as you watch his fear overcome him.

"I'll work you so far to the bottom that even the name Munson will hold less disdain in this town than Hagan." Your smile drops. You look cold.

"Do I make myself clear?"

He swallows thickly, finding his voice again after cracking on his first attempt. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "Yes."

"Great!" You clap once as you smile brightly once more. The warning bell cracks loudly, echoing through the halls with a shrill screech. Both you and the bell startle him as he flinches, sighing heavily as you pat your shoulder twice. "Thank you. Don't be late for class."

He hesitates, shaking his head and walking away to rejoin his posse pretending to not have been listening in to the conversation. "Yeah," he mumbles as you watch him leave.

"That was scary."

You turn and smile wide when you see Eddie, leaning on the lockers with an impressed look. "I can be very scary," you joke.

"Tell me about it." He rolls his eyes, and you lightly smack his shoulder at the insinuation. You both start walking down the hall to your shared science class. "What was that about?"

You glance over your shoulder to where Tommy and his friends are walking away, throwing half-hearted scowls at Eddie over their shoulders.

"Oh," you say, smiling to yourself almost maliciously. You shock Eddie for a moment with the brief look. "Just a little... nudge in the right direction."

His whole demeanor changes as he turns his body to face you, walking still as his feet side step to keep up with you. "Did you just threaten Tommy H for me?"

"'Course," you smile. "We're friends, Eddie, and I protect my friends... even if that means destroying social lives forever."

He sighs a laugh. "Startin' to think you like destroying social lives."

You both walk into class together just as the bell rings, moving to your seats as you lean in and whisper dramatically. "Only when they're assholes."

He gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls. "Has her majesty just spoiled her tongue with the dirty language of the peasants?" he exclaims quietly in his best posh, British accent.

"I'm afraid she has," you play along in an accent of your own, though it's not as perfect as his. He's got an impeccable accent. "It can be quite hard to keep one's tongue guarded when met with the incompetence of the lower class, or even that of the upper."

He snorted, "Then, forgive me, my liege. I shall do my best to keep you away from the clutches of the incompetent."

You both laugh quietly amongst yourselves.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he snorts again, shaking his head with a seeking shudder.

You wink at him. "Never get on my bad side."

You direct your attention to the teacher. Eddie watches the side of your face and laughs again, shaking his head and readjusting after spending too much time taking in the sight of the side of your face.

You're pretty. He hopes he never gets on your bad side.

~

With Chrissy out with Jason, you have no one to calm your nerves as the time for Eddie to come pick you up grows closer. You've already dressed in the clothes you both picked out, she'd done your makeup before she had to leave, and you're walking around your room in your heels as you await his arrival.

You check yourself in the mirror one last time before the sound of your doorbell echoes through the house. You grab your stuff faster than you've ever done anything in your life, rushing down the stairs dangerously fast in your heels and throwing the front door open before your father's hand can even brush the handle.

Upon seeing you answer, he decides to walk away. Whatever you want...

You open the door and smile wide at Eddie, ignoring how nervous you feel at the sight of yourself. You feel sort of...out of place. This isn't your vibe but you are hoping he likes it anyway.

Eddie's eyes bulge and his mouth drops open.

He takes you in. Dressed head to toe in leather, he eyes your little red skirt and your black bustier top decorated with red roses. It looks so tight, he wonders how you're still able to breathe. You've got a garter belt wrapped tightly around your thigh, just peeking out from under your skirt, in more black leather. In knee high platforms, you've gone up a couple more inches in height. Even your makeup, with sharp wings, a tiny eyeliner heart on the apple of your cheek, and red lipstick a dark shade of blood.

Eddie feels like he just fell fifty feet and smacked his face on concrete, knocking all the air from his lungs and making it impossible to breathe. You are drop dead gorgeous.

"Wow."

You don't take it as well as he expected, nerves sinking in as you look over yourself quickly, wiping your hands down the skirt. "Too much?"

He shakes his head. "You look..." he trails off, lost in thought before shaking his head to bring himself back, "great. Really great."

You take it for what it is and smile. "Thanks," you blush. "Chrissy helped. You don't look half bad yourself."

And you mean it. He's in nearly as much leather as you. With black leather pants that cling to his body like chains, lacing running up the sides that seem to make them even tighter, he looks like a rockstar in his old Metallica muscle tee (the one where the logo is so faded, you can hardly see it).

You're not surprised to see his leather jacket and his battle vest, nor are you to see him wearing his own eyeliner, an extra edge you've seen during his concerts at the Hideout—though yours is admittedly done better. His hair is frizzier than ever, a look you tried to copy as well as you could but believe you fell short on (Eddie thinks your aces).

Eddie shakes his head. "Wow," he mumbles again, more breathless this time.

"You said that already."

"My bad," he says, not meaning it.

You shake your head and smile sweetly. "No, it's nice."

After staring again for too long, he clears his throat and smiles again, returning to his stupid antics that make you laugh constantly, like you've gone insane.

"You ready to go?" he asks.

"Yeah." You turn and yell into the house, cupping your hands around your mouth as you do it. "Bye, Daddy! Bye, Mom!"

Your mother's voice calls back, "Be back by sundown."

"What your mother said," says your father.

You close the door and walk with Eddie. "Uhm," he says. "We will not be back by sundown."

"It doesn't matter," your shrug. "They say it more as a courtesy. They'll forget I'm even gone."

"Ah," he mutters, though you don't seem too fazed by it. Almost like this is the norm for you. Maybe it is...

He takes you to his van, opening your door like a gentleman and loading you in. He hops into his own seat, slamming his door extra hard because it's been pretty stubborn lately.

As soon as he starts the engine, his music blares through the speakers, "Holy Diver" by Dio. You flinch, shocked by the sound but not upset. He immediately goes to turn it down, and once he's dialed it one way, you dial it the other.

Eddie looks over at you, your head already banging to the music as you rock enthusiastically in your seat. He stares at you, his parted lips curling in a grin. He thinks you're amazing.

"Are we going?" you ask half-jokingly when you catch him staring, speaking so loud you nearly blow your vocal chords trying speak over the music. You poke his side.

He over-exaggerates, recoiling in on himself and flailing back against his window like he'd been shot. You roll your eyes. And he lays there for a while, really dragging it out until you lightly smack his shoulder. The music blares.

"Eddie!"

"Ow– Hey!" he exclaims, even though you barely touched him.

You shake your head. "Drive."

"Okay, bossy," he says. He turns the music down just a bit and starts down the road. It's still loud, and your parents might get a complaint, but it's unlikely because the neighbors would be too afraid of offending them.

He nods lightly to the music, turning it down another smudge to ask, "You hungry?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes. He's going to give you a hernia.

"Not much," you shrug. "You?"

He also shrugs, tapping the fingers of his left hand on the wheel. He leans on his right arm rest, glancing over at you. "I'm always down for food," he winks. "But we could probably wait 'til we get there."

"If you wanna eat, we can."

He shakes his head. "Nag, we'll have a shit ton of free time. We'll be, like," he checks the time, "three hours early."

You snort. He's usually three hours late.

"Okay," you nod. You turn to him, smiling. "Oh, we could check out this new place my parent's friend's daughter told me about."

He laughs lightly, "Is she not your friend?"

You shrug a shoulder. As far as your friendships go, you recognize you don't really have many. Chrissy is the love of your life, as you tell her constantly, but she's the only person you've held close to your heart for years.

But your parents are rich. Their friends' kids are supposed to be your friends, but you've never acclimated to that thinking.

"Eh," you mumble. "We don't really consider ourselves friends, we just know each other." Her parents are also rich, and she's within the same category as you.

He hums. "Yeah, we can check it out." He sets his hand closer to yours, his pinky brushing yours. To avoid seeming too intimate, not wanting to complicate the friendship you've created, he wraps his pinky with yours and shakes it around.

Not intimate, just friendly.

"Is it fancy?"

You shake your head. "Not really." I squeeze his finger, grabbing his hand in both yours and forming his to lace your fingers together. "My parents and their rich friends spoil me with expensive stuff all the time, so I like the cheaper stuff a little more."

You purse your lips, looking away from your hands to look at his face. "But I don't like telling people that because I feel like I sound bratty."

He shakes his head. "Nah, you're not bratty." He lets go of your hand and lightly nudges the side of your face with his palm. You snort, swatting his hand away. "You're just bossy."

"Shut up," you laugh.

His face lights up at the proof of him being right. "See?" he laughs. "You're bossy. You're so bossy!"

You roll your eyes at him, "If you weren't driving, I'd hit you."

His eyes widen. "You're violent," he accuses. "You're violent now!"

You groan loudly, turning away from him with the most exaggeration you can manage. He laughs loudly. It's a ridiculous guffaw, and you feel the van swerve a little. You're so used to his driving by now, though, that it doesn't faze you.

When his laughter dies down and you're urge to burst into your own fit of giggles eases with it, he sighs dramatically to announce the end of his joke. "So," he hums, "if I gave you the choice to go someplace fancy with the best steak in town or a McDonald's," he leans toward you, tearing his eyes from the road at a stoplight to look at you, "what are you picking?"

You let a slow smile spread across your lips as you look at his stupid face with his stupid eyes and his stupid nose, and his stupid lips. You chuckle lightly, taking him in some more. "Well, you can't beat those nuggets."

He laughs again, still just as loud and dramatic as the first one. You love it, and you can't help but to laugh with him this time.

"No, you can't." He smiles at you, staring at your face a little longer than he probably should.

Eddie jumps when a loud honk interrupts his examination. Turning to the light, he sees that it is a very bright green. "Shit," he curses under his breath as he steps on the gas.

The van jolts, but your gaze lingered on him too long to notice. A slip of anxiety creeps up on you as a thought flashes behind your eyes. You hook your finger through one of the holes in your fishnets. You lean on your armrest. "Was that your way of asking me out, or am I dreaming?" You say it with enough amusement coloring your voice that it gives you the option to back out of it as a joke as soon as it is required.

And it was required.

"Fast asleep, Princess," he smiles, chuckling lightly as his eyes stay on the road in front of him. You ignore the stutter in your heart, covering your disappointment with a chuckle of your own and roll your eyes.

"Playing hard to get, huh?" you joke, trying not to be too sad about his lack of falling in love with you. You've still got him, even if you don't have him in your arms.

Eddie's fingers reach for the dashboard as he turns up the radio, turning the heavy rock up louder and louder. "What?" he shouts over the music, drowning your giggles in the song (though he can still hear them because he's listening very specifically for them). "I can't hear you over the music. What did you say?"

You smack his shoulder, giddy with his jokes. "Asshole!" you exclaim, crossing your arms in a faux pout. You both laugh out loud, big and dramatic and happy to be there. And as he turns down the radio before he blows your precious eardrums, he finds himself oddly tender with the sound of your joy. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he has to breathe a little more to steady his traitor of a heart.

~

You're nearly late, despite arriving there a whole hour early. Eddie had found a McDonald's and got so caught up in taking you that you both lost the time. You were in the middle of wiping Sweet N Sour sauce off his face when you realized it on the hands of your watch.

You almost got pulled over twice.

But you get there just as the lights are dimming. It's a huge opener—guitars and drums and screaming vocals, fans cheering and crying, headbanging and jumping and a couple of already too-drunk patrons puking in the back.

Eddie is ecstatic. He loves every part of it—the screaming, the crying, the puking. He takes it all in stride and stands really close to you as he does it.

He keeps looking at your face. Through the haze of flashing lights and so much excitement his heart might stop, he keeps looking at your face. You're really pretty, dressed in his style, smiling like a maniac, dancing to his music.

He was so scared you would hate it, this scene, his scene. He was scared you were going to show up and stand uncomfortably, smile in that people-pleasing way and bear through it until it was over.

But you don't.

You're beautiful. You glow under the lights, you're wonderful as you dance and sway and headbang to hell.

You keep smiling at him. You keep grabbing his hands and jumping to the beat of the music, and he jumps with you and he holds your hands. He can't help but adore you.

Part of him hopes it doesn't stick. He's not sure he could handle his heart beating this fast.

By the time the concert is over, you're both sweaty and hyped and tired but so happy. You both flash your VIP passes—you more confidently than him—and rush backstage with all the other VIPs.

He's buzzing with excitement as his sweaty hand shakes that of each member of the band. He does it wide-eyed, gleaming and entirely unbelieving. If his other hand was gripping yours, he'd think this was a dream.

A really freaky, amazing dream.

You both get shirts, personal autographs, and a lifelong experience that you load into his van with buzzing and heavy limbs. He helps you in, closing your door like a gentleman, and you slump against your seat.

Eddie gets in, slamming his door shut because it's a little stubborn. He starts the engine and turns the radio down all the way to a gentle background hum.

He doesn't turn his eyes toward you until he's pulled out of the insanity that is leaving the parking lot. When he glances over at you, you're asleep.

He'd wanted to thank you.

You're really pretty like this: eyes delicately closed, lips slightly parted. Granted, you're always pretty.

He has to look away before his chest starts hurting again.

Fuck.

He looks away from you quickly, gripping the wheel to get a handle on himself. He didn't mean to do this, to like you. Being friends was one thing, becoming best friends was another...

But actually starting to like you...

He isn't supposed to. You don't live in his world. He doesn't live in yours. More than that...

Actually, he's not sure. He just knows that... he wasn't supposed to begin liking you. His feelings for you were supposed to remain platonic.

But now he's not so sure.

There are a couple things he's sure of though.

You're beautiful, dressed like a metalhead or a cheerleader, you're beautiful. And he adores you, inside and out. And he wants you to know that.

~

"Hey, Princess."

You turn, giving Eddie a wide smile as he walks up to your locker. He's got his hand behind his back in an obvious, and you laugh at that as you adjust your bag on your shoulder. "Hi, Eddie."

He leans on your locker, nervous and proud at the same time as he smiles. His hair is freshly washed—still damp and curly with conditioner. It'll be fully frizzed by the end of the day, you know it.

"I got you something. Well, I made you something," he says. "Close your eyes." You do as you're told, smiling as you do. "Give me your hand."

You're almost giddy as you lift it, presenting it to him. He sets something in your palm. It's light, your brows furrow.

"Okay, open."

You do, looking at your palm. Your smile falls a little as you look at it. A bracelet made with black leather, braided together with a few little silver beads woven in. You look at the silver charm. A skull with a crown on it.

He made this himself.

"Eddie..." You swallow thickly, blinking quickly so you aren't crying your mascara off. People don't do things like this for you—no one but Chrissy.

"Do you hate it?" There's an anxiety there that kick-starts your heart. He braces himself for a 'yes' before you have to remind him that you're you, and you're deeply in love with him.

"I love it," you urge him, using your best smile to convince him of that fact. "It's beautiful."

Hope sparks in his eyes. He smiles a bit. "Really?"

"Yeah!" you promise. "I'll wear it forever."

You shove it in his hand, and he immediately understands your request without you even having to ask. You hold out your wrist as he fastens the bracelet on. It's a perfect fit.

You coo as you look at it. "I really love this, Eddie..." Then suddenly, "Oh! This reminds me. I got this for you–"

"No, no," he stops you, holding out a hand as you reach into your locker. "This was a gift. I'm gifting this to you."

You slump slightly, your smile falling into a confused frown as you sigh. "But..." you fiddle with the charm, "I wanna pay you back."

He shakes his head, not unkindly. "No need. I technically owe you a lot, I'm sure those tickets were expensive as hell."

You're feeling a little...nervous. No one refuses gifts from you, ever—except Chrissy, when they're really excessive. But this isn't. It's just an Iron Maiden vinyl record, one of those limited addition ones you have to really look for.

Your parents had bought it a while back at an auction because a lot of people were bidding on it. But it just sits in a case in the living room collecting dust—they don't listen to that kind of music. They only got it because a lot of people wanted it.

Eddie would like it. He'd appreciate it...

"But–"

"No buts," he says, his tone final. "Let me do this for you."

You pull your hand away from your locker, sighing. You nod slowly, offering a weak smile. "Okay..."

This isn't the last time that happens. Through the next few weeks, Eddie keeps declining your gifts. You try to give him the record, but before you can even get the words "I got you something" past your lips, he's telling you that you don't need to get him anything and giving you his own gift instead.

You feel like you've done something wrong.

He's giving you a lot of gifts. It's becoming harder and harder to accept them, but you couldn't stand refusing one of the presents he's made specially or used hard-earned money on for you. You couldn't do that to him, it would break his heart. But...

It's a lot of gifts. And he isn't even letting you repay the favor to make it even.

There's a problem. You just don't know what. So you do the only thing you can do.

You ask Chrissy.

You walk up the steps to Chrissy's house, pushing the door open and heading straight up the stairs.

"Hello, Y/N," Chrissy's father calls, not lifting his eyes from his newspaper.

"Hi, Mr. Cunningham." You go down the hall, barging through Chrissy's door and closing it tightly behind you. She steps out of her closet, her brows furrowed as she looks at you. Though she's unsurprised.

She does this to you almost as often as you do to her, though you have admittedly more drama than her. You're more radioactive than she is.

"We have a crisis." You plop down on her bed.

She leans on the frame of her closet door, crossing her arms over her chest. "What crisis?"

You lay down, covering your face with your hands and, in doing so, muffling your words. "I think Eddie's mad at me."

She understands you perfectly. "Why?" she asks as she walks over and sets her hands on your thighs, leaning over you. You look at her. "What happened?"

"He's not taking any of my gifts anymore!" You sit up on your hands, but she doesn't move. "I'm trying to give him stuff 'cause he keeps getting me stuff. I mean, whenever I'm mad at my parents, and they try to bribe me to get over it, I just don't accept their gifts."

She shrugs. "Okay," she thinks. She moves off of you, walking back to her closet. "But why would he give you things if he was mad at you?" She disappears inside. "Besides, what have you done?"

You stand, following her in. She's sifting through her wardrobe, looking for her outfit for tomorrow. She does it every day, usually with your help.

"I don't know!" you sigh, looking through her choice of skirts. "That's why I'm worried. I don't know what I've done, and guys are weird."

She holds up two skirts to show you: one short and flowy pale blue and one bright pink two sizes too small. You hum, picking the blue. The pink doesn't suit her skin anyway.

"Or maybe," you continue, "maybe he thinks I'm mad at him, and that's why he keeps giving me stuff."

She shakes her head. "I think you're reading too much into this, babe."

Your head shake is far more intense than hers. "I am reading perfectly into this. I show my love by buying people things, I gift give! I'm basically Santa as a teenage girl. Here." You pass her a white shirt, long sleeved and pretty.

She takes it. "Thanks." Then she hums. "Interesting analogy."

You shrug, sitting on the little stool in her closet with a sigh. "I mean, how would Santa feel if kids just...stopped taking his gifts and started giving him a whole bunch of them?"

Probably special, Chrissy thinks.

"He'd be frantic!"

Chrissy can't help but giggle lightly at that. She loves you, but you're a little ridiculous sometimes. She shakes her head and turns to you and picks up two pairs of shoes. She holds them up as she kneels in front of you, showing them off. "Have you tried talking to him?"

You choose the white sneakers over the black flats. "I don't want to say something bad and mess this up." You rest your chin in your hand. "We were doing so well."

She sighs, setting both pairs down. "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."

You sigh. "You're right." And then you stand. "It's worse."

She stands and places her hands on your shoulders, making you sit again. "Okay, maybe you're exaggerating this a little bit."

Your shoulders slump. "Am I?"

"Yes." She laughs lightly to take the weight off it. She breathes in slowly. "Take a breath. Calm down."

She takes your head and takes you back into her bedroom, making you sit on the bed. She sits across from her, her legs crossed as she sways some hair behind her ear. She takes your hands.

"Eddie is not rich, he doesn't have a lot of money like your family," she begins to explain. "People who are not rich don't always enjoy accepting gifts because it makes them feel like they're inconveniencing you."

Your brows pull together, and you frown. "He's not an inconvenience."

"I know," she smiles. It looks beautiful on her. "He's already gotten so much stuff from you, plus those tickets? I'm not surprised he's trying to pay you back. He's not going to let you give him anything else until he feels like he has."

You assume the worst, looking down at your joined hands and sighing. "So that we're even, and he can stop feeling obligated to be friends with me."

"No," she urges. "So he can stop thinking that you might think he's using you for your money." She shrugs, "He probably just feels bad."

You think about her reasoning. Her explanation actually makes way more sense than your own.

"Yeah," she says. "Just talk to him. I'm sure it's just that."

You sigh, covering your face. "This is so weird."

She takes your wrists, pulling them away. Her voice takes on an annoyed tone. You can practically hear her eye rolls. "Because most of the people who are 'friends' with you are only friends because you buy them nice things."

You nod. "Yeah."

"Except for me, of course," she smiles, almost proudly.

You chuckle. "Except for you."

She sighs, letting go of you and shoving you to stand. "Go talk to Eddie."

You take a breath. "Okay..." You give her your best smile. "Thanks, Chris. You're the best." You kiss her cheek on the way out as you turn toward the door.

"I know," she says matter-of-factly. "Love you."

You open her door, peering your head in. You kiss at her. "Love you back."

She begins to stand. "Also," she looks back at you, tilting her head, "tell your bitch mom to stop shrinking your clothes so she can loosen them. She's an ugly old hag–"

"Y/N!"

"–and you're beautiful and perfect, and I love you. I'm serious, I'll beat her ass."

"Leave!" She closes the door in your face, but you know she's laughing on the other side, grateful for your comments.

~

Eddie is sitting on the porch with his acoustic when you drive up. The engine halts when you pull out your key, standing and closing the door behind you. He likes your car. It's sleek and beautiful. Very expensive because your parents bought it for you when you first got your license.

He keeps strumming his guitar as you make your way up the stairs. "Hey, Princess," he greets you.

"Hey," you mutter, the nerves grabbing at your throat as you come to stand next to him. You fidget with your fingers, sitting next to him on the bench.

"Eds, can we talk?"

He hums, still strumming. "About what?" When you don't respond, he looks up at you. He stops, moving his guitar off his lap with furrowed brows.

"Woah," he says, noticing your worried face. "What's wrong?"

You take a moment to think, sighing as you try to figure out what you were going to say. You rehearsed it in the car, thoroughly, and it's all blanking staring at his wide eyes, brown as coffee.

"Are you mad at me?"

He looks confused. "Why would you think that?" He grabs your hand, and you don't know if you're imagining his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"Because you aren't letting me gift you things."

He doesn't do what you expect—though you're not entirely sure what you were expecting. Eddie smiles, a wide thing that splits his face in two. His eyes almost look like they're shining as he looks at you. You don't feel patronized when he does it, either. It's oddly warming.

"You think I'm mad at you because I'm not letting you gift me things?" he clarifies, almost shocked, though he knows he shouldn't be.

So he's not mad at you? That makes you feel a little better...

"Well," you sigh. "When my parents and I argue, they buy me things to make me feel better. I always say no."

He softens, smiling gently and taking your hand between his. "Sweetheart," he says slowly, "I'm not mad at you. I just don't want you to think I only like you for your money, especially after that concert. That's a huge gesture for someone you only started hanging out with two months ago."

You sigh, looking away from his eyes to think. Chrissy was right, he feels guilty for accepting your gifts. This whole thing is new to you. You're so used up from serving everybody else. Now someone is trying to serve you, and you completely mistook it for anger...

"I'm not used to that," you admit.

"To what?"

You shrug, "People not accepting gifts from me... other than Chrissy." You smile a little, but it falls quickly. Sighing, you look back up at him, squeezing his hands just a slight. "Most of my friends are friends because I bought them their prom tickets last year or invited them to a party or something."

Eddie smiles again. He seems to scoot closer to you, both your thighs squishing together and leaving no space between your bodies. He nudges your shoulder and then pushes you away a bit because he's too affectionate. "I don't like you because you have money and buy me nice things." He chuckles lightly. "Actually, the reason I didn't like you in the first place was because you have money and buy people nice things."

You smile a little and Eddie feels like the special-est person on Earth. He knows it's silly and too affectionate but he can't help it. Eddie's crooked finger hooks underneath your chin and lifts it to look right at him. "I like you for you."

It's moments like these when your love for Eddie can't be measured. It's moments like these when your love for Eddie feels more mature than a schoolgirl crush. It's that moment when you're imagining more than parties or prom or dates or celebrations, when your mind is full of thoughts of sitting quietly in the living room or watching a movie at three o'clock in the afternoon because it's a stay-at-home-day or fixing dinner as he wraps his arms around your waist and sets his chin on your shoulder or reading a book while he scratches his head and files taxes at the kitchen table.

You smile fondly, and Eddie thinks you're the strongest whiskey because he gets dizzy at the sight of you.

"Really?" you mumble, your voice soft and sweet.

"Yeah," he nods. "You're awesome, sweetheart."

You love when Eddie calls you 'Princess' in that funny, affectionate way, but when he calls you 'sweetheart; you lose all your senses in the blink of an eye.

"Really?" It's the only thing you can think to say.

"Absolutely."

"Okay..."

Then you get brave—as brave as you can get. Licking your bottom lip, you look down at your lap and smile nervously. To have to gather the courage to look him in the eye as you smile gently at him. "You know how you can repay me for the concert?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "How?"

You bite the inside of your cheek, another breath for courage—"Go to prom with me?"

Eddie's smile falls. "I-"

"You don't have to go as my date. I just don't want to go alone," you say quickly, trying not to trap him or manipulate him or make him think you're trying to do either. "Chrissy's going with Jason, and I don't want to be a third wheel..." You sigh, looking him in the eyes and feeling your heart palpitating.

"Please?"

You're going to kill him one day, he's sure of it. The way his heart kicks at the sight of your pleading eyes is fatal, and he knows it because he can feel it in his chest. He sighs. It's his own fault. He let you be friends, and now he's head over heels...

"...Sure," he agrees. When you beam at him, the largest grin he's ever seen in his life, it's all worth it, his stupidity. "We'll go together."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says. "Just two friends...going to prom."

You'll take that. You would take a million "just two friends" over "we don't talk anymore". You'd do anything for him. "Yeah," you smile. "Thanks, Eds."

It's all worth it to see you smile. "No problem."

~

Eddie's nervous. You can tell in the way he keeps bumping into you. You would dismiss it as just the way the place is crowded, stocked to the brim with sweaty bodies, some already drunk in the first hour and others high.

Eddie's been to parties before, obviously. He's done senior year three times, of course he's been to parties.

But he's not used to being around so many people and not being stared at. Almost no one is looking at him.

"Why are we going to this thing again?" he'd asked as you were getting ready.

You shrugged. "It's pre-prom."

"But there's actual prom."

You smoothed out your lipstick before you turned to him. "Yeah, but actual prom is kinda boring 'cause of the family-friendly rules. Pre-prom is hosted by students with no real adult supervision, so...less boring." You shrugged again, turning away to fix a stray hair. "Besides, I have to make an appearance. Me and Chrissy since we're in the running for Prom Queen. Otherwise, we get no votes."

"People'll vote for you anyway," he smiled.

"I always just want a drink or two."

He laughed a little. "We can just go to my place then." When you shook your head and laughed at him, he did the same. "Why am I going?"

"Because you have to. 'Cause you're my date." You turned quickly, eyes wide and hands out, "My plus one." You think about it for a moment. "My friend-date."

"Your date," he agrees, nodding and laughing and hoping you don't freak out because he called himself your date when you're just going as friends. Just friends.

"Yeah, I'll go with you, Princess." He sighs dramatically so he doesn't sound too wistful.

But now he wishes he'd convinced you to just go to his place and lounge on his couch, watching stupid movies and eating popcorn and then throwing popcorn at the screen when they do something stupid.

He holds your hand. You squeeze it, pulling him further inside with you and comforting him with all you have.

It becomes easier when you find Chrissy. Chrissy is very welcoming and helps you help Eddie settle because she's sweet and you're sweet and he loves you—your sweetness—he loves your sweetness.

When he has a beer in his hand—his only beer tonight, he's decided—and your hand in his other, he's laughing and letting you dance around him. Some people get upset with him when he accidentally bumps into them, and others give him dirty looks for the sake of giving dirty looks, but under the light in your eyes, he doesn't care. He doesn't even notice.

He watches your nose scrunch up in that adorable way that means you're truly happy. He keeps looking at you with the fondest eyes and the gentlest touches and the most wonderful smiles. You can't take it—he's so pretty with his doe eyes and smile lines and long lashes and his big nose and crazy hair and plump lips.

"Quit smiling at me," you giggle, pulling on his hand in yours. "I can't focus when you look at me like that."

"Like what?" he laughs. Then he makes a face, his eyes going wide and his smile showing all his teeth and his brows pulling together goofily. "Like this?"

"No, not like that," you laugh, smacking his shoulder lightly. He hears a squeak in your giggle and is thrown into his own fit. All your best laughs have squeaks in them. "Go back to how you were!"

You're both too sweet on each other, and he laces your fingers together to make sure you can't go away—even though you'd never.

"Oh, so now you want me to look at you?" he hums.

"Just not like a crazy person." He pulls you in so you're flat against his chest, and you don't have time to let your breath hitch until he's spinning you out again.

"How does a crazy person look?" He sets his beer down, pushing his hands into his hair and shaking it up. It sticks out all kinds of ways, a total mess.

"Like that," you nod dramatically.

"Like that?"

"Yeah." You add to the madness, your fingers carding through his hair. "Certified insane. It's a good look on you."

He snorts, fixing his hair again, "Yeah, I think so, too." When it's only in slight disarray, he sighs and looks down at you.

Eddie thinks you're beautiful. He likes your hair and your face and your soft hands and your pretty lips and bright eyes. He wants to hug you, but he'll settle for taking your hand when he realizes he's been staring at you for too long.

He starts pulling you with him as he walks. "Come on. I–"

A surprised gasp forces its way from your chest. You don't have time to process what's happening until after it's done. All you know is that it gets really cold and wet, and now your white dress is stained a bright red.

A round of snickering is heard above you. You look up to see a group of boys laughing obnoxiously over the stairs, a large bowl once filled with punch braced in their hands as they do. Everyone stands in shock, all talk ceasing when they see the sight of you drenched in red and these boys cracking up from it. It takes them a moment to catch wise...

Eddie is the first one to snap out of the shock, ignoring his hand, sleeve, and shoes just as wet. He mumbles something under his breath. Even in the relative silence, you don't make out the tiny "baby" that slips from his lips.

He sees your bottom lip tremble, your lashes already clumped with punch now clumping with the oncoming tears. The sudden urge to make everything okay again fills every inch of his bones. And as he looks up at these boys who'd hurt you, he wants nothing more than to let his fist meet pompous cheekbones.

"Tommy?" Your voice is meek, wavering with a brimming sorrow.

The other boys stop laughing immediately, looking down at you as their eyes fill with shock...and even fear. Tommy H, the main culprit, isn't so quick. When he notices their sudden change, he looks down as well.

That was meant for Eddie. Not you.

Now he knows fear.

Eddie watches your face contort even more until you're crying, tears falling down your cheeks and adding to the mess. He reaches out for your face, but you don't seem to notice as you rush past him, sniffles and all.

Eddie doesn't even get to shoot Tommy a threatening glare. He completely forgets about him for the moment in favor of following you through the house and out of the door, his shoes squeak-squeaking behind him.

He guesses you notice him following, because you reach a hand out behind you and catch his as you continue running out. Everyone parts ways, letting you pass without trouble. Eddie hears shouting behind him but keeps after you without a second thought.

You make it all the way to his van, parked outside in the crowded mess of cars and trucks. He opens the back doors for you so you can sit properly. You do, dropping your face in your hands as your chest heaves and you sob.

"Are you okay?" he asks, almost frantically. He runs his hands through your hair and gets you to look up at him so he can see your face clearly. It's covered in tears and punch and running mascara.

That same silent "oh, baby," passes his lips again, but you can hardly see the movement of it through your tears, so it's lost on you once more. Eddie's hands move to cradle your face. You keep sniffling, letting your body shake with shuddering breaths.

A horrible feeling curls in his chest. "Jesus," he mutters ruefully. "I should go back there and beat his ass."

He looks in the direction of the house, but you're already stopping him. "No, wait," you sniff. "It's okay."

But he's pissed. "No, it definitely is not okay–"

He's cut off by the sound of the front door opening forcefully. You both turn to see what's happening. As soon as you see Tommy H's freckled face, you hide in Eddie's chest. His gentle hands keep you there, rubbing and comforting you.

Tommy's running. He and the friends who hadn't escaped bolt from the house faster than Eddie thinks he's ever seen anyone run.

Someone hollers inside, and suddenly the entire football team is chasing after the boys, shouting and whooping and out for blood in the cover of street lamps in the night.

Directly behind them, Chrissy, Steve Harrington, and some brown-haired girl, stand by the door. They look after the boys but ultimately turn toward you. Chrissy doesn't look at all worried.

Eddie's attention is caught by a shouting voice.

"Y/N!" Jason Carver yells. "Do you need a ride home?"

You look up from Eddie's chest, wipe your face a little, and shake your head. "No. Eddie's taking me." You sniffle pitifully, "But thank you, Jason."

He nods, "No problem." Turning to Eddie, he raises his finger in a harsh point. "Take her home safe, Munson, or I'll skin you like a cat." He turns in the direction they're running, still in sight. He shouts loudly. "You better fucking run, you son of a bitch!"

"Hey, it's okay," you say, "You can let Tommy go." Eddie looks at you, obviously disagreeing, but says nothing.

Jason makes a face. "Why would I do that?" Then he's off again, shouting after the team and the runners.

You look toward the figures walking toward you and Eddie. Chrissy shakes her head gently, seemingly amused (only to you) but not smiling. Steve's expression is completely different, as he looks genuinely concerned but ultimately sympathetic. The other girl looks worried.

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks, setting his hands on his hips and leaning.

You nod, wiping your nose and rubbing your hands on your wet clothes. It's not coming out. "Yeah..." you mumble, squeezing a couple tears out.

He sighs, "Tommy's way outta line for that one. I'm sorry, princess."

Eddie gets jealous for a moment that he's called you by his name for you before he remembers... Everyone calls you princess. It's basically your name.

"S'okay."

You glance at the girl, who gives a small nervous smile. She mouths silently, "I'm Robin." You give her the best smile you can manage. "Hope you're okay," she says gently.

Chrissy nods gently to herself. She shoots you a look, "Don't catch a cold." She looks at Eddie. "Get home safe. Both of you. Bye, babe."

You wave at her, a tiny lift of your hand from your lap. Another tear slips down your cheek.

"Come on, sweetheart."

Eddie braces a hand behind your back and eases you to stand. You do, taking his hand and letting him lead you. Steve pats his back gently before he's stepping away. Eddie closes the back door and opens your own like a gentleman. The three wave their goodbyes and start back toward the house.

He closes your door and goes to his side. The engine roars to life after having to twist the key a couple times. He starts driving. You're really quiet.

Eddie reaches a hand down and sets it gently on your knee, hoping it's not weird but also too worried about you to care. "Are you okay, Princess?"

You nod. "Yeah." You take in a large breath.

He shakes his head, his hand flexing on the wheel. "Why would you want them to let him go?" He hates the idea of someone hurting you and getting away with it. You deserve so much more.

"Hm?" You look at him, wiping the tears in your eyes. "Oh, I don't." You clear your throat and sniff. As you lick your lips, your face scrunches at the taste of alcoholic punch and lipstick. Eddie watches you try to wipe your face clean as best you can with your hands.

Your face scrunches. "Shit, I'm all sticky now."

Eddie's going to get whiplash.

"What?"

"Hm?" you look at him again. All evidence of your crying is gone. Your teary eyes are now only slightly watering, with your face kind of clean, no new fresh tears take their place. The sadness is wiped clean. You look back at him with the least amount of sorrow he's ever seen on you.

When you feel the van turning, you say his name and it swerves back in place. He puts his other hand back on the wheel.

"You were faking it?"

Suddenly, you smile. Eddie can't stand you.

"Of course," you say, shrugging. "It's just punch."

He sighs, feeling a little stupid but mostly just...amused. And really fucking relieved. He hates seeing you cry. You deserve so much more.

"I thought you were upset."

You laugh and he no longer has any reason to be upset. "No," you chuckle, "but Tommy's not happy."

He shakes his head. "I'm so confused."

You smile and sigh gently. "Thomas Hagan just poured a whole punch bowl on me—" you make doe eyes, "—the sweet, innocent princess of Hawkins—and then laughed his ass off like it was the funniest shit in the world." You shake your head, not at all upset. "He's not coming back from that."

Eddie smiles slowly. You're enjoying this. "You little–"

"He'll be blacklisted. No more hangouts, no more parties. He's done."

Eddie can't believe you. "Manipulative."

You pinch your fingers slightly and smile as you look through them. "Just a little."

"You're seriously not upset?" he wonders.

You're drenched head to toe, your hair is clumpy, your skin is sticky, your makeup is running all over your face, and your dress is forever ruined. But you're smiling like all is well with the world.

Again, you shrug. "I'll have to take a long shower now, but I'm okay."

He snorts lightly. "I bet."

You lean in slowly, smirking and bobbing your brows. "Never get on my bad side." A reminder. The one he asked for the last time Tommy had done something unbecoming.

And Eddie laughs. Not because he doesn't take you seriously, but because he just likes you so much. You are... everything to him.

Doing his best to keep his eyes on the road, he laughs loudly and fills the van with the sound of it. You get giddy at accomplishing such a feat and can't help but laugh with him. It's loud and obnoxious and just what you both needed. Warmth blooms in your chest, despite the cold shivers coming in, and you couldn't be happier.

~

Eddie pulls up on the curb, opening your door—like a gentleman—and helping you out. You mumble a quick apology about his sticky seats, to which he replies that those seats have seen worse. You don't know what he means, but you're hoping your idea is wrong.

In the driveway, yours and your dad's cars are parked and idle. Your mother is gone on a business trip—her boss' secretary—so he's probably home alone.

"Play it cool," you whisper to Eddie as you get to the door, messing with your sticky hair to make it look worse than it is. "How do I look?"

"Terrible," he lies.

"Great," you beam. You let your face fall immediately, and you look pitifully pretty.

You take Eddie's hand and let him open the door for you. As he's closing it, you glance around. "Daddy?"

"Yes, honey." You hear his footsteps as he enters the foyer. He turns the corner, "I thought you would be out longer–"

He looks up, stopping abruptly as he realizes what a mess you are. He furrows his brows, walking closer. "What happened to you?" He goes in to hug you, pausing when he sniffs. "Why do you smell like that?"

"Just..." you sniffle and Eddie watches a tear slip down your cheek. He thinks you're ridiculous, and he loves every moment of it. "Something happened at the party."

He picks up your hands and holds them in his palms. "What happened?"

You shake your head, looking down at the buttons of his shirt. Eddie stands close behind you, a hand on your back for support. It's warm, and you like the feeling of it. "Nothing."

"No," your father hums, tilting your chin up to look at him, "tell me."

You take in a big breath and let it out in a sigh. Your bottom lip trembles. "Tommy H," you confess. "He poured punch over my head on top of the stairs." You will more tears from your eyes. Your breath hitches, and you shake your head, "I'm sure it was an accident... He probably didn't mean to do it."

Technically, he didn't. It was meant for Eddie. But that's no better. You did warn him.

He raises a brow. "It looks like he spilled the whole bowl on you." He looks at his hand, red fruit punch staining his palm now.

You nod, a slow up and down that has him frowning deeper.

"Hey," he hums. "He won't mess with you anymore."

"Really?"

He nods, holding your chin. "Of course. No one messes with my little girl and gets away with it. We're cutting him off."

Bingo.

You shake your head, "It's okay. You don't have to do that."

He smiles gently, "But I will." He nudges your chin gently before letting you go. "Go get washed up."

He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and begins wiping his hands clean. "Thank you, Daddy." You would hug him, but you're still sticky. You're sure he wouldn't mind, but you'd rather avoid the mess anyway.

"Of course, honey." You kiss his cheek as you turn toward the stairs with Eddie's hand in yours. As his foot lands on the first stair, your father stops him.

"Hey."

Eddie turns.

"Did you drive her home?"

"Yes, sir."

He grunts. "Did you beat that Tommy kid up?"

Eddie shakes his head. "No, sir. Jockeys had him," he looks at you, spying a gleam in your eyes and smiling a bit. "I was just trying to get her home."

There's a short silence as your father smiles. He gives a firm nod, "Good man."

Relief fills his chest as he nods back. "Thank you, sir." You pull him up the stairs. He takes off his jacket.

You close the door behind him, your smile returning as you kick off your shoes. "Not only did we blacklist Tommy," you turn back to him, "but my dad also loves you now. Congrats."

Eddie furrows his brow as he heads toward your bathroom. "He does?" He turns on the sink, washing his sticky hands.

You nod. "Yeah." You disappear into your closet, coming back a moment later with a towel on your arm. "That's fatherly approval. You defended my honor, my knight in shining armor."

You take his arm and kiss his cheek as you walk past him. He feels giddy. "At least someone's parents love me." He starts taking off his shoes, setting them next to yours. Eddie sits at the edge of your bed.

You snort. "I'm gonna take a shower. Don't be a perv."

He kicks the floor playfully and sighs. "Ruined my whole night."

You point at him threateningly. "I'll tell my dad on you."

"I'll take pictures with me then. To remember you by." He winks.

You return the wink. "I'll make sure to pose for you."

You disappear into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Eddie sits in your room, smiling pathetically, so happy that you're okay and he's okay and he's your knight in shining armor.

Here he is, smiling like an idiot, surrounded by the scent of you in your room with all your pictures and all your knick-knacks. He slides onto the floor, resting his head back on the mattress. God, he's in trouble.

He's flipping through one of the books on your shelves when you come out, a cloud of steam following you as you dry your hair. He looks over your outfit, smiling but offering you a confused look.

"Is that mine?"

You look down at your shirt, one of his band tees that you'd taken a couple weeks ago. He'd been looking for that. You can keep it.

"Yeah," you nod. "I stole it from your room."

He chuckles. "Well, finders, keepers, I guess."

You smile, walking toward your drawer stocked with VHS tapes. "You wanna watch a movie? I can go make popcorn."

"Sure." He raises his brows. "Can I take a shower? I don't wanna get spiked punch everywhere."

You snort. "Course. There are towels in there, and some of your clothes are in my closet."

He tilts his head, sighing. "How many of my clothes have you stolen?"

You raise your hands in defense. "Just a few shirts and like...one pair of sweatpants."

He shakes his head at you as he goes to get a pair. He closes the bathroom door softly behind him.

He likes your bathroom. It's clean and mostly organized. It smells like lavender and rose, pearly whites and pale blues. He almost expected pink.

~

Eddie appreciated the weight of your body against his as you lean into his side. Labyrinth plays on the TV as the minutes tick by into the night.

He keeps looking at you, your heavy eyes drooping as you struggle to stay awake. It's late. You should be sleeping, but you're staying awake for him. It takes a lot not to turn his head and kiss the top of your own.

"You're warm," you mumble.

He smiles a little. "Yeah?" With the arm thrown over your shoulders, his fingers play with your hair. "You gettin' sleepy?" He knows the answer.

You nod, a sluggish movement against his arm. "Mhm."

He picks up the remote slowly, turning down the TV just a little more. "You should go to sleep then."

Your body becomes a little heavier against him. He takes all your weight, proud to. "Mmm," you slur. "Finish the movie."

A very light chuckle, as light as he can make it, eases from his chest. "We can finish it another time," he says so, so softly.

"No...Watch it now."

He does kiss your hairline this time, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. "Go to sleep, bossy."

He's not sure if you mean to say it, he's not even sure if you know you've said it. But when you whisper that little "love you", he loses his mind.

He smiles so wide, he feels his whole face start to hurt. He hadn't realized it would make him so happy to hear that, to hear your little confession spoken gently into the warmth of his chest. He turns his head so his words go into your hair. "Yeah?"

"Mmm."

He opens his mouth, thinks, and smiles. "I love you, too, baby."

You hum, and then he feels you slump. He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind the way he can't move his arm, he doesn't mind the way your hair gets in his face. He turns off the TV, leans back as slowly as he can, and lays the both of you down against your pillow to sleep.

You love him.

~

The entire day consists of Chrissy at your place getting ready for prom. The music doesn't stop and neither does the energy. You keep her happy and entertained and well-fed and then distracted again with more excitement so she doesn't get self-conscious and start panicking.

You also spend a lot of time keeping all the parents from the room. Your mothers keep trying to "help", and you keep having to kick them out because they're both annoying and overbearing.

Eddie keeps calling you. The walky-talky Dustin gave you both goes off regularly, at least once an hour to ask a question you'd had answered for days now.

"It is red, right? Not blue? It can't be blue; Chrissy's wearing blue." "Which knot are we doing on the bowtie? Wayne only knows the simple one but he's got a magazine with the other ones." "Am I leaving my hair down?" "I drive to your place, and then we take your car, right?"

"Yes, it's red. The whole outfit we picked is right." "Try the simple one. I can fix it if it looks weird, but it shouldn't. I trust you." "Do what makes you comfortable. I'll love it either way." "That's right. I know you really want to drive it." "Eddie, everything's gonna be fine. Don't worry."

"I know," he sighs. "I just don't wanna mess this up for you. I know you've been looking forward to it."

You giggle a bit. "As long as I get to spend time with you, Eds, tonight will be great."

"Such a charmer," he teases.

"It's my natural talent."

You set the device down, taking your spot across from Chrissy once more. She's smiling at you, albeit nervously.

"Are you sure I look okay?"

You smile, pinching her chin before reclaiming the small brush and finishing off the short, sleek wing of her eyeliner, all while holding your breath so you don't accidentally screw up. You draw a tiny heart just above the apple of her cheek.

"You are," you set the eyeliner down, "absolutely beautiful. You always are."

"Are you sure?" she says, a telling hand creeping to her belly.

You take her face in your hands, careful not to screw up her freshly done makeup. "Chrissy," you whisper, "you're perfect. Always, all the time, no matter what. I will never lie to you, and I'll never sugarcoat it. You're amazing, and I love you."

She takes a slow breath in and nods, smiling prettily. "Love you, too." You kiss her forehead.

"Now do my eyes," you smile, handing her a makeup brush. She giggles as she takes it.

And later on, as the night gets closer and the sun is beginning its descent, you and Chrissy are walking down the steps, holding each other's hands.

All the parents are gathered downstairs, smiling as your mothers cling to your fathers' sides. Your father smiles as you come down. "You both look like royalty," he declares, holding his arms open for you. Your mother moves to give you the space.

"Thank you, Daddy," you hum.

He pulls you back to see your face. "Anything for you, princess." He kisses your forehead.

Chrissy's sharing her own hug with her father. "I trust they were the dresses you wanted," he says.

She nods. "They were. Thank you, Daddy."

"Whatever you want, angel." He kisses her cheek.

Your father pats him on the back as they both wander into the kitchen, your mother follows behind them.

You try not to grimace when Laura stays back, looking her daughter up and down with a grimace of her own.

"I still think I should have loosened that dress up a little more." She moves forward, placing her hands on Chrissy's waist and trying to adjust the fabric.

Chrissy tries to smile through her discomfort. She puts a hand over her stomach and you retire your hard side-eye to come to her side. You weave your arm around her as you give her a reassuring grin.

"Well, I think you look beautiful." You nudge her chin, she smiles. "I envy you."

"I don't know," she tsks. "She's a little too big for her dress. Especially around the hips..."

You smile, turning to the side as you mumble under your breath. "Funny how you barely fit in that large sized dress."

Her brows shot up. "What was that?"

"Hm?" you ask, turning back to her. "Nothing. I was just saying you didn't need to stress."

She huffs, "You said something about a large."

Chrissy's head dips, attempting to cover a grin as you loop your arm through her elbow. "I was just...admiring your large heel."

There's silence as she stares at the both of you. Chrissy tries not to laugh at your dangerous idiocy whilst also struggling with not shrinking under her mother's terrible gaze. You have no issue in staring her right back down, your head tilting and your cordial smile held strong on your lips.

"You mean...'high' heel?" she corrects.

The tension in the air is thick. Chrissy finds it difficult to stand still as she shifts from foot to foot, staring down at the floor or the wall or her bracelet. Anything to avoid looking her mother in the eye—or you, for that matter, in fear that she would burst with laughter and build herself her own grave.

You hum and nod. "Of course. High horse—heel. My apologies."

Her hand raises to her chest, seemingly shocked by the blatant 'disrespect'. "You are being very disrespectful, young lady."

You were trying to be subtle but something about Chrissy's mother rips all the subtlety from you as you furrow your brows but continue to smile. "Oh, I wasn't aware decency was considered disrespectful."

Chrissy nudges your side gently, whispering your name in an urgent reprimanding. "What? What did I say?" you wonder.

Laura isn't having it. "Why, I should go tell your mother about your unpleasant behavior."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You try to look regretful, but you're sure you're missing the mark by a few hairs. "Oh, forgive me, Ms. Cunningham."

She huffs. "Missus, young lady."

"Right," you nod. "Mrs. Cunningham. I apologize." You tighten your grip on Chrissy's arm just a slight, making it harder for her to keep it together. She loves you, and she thinks you're hilarious. "It's unbecoming of a lady—such as myself—to behave in such a way."

"Yes, it is," she agrees. "One would think a girl like you would behave more appropriately."

You nod firmly. "Of course. I should respect my elders—I apologize, my superiors."

You could gag at the idea of it.

But she can't stand your "disrespect" any more as she huffs and shakes her head, making a various amount of scoffing noises as she begins walking away. "The nerve of children these days."

She leaves the both of you alone. Once you're sure she's out of earshot, Chrissy bends over laughing, covering her mouth and shaking her head to keep quiet.

"You're gonna get in trouble," she whisper-yells. Instead of shoving you away, she tightens her grip to pull you closer. Your foreheads practically touch as the two of you form a conspiring huddle.

You scoff. "I'm Daddy's angel. Doesn't matter what she tells my mom—who will tell my dad—Daddy's angel knows no wrong." It's a truth you repeat often, but it's one of those truths that have always been indisputable.

"Daddy's princess," she corrects you. "I'm the angel."

You shrug, humming. "You're technically the queen."

It's funny. You probably have a higher social standing than Chrissy does, but she was always the Queen of Hawkins while you were simply the princess—not that you minded, you would always support her.

Neither of you are quite sure why that is, but you think it may be because she became a cheerleader before you and then started dating Jason Carver. It doesn't matter. As long as you have her by your side, you would accept being the jester in this high school court of a kingdom.

Chrissy smiles, another giggle rattling her body. "So strange how you don't listen to me then."

You gasp dramatically. "I do! Otherwise I'd be out of the business, Your Highness. We both know I'm a little too dramatic to process common sense sometimes." She rolls her eyes playfully at you. "Exhibit A, Eddie."

She snorts. "Yeah, you were a little confused a couple times there.*

You gasp again, pretending to elbow her in the side. "You're mean!" She giggles again as you call out. "Daddy! Time for pictures."

"Coming, princess," he calls from the kitchen.

Chrissy whispers to you, "You're crazy."

You wink. "Crazy for you."

She rolls her eyes.

All the parents return with a camera. There are a multitude of flashes as they get every possible picture they could need—you and Chrissy, you and your parents, you and your dad, Chrissy and her parents, Chrissy and her dad, Chrissy and her mom (because her mother is insistent). More pictures will be taken when the boyfriends show up.

Jason is the first of the two to show up. As you predicted, there are more pictures. And as soon as those pictures are done, he and Chrissy leave, but not without a pink kiss to your cheek.

Then Eddie shows—without blaring his music through his speakers tonight. He isn't late, in fact he's perfectly on time.

As he walks up the steps to the house, he behaves like a gentleman the whole way. He rings the doorbell, you answer it before your father can, and you give Eddie your best smile.

He looks so handsome. He's in a black tux with a red dress shirt. His black bowtie is perfect, and you're sure it's because he didn't stop until it was. You would have thought he would keep his hair down, but he wants to impress you. His hair is shiny with product and so, so curly. He's got it pulled back in a half-up man bun.

And, of course, his rings are still in place. Shiny, freshly polished. Jesus, you loved him.

"Wow," he sighs at the sight of you. His doe eyes are wide, and his plump lips are parted. He looks starstruck.

"Do you hate it?" you worry, looking down at your dress. The theme is royalty in yours and Chrissy's honors. So, as intended, you look like a princess.

He shakes his head. "No."

You try not to mess with your hair by running your hands through it. "Is it too much?"

Eddie grabs your hand, smiling as he squeezes it gently. "You look fuckin' beautiful."

Your eyes seem to shine, and Eddie thinks you're trying to kill him. "Really?" you smile.

"You look like a princess," he promises, looking at you too closely. You're so, so pretty.

Something hits him, not literally. "Oo!" he exclaims, taking a step back. He turns on his heel with no explanation and rushes back to his van. You watch him, thinking that he's a total dork and that you wanna kiss him silly. There's something about being dressed up like this and being his not-date to prom that makes your feelings for him just that much more potent.

Usually you can get through the first five minutes without imagining your faces squished together in a too-affectionate kiss, but you can't help right now but to be riddled with the fantasy.

He comes back with something uselessly hidden behind his back. "I have this. Close your eyes."

You do as you're told because you trust him, and you would hold a ticking bomb in your palms if he asked you to. You feel him place something on your head—a tiara, you presume.

"Shit," he huffs breathlessly.

You peak your eyes open, raising your hands to feel the tiara with happy fingers. You want to burst. You're so much of a princess to him that he needed to give you a tiara. You're proper royalty now.

"Too much?" you ask.

"Never," he's quick to say. He smiles. "You're perfect."

You don't know what compelled you to say it. "Shit, you might as well kiss me now."

"Huh?" he wonders, as though he wasn't paying attention. You don't think he was.

He was. He definitely was.

"Nothing," you say anyway, covering your words with a grin as you take his hand and pull him inside. "Come on, my mom wants a picture."

He raises a brow, pointing to himself like a dummy. "With me?"

"'Course." You thread your hand through his elbow, and he gladly allows it.

"Seriously?" he asks.

"Yeah," you giggle. "We'll give some to Wayne, too. I'm sure he'd like a picture."

"Yeah," he mutters, fully agreeing but also slightly confused. You like him confused, he's sweet either way.

~

Eddie is a gentleman. As soon as you get to the party, he rushes out of the car just to open your door for you—as he always does. He takes your hand in the crook of his elbow and leads you inside. You smile the whole way, and he tells you that you're pretty when you smile. Your face hurts from smiling so much.

When you're inside, the music is already pounding in the floors and a lot of people are dancing. There are also, however, plenty of people sitting at the sidelines, watching others enjoy their time. People with no dates, people with dates ignoring them, people in friend groups. You notice Tommy H's freckled face hasn't shown up yet. A sly smirk threatens to overtake your warm smile.

You and Eddie spend the first hour dealing with everyone coming up to compliment you. You both expected this. The party's just started, you're running for queen, and...you look beautiful. Eddie does his best to swat away any of the vultures. When you spy Chrissy, you stick next to her and brave the vultures together.

Until Jason pulls her away for punch. She kisses your cheek as she goes, allowing her boyfriend to drag her away again. You don't mind, it gives you time with Eddie and his excited affection.

"Sup, Harrington," he calls when he spots Steve and—the girl you've come to know as—Robin Buckley. "I thought they didn't let old men in here."

Steve rolls his eyes as his palm smacks Eddie's. "You're older than me, Munson."

Eddie shrugs that heavy shouldered shrug and snorts. "By, like, a year."

Steve shakes his head and turns away from him, setting his eyes upon you. With a warm smile, he greets you. "You look great, Y/N."

"Like, drop dead gorgeous. You are stunning," Robin spews, taking in your outfit with plenty of appreciation for your style. A tiny squeal escapes her as she does.

"Thank you," you answer genuinely. You've grown to really like Robin in a short span of time. She's so sweet and geeky, and you love getting to hang out with her and Chrissy on the days where you've kicked the boys out. "You look beautiful, Bobby."

She seems to blush, looking down at her dress and nodding. It's probably too dressy for her, but your compliment makes her feel better. "Yeah, thanks."

She nudges Steve in the side hard enough for him to bring a hand to it and mutter a weak, "Ow."

"Steve wishes he had a date. He couldn't score one," she teases.

The three of you laugh as he rolls his eyes at the abuse. He'd hoped you would at least be nice to him, but it seems you've followed in Eddie's cruel footsteps. "Har, har. Laugh it up."

Robin takes his arm then, her giggles melting into her words as she smiles wide. "Anyway, we should go check out the punch. I heard someone spiked it and now we've got booze!"

Robin starts walking away with Steve, but when he pauses, she doesn't stop to wait for him. Steve sidles up to Eddie, leaning down to whisper in his ear and keep away from your prying ones. "It's now or never, dude. Don't keep making us listen to your gross pining."

Eddie grumbles, masking his anxiety with annoyance as he rolls his eyes. "I don't pine."

Steve scoffs. "Yeah, right."

Eddie pushes him away, to which Steve raises his hands in mock defense as he goes to catch up with Robin. He waves at you on his way. As if on cue, the music changes to something slow and steady, something romantic, and Eddie thinks the world is mocking him. When Eddie turns back to you, you're smiling at a couple who'd come up to say hi. He waits patiently for them to leave before he holds his kind of shaky hand out to you.

"D'you wanna dance?" he asks after clearing his throat a couple times.

You smile that drop-dead smile at him and he finds it a little harder to breathe. You slip your hand into his palm, and he hopes his isn't sweaty. "Yeah," you mumble fondly, standing close as you let him guide you to a spot within the dancing couples. Your heart beats so fast, drowning on his nervous fondness.

He holds you with timid hands, one in your hand and one on your side. You're just familiar enough that his touch does not feel as awkward as you feel. You try not to melt against him, to lay your head upon his chest and close your eyes, to let him sway you with the gentleness he feels swelling in his chest and tingling in his fingers.

He stares at your face, and it feels natural for him to do so. Your hand on his shoulder slides further to wrap around the back of his neck. He smiles at the soft glow in your eyes, the little sparkle of life that erupts every time you look at him.

"You're really pretty," he whispers as his eyes look over all the glorious features of your face: your soft lips, your kind eyes, your plush cheeks, your adorable nose, your fluttering lashes he wants to feel lay little butterfly kisses on his face.

You look down from his eyes momentarily, hoping the warmth in your cheeks and the shortness of your breath isn't too evident. "This dress was really expensive, so I'm glad you think so–"

He doesn't mean to cut you off, but he does. "I'm not talking about the dress." He can't help it when his hand strays from your hand to hold the side of your face, his thumb brushing the gentlest touch against the apple of your cheek. "You're pretty without the dress."

You stare at him with the biggest, shiniest eyes. He loves when you look at him like this.

Then he realizes maybe he weirded you out.

"N-Not, like, naked! I just meant, y'know, even without the fancy dress, just in regular clothes, too. You're just..." he clears his throat pathetically, "you're really pretty."

You tip your head back to laugh sweetly, the one with the squeaks—the one he really likes because of its sincerity. His hand wraps farther around your waist. You respond—seemingly unconsciously—by setting your other arm on his shoulder. He secures both hands at your waist.

"I know what you meant, Eddie," you giggle, giving him one last squeak just to please him—though he knows you didn't do it on purpose.

He nods, letting his own giddy laugh escape him. "Cool."

A chuckle, one of the ones that goes through your nose as you stifle a grin. You move slowly, like you're trying not to startle an animal, as you set your head on his chest. You step just a slight closer, and he graciously lets his hands wrap tighter around you. His head rests against the top of your heart.

It's close and warm and it makes you both smile. He smells nice, familiar, like the cologne you bought him, deodorant, and cigarettes. Under the music and the sound of his clothes brushing your ear, you can hear the faintest beat of his heart. It's quick, heavy. You can feel it against your cheek if you really focus.

You chuckle so lightly. "Eddie, calm down. Your heart is, like, super fast."

He clears his throat, speaking through his fond haze. "My bad."

He's so nervous. Steve's words play over and over again in his mind. "It's now or never, it's now or never, it's now or never, it's now–" and he is so afraid to pick now that all he does is sway and breathe the scent of your soft perfume, and under that, your—supposedly—scentless lotion.

He's so afraid that he's missed his chance. He knows you love him, but he's stuck on the possibility that you don't love him like you did. Maybe now, after having waited so long, you love him like a best friend, you love him like a brother. Maybe now that he's finally fallen for you, you don't have the capacity to stay low with him.

He's so afraid.

You both sway to the music, moving so slowly. There's a pause, it feels like. You feel like something is supposed to be said or done but...no one is doing it. The music changes again, but neither of you have stopped your slow dance. You rue the moment you have to tear away from him.

But there was a pause.

"Do you want to stop?" you ask gently, hoping against hope that he says no.

And he answers your prayer better than you could have asked for. It's a quick, "absolutely not," that leaves no time for any conceived hesitation.

You're so relieved. "Okay..."

His response is just as immediate. "I like you."

You look up at him, smiling gently. The sight of him warms your heart, all the softness in his big features, all the gleaming in his dark eyes. "I like you, too."

"No, like..." he sighs, struggling to say what he wants to say as his hands find firmer purchase at your waist out of nerves. "I really like you."

You're confused as to how to respond. Smiling strangely and furrowing a brow, you chuckle, "Thank you?"

Not quite. "I mean–"

"Eddie," you pause, donning a playful voice. "You're being weird again."

He wants to laugh but his ears are burning. "What I mean to say is..." now or never, "I fuckin' love you."

Your heart leaps to your throat, and you almost choke on it. It's beating so fast, you feel it in every pulse in your body. "Like..." you think quickly, though your thoughts are jumbled. "Like a friend? Like Steve and Robin."

"Not at all."

You shake your head, thinking his not platonic love for you is too good to be true. "I'm confused."

He's already said it, there's no use in being shy. He chuckles, and then takes a deep breath, and then blows it out. You stare up at him, eyes gleaming and lips parted so delicately. He wants to kiss you.

"I'm..." Breathe. "I'm in love with you, Princess." And then your heart stops. You're surprised you haven't fallen in the middle of the dance floor. He holds you up with all the fondness in his heart. "I was trying not to fall for you, I wasn't going to–" he says it with the same resolve as picking up candy at the gas station, like loving you is such an easy thing to do, "–but then we started hanging out, and you ended up being really, really cool. Then, I sort of just..." He sighs, trying to find the words. "I started really liking you. Then I picked you up for that concert, and you were so gorgeous—you always are. And I picked you up tonight and saw you in this...fuckin' awesome dress, and I couldn't breathe because you're just... You're so beautiful, and–"

You shut him up with a kiss. You sit here and listen to his compliments forever, but you couldn't wait any longer to feel his lips on yours. You've wanted this for so long, craved this kind of intimacy with him since you first saw him and thought he was super weird. And he was, you were right. You often are.

His lips are soft and warm, and you love the feeling of kissing him. It sways in your chest and warms the pit of your stomach, and it tingles in your fingers and ears and you just...lean into it like it's such a natural thing. Your hand wraps around the back of his head, tangling in his hair to pull him closer. His hands tighten around your waist and pull you flush against him. Happy hands hold the other, an innocent desperation to be near.

Fuck, you love him and his stupid anxiety. You love him in all his strangeness, his eccentricities, his eager hands and giddy eyes. Kissing him is one of the best decisions you've made, and it's one you hope you can continue to make forever and ever and ever.

When your lips pull apart and you're breathing each other's air, you keep your eyes closed as your lashes flutter. "I love you, too," you whisper, pulling him even closer. Your affection for him had only grown over the last few months, from a swelling warmth to a bursting excitement that grows still with every Eddie-ism.

"Sorry it took so long," he replies, your lips brushing with his words as his hand raises to brush your cheek.

You shrug lazily. "I'm glad it happened at all," you're still so close. You forget the music is still playing, you forget people are dancing to something fast and loud, you forget people are probably staring and talking and laughing and dancing and carrying on while you and Eddie are stuck in your own world, confessing and kissing and loving.

You chuckle, resting your head on his chest for a moment before lifting up again. "Chrissy'll be ecstatic."

He laughs, his hand splayed along your lower back as he rubs the spot affectionately. "Yeah, well... They certainly are."

You look over to where he motions with his head, giggling when you see Steve and Robin beaming and throwing thumbs up at the two of you, as though they were being subtle in their celebration. If you look over just a bit, you can see Chrissy smiling like it was her being kissed and loved on so sweetly. She pulls Jason with her as she joins the other two in your success—which is, in turn, their success.

You snort. "You have weird friends."

"Correction: we have weird friends."

What's mine is yours, what's yours is mine. You're okay with that.

You get giddy all over again looking at his face. "I'm so fuckin' happy right now." You lift up on your toes and kiss him again, drinking in his loving affection. When you pull away, you smile wide.

"Do you wanna go to the movies with me?" he asks, bringing an eager hand up to cup your chin.

You smile, containing your laugh. "You won't stand me up?"

He laughs, a big one that rumbles in his entire body and spreads to your own. "No, I won't stand you up," he says. "I'll open your door like a gentleman, I'll buy your snacks, I'll drive you back home and give you a goodnight kiss."

Your voice is soft, though the music shouldn't permit it to be. "Can we go back to your place?"

"Mine?" he wonders. Yours is probably better, he thinks.

"Yours is better." It's like you've read his mind, and you need to prove him wrong with his own phrasing.

He shrugs, "It's small."

You respond with your own shrug, holding him a little longer. Your thumb rubs against the back of his neck. "It feels like a home."

He hums. "Not very gentlemanly, taking you back to my place."

You snort. "Not like my parents'll notice." The way you say it makes his heart hurt. They wouldn't realize I was gone. "Your house is lived in," you say with a new gentleness. "I want to be with you." And then you get shy, shrugging one shoulder and slanting your chin down to meet it. "And maybe I just want to make out with my boyfriend."

Eddie blushes all over at the word, like he's a school boy flirting with his playground crush. "Right?" you ask quickly. "I can call you that?"

"Please do."

You purse your lips and giggle at his eagerness. You can't help it, you kiss him again. You love the way he kisses, full of smiles and warmth and a hint of desperation.

You pull back, your hand on his chest. "Does this mean you'll let me buy you gifts again?"

He rolls his eyes and laughs lightly, shaking his head before conceding with a grin. "Within reason." He couldn't say no to you, especially not now.

Your hands sit fondly at either side of his face. Your thumbs brush his skin. "I can deal with that."

And this time, he kisses you.

Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @queermaxwooo @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog @thegr8estpuff @lover-of-books-and-tea @xxhanililoxx Eddie the Banished taglist: @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom

[faytelumos]

I'm trying to write a thing (probably only in my head, let's be realistic) and so I have some thoughts?

Sunshine x Grumpy prompts

(specifically a dommy Sunshine and a subby Grumpy, but read/swap these as you will)

Meetings

- They physically bump into each other in the street. Sunshine is trying to gather up Grumpy's stuff and straighten them out, but Grumpy is just trying to get away from Sunshine's overpowering energy.

-> Then afterwards, Grumpy is the one who keeps thinking about the encounter.

- There are no rooms left in the hotel/inn. Sunshine overhears Grumpy all but begging for any kind of room at all, and offers to share theirs.

- Every day, Grumpy walks past Sunshine dancing in a slightly inconvenient place (like a sidewalk or in front of a coffee shop). Eventually, they start watching Sunshine briefly when they come across them. Then, Sunshine makes direct eye contact and motions for them to dance, too.

-> Grumpy may not dance with them, but maybe Sunshine decides to make it their life's mission to tease out the dance moves in Grumpy's heart.

- Grumpy notices Sunshine gently handling a disliked/misunderstood animal. They instantly wonder if Sunshine would be willing to handle them (disliked and misunderstood as they are) so gently.

- People generally assume Grumpy is cruel/brutish in a fight. But when Sunshine sees them being merciful and diplomatic in the face of conflict, their heart goes all aflutter. They must not let this wonderful person slip through their fingers.

Acquaintances to Friends/Lovers

- They know each other only in passing, and Grumpy assumes Sunshine to be a total ditz. But when a fight between strangers breaks out in a tight space, Sunshine rushes into the fray to break it up. (Maybe the sight of Sunshine being strong and capable does something to Grumpy.)

-> Alternatively, it could be an emergency/crisis that Grumpy or another stranger are having (such as choking on something, a severe allergic reaction, or an illness or injury taking a sudden turn for the worse).

- They work together, and Sunshine has been making their way around the workplace day by day, doing something happy and cheerful and everything for each person. Grumpy is dreading the day it's their turn.

*Relationship Intensifies*

- Sunshine is a terrible cook. Grumpy pulls out the apron and shows them a thing or two.

- Sunshine opens up about their dark past during a quiet moment. It is remarkably (even freakishly) similar to what Grumpy went through.

- Sunshine notices that while Grumpy's actions say, "Do not perceive me," their body language screams, "I need you specifically to hold me."

- Over the past few weeks/months, Sunshine and Grumpy have been spending more and more time together. Right as Grumpy starts to feel comfortable opening up, they realize… Sunshine actually doesn't talk about themself. Practically at all.

After Dark

- Grumpy is too nervous/self-conscious to initiate, even though being with Sunshine is all they've been thinking about for the past ten minutes.

-> Sunshine miraculously notices and treats Grumpy so sweetly that Grumpy almost breaks.

->-> Or they do break, and Sunshine's happy to pick up the pieces afterwards.

- Sunshine's "I'll get a smile out of you yet!" attitude shifting into "You're mine and no one will ever hurt you" when things get hot.

- Grumpy's "I refuse to burden people with my presence" attitude becoming "Please, I need every last piece of you" when things get going.

- Grumpy and Sunshine have to switch roles a little when Sunshine drops after they're together.

[byunpum]

Hiiiiiiiiii! Can I make a funny T'su'tey request?

Im sure you know the lilo and stitch meme?

the idea is after neytiri and jake mate and become the Tashik and Olo'eyktan, tsu'tey has the freedom to pick a mate, but struggles to find genuine love. So he pleads to ewya for a mate who is "calm, sweet, kind, gentle, soft". But instead ewya gives him the exact opposite XD.

Pair: Tsu'tey x Human reader (why not <3)

Warning: None, tsu'tey being cute. Reader being a brat.

AVATAR MASTERLIST 

"Eywa…it is me again" says tsu'tey as he sits in the spirit tree. Sitting praying with all his heart. "I know I have asked this many times…but could you send me a being who loves me, someone who is kind. The best person you have…someone who will stay with me and not run away from me" says tsu'tey. After all this time, he was pretty sure he was ready to find his ideal partner. When he was younger, he used to be more relaxed about it, even falling in love with sylwanin. After that terrible event at grace's school, tsu'tey's whole life changed. He had now lost the love of his life and had to marry the younger sister of his now deceased beloved.

When jake came to the clan, it was also a big change for him. His whole world changed, and many bad things happened, but also some good things happened in that period. He no longer had to be with neytiri, not that he didn't like her…but they were like siblings. He felt more comfortable now that he knew she had her mate, and he was free. A year had passed since the confrontations with the people in the sky, and he felt it was time to start again. But everything seems to be going against him. No na'vi woman is fulfilling her standards…they're all wonderful. Amazing to be honest…but with none of them he feels that connection that he is supposed to feel when he sees her and knows that she is the one. He used to go pray to eywa to help him and light the way. He knew he was fooling himself, because she didn't work that way…but he had to try. Jake Sully had told him that Eywa had helped him and listened to him that time, why wouldn't she help a member of pure sage like him?

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes in surrender, he felt stupid. Very stupid… sitting down for the fourth time this week. "this is useless" tsu'tey thinks to himself, as he gets up from the ground. And disconnects himself from one of the tree's tentacles. Wiping his knees a little with his hands, he suppers and grunts with disapproval. Maybe he had to resign himself to the fact that he would never find his ideal mate…he would be alone for eternity. Tsu'tey didn't usually show his sensitive side with anyone, but this was affecting him a lot. Seeing the couples together….damn it, was mating season and he was alone. He starts to leave the tree and begin his walk home, again he was going alone to his hut. Walking slowly, lost in his thoughts. He was so immersed in his own being, that he barely heard the strange noises coming from above him.

It wasn't until he heard a loud noise that he stopped in his tracks and looked up. Out of nowhere and as if it was something sent from the sky. He saw a girl fall from a branch. How the hell did she get there? He doesn't know. And why is she here? He was going to find out. The girl fell very hard to the ground, and started moaning. "Shit…that!!! That hurt!!!" you speak, as you get up from the ground sitting on the wet jungle floor. You hadn't noticed tsu'tey's presence, so you were no stranger to being surrounded by tall blue men. So you are still very distracted by your punch, while the man is looking at you with wide eyes. This had taken him by surprise, he just stayed still watching you settle in and moan. You look up, making eye contact with him. "And you don't plan to help?" you speak, sounding rather haughty, how could you be so spoiled if you didn't even know each other. Tsu'tey says nothing and continues to stare at you quietly. "Aren't you going to talk? Ashhh hey YOU BLUE MONKEY HELP ME GET UP, I CAN'T FEEL MY BUTT" You yell, making gestures with your hands. Tsu'tey was in a state of shock, he knew humans were nasty, but you were on another level. No one in his entire life had ever spoken to him like that.

"Did you just call me blue monkey?" tsu'tey repeats what you just said, making sure he heard right. "Yes…blue monkey, are you deaf? With those big ears I doubt it" you speak, as you get up from the ground. You looked sore, your legs were shaking, the fall had been very hard and high. So your body wobbles a little, just as you were about to fall back to the ground. You feel a big hand holding you by your forearm. Tsu'tey holds you in place, observing you and analyzing the figure in front of him. You were a woman, you seemed to be almost his age. But you did not look like the other women he had seen in the human camp. Your hair was messy, your clothes were light, revealing more skin. And you had a few scratches across your face and arms. Where had you gone? "My name is Tsu'tey…nice to meet you" speaks tsu'tey, he had manners..so he was going to introduce himself properly. You feel him slowly let go of you as you regain your balance. "mmm your name is ugly" you speak, looking at him again as you had a cheeky grin on your face.

"Have you no manners or what?" tsu'tey sounds annoyed, moving a little away from you. You laugh, you knew you were teasing him and you really didn't care. "Yes…yes I do. But it's boring" you speak, as you start looking for something on the floor. "My name is Y/N" you speak, ignoring as tsu'tey approaches you again. I was analyzing you carefully, I had never seen you before, and if you were one of those bad humans? They were all supposed to be gone, so who were you. Tsu'tey kneels down to get closer, while he sees you still looking for whatever it is on the ground. He was getting so close, he's barely 1 foot away from you. "could you give me space… you strange thing" you speak, nudging him by his shoulder causing tsu'tey to come down from the clouds. And he will be back to his senses. "Who are you? I have never seen you before?" he speaks, you turn to look at him. He had his face to one side and his ears twitched with curiosity.

"You're not one of the bad guys, are you?" you look at tsu'tey, and laugh out loud. This one looks somewhat confused, and waits for you to respond. "No silly…" you speak up, ignoring him again. "But I've never seen you in that thing that calls it a lab" tsu'tey had to know who you were.

"I am the systems manager…I am not a scientist" you speak. Tsu'tey only understands half of what you just said, so she waits for you to explain more clearly. "Systems?" tsu'tey asks.

"Yeah…systems, these things (you touch the oxygen mask) and computers. Nothing special, I'm just trapped on this planet" you speak, now looking at the man in front of you. "Trapped? You wanted to go back to your homeland?" tsu'tey looked like a little boy, he didn't know why he was so curious about you. You were a damn home destroying human, why did he have to ask you all these things.

You sit on the floor, exhausted. You couldn't find your monitor, your back hurt and you were tired. "I can't go back…so I stayed here" you say, while trying to give yourself a self-massage on your back. "You are bad…and that's why you can't go back?" tsu'tey now copies your previous movements and sits on the floor. A few feet away from you. " Well if stealing 3 Walmart gift cards is being bad..well yes" you speak up. … … … "What is Walm?" tsu'tey was about to start talking, but you make a signal for silence. "Forgotten… I don't say anything. I have no one to wait for me back on earth. So I decided to stay here to help the team" you speak. "But you don't like the na'vi?" speaks tsu'tey.

"My area is technology…not wildlife" you speak, tsu'tey stands up straight. Aouch that had hurt him. He can see that you are still in some discomfort, because you begin to make a few pained noises." And what were you doing up there?" asks tsu'tey, as he sees your eyes move upwards. "I wanted to look for a signal…I wanted to see some videos of me…of my brothers" you speak, he can notice the sadness in your voice. He had no idea what the 'videos' were but he guessed it was something important. "I'm sorry" tsu'tey says, causing you to look up and look into his eyes. You had very pretty eyes, he sees you chuckle a little. And you look down again, now looking at the ground.

There was something about you that attracted his attention, if he felt lost. You looked, and he could sense that you were lost. Like you weren't quite right, for some reason he was worrying about you. And only 15 minutes ago he had met you. The silence was noticeable, you both just lay there…keeping each other company. It wasn't until a seed from the spirit tree slowly approached your body. Tsu'tey noticed their presence and followed the seed with his eyes. Watching as the creature moved from side to side, slowly falling towards your bare knee. It stares at you as you look at it, somewhat surprised but calm. He was about to speak until …..

slaps

"Are you crazy?" shouts tsu'tey lifting your hand from the seed. You had crushed it, you almost broke it. "that was going to sting me!!!" you shout too, watching as he takes your hand and lifts it carefully. Watching as the seed floats back up and flies towards your nose. Tapping it, you bring your free hand to your nose to touch it. "What is that?" you are still surprised. You've never seen anything like this before…you never used to leave the areas you were allowed to. "It is a seed from the spirit tree…they are part of eywa" says tsu'tey seriously. You had heard something about this tree and this eywa. "And it was going to sting me? Those things itch" you begin to speak, tsu'tey still holding your hand. "It won't sting you…eywa doesn't hurt. She wants to communicate" says tsu'tey.

"Well I don't want anything from her…besides I think I was going to get itched" you speak, crossing your arms. Tsu'tey snorts a little, ahhh you were unbearable. "Well…help me get back to the human zone. I have no idea where I am" you speak. Tsu'tey takes a deep breath and gets up from the ground. "Come…I will guide you" he speaks. Watching as you quickly get up jumping up and down in happiness. But you stop, and hold your back. You seemed to be in pain. You both set off to where the village was, the human area was not far from the village. So the direction was the same. Tsu'tey couldn't help but notice how your posture changed every 2 minutes the more you kept walking. "Are you in pain?" speaks tsu'tey. "A little…well a lot" you speak while touching your back.

"I know someone who might be able to help with that. Sure, if you want?" tsu'tey gives you a look, hoping for an answer. He hears you sigh. "It's okay" you speak, you had no choice…in the lab there wasn't much equipment to soothe the pain you were feeling. And you had heard that Navi medicine was very good, so you accepted the help. It wasn't long before you arrived at the navi village, and as you entered you noticed how everyone started to look at you. You were not a familiar face, to be honest it was the first time you were in the village. You had never been there before.

You had come to pandora 2 years before the altercations, and you were from grace's technical support team. You were basically grace's baby, and she loved you so much. You became close friends with Jake and supported your team's cause. You had stayed at the base with max, providing support from the inside. When the humans were returned to earth, you stayed. You had no one to wait for you at home…you were alone. And now you only had your team left, because you had also lost grace. You were never interested in what the Navi were doing, you knew some things. But you weren't aware of everything, like max, norm and jake. But now…everything was new to you. You see how several Navi kids come up to you and touch your clothes. And they laugh. "Hello" you speak, in a low voice. As you followed the annoying navi man who was going to help you. "There it is" says tsu'tey. Pointing to a hut, you could see it was quite crowded.

You both approach the hut, and enter. It was dark, but cozy. And it had a great aroma of medicinal herbs. It wasn't annoying, it was calming. Mo'at looks up as she sees tsu'tey enter, she was going to greet him but is surprised to see who accompanied him. A human with tsu'tey? Something was going on. "Mo'at…we need your help" tsu'tey speaks. Making a sign to you to come closer, you had been standing in the door frame waiting. You were a little scared, everything was new to you. You approach, and feel tsu'tey's hand holding your head. "She fell out of a tree, now her back hurts a lot" says the man, moving you a little to get closer to the woman. You laugh widely, while mo'at grabs your arm to get closer to her. "And what were you doing in a tree….girl what's wrong with you" says mo'at turning you over to examine what you had, pulling up your shirt. "My whole back hurts" you speak, but let out a groan. When mo'at touches the large bruise on your back. "Here it is…look" mo'at says, as you watch tsu'tey reach over to look at your back.

You move and pull down your shirt. "You pervert!!!" you yell a little, mo'at had pulled your shirt way up. You were dying of embarrassment and now he was going to see you up close. Or not…not that. "What's wrong with you…come HERE" mo'at says, grabbing your arm making you sit up. You were small, so it was easy to handle you. Tsu'tey sits in one of the corners of the hut, watching mo'at heal you and take care of you. He laughs a little, watching you fidget and complain about everything. He even watches as mo'at taps you on the head. You were chaos, but chaos that captivated him. After a while, mo'at ordered you to lie down, on one of the mats she had. You had to wait for the paste to dry, plus it wouldn't hurt to relax a little. So she lays you on your stomach, and you close your eyes.

Mo'at approaches tsu'tey, who is still staring at everything with fascination. "That girl…that's a mess" says mo'at in a mocking tone. "eywa…she touched that girl" says tsu'tey while still looking at your figure. Mo'at falls down for a moment, and turns to talk to the boy. "I know…I could feel it. And it has to do with you" says the woman, tsu'tey looks at mo'at in surprise. "With me?" asks tsu'tey, what did he have to do with you, he was just helping you. "mmmm yes….eywa gave you what you were asking for, that's what I could interpret" says mo'at, as he sees tsu'tey's eyes widen. "What's wrong with you?" mo'at is getting worried, tsu'tey was in a state of shock. What did mo'at just say? Eywa sent him…no no no no.

"Mo'at…I asked for a mate" says tsu'tey. Mo'at is surprised and gives him a look at the lying figure of Y/N. "I don't know what to tell you son…I don't know" mo'at doesn't know what to tell him or do, this is very strange. Even for her.

Night came quickly, and tsu'tey decided to stay and watch over you. He could not ignore what mo'at had told him. How could it be possible? Was it possible? He sees you start to get up, sitting up a little on the mat. You were going to touch your eyes, but you bump into the oxygen mask. "shit" you speak softly, as you listen and watch as tsu'tey sits down next to you. "That word I've heard so much these past few years" tsu'tey says in a mocking tone of voice. You roll your eyes, and decide to ignore him. "Feeling better?" asks the man, you turn so you can answer. And you can see how he was sitting. His feet were crossed, his hands were holding his feet nervously, and his tail was wagging from side to side. He looked adorable. "Yes…thank you" you speak, shifting your gaze quickly.

There was a small silence, until he began to speak. "Mo'at… she told me that the seeds of the spititus tree had chosen you" Tsutey says.

"To sting me? Yes" you speak, Tsu'tey sighs, laughs a little. "No…she chose you to" tsu'tey pauses, waiting for you to make a move. He can see, as you look at him slowly. "For what?" you ask. He takes your hand, and gives it a squeeze. You stiffen slightly, and look straight into his eyes. They were bright yellow. "For me." You move your hand, so that tsu'tey releases it. And you move away a little, moving hurts your back a little. So you stop, and tsu'tey tries to help me. "Easy…I" tsu'tey starts to speak, but he feels you push him away. "Don't touch me…you weird blue monkey" you yell a little.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you" tsu'tey says, moving a little away from you. Leaving you more room. He wasn't going to give up. Tsu'tey knew that eywa had chosen you for a reason, maybe you were the one who was going to help him find your ideal mate. "Yes…well you did, you idiot. And if you touch me again I'm going to poke your eye out with my own teeth" you threaten him a little, lying on your side with your back to him. He laughs a little, maybe it was you he had to find.

[gabessquishytum]

So A/B/O, Dream (an omega) is forced into a marriage with Hob (an alpha) for a company merger, and save the Honeymoon where they consummated the marriage, they have a dead bedroom. Dream tries to convince Hob to open up the marriage so Hob can see other people, but they're high socity, so if Hob is seen with other Omegas, the press would have a field day. So they barely speak, and Dream is constantly wollowing in self pity that he's trapped in a marriage to a man he barely knows. It isn't until about 2 months in, Dream relizes he hasn't had his heat in a while and imdeatly takes a test. It's positive. Before Dream can even ask Hob how he feels, Hob goes into protective mode. That's his baby Dream is carrying after all, and there for Dream needs to be protected. Hob makes sure dream has lots of vitamin k, takes walks daily, gets plenty to eat. And Dream can't help but shiver at the way Hob puts a protective arm around Dream anytime the wind changes directions. He spends more time with Hob, willingly, starts talking with him, even flirts. By the time Dream starts showing, Hob and him are all over each other.

Ooo yes!! I definitely think that neither Dream nor Hob would initially react well to a marriage of convenience. Dream is deep down far too romantic to feel comfortable in a marriage to an almost stranger. And Hob is too jaded and cynical at this point to even try.

So they have separate bedrooms, and hardly even see each other because they're both busy working. Dream considers starting an affair behind Hob’s back but it isn't worth the risk, and it's not like it he has a lot of time for that anyway. Plus he's been feeling pretty under the weather...

If Dream assumed that Hob would be annoyed by the news of his pregnancy, he's so wrong. Hob smiles more than Dream has seen, and he quickly hugs Dream and starts scenting him - all stuff that he's never done before. Alpha pheromones are very important for a healthy omega pregnancy and Hob immediately starts rubbing his scent onto Dream’s skin - he's already 8 weeks along so Hob needs to make up for lost time, apparently.

Suddenly Dream is sleeping in Hob’s bed every night, and waking up to breakfast - he's convinced that Hob would feed him 24/7 if he could, he's so insistent that Dream should keep his strength up and not let the pregnancy negatively impact his health. He's not just concerned for the baby, he's really thinking about Dream’s health all the time. Like it matters to him. He won't let Dream do a thing for himself and he spends hours with Dream in his lap, exposing him to those good alpha pheromones.

They talk, first about work and family, then more about themselves. Hob talks about why he was so reluctant to even get to know Dream - he's scared of losing the people he loves, so he shut himself off. But he's over that now. Dream and the baby are more important than his fears or anxieties.

Around the end of the third month, they start fooling around. Making out and heavy petting at first. Dream is having headaches, and feels too gross to have anything inside him. But he loves Hob’s kisses, and the gentle attention to his growing belly and breasts. When the headaches finally go away and Dream feels in the mood again, he and Hob both last approximately 30 seconds before the both cum. They're so pent up (and Hob is knee deep in a pregnancy kink that he never knew that he had).

Everyone who expected the marriage to capitulate gets a big surprise when Dream and Hob throw a party for their 6 months anniversary (which also serves as a kind of baby shower type thing for Dream). Dream spends the whole afternoon regally perched in Hob’s lap being fed the choicest morsels from the buffet while Hob gazes at him like he hung the moon.

Honestly, everyone wishes they'd go back to barely speaking. The PDA is getting out of hand! Thank goodness Dream is already pregnant because the way Hob looks at him now? He'd be knocked up all over again.

[my-unorthodox-life]

okay can i vent for a minute? get real personal with all y'all?

i've been a tumblr user since i got my first tablet at age 12, over a decade of having at least one active blog (usually more) so it's safe to say i've both gotten my fair share of hate and found ways of using this app to benefit me and keep me detached from this hate

currently i have 4 active blogs, my main where i do the typical reblogging and updates on my fanfics, this one where i post like a proper blog and reblog jewish things that matter to me, my mental health recovery blog where i talk about my eating disorder and ptsd, and my adult one where i reblog fun sexy stuff and chat about the struggles of dating as sex positive people with trauma.

all very important to me and all have various levels of anonymity when it comes to knowing about me as a person. some have my name, some a nickname, one just my age. plus various tidbits so people know what to expect from my posts and what we can chat about, basic blog rules essentially

in the past few months as antisemitism has gotten more and more common place i of course get more anon hate, i don't turn of inboxes since i do get nice stuff from time to time, and that's kind of the territory of running a blog (i had a trans rights one in the age of kalvin garrah, i think i'll live)

out of those four blogs the one that gets the most antisemitic messages, i mean full paragraphs of truly vile ramblings that read like a nazi fever dream, is the one for my mental health recovery. a blog that i block all but mutuals on, meaning either a stranger or someone i've interacted with is sending these messages

i've started replying to them, cause i feel if they want to be mean and make a fool of themselves i might as well let everyone see (poor guy keeps sending me weird reviews of "my" wattpad fics. i've never had a wattpad account but this doesn't seem to stop him), but what gets me is that blog has the least personal information on it. no name or nickname, no hobbies or interests listed, nothing about what i do for work beyond "pet care", and the only mention of my religion or politics was one post that joking about how my mental health often gets worse around the high holy days (very demure, very mindful)

and yet that's the blog that gets straight up death threats, not even disguised as anything else, just straight up calling me a pig who deserves to burn. not the personal blog where i've posted about israel and palestine, or about dating while religious, or hell even this one that might as well be a "i'm a sensitive jewish minded person! thoughts?" blog.

no the one blog that people feel safe harassing is the nondescript recovery and relapse blog. that's where people feel comfortable.

and it makes me sad, not because of what was said, but because it *was* said. that there's people out there comfortable enough in their bigotry to go up to someone and spew vile hate like it's nothing, but only of course if they can't put a name or face to the person they're talking to

what this reminds me of is when i was in high school i had an art teacher who didn't stand for antisemitic jokes, and there were a lot in my school. one day a kid just asked him "Mr.Dexter, are you a jew?" and his response really stuck with me. he said "It doesn't matter, maybe I am, maybe I used to be, maybe my wife is. But you shouldn't not say mean things just because you don't want to get in trouble, you shouldn't say them because you know it's wrong. If you didn't know, you wouldn't ask."

and i think that really sums up all these trolls i've seen running through jewish blogs or even ones that casually mention it, they know it's wrong but the aren't saying it to a jewish face, they're just saying it to the idea of judaism

these people wouldn't walk up to you on the street and look you up and down and say half of what they feel comfortable typing, but here where they can not only hide their face, but seek out a target that has hidden their own they've found a way to give themselves free reign to say and do whatever they want. to them it's not a person on the other side of the screen, it's the strawman caricature of a jewish person, out here just for them to yell at to get whatever anger they have out of their system

of course there are some people who would say truly despicable things to a random person on the street, but cmon is that person really on tumblr hunting through buzz words to send hate?

anyways i know the compassionate thing to do would be to pray for them to heal what's hurting them so bad, but yanno what, they can suffer a bit first

[caffeinatedattorney]

Gilda doesn't get the chance to go out often and have fun at the same time.

Her costume sucks, no doubt about it. It's the sort of thing you put together on a rush so you don't just go on your everyday clothes to your friend's costume party, though, she kind of wishes she had something less shitty that made her unrecognizable, rather than an unfun version of herself. She dressed like Dorothy... or at least she's meant to be. Her dress isn't frilly enough to resemble it and her hair is doesnt look right for pigtails. She probably ressembles an used old barbie doll instead.

She nurses her drink. A mojito because she couldn't think of anything better and motivate herself to pay for it. It eases the headache of the festivities.

This is their day, isn't it?

She manages to find fresh air, walking out of the building where people who want to talk stay. Gilda isn't sure what she wants right now, to be fair.

All she feels is... grief.

This is her fifth halloween without Harvey Dent. Her friends knew she would need emotional support and in fact, attending the party had been Gilda's idea, just to shake things up in terms of distractions.

As she takes another sip of her drink, she hears someone behind her say 'Nice Two Face costume bro!' She rolls her eyes. Sadly, this isn't the first time someone has tried to make a joke about--

"Ma'am"

It's Harvey's voice, rough but his. Gilda turns around and she knows him enough to know he's not trying to be dressed as anything. He is just Two Face. Then again, maybe he believes he is already in costume and his life is a joke. Hilarious.

That said, Gilda finds herself tearing up.

"How are you, Harvey?" Gilda asks quietly, not fully facing him. It seemed like yesterday when she and Harvey attended a party as humpty and dumpty. Harvey always had a fascination with the atmosphere of the holiday, even when he didn't have a chance to celebrate and all days blurred into endless stressful work.

Harvey keeps his distance, she isn't sure if it's for her sake or his. "You look beautiful."

Gilda laughs, she wonders what motivated him to come, or how he found her. "I look terrible."

Harvey offers his hand quietly. He seems at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing without an utterance. The song changes to something slow and something in him shifts.

After a while, he says, "...May I have this dance?"

She wonders if it was part of his plan. She can't keep herself from uttering what she always wanted to express now that she has the chance, right before taking it. "You know i'll always love you, right?"

Harvey gives her a look, apologetic. He squeezes her hand. "Not the entirety of us."

Gilda raises an eyebrow as she guides Harvey inside to the dance floor. "Do I?"

It makes them visibly back off. Ah, so it's Harv. Harv squeezes her hand apologetically. "He said he's sorry."

Before they know it, they're on the dance floor, blending in with the guests. "He's tired," Harv whispers as they start to sway to the music.

After a while, long enough for Gilda to lose herself in the motions despite the grief, he says: "He taught me how you two dance," then he gives her a tight smile, crooked and different. "I'll be tonight's consolation prize."

Gilda feels relieved. On one hand this isn't some self loathing-fueled crusade to show Harvey hasn't forgotten about her. That said, she knows how... Harv and Harvey work and how there's no exact time frame Harvey will resurface. Harv should give himself a little credit. In a way, she's being comforted by Harv's hands. He's a familiar stranger.

She grins. "You are doing great. It took Harvey years to learn not to step on my feet."

Harv laughs, like a warm smoky cackle. "He's a dumbass."

Gilda twirls in Harv's hands. "... And you are not a consolation prize."

He hums, piercing gaze warm and voice crackly like wood, as they go back to their dancing. "You don't mind me?"

"I don't think we ever talked, and if you need a place to stay--"

Harv stops, he stares at Gilda for a few seconds. He doesn't try to convince her to drop the idea or starts arguing why he doesn't deserve it. In a way, she expects Harv to have his guns on him, ready to shoot anyone who tries Two Face. Ready to protect her.

Instead, Harv smirks. "Lead the way."

One message and two black and white monster movies later, Harv and Gilda have fallen asleep on the couch together. Gilda has changed into her pajamas and Harv into Harvey's old pajamas with the ugliest sweater he could find in Harvey's wardrobe. He loves it, by the way, because it is now his.

[pinky-promis3s]

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Scars That Heal

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Pairing: Colby Brock x F.Reader

Warnings: mentions of self harm, self harm scars, angst turned fluff

Note: This was written in a way for people to help heal, if you believe this will affect you for the worse rather than the better, please skip this fic and find something else. Take care of yourself <3

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It felt rubber clinging to your body, rubbing uncomfortably against the skin with the pitiful attempt to smooth out the fabric to make it look less wrinkly and remove the dust from the amount of time the bathing suit spent in the drawer. It was odd, living in a house with such a big pool and where parties were almost daily, you would think that you would be swimming laps almost everyday and while you thought the idea was pleasing, one thing stopped you, the dark secret.

You still remembered the look on your boyfriend Colby's face when you first showed him and explained why you did it all in the first place. Of course, you didn't try to guilt him with it, more just explain why you were the way you were. And you fully expected him to just walk away and never talk to you again but it was the opposite, he just held you and nodded. Not a word was said and you thanked him for that, it made you feel comfortable to not have to cover up in front of him anymore.

But that was only Colby, only Colby knew of the little white lines that littered your forearms and thighs. The reasons that you stuck to long sleeves and never wore shorts, even in the hot temperatures that came with living in LA.

Usually if the boys were hosting a sort of pool party, you were lucky enough to make the excuse of being on your period and you were believed, there was no needing to panic about them trying to pull you into the pool and having to hide the scars that would follow with so many questions and stares. But you couldn't use that excuse this week, just a week ago you had used that excuse for one of the pool parties the boys were pulling and they're hosting another one this week; your period excuse didn't work.

You would just skip out on this party but you knew how much this would matter to Sam, it was his birthday party for crying out. And Colby had asked you to at least try to show up, even if it was only for five minutes, it mattered to him. You didn't want to disappoint your best friend and boyfriend so now you stood in front of the mirror, memories of younger teenage years returning like a terrible flood that you were struggling to hold your nose above, gasping for air that never came to your struggling lungs.

A knock at the door had startled you out of your thoughts as you stopped your fingertips movements on the tiny lines and turned your attention to the door. Colby stood there, leaning against the door way. He was without his shirt, only in his bathing shorts and hair slightly messed from being in the water. Drops of water ran from his strands of hair, dropping to his face or chest and streamed down slowly.

"Are you coming? Sam has been looking for you," Colby asked, hand still on the doorknob and his eyes scanned your figure in the bathing suit. "You look beautiful," he commented, reaching his hand out to you as you just shook your head, looking back at the mirror and the little white scars that revealed themselves in the open air; no sleeves to hide behind.

Downstairs you could already hear the music booming and the shouts/laughter of all the guests, most being other influencers that had some kind of connection to Sam. Complete strangers for you and the thought of being so open and exposed to people who didn't even know about your past seemed to be a chilling thought.

You reached for one of Colby's hoodies on the bed and started to shuffle through the laundry on the floor for a pair of pants to match, "I've changed my mind." You replied, the sound of Colby's exhausted sigh falling deaf on your ears.

Before you could pull the hoodie over your head, Colby had been in front of you and had hands on your wrists, stopping your movements, "you don't have to cover them you know?"

"They're gross..." you mumbled, eyes glued to the floor and the want to just shove the hoodie over your head corrupting.

Holding your wrists, Colby raised them to your view and let you look at the scarred flesh. Your breath hitched in your throat as you gazed down at the scars, memories and regrets flooded and you fought back the tears. Colby shook his head, "you're beautiful, scars and all. Nothing about you or these scars or anything that comes to your mind makes you gross."

You looked at him, disbelief in your eyes.

"And if my friends don't agree with me well guess what, they weren't my friend to begin with," Colby smiled warmly at you, god damn him for his smile being so contagious because you soon found yourself smiling back up at him, the hoodie you were holding slipping from your grasp.

"But I'll feel uncomfortable," you said bashfully, removing your arms from his grip and tucking them behind your back, out of view, "I don't want the stares, questions."

"No one will stare," Colby smiled, his fingers grazing under your chin and making you look back at him, "promise. And if someone does, come to me and I'll take care of it. Now please just come downstairs and have a good time, ignore the bad thoughts and let go. Besides, I don't think Sam will let you avoid him on his birthday; he's been asking to hang out with you since the party started."

With a hesitant breath, you nodded your head and tucked your hand into Colby's, enjoying how his fingers felt overlapping yours and the comfort it brought just from the touch. Leaving the safety of your shared bedroom, you soon started to feel the nervousness and worry the closer you two got to outside where the party was happening and where a bunch of strangers either could be staring at you or completely ignoring you.

When the backdoor opened, you quickly saw the blonde man's face light up and run over to you and Colby. Practically in a bone crushing hug, you exchanged the hug back with your best friend and apologized for taking so long; making a lame excuse of that you fell asleep.

"Oh sleep is more important than your best friend's birthday," he crossed his arms childishly, pouting in the way a toddler would as his blonde hair went over his eyes and he shook his head disapprovingly.

Colby laughed at Sam's reaction, "not all of us are early birds Sammy."

"It's eight at night.."

The rest of the party had went by smoothly and you had a better time than you would have imagined. You spent a lot of it sitting on the edge of the pool with Katrina and Tara. Sam had found the volleyball would responded with pool volleyball; you, Colby, and Jake on one team, Sam, Katrina, and Corey on the other. You hesitated at first to join, playing volleyball would result in lifting your arms and exposing the scars you spent so long hiding. But Colby only gave you a grateful smile, and you had decided to join the game.

You had stopped paying attention to the scars that you had tried to hide and didn’t even realize they were on display all night. Even with the occasional too long look for your own comfort from some people when you would get out of the pool or going to reach for something, you still managed to have a good night and there wasn't any questions; no why's, no when's, nothing.

Sam's party had started to slow down, people were drunk and getting ready to head home; calling rides and saying their goodbyes. At the kitchen counter, you sat with a bottle of beer in your palms and Colby no where in sight. As you drank your beer, you looked down at the scars and a small smile came to your face, maybe they weren't such a bad thing to be hiding.

Footsteps entered the kitchen and you looked up to see Sam with a towel on his shoulder and dressed back in a loose grey shirt and his swim trunks. He smiled warmly at you, "thought you might want one of these." He tossed the towel to you, thanking him gratefully as you started to dry your hair. He was basically your brother Sam, you knew him the best of the entire crew having known him the longest and he was the one to introduce you to Colby in the first place back in junior year band.

"Thanks Sammy," that was another perk of being so close to Sam, you were one of the only people beside Katrina who got to call him that without the annoyed whine coming from his mouth. Putting down the towel, you looked at him curiously when he seemed to be thinking on what to say, "you good?"

Sam nodded, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he seemed to think on how to word something, your anxiety started to increase. Sam pointed to your forearm, "the scars, I kept noticing them.." A chill met your spine as you looked down at the white lines, some long, some short, some jagged, some straight. You had only ever showed Colby, not even Sam had known, "please tell me if I'm going too far but.." he paused, leaning against eh counter, "you've stopped right?"

You nodded, a sense of shame tickling the skin that was scarred. You looked up at Sam, who's eyes wouldn't leave your forearms, "last time was two years ago. Colby has helped me stay clean." You paused, memories if the nights with the razor coming back like they were yesterday, "I guess not all wounds heal."

Sam gave a smile, "you're strong, you always were."

You thanked your best friend, wrapping him in a sort of half hug. You enjoyed Sam's company, almost as much as you enjoyed Colby's and to know that you had such a strong friendship and support network, it made the healing a little more easier.

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Thank you for reading <3

Taglist:

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[silencingspellsongs]

fuck it, caller time

aka i'm gonna ramble out ideas i've had of future audios i want from him and ppl can take them as writing prompts if they want or we can all work together to beam them psychically into erik's brain over the next 6 months

minors don't interact i get spicy in here oop 🔞 also tw dub-con content in here but if you're into the yandere caller character i feel like you can kind of expect that ‼️

i was originally planning on writing a fic with all these ideas in it but i don't have the time or the spoons for that and so instead of just rotating them in my mind forever and driving myself slowly insane i thought i would just throw them out into the ether because maybe they'll inspire someone else or make someone else insane too teehee 🤭

• sweetie gets home from a long day at work, they're exhausted. they don't have the energy to fuck with making dinner, maybe this is part of a pattern for them where they often neglect themself because they're too tired/it's easier to just go lay down and forget about responsibilities (is this me just working through my own mental health things? yes. yes it is.)

they're curled up on the couch and then there's a knock at the door or their doorbell rings. they get up and answer it and there's a pizza delivery Guy there who seems pretty unfazed by the confused look on their face. he's got an order for them, their usual order in fact, but they tell him they didn't order anything. he pulls out the receipt and double checks the address, tells them it was already paid for and everything. then he notices there's a note in the instructions on the receipt which he reads out to them. "it says 'for my sweetie, you had a long day, eat and get comfortable. i'll call you soon. xoxo"

oblivious to the way sweetie's entire body freezes up, Guy goes on to say something about how nice it is that they have such a caring partner, hands over their order and then leaves. sweetie's phone then starts to ring. they know better than to ignore it and when they answer, caller praises them. tells them to enjoy the food, talks to them about how it's a good thing he's here to take care of them. mentions how watching them neglect their own needs frustrates him but that's why he's here now.

i would imagine that this would maybe start out with that creep feeling of anxiety that his audios give but it does end up mellowing into something of a soothing stress relief type scenario. caller walking sweetie through some self care ideas: making sure they eat up, take a hot shower or a relaxing bubble bath afterwards, maybe they could even use a massage (here's where some spicy references would get thrown in, we all know this guy loses his mind thinking about touching sweetie 🥴) laid out on their bed, body still warm and damp from the water... smelling like their soap, his favorite smell now because it reminds him of them. his hands tracing over their back. firm but warm, digging into the knots in their shoulders. running over every inch of them... exploring, memorizing, claiming. he gets all breathy in that way of his but like always he backs it up. not yet, not tonight.

in the end they're left with the instructions of how to take care of themself the rest of the night and the promise that he's always here to make sure they do it. lots more creepy praise before the call ends.

• i need JEALOUSY. i need possessive, feral, pissed off jealous caller. i need that sort of shit that would make the people that complain about David's jealousy audio's heads explode. i need it to be mean and messy and ANGRY and growly and scary and i need it like oxygen in my lungs.

it could be someone from work, or maybe a neighbor in their apt complex, or maybe it's just some stranger at the grocery store. someone's caught sight of sweetie and is shooting their shot. i think for this scenario, the way i imagine it as an audio, sweetie would be on the phone with said person. some guy is talking them up over the phone, really laying it on thick but not super directly asking them out just yet. moreso laying the ground work for it but it's still pretty obvious he's looking to get into their pants but sweetie is... well sweetie's maybe a little oblivious or maybe they just don't have the self confidence to believe that this guy's actually into them. (we've gotten the idea from the other caller audios that sweetie definitely doesn't think highly of themself so that's where this characterization is coming from btw)

whatever the situation, the sound of another incoming call beeps over the phone (do cell phones even do that anymore? i don't ever call people so i don't know but it's fantasy ok we can just pretend ❤️) and sweetie knows what that "unknown caller" flashing on their screen means. they try to end the conversation with flirty guy but he doesn't take the hint, tries to keep them on the line. sweetie's too much of a pushover to just hang up on someone so they keep trying to walk this conversation to an end point and the call waiting beeping stops when they don't pick up.

big mistake.

and they know it's a big mistake when the call waiting beeping starts up again. and here's where some of the more strange caller audio things can start happening. we still don't know just what this guy is, stealth? demon? offshoot of echo? not sure exactly what kind of supernatural stuff is in his wheelhouse but dealer's choice on what starts to happen when he calls the second time. maybe the call with the flirty guy starts to break up, or hangs up all on its own. maybe sweetie starts to hear the thumps around their house again. whatever it is, it's obvious that the caller wants them to answer him.

sweetie finally picks up the call and oh boy. oh baby. ooooh it's not very nice. caller is furious. in the beginning it would seem that he's pissed at sweetie and they would react accordingly, being afraid of him as they still must be (even if by this point they started to mellow on him like he talks about wanting, how over time they would get used to him and not be so scared.) his tone is sharp and you can almost feel the anger radiating off him just through the sound of his voice when he tells sweetie to get on their bed. now.

caller is like barely holding it together but it quickly becomes obvious that his anger isn't directed at sweetie, he's ranting about the audacity of the other guy for thinking he could take them away from him. this could get many levels of unhinged, talking about hurting the other guy, talking about locking sweetie up away from anyone else who thinks they can have them, just basically all the most delicious yandere freak shit imaginable.

if my prayers were to come true, this scenario would be a spicy one. caller wanting to prove to sweetie that they belong to him. possessive, growly, jealous over-the-phone joi bonus audio. talks of marking them. claiming them. owning them. it's overwhelming but caller is never like explicitly pissed off at sweetie, mostly pissed they didn't just hang up on that other guy. caller is heavy on the praise as he watches them. yeah, this would probably be in the dub-con category given the relationship between caller and sweetie and i understand not everyone is down for that but also it's kind of baked into these two at the core and well ivan's whole thing was dub-con as hell and he got a bonus audio soooo don't like/don't interact and all that jazz.

anyways this ends with caller demanding sweetie to block that guy's number lol

• ok last one i have fleshed out is another kind of idk if nicer is the right word for it considering caller's whole thing but yeah ok it's like a nicer/softer one. something like the first scenario i had where it's moreso to help get sweetie comfortable with the caller, like he wants.

sweetie's asleep. having a nightmare. are we at all surprised if i say they're having a nightmare about the caller? not to keep harping back to ivan (i can't help it, i'm a yandere enjoyer and ivan scratched that itch so right, rip king i know you aren't dead but you're not possessed by a sadism demon anymore so it's basically the same thing 💔) but the vibes are similar to baby 2.0 having ivan nightmares. those sequences were always so good ugh i loved them.

anyways sweetie is having a Bad Time™, hell maybe the nightmare itself isn't centered around caller but maybe in the dream caller is acting as a savior to something else that's scaring them and that fact itself is a little terrifying to them. that's almost juicier, your tormentor becoming your salvation? mmmm

whatever the case, sweetie is pulled from the nightmare by a noise that wakes them up. big surprise, it's their phone ringing at god-only-knows o'clock in the still dark morning. and who else would it be but the person from their dream: their unknown caller.

he's... softer than normal. maybe his own voice has that sleep-gruff quality to it. he tells sweetie that they were thrashing around, must have been a nightmare. he didn't like seeing them distressed. he soothes them a bit, tells them to relax back into bed. maybe there's a glass of water on their bedside table that wasn't there when they first went to bed, ice still floating in it as if it was freshly placed before they woke up.

he talks for a while, letting the sound of his voice help them relax. at some point he asks what their nightmare was about. sweetie tries to deflect, or tries to lie about it hut his voice gets hard for a moment. reminds them of the rules. no lying. they relent and tell caller about it. if it was the dream where something else terrible was happening but caller saved them from it, he would be happy about that. he'd ask them why that made them upset. he's told them before, he'a here to make things better. he's going to fix things for them. sweetie's dream is proof of that, that they're starting to see him in that way.

this would definitely be a sleep aid type scenario. caller talking sweetie back to sleep. i can almost imagine it having that effect like in the first audio where the audio of the call itself has primarily been coming from one side, like if you were talking over the phone. at some point during this, sweetie has rolled over and the phone's pressed between their head and the pillow. their eyes are closed as they start to fall back asleep. then there's that sound of the breathing from the other side, not the huffing ragged breath designed for the creep factor in the first audio but a softer breathing. like sleeping next to a lover. and sweetie falls asleep.

haha ok anyways that was.... A Lot of typing 😅 like i said these are some scenario ideas i've had swimming around in my head over the last 6 months of relistening to the caller's first audio a frankly obscene and concerning amount of times. these ideas are open for anyone who wants to use them as inspiration or prompts, or for building off of in my DMs to make me short circuit lmao whatever tickles your fancy.

all i ask is that if these do inspire something in a fic writer out there that wants to write them, please please pleaaaase tag me so i can read it and go feral about it 🤪

also please other caller enjoyers talk to me this man is in my walls he's haunting me i need solidarity to survive the drought of however long it'll take for us to hear from him again 🥺🥺

[sweetkpopmusings]

jeonghan best friend headcanons <3

a/n: posting this for the lovely anon who requested it ! <3 jeonghan is a libra icon and my best friend's contact photo in my phone is a silly photo of jeonghan like i love him sm actually <333

content: fluff | wc: 0.8k | warnings: none! | pairing: bestfriend!jeonghan x gn!reader | requests: open

he is SUCH a caring best friend

he's so observant with the people he is closest to, which means you can't get away with anything when it comes to jeonghan

he probably knows you're getting sick before you do. he can just tell your sneeze is different and he's making you tea and nagging you about how to avoid getting ill

and you're like bro ?? i just sneezed ??

but a few days later you're down with a cold and he's gloating about the fact he knew you were getting sick like he's being so annoying about it because he's so competitive <3

don't worry he's also dropping off a care package so you can get well soon!!

he jokes that he won't come near you because he doesn't want to catch the plague but in reality he'll come inside and make sure you have enough food, water, blankets, etc.

he also knows when you're overworked/stressed/exhausted before most other people see the signs

so he'll check in on you a lil more frequently but he won't push it until you are ready to open up about it

while he wants to give tons of advice to help you, whenever you vent to him, he just listens very intently and comforts you and validates all your feelings and will only offer his insight when you ask/have finished expressing your thoughts

you get to hear ALL of his laughs. i mean ALL of them!!!

sometimes you're just standing in line getting coffee and he starts laughing because you made a funny face at a weird thing a stranger said

now what that stranger said has become an inside joke and you two will say it to each other every once in a while for a good laugh

you have a lot of lil inside jokes/phrases/sounds/hand gestures that you do together

sometimes they're so strange it's concerning to outsiders but everyone who knows you and jeonghan knows that it's just your special little language :,-)

he has a dumb nickname for you that he uses in every way possible. tbh sometimes you wonder if he even remembers your name because you never hear him say it, he always addresses cards to your nickname, etc

but if someone else uses that dumb nickname ??? jeonghan is immediately >:-( because that's HIS nickname for HIS best friend

it's like a prideful thing that he gets to call you that lol

when you give him a dumb nickname, he laughs so hard the first time you use it that you're worried you broke his brain

he giggles at it every time you say it for about 6 months because it's so funny to him and he thinks you're adorable :,-)

i think he's the type of best friend that wants to know all about your family (whether biological or chosen) and friends

like he's always asking you how so-and-so is doing, did your cousin get that job they wanted, and how was your coworker's dog's birthday

sometimes it's shocking that he remembers so much about people in your life that he's never met but he's genuinely interested because they matter to you! and he's a big fan of you spilling the tea lmfao

he also loves sharing that kind of info with you about his family and friends so you just walk around with a wealth of knowledge on jeonghan's sister's friendgroup drama you and jeonghan gossip about it regularly

big fan of self-care nights!

when he wants to hang out, it pretty much means he wants to sit around, eat food, do face masks, and watch funny videos together

depending on his mood it's either a night filled with chitchat or a night filled with comfortable silence but either way it's some of the most fun you've ever had

he also loves playing games with you

and he cheats every time <3 if you win when he cheats he'll be so proud <3 and brag about it to his members <3

he also definitely teaches you how to cheat so whenever you two are playing games with other friends you can team up and unleash absolute chaos

seventeen complains about there being two jeonghans whenever you're around

and jeonghan's always like "yeah and???" and seungkwan's across the room glaring at you ready to give a big speech on integrity he's just mad because y'all pranked him the day before and dino got video of him looking shocked and embarrassed

it's always fun to watch you two together because after becoming so close you share a braincell and it's so endearing to witness two besties being besties

at the core of it, jeonghan is a super solid best friend who values you and all the wonderful things you bring to the friendship and his life

sometimes jeonghan's babying you. most other times he's being a demon. through it all, he's always showing you how much he loves you and cherishes you <3

i would like to put in a request for one jeonghan thank you very much !

[ruvviks]

🍂🍁🌳 for Juniper please!

d&d oc asks!

🍂 Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with recieving affection from others?

juniper loves to hug :] she loves being physically close with people in general and especially her friends, as a sign that she trusts them a lot. she + @mojaves' oc mairwen are especially close and they always walk next to each other, either holding hands or having their arms hooked together; though the more time they spend with the rest of the party, they'll both also end up walking with others on occasion, and especially juniper loves to hold on to erytheia's or andy's oc caius' arm when they're out for a walk :]

she enjoys physical contact from her friends a lot because to her, it means that they trust her too. she also doesn't mind it when strangers get close to her, though it will be easy to tell that she's wary of them; and she's more than ready to shove a knife between their ribs the moment they try something she doesn't appreciate

as stated above, juniper mainly shows love through physical contact, but she likes doing things for other people too to make them feel loved. a very clear example of this would be with andy's oc bela, who needs a daily intake of blood as a dhampir; juniper eventually starts collecting blood samples of various animals in vials, in case bela can't get a kill in himself that day, to make sure that he doesn't miss a day and thus won't risk going feral

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

answered here!

🌳 What is your OC’s favourite way to relax after a stressful day? Do they have a favourite book to curl up with? A hobby? Or do they have a nice bubble bath and have an early night to bed?

juniper keeps a journal!! she loves writing in great detail about what she did that day and especially if the party learned something new about the various trails they're chasing she's writing entire reports in that thing with little drawings of found evidence or little maps of locations they went to. it's a way to get all the knowledge out of her brain so she doesn't have to remember every single little detail herself, and in a way it kind of clears her mind which is exactly what she needs in order to not get overwhelmed ^_^