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#anyway have some doodles of my big boy
timeworncalamity · 1 year
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Pretty boy Isca
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reineydraws · 1 year
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so there's this post that talks about how people call jason's curved knife a kris but it's not a kris 'cuz why would he have a southeast asian knife? and op's tags say if you're gonna give him an 'exotic' weapon at least make him malay or something. a later reblog adds a filipino kris as an example, and then i was like, 'omg, jason in a barong tho.' SO i tried designing a bat-barong inspired by his hood logo, for a filipino jason haha. and now here we are! 😊✨️🇵🇭
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g1rld1ary · 15 days
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the way i see you ; remus lupin x reader
➻ synopsis: you're an artist, but you never let any of your friends see your work. they finally attend one of your exhibits and see your feelings on paper
➻ word count: 4346
➻ content: swearing, allusions to sex, gryffindor reader but literally mentioned once, no pronouns but implied to be fem reader, kissing, no war AU!!
➻ the remus brainrot is strong rn
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You were an artist, you had been the whole time the boys knew you. Even in first year as a shy eleven year old, you were always scribbling away in a little sketchbook that lived in the big pockets of your robes. The hobby only developed as you got older, expanding mediums and filling countless sketchbooks. When you weren’t studying (or even when you were supposed to be) it was almost a given that you’d be working on a piece somewhere, far from the prying eyes of others.
Your friends caught glances of your art sometimes, doodles on the corner of your essays or notes, maybe a stray page left out in your dorm which told them you were good, but you never ever willingly let them see it. They didn’t know why, truthfully, you didn’t know either, but it had always been that way and everyone had more or less accepted that.
“Have you ever drawn me?” Sirius asked one afternoon as you all sat out by the Black Lake, cocky grin on his face.
“’Course,” You answered simply, moving to turn back to your conversation with Remus.
“Wait, really?”
“Well you have to have drawn me then, right? Can’t just be Padfoot!” James cut in quickly, making you laugh, nodding.
“Before everyone starts asking, lets just establish that I’ve drawn all of you at some point, okay?” You thought that would calm them down, but it only riled them up further, much to your chagrin.
“And you haven’t shown us?” Marlene cried dramatically.
“I deserve to see you capture my beauty!” Sirius collapsed in an exaggerated performance and you couldn’t decide whether you were amused or embarrassed, giggling and hiding your face in Remus’ shoulder. He merely pat you on the shoulder, shooting you a fond gaze you couldn’t see. James caught it though, and smirked in a way that Remus knew he was about to be embarrassed.
“Have you drawn Moony?” He asked, and you both looked at him suddenly.
“Padfoot, don’t,” Remus said sternly, then turning to you, “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer… I know they must ruin the picture.” He gestured down to his scars. You just looked at him for a moment, utterly baffled.
“As if some silly scars would stop me from drawing you,” You said, a sweet smile on your lips, “You’re my biggest inspiration, Moony.” He blushed at that but the rest of your friends tactfully ignored it, though the boys shot him some shit-eating looks.
It was probably true that you drew Remus the most, but it was only because you spent the most time with him! Or, that’s what you told yourself anyway. Remus Lupin was your best friend in the world, and you loved him more than anything. Since you were always together and hanging out, clearly you’d draw him more, it was perfectly natural!
Your study sessions together in the library often devolved quickly, essays abandoned to the side, both of you falling into chatter as you studied and sketched him.
“What’re you drawing, dove?” He’d always ask, knowing you’d never tell. You’d simply press your lips into a cheeky smile, shaking your head resolutely.
“Uh-uh,” You’d say, “An artist never reveals her secrets.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s magicians, stupid,” He laughed, running a hand through his curls.
“Oh,” You frowned, “Well I’m that too, aren’t I?”
“Hardly,” He snorted, “Your essays are more doodles than writing.”
“Hey, Slughorn gave me a whole extra mark for the portrait I drew last week, so none of that.”
Or you’d follow him out of the pub you were all in when Remus needed a smoke, sitting on the blacked out window ledge as he lit up. You thought he might have been the most beautiful person in the world when he smoked, the way the lighter brought out the gold flecks in his eyes and hair and the shadows of night emphasised his unreal bone structure. You’d probably drawn him in that exact scenario hundreds of times, but it wasn’t your fault he looked like a fallen angel. When he leaned over to give you a puff you took it gratefully, if only for the proximity. You weren’t much of a smoker, but for Remus you’d let your lungs rot.
It was moments like that where you’d wonder what it would be like to kiss him, lean past the cigarette and put your mouth on his. Sometimes you thought he wanted it too, the way he’d get slightly too close for best friends, his own hand being the one to stick the dart into your mouth, sometimes so close your lips brushed his fingers. Moments like that made you wonder if he loved you back. Then later, when everyone was drunker, you’d see him stick his tongue down some prettier girl’s throat and you’d remember your place as his best friend. If it stung you tried not to show it, letting some sleazy guy a few years older than you buy you drinks until Peter told you it was time to leave.
Still, you were mostly alright with just being friends with Remus. You still got most of the benefits; his conversation, his dry humour, the ability to look at his gorgeous face. Who needed everything else? Plus, you could draw him whenever you wanted, doing whatever you wanted — not in a weird way. Mostly. You still would never admit that you’d drawn him holding your hand, or kissing you, or other things you desired… The magic of art, right?
After years of bugging, you finally submitted to your friends constant nagging. The day that you officially graduated Hogwarts was an emotional one. Seven years of constant laughter and magic (both literal and the sentimental kind) were over, and the world seemed too large and intimidating compared to the familiar walls of your school. Yet there was no stopping it, and you were all Hogwarts graduates.
While all your parents cried and reminisced over coffee in the Great Hall, your friends had gone for one last deep conversation by the Black Lake. Discussions of the future were unavoidable, but were mostly positive. Talks of trips you’d take, apartments you’d live in and hell you’d raise. When you all quietened down slightly, struck by it being the last time you’d sit in front of the lake, you cleared your throat.
“Um, I have something for you guys, a graduation gift.” From your purse you pulled the envelopes, all filled with fancy cardstock from the art shop near your family home. You’d drawn a simple grey-lead portrait of each of your friends, framed with a little message of congratulations. You watched anxiously as they each opened the envelopes, nervous all the hype would make the art seem inconsequential. Your fear couldn’t be farther from the truth.
Sirius gasped dramatically as he saw what it was, but a genuine smile followed straight after. James burst straight into tears, hardly getting the picture all the way out. You could tell Lily was trying not to follow, but seeing her boyfriend cry set off the waterworks for her. Marlene and Mary were inspecting the others, pointing out the little details you’d put in, like Mary’s favourite daisy earrings or the slit Marlene had impulsively shaved into her eyebrow only a few weeks before. Peter was bright pink, flattered to the highest degree. Remus was hard to read, simply staring at you with the strangest look in his eye. You couldn’t ask him about it though, being ambushed with hugs from every direction.
“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this talent from us,” Peter said, the rest agreeing.
“Didn’t know we had our very own Da Vinci hiding behind a Gryffindor tie,” Marlene added, making you blush and grin.
You dreaded to imagine what it would look like from an outsider’s perspective, the eight of you teary, sweaty messes all piled on top of each other. Well, seven of you.
“Come on, Moony,” James called in a sing-song voice, “If you can’t submit to a hug at our graduation I am going to give you the biggest, slobberiest kiss and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.” Remus snorted, rolling his eyes.
“You look like absolute wankers,” Was all he said, but joined the pile nonetheless, and you were extra glad he was mainly holding on to you. When you all finally pulled away it was minutes later, but the whole thing was strangely cathartic.
“We all have to promise that we’ll always be friends, no matter what,” Mary said, putting her pinky finger out. The rest of you agreed, sticking your pinkies in for a very convoluted eight way promise. With that sorted your friends started heading back up the hill to the school building, ready to leave Hogwarts forever and prepare for a long night of heavy drinking. Remus held you back. James sent you a suggestive glance when he noticed but left it that, drawing Lily in for a bittersweet kiss.
You turned to Remus, only for his eyes to be locked on the portrait. You’d spent so much time trying to get it perfect for him, practising the stupid knot he insisted on tying every day despite the rest of the school going with a less convoluted method of wearing their ties.
“Do you like it?” You asked, subconsciously twisting your ring around your pointer finger. Remus let out a half laugh.
“I love it, honest. It’s insane, really. That you can make this just like that. It’s just…” You searched his eyes for the rest of the sentence. “You make me look…” He didn’t finish but you knew immediately what he meant. Remus hated looking at himself, training his eyes down in the bathroom and opting to always be the photographer so he didn’t have to see himself in the final product. You knew of course it was because of his scars, but you genuinely couldn’t believe he thought they were ugly, much less made him ugly.
“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, just once,” You sighed, grabbing his free hand and interlocking your fingers, leading him back to where the others were waiting.
Four years out of Hogwarts and you’d all kept your promise. Of course you didn’t see each other quite as much as the boarding school schedule allowed, but the boys all had an apartment together which brought you together often enough — except James and Lily who were married and had moved down to Godric’s Hollow to raise baby Harry. That similarly brought you all to meet often, all determined to spoil Harry as his aunts and uncles.
You weren’t a full-time artist professionally, though you still did it just as much. You’d evolved to paints by then; living with a muggle because the rent was cheap had the added bonus of not having to worry about leaving your paintings on the easel since you didn’t really care what they thought about your art anyway.
Your friends were all huddled in the boys’ apartment living room, every seat taken as you all caught up. You were on the couch with Remus, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair as his head rested on your lap. You still weren’t dating, but Lily always said you might as well have been. You laughed her off every time — if he hadn’t said anything by now how could he feel the same way? You tried to pretend it didn’t still sting.
You’d tried dating, Remus too. He’d had countless partners since you’d finished school — even more one night stands. Nothing lasted more than a few months. You’d done slightly better, you made it about a year with some bloke that Remus hated before he revealed himself as a colossal dickhead, and you’d been mostly single since.
The group was trying to organise their next meeting.
“What about the movies next Friday? I wanna see that new muggle film, Knife Runner,” James suggested and you and Remus both snorted.
“Blade Runner, love,” Lily corrected with a giggle and James burst out laughing, making a quick joke at his own expense. You’d dug your planner out of your purse to check your availability and frowned, closing the book quickly.
“I can’t do next Friday, sorry, how about Saturday?”
“And what plans have you got on a Friday night, you minx?” Mary asked with wiggling eyebrows. Even Remus looked interested, which made your heart stutter.
“Just a work thing,” You answered quickly, not wanting to reveal the real reason.
“You lie like a rug!” Marlene yelled, sitting up from her spot on the floor. You winced, you shouldn’t have made an excuse that she could so easily disprove, being in the same department of the ministry. “What plans are you too embarrassed to tell us about, slag?” You laughed shortly, their assumptions were so completely off.
“It’s not what you think—”
“Not what you think my arse, who’s ‘Davis Show’ and why is he surrounded by hearts, you absolute tart!” Sirius cried, displaying the planner for everyone to see. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, wheezing as you looked at your friends’ faux-scandalised expressions.
“Look you twats, Davis Show isn’t a man. I’ve been invited to put my art in a show at the Davis Gallery down on Welking Road next week. I can assure you I’m not shagging a man named Davis.”
The whiplash was immediate, the gossip sniffing exchanged for celebrations, you couldn’t tell whose yelling was whose. Peter immediately ran to the kitchen for a bottle of champagne, passing glasses around the room. When the initial excitement wore down you were subjected to a million questions, and tried to answer each of them patiently.
“I can’t believe you weren’t gonna tell us,” Mary pouted and you sighed.
“You know how I get about my art,” You explained, “It’s not that I don’t love you all, obviously, it just makes me so nervous thinking about you guys all seeing my stuff.”
“You know we’re all coming now, right?” James said, wiping his glasses where the champagne bubbles had created smudges.
“You really don’t have to,” You put in quickly, “It’s so embarrassing.”
“Why won’t you let us appreciate you?” Marlene whined.
“It’s just, my art is like an extension of my soul. I don’t think I’d be able to recover if you didn’t think it was good.” Your friends grew rowdy at that, offended you’d even think they wouldn’t adore your art no matter what. You felt Remus put a hand on your thigh and gave him a weak smile, knowing he’d shut down the conversation if you wanted him to. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing though, especially when everyone was being so supportive. You figured everyone was so busy they’d forget it by the next week anyway.
Friday came, and you were a wreck of nerves. Although you’d sold pieces here and there throughout the years, this show would be the first time your art would be displayed as a collective, and you were terrified of rejection.
You’d figured your friends weren’t actually coming since none of them had really mentioned anything since. Apart from Lily, of course, who’d sent an owl to your desk that morning with a sweet good luck note and your favourite chocolate.
Even Remus hadn’t said anything when you went for coffee on your lunch break. That did puzzle you, you knew he would never go if he thought it would make you uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like him as your best friend to forget something so monumental in your life. You thought he was acting kind of weird though, more affectionate than he usually was. He kept looking at you longer than he should, and you wondered if you’d miscounted how far away the next full moon was. When you asked him about it he just brushed it off, looking down at his tea instead like he’d been caught.
“I love you,” He said and you laughed.
“I love you too, Lupin!” You cooed, patting him softly on the hand.
“You’re amazing, you know?” You arched a brow.
“What are you trying to make up for?” You asked suspiciously, giving him a once over to search for answers.
“Nothing, promise,” He smiled in a way that made your knees a little weak, “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”
“You’re gonna give me an ego,” You grumbled, packing up your things to get back to work. As you parted ways he pressed a kiss down to your cheek and you stumbled. Remus was never this affectionate as a person — a pat on the back, a hug if you needed one, yes, but he was never one for casual platonic kisses. You figured it must have been his way to apologise for not coming to the art show? But he knew you didn’t mind, so what was he apologising for? You tried to shake it off and get back to work, but you couldn’t get your closeness out of your head.
Evening fell and you were setting up your stall before the other patrons came in. Rearranging the paintings until you were pretty much perfectly happy, you looked around, still not fully believing you were really here. People were filtering in, well dressed and chattering softly as young waiters handed out flutes of champagne. You straightened out your silky black skirt in an effort to look more presentable, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
At first things were slow, and you almost regretted not inviting your friends, if only so they could make your area look more interesting. And once you let that thought in, you kind of regretted not inviting them anyway. After all, they were the dearest people in your life and this was such a meaningful event to you.
You couldn’t think about that for long though since people had begun to filter over to you, making polite small talk as they admired your paintings. You tried to be energetic, smiling widely if you ever locked eyes with someone. However, deep down, you just wanted your friends.
A little old woman approached you for a while, wanting to know the meaning behind basically every painting and you told her happily, sharing the memories that inspired each work.
“Seems like you’ve got some true friends,” She said, “I hope you keep them close.” You agreed, thanking her profusely as she bought a landscape of the Whomping Willow.
It was growing closer and closer to closing, and honestly, it had been a wonderful night. Seeing the way that people reacted and interacted with your art was a magical experience, and changed the way you thought about it entirely. You decided that if you ever got the opportunity again, you’d want to share it with everyone else.
You were just moving to start packing up when you heard a myriad of gasps.
“What the fuck, dude?” The unmistakeable voice of Marlene McKinnon said from behind you. You whipped around to meet them, breaking into a cheek splitting smile.
“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, rushing over to scoop them all up into a hug.
“Fuck that, why didn’t you tell us that we’re your exhibition?” Sirius cried, running up to examine the paintings more clearly.
“And that they’re literally professional?” Peter added, eyes wide in wonder. You flushed red under their praise. If your friends thought your pencil portraits were good, they were nothing compared to your paintings.
Plus, every one of them was of your friends, or something sentimental to you all. Landscapes of Hogwarts, portraits of your friends, captured memories of long summer days, or life sketches from when you were all together. You watched them observe the paintings with nervous excitement, loving as they gave specific, personal compliments that only people who truly knew you could give.
“This our apartment,” Sirius said, pointing to one of your biggest pieces, “That’s our couch, the pillow Prongs has permanently ruined with butterbeer, that’s Moony!”
“There are a lot of paintings of Moony, aren’t there?” James whispered to you, wiggling his eyebrows. You flushed again. Sirius continued on, seeming (or pretending) not to have heard.
“We have to have this in the flat. Right boys?” Your eyes widened.
“Really?”
“For sure,” Peter said, “I’m buying this one too.” He gestured to one of him and James playing chess in the Gryffindor common room.
“And this is taking pride of place at home.” James pointed to a portrait of his and Lily’s wedding, and Lily similarly chose one of her and baby Harry. Marlene took one of her and Mary on the beach and Mary took one of the group at a house party. Half your paintings ended up being sold by the end of the night, and you couldn’t feel luckier. The only one who hadn’t said anything was Remus, who couldn’t keep his eyes off the paintings.
You shooed your friends out of the gallery once it really was closing time, and got to work packing away your things. You were deep in thought, reflecting on the wild day when someone cleared their throat behind you. It was Remus, and he moved to help you put your things away, stacking the paintings between bubble wrap to protect them.
“These are really beautiful,” He said, “I mean, we knew you were talented but… these are seriously on another level.”
“Thanks, Remus.” You smiled, unable to make eye contact as you watched him handle all the paintings you’d done of him. Portraits like the others, but also studies of his hands — god you were obsessed with his hands — his profile, and one less than innocent picture of his back, scars resting over muscles. You probably shouldn’t have put that one out, but to be fair you didn’t know he’d see it.
There was a somewhat awkward silence between the two of you. Not uncomfortable, per se, but there were definitely things you both wanted to say that neither knew how to.
“Let me drive you home,” Remus settled on and you nodded, letting him help you load your work into the boot of his car. You sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly tapping your fingers on the dashboard to whatever radio station Remus had turned on. Remus stared straight ahead, knuckles pulled tight around the steering wheel.
“I’m really proud of you, you know. This whole show was incredible.” You went to thank him again but he kept talking. “I just wanted to know, um, there were a lot of paintings of me. I was just wondering why, why me?” You hesitated, unsure of what was going to come out of your mouth.
“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You decided on with a bit of a sigh.
“You’ve said that before, what does that mean?” Your breath hitched. You definitely didn’t intend for it all to come out tonight, but if you didn’t say it now you doubted you ever would.
“You are the most beautiful person I know, Remus. I mean, even aside from your personality — which we know I have to be at least somewhat a fan of after all these years — you’re totally fit. Your eyes, your hair, God, your fucking bone structure, you’re literally a walking renaissance painting. And I know you think your scars make you ugly, but you don’t know how turned on I get thinking about how they’d feel on my skin.” Shit, you probably should’ve stopped talking.
You hadn’t realised he’d parked while you were rambling, but now you were sitting outside his apartment and he was looking at you with eyes that looked more like the wolf than him.
“I turn you on?” He whispered, voice suddenly gravelly as he leaned closer in to you.
“More than anything,” You breathed, brain buffering at the feeling of his breath on your face. Suddenly his mouth was on yours, hot and electric and not at all gentle. It felt like years of pent up frustration being let out all at once, and if he was anything like you, it probably was.
“Up,” He mumbled between kisses and you heard him undoing his seatbelt, hurrying to do the same. You barely disconnected to get out of the car, attaching yourself to his arm as he led the way up to the boys’ flat.
You made it up the three flights of stairs, not without Remus pushing you up against the stairwell wall to stick his tongue in your mouth, and stumbled straight into his bedroom, shedding layers as soon as the door was safely shut.
The next morning you awoke first, initially convinced you were dreaming when you saw him lying peacefully beside you. Eventually you rolled onto your side, ready to get out of bed for a glass of water when his nightstand caught your eye. There, in pride of place, was your graduation portrait of him, with a polaroid of the two of you stuck to the corner. Maybe he really had liked you as long as you’d liked him.
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smeddiemunson · 2 years
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(part 1 here)
After they narrowly escape being fucked up by what Eddie had planned for them (a goblin ambush they were completely underprepared for), the Hellfire members took their sweet time in clearing up after themselves; an unspoken agreement between the older members to hang around long enough to see just how Eddie behaves around Steve.
Gareth didn’t think Dustin had figured it out. He just connected dots he doesn’t know are on the same playing board, Eddie’s mystery crush and Steve’s favourite song nothing more than a coincidence. Or at least Gareth hoped that’s how it’s playing out, he knew it took a lot, more than his posturing would ever imply, for Eddie to reveal his big secret to the band. He didn’t want Eddie to have to confront that again until he felt ready, even if it is just to some kids.
Jeff was kneeling on the floor, reaching under the table where he pretended to drop a bag of dice when Steve began to make his way down the stairs.
Over his shoulder he called out, “Thank you, Mrs Wheeler!”
Jeff didn’t see the way Eddie perked up just at the sound of his voice, but Gareth and Grant certainly did.
“Are you flirting with Mrs Wheeler again, Stevie?” Eddie teased, ignoring the way Mike retched and groaned about it being gross.
‘Stevie?’ Gareth mouthed to Grant, who just shrugged. Nicknames are a dime a dozen when Eddie decides he likes a person. Gareth had been Gare-Bear for as long as he’d known him, Jeff was Jeffy, and Grant got to be ad-Grant-age. Stevie was a bit different, Stevie was close, affectionate in a way that the nicknames that usually spilled from Eddie’s lips weren’t.
This was maybe worse than they thought.
The last crush Eddie had was there and gone almost in a blink of an eye. Connor from his home room who doodled stick figure drawings of their teachers to pass to Eddie every morning until the jocks got to him and Eddie was cast aside again. But for two precious weeks, Eddie was happy, nice, and didn’t freak when Grant snapped a guitar string that meant they couldn’t practise until he got his hands on a replacement.
This was wholly different. Steve didn’t even bat an eyelash at the affectionate tone, in fact, Gareth thought he saw a faint pinkness colour his cheeks; though he didn’t know if it was just the heat of the basement that did it.
“Convincing her you haven’t yet corrupted her children more like,” Steve laughed.
Jeff, who had now appeared from under the table, made a half aborted motion towards Mike that only Gareth and Grant could see from their side of the table. There was no question that Eddie had sunk his claws into Wheeler and the boy was fully corrupted. If they didn’t know better, they could’ve confused Mike for Eddie’s brother, the resemblance now so uncanny.
Eddie smiled. A real one that took up his whole face and made his eyes sparkle.
Definitely worse than they thought.
Steve turned to the kids. “Henderson, you’re with me. Byers you’re with Eddie. Sinclair, I trust you can walk next door without supervision?” He glanced at his watch while Lucas nodded as if this weren’t the first time he’d been questioned in such a way. “And we’ve got thirty minutes until curfew so get moving.”
The kids, naturally grumbled but they didn’t argue, which was yet another weird thing for the Corroded Coffin boys to experience. Those kids argued with everything.
“Oh hey, Ed, Argyle is getting in late Friday night so pool party at mine on Saturday. You in?” Steve dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, trying to act casual, as if he didn’t care about Eddie’s answer. But it was clear as day to Gareth, who didn’t even know him, that Steve really really cared.
Eddie’s face fell. “Sorry, band practice on Saturday. We’ve got a show coming up so…”
Gareth jumped in before he had to watch either of them start crying. “You can go after, Eddie. My mom’ll kill me if we spend all day in the garage anyway.”
Steve’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning.
Now Gareth couldn’t be certain, he wasn’t certain about anything in his life except for his love of Iron Maiden and the reality that he was never leaving Hawkins, but he was fairly sure Steve Harrington might just return Eddie’s feelings.
“Awesome! Hey, you guys should come too! It’s only gonna be a small thing: me, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and his friend Argyle.”
“Um, thanks, but—“ Jeff cut off in his refusal with a groan as Gareth and Grant not so subtly dug their elbows into his stomach.
They were going to have to spend more time in the orbit of Eddie-and-Steve if Gareth was going to be able to figure out if feelings were a two way street. He wasn’t super excited about the prospect of spending all afternoon playing nice with rich kids, but he’d done worse things for the sake of making Eddie happy. He could do this as well.
“We’d love to!” Grant filled in a little too excitedly. Gareth shot him a look that hopefully conveyed his need to calm down.
“Where do you live?”
Steve smiled. “Teddy knows, he’s been enough times. Oh and you’re welcome to crash after, if you want. There’s enough space.”
“Teddy,” Gareth echoed. They all knew about Eddie’s mom’s nickname for him. Eddie’s dead mom’s nickname for him, and the way he never wanted a reminder.
Steve laughed. “Yeah because he’s just so cuddle-able!”
Eddie, through clenched teeth and a bright red blush, hissed. “Shut up.”
Oh and his eyes pleaded with Gareth to let it go, that they wouldn’t talk about it later.
Clue 5. Eddie was completely aware of how smitten he was.
“We’ll be there, Harrington,” Gareth said, the finality on the matter that Jeff would be arguing with him about later.
Steve smiled so wide it was almost blinding. He left with a squeeze to Eddie’s shoulder, hand lingering longer than necessary, and Dustin moaning about why the kids hadn’t been invited to a pool party.
There were two things Gareth knew for sure. One: Eddie wasn’t just crushing on Steve Harrington, he was well on his way to being in love with him. Two: Steve was either just the chillest guy alive (unlikely) or he returned Eddie’s feelings.
Either way, Gareth had some meddling to do.
(part 3)
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jinkiesmariz · 1 month
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So I did like three more headshots cuz I got sidetracked during a comm Anywaysssss
Presenting Malachi first :33 my beautiful lovely baby boy who is most definitely the prettiest boy in the village. Definitely would be more of a heartbreaker if like. He didn’t accidentally speak like Phoenix Drop’s equivalent of a medieval poet trying to converse with like modern day folks.
Also I gave him a bandana because everyone and their mother has a green scarf and it gets far too confusing and aggravating after awhile
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Erm next is Molly :33 I do have a Molly design page I never shared and I won’t ever share cuz I never finished it ♡ anyways to me she definitely is like a waitress/head lady at a tavern with an inn on the second floor in Phoenix Drop, at least I believe she met Dale there and sparks flew between the two or something. Idk I like drawing her holding two big glasses of beer and having some level of charisma even if she’s like overbearing and shit outside of work.
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And lastly Yip :3 tbh I looked at my whole doodle sheet and realized I accidentally like drew blondes vs brunettes so I ended it off with yip even tho he technically has black hair and not brown hair I like to think he has a pretty ample amount of body hair and thick wavy hair from the werewolf genes and also just cuz he’s gorgeous or whatever. The town’s big brother and I don’t really remember much sorryyyyy lol
I also think he has sharpened and slightly elongated ears but not in the way elves/half elves do but more of a weird shape idk I’ll draw it better later just guess for now
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Oh and like one final thing I accidentally mistook Alexis for having a crush on Malachi and not Yip so I drew this to show how he just effortlessly sparkles before Cal told me I was wrong <\3
My beautiful boy with gorgeous lashes and droopy sparkly eyes or whatever. I would’ve drawn him with his hair tied but he would’ve looked too much like vylad to me and I would’ve gotten mad so unpractical hair it is!!!
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Ehe thats all for today and probably the next couple of weeks so toodles ☆
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catsrulesworld · 11 months
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Headcanons for Miles(s)
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An: I kinda went overboard but that's okay 🤗 I appreciate all the love and kind words on the posts so again can never thank you enough but pls send requests I need to get more ideas anyway enjoys these head canons about these silly gooses
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Miles 1610
He sometimes shocks himself when he sneezes
His dad cuts his hair
Hobie pierced his ears
He was a cat person before the whole cat thing during the chase
His love language is physical touch
He's super clingy
Makes tons of drawings of you from every angle in different outfits and everything
He definitely forget he was Spiderman one time and came to your house through your window in his outfit it was a little like this
You:“OH MY GOD ITS SPIDERMAN”
Miles looks around: “NO WAY WHERE”
He doesn't cover his mouth when yawning
Always texts you even if he's swinging around the city
Mi corazón ❤️: Miles are you on the way I'm worried
Spidey boy: I'm almostytgere
Spidey boy: Fivemotemuns
Spidey boy: Mins*
Mi corazón ❤️: Okay love you
Spidey boy: Live you more 🥰
Hobie has tried to teach him a little guitar but Miles gets mad so he doesn't do it
He makes playlists of your favorite songs and plays if he misses you
He used Photomath or Brainly even though he doesn't need it
Science and math is his strong suit but English and social studies aren't
He's good at sports he just doesn't like them
His favorite food his mom makes is Arroz con gandules, Asopao de pollo, and Arroz con dulce
During family BBQs his favorite dance is the cupid shuffle
Only knows how to do a few dances but when he does he's incredible at it
His favorite season is summer because everyone is outside having fun
If you play sports/instruments he's at your concerts or games and if he can't go he drowns you in apologies and kisses
He's overthinker so if you don't respond in the next ten minutes he starts to think the worst
Spidey boy: Hi my love! Do you want to come over soon?
Spidey boy: My love are you okay
Spidey boy: Are you mad at me
Spidey boy: I'm sorry if you are
Spidey boy: Please talk to me
Mi corazón: I'm sorry Miles I was asleep yes I'm fine I'm not mad at you ill come over to your house after school tomorrow make sure you save me some of your mom's food 🤤i love you bb 💋
He's a big family guy so he wants to drag you to every family event that happens
Mama Rio saves you plates if you can't come and if you do she gives you tons and tons of food ( and you have to eat it all it or else)
Remembers all your favorite things meals, flowers, movies, shows, colors etc anything and everything
When he's nervous he bounces his legs or picked at his nails
Helps you pick out outfits
During class, he draws little doodles of you on his paper plus he draws you guys as little stick figures holding hands with hearts and passes it to you
Helps stray animals like cats and dogs he feeds them and pets them
Has a mural for you
If he can't sleep because he missed you he facetimes you so he can sleep
When he does face time you, the call last forever
Loves it when you hold him holding his face while you place kisses all over him, while you draw lines with his freckles
His freckles come out a lot more in the summer because of the sun he has them all over his back
Loves hugs
Likes to walk with you to simple places like the park or to an ice cream place
He's the singer in the spider band
He's tenderheaded so he never has his hair in braids
He has like a million pictures of you
He's a picky eater
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Miles 42
He spoils the crap out of you if you even glance at something in the store he's already ready to buy it
Worker: I'm sorry sir but the wine glasses are not for sale
Miles: If she likes the wine glass I'm getting her the wine glass.
Worker: sir why can't you understand these are not for sale
Miles: why can't you understand that I'm getting the glasses
He got the glasses thirty minutes later
He does your hair in whatever braids you want because his mom taught him
He knows how to dance but he only does it with you
His love language is gift giving
He buys matching stuff for you guys necklaces, bracelets, plushies etc
He draws but not super often but when he does it's beautiful
He sometime listens to his dad favorite songs when he misses him
Sees Uncle Aaron as his semi father figure
His favorite game is uno even when Uncle Aaron gets mad and almost punches Miles
Helps his mom cook
His favorite season is winter because he loves the memories it brings of his dad
Lays down flowers and talks to his dads grave
He's a dry texter but he does text you
Knows you better than yourself he can always tell when somethings up
He's a cuddlebug even if he doesn't show it
He loves kisses he doesn't use chapstick but if you're wearing some he’ll kiss it off you
Face times you while he plays his games or is spray painting
Knows all the cool secret abandoned spots
Hates pictures of himself loves them of you tho
He's good at every subject in school
Helps with homework if you need it
Mama Rio loves you because ever since you came into his life he started being more happy after his dads death
Has nightmares of his dads death
He hates the morning
Loves to stargaze with you (knows all constalations)
His favorite food his mom makes is Caldo Santo, Empanadillas, Flan de Queso
Loves all food not picky what so ever
Has a sweet tooth
He passes notes to you in class
He will literally do anything for you
Wears contacts because he hates his glasses
When you date him you get scary dog privileges
Will scare anyone away if they even glance at you but he's a sweetheart deep down
Doesn't know how to explain his emotions
Cats lowkey scare him but he likes them because they're more chill
His favorite gum is Polar Ice
Always completing you
“You look beautiful ma”
“My pretty girl”
“I love that dress on you Mami”
“Estás preciosa”
Loves to go shopping with you
Holds your bags
Helps you pick out clothes
“Miles do you think this looks good on me?”
“Yes mami get that one”
“What about this one? I think it looks a little weird in the back but I don't know”
“Oh lord I'm about to act up”
“Miles!”
His mom loves when you come over for dinner she loves the extra guests
Mama Rio shows embarrassing pictures of him from when he was a baby
“And this is when my beautiful baby got mud on him so he had to take a warm bubble bath with his favorite ducks!”
“Ma, please.”
Your biggest supporter in everything
Okay I can't think of anything else I love them there so silly goose
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fredwkong · 3 months
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Alphaworld File 3: Diary of an Alpha Transformation (1 of ?)
Click here to read Alphaworld in posting order.
X
An undated journal. It is heavily bedazzled on the covers, though many of the gems appear to have been scraped off or stepped on. There are several stains yellowing the coloured paper of the cover, mostly sweat.
Inside the front cover, there is a space where the owner is encouraged to write their name. Two names occupy the space, one on top of the other. The lower layer is written with a purple marker, neatly spelling the name “Ronaldo Herrera.” There are multicoloured sparkles drawn around the name, and glitter has been sprinkled over it. Some of the glitter appears to have been scraped off with a knife, and there is a 3 centimetre tear at the top interior of the page, as if someone was about to rip it out. On top of the first name, the name “RONNIE H” is scrawled in crude capitals using a pencil. The pencil was applied with sufficient force that graphite scrapes are visible from where they were brushed off the page.
Journal entries flow into each other without dating, but editors have split entries based on context and labelled them “Day One, Day Two, Day Three…” despite the fact that more than one day clearly proceeds between some entries. From this point onward, journal entries are transliterated directly, with marginalia and other notes on the text rendered in square brackets [] to distinguish them from the main body.
[Day One]
OMG, I’m soooo happy to be back on campus! Staying with my parents is such a bore! They don’t let me stream any of my shows, they say drag race is of the devil, and the town is so small that I’m, like, the only twink there. I can’t even get any dl dick all holiday because country guys are all totally masc for masc. My hole is toooootally desperate.
I’m so happy that Ollie across the hall got me this journal! He made it look soooo cute with all the stones! He’s, like, okay for a fellow bottom, even tho his massive crush on me is, like, totally obvious. Sorry babe, this dick is for decoration only lmao! Maybe we could get tag teamed by a big dick boy sometime, that’d be pretty hot. I've never bottomed alongside a transmasc dude.
Anyway, I just stopped at the dorm to drop off my suitcase and get out of my het drag, there’s a whole lotta frat parties starting tonight and if I wanna end my dry spell I’ve gotta be there! I just had to live my Sex and the City fantasy by putting down a few lines in the diary first!
[a doodle of an open-faced journal with scribbly lines on the page in rainbow colours]
[Day Two]
ZOMGGGGGGG [written in double-tall bubble letters across a quarter of the page, filled in with pink highlighter]
This term is gonna be SO AWESOME.
Campus is suddenly full of massive muscle men who are totally desperate for me! I was, like, totally the target of a dominance contest at the party last night, and it was SO HOT.
So I walk in, right? And I’m dressed in my usual, my lil slutty crop and my littlest shorts. Here, I took a pic before I left so you can see how cute I was.
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Anyway, I’m cute, I’m obvious, I’m ready to have any guy absolutely wreck me. Like, last night, I would have taken a bicurious frat bro fucking me raw, my hole was so neglected. So I am a blaring neon sign: I’M A FAG [written in rainbow marker colours]
And as soon as I walk in, this GOD [a doodle of a massive man is in the margin, a perfect X shape covered in cartoonishly bulging muscles] comes up to me and is all, “Hey boy, I’m Nate.” He. Is. PERFECT. Gorgeous grey eyes, windswept dirty blond hair, a tank top hugging pecs the size of my HEAD. And his voice gets me tooootally weak in the knees. I can't believe he's LOOKING at lil ol me, even if I do look like a twinky slut.
But before I can even say anything to Nate, there’s another MASSIVE arm draped over my shoulder, and ANOTHER massive guy is whispering in my ear, like, “Name’s Lee. Want a drink?” I look over, and he’s just as hot as Nate, with shiny black hair and this perfect sexy smile like a J-pop star. But, like, if a J-pop star was 250 pounds of pure muscle and sex.
I swear all the air went out of the room. Suddenly, Nate and Lee were glaring at each other over me, and all these frat bros were staring.
BTW, when did all the frat bros get so cuuuute? Like, not as sexy as Nate and Lee, but they’re all totally cut this term and I think they’ve got some skincare going? Like I wanna go back sometime lmao.
Lee, like, GROWLED as he glared across me. I felt a li-ter-al rumble from his chest. Nate started totally flexing his big pecs, I thought his shirt was gonna shred in the middle. They didn’t even SAY anything, it was so totally primal. I think I got a whiff of Lee as he tucked me closer to his chest, and I realised he totally doesn’t use deodorant. He smelled totally HAWT.
Anyway, I have two perfect men fighting over me, and I’m not letting either of them go, so I go, “Boys, I promise my holes are big enough to share.” I totes flashed my dimples at them. [doodle of a smiley face]
They kept glaring at each other, but finally Lee was like, “I get his hole.” Maybe he, like, won the contest or whatever? Because Nate looked down at the floor and said, “Fine.” And I mean, fine with me! I love getting stuffed from both ends! What a way to come back from vacay!
We didn’t stay at the party long, just long enough for Lee to get me a drink and Nate to carry me around the dance floor a bit. I checked on Lee while we were dancing, and he was, like, totally making out with one of the frat bros. Like, a guy I knew was straight. I blew him freshman year when his gf was away. I guess Lee’s just like that, lmao.
We ended up upstairs. I think Lee’s in the frat? But we weren’t in his room, which was kinda hot. Lee and Nate sandwiched me between them as soon as we were through the door. I was tooootally surrounded by massive muscle as Nate made out with me and Lee sucked on my neck. I felt, like, high, with Nate’s big cock grinding into my belly through his jeans while Lee felt up my cute ass.
“You guys kissing would be so hot,” I gasped as Nate pulled off my shirt and Lee took off my shorts.
They both hesitated, I could feel it. “Oh c’mon,” I moaned, “you’re both tooootally hot, and you haven’t touched at allllll.”
Suddenly, Lee picked me up and threw me on a random frat bro’s bed. “I guess your mouth IS gonna be busy,” he said, which was SOOO hot, and then he started slicking up my hole.
Pretty soon, both hunks were balls deep in me. They were SOOOOOO big [doodles of massive, soft cocks cover the margins of this page] and I took ALL of them. Lee filled me up SO good, rubbing my prostate like he was fingering me. And Nate tasted, like, perfect. And the whole time, Nate kept pulling back just far enough that I could watch him and Lee kissing over me.
FUCK, they made me look like a little doll between them! I think once they were in me, all the dominance stuff went away, because they were TOTALLY making out. Nate’s, like, SO noisy, and Lee kept on doing that growl thing like he’d done before, which made me moan around Nate’s cock, which made him even noisier.
I came handsfree right before Lee flooded my ass and Nate filled my mouth with cum.
By the time our clothes were back on, Lee and Nate were back to playing their weird dick measuring game, keeping me between them as we went back to the party. I think Nate left pretty soon, but I danced for a bit longer and made out with a few frat bros. They really ARE super cute now, and they all seemed totally into me. Guess they finally got over being raging fucking homophobes lmao.
Anyway, I got home and crashed as soon as I’d cleaned all the cum and sweat off. Now my hand’s all crampy from writing for so long lol. Oooh, I should go tell Ollie all about it!
[Day Three]
I was, like, SO right.
The last few days have been AWESOME!!!! [jagged star doodles all around the word] I swear there are soooo many hunks on campus all of a sudden! One of my profs this term is a tooootal musclestud.
So I’m taking this class on fashion history, and when I looked it up, this Prof. Romano guy was listed for it. He was cute, one of those cute tweed aesthetic guys. You know, a fag who studies fashion. Like, OMG, that picture must be SO OLD.
I show up for class all ready to sit in the back row, but then I see this MAN standing at the podium. Like, total Italian stallion, with the dark waves and the stubbly jaw. He was, like, BURSTING out of his blazer. I could watch his pec bounce through three layers of fabric.
So obv I run down and sit in the front row. I’m not the first fag to have the idea, there’s already like 3 other twinks down there, but I’m totally the cutest. As the rest of the class comes in and sits down, these two GORGEOUS boys walk in and go up to the prof. They’re totally shredded, and dressed in complementary button-ups. And the muscle-god prof pats each of them on the head! Then they go sit down in some chairs behind the podium, and I can see their boners in their cute slacks.
The prof clears his throat, and it’s this DEEP, RESONANT sound. I got a total eargasm just listening to the rumble. “Good morning, class,” he says. And then his next words are TOTALLY burned into my brain:
[written in shaky block letters across a whole page] “You will call me Alpha Mario.”
And then he says, “I am your professor, and I will see you all for extra credit,” while rubbing himself through his pants, like half the class isn’t ready to have his babies. My cock was ROCK FUCKING HARD in my jeans. [doodle of a leaking penis]
He introduces his TAs as Beta Max and Beta Owen. IDK, maybe it’s a kink thing? He’s clearly their dom or something, they were totally devoted to him all class. I’d happily be Alpha Mario’s Beta if he’s hiring, lmao! [hearts are doodled around “Alpha Mario”]
Anyway, that’s just one ep in the PORN SHOW that is my life these days! Ollie’s room has been, like, a revolving door of cock since we got back, and I usually take two or three loads a day out on campus. This group of straight computer science geeks actually begged to fuck me yesterday, so I was dripping all the way home.
They were surprisingly buff for nerds, too! I should point out to Ollie that we gotta hit the gym if we wanna keep up with all the boys on campus this term. Can you imagine? Us at the gym! [The rest of the page is covered in stickers of the laughing emoji]
[Day Four]
Went to the gym today! Not to workout, but I had this new outfit idea and I thought it might get me noticed if I just hung out in the locker room. OH BOY, was I right!
Last few days all my clothes have been feeling super tight, so I’ve been doing a lot of [scribbled in rainbow marker] SHOPPING. It’s too bad, all my old clothes were suuuuper cute, but I’ve started giving some of my old faves to repeat fuckbuddies. One of the guys who used to push me around for being faggy, this guy called Brendan, has been coming over for the last few nights. I never realised how cute he is before!
Anyway, the first night Brendan came over he throatfucked me, but last night he told me he really wanted to feel my fingers in his hole, so I started fingering him! It was soooo hot that my cock ended up totally hard and before I knew it HE was blowing ME while I rubbed his prostate. He’s been texting me all day, begging to service my cock again. Lol, he just sent a voice message all like, “Please, Ronaldo, I’ll do anything to make you cum again!”
My point is I gave him a pair of my old booty shorts. They fit him perfectly, even though he NEVER had an ass as nice as mine before. He’s been wearing them all day today, just like I told him. It’s so hot, knowing he’s showing off like a fag even though he used to be a straight homophobe.
Fuck, I was writing about MY clothes! I’ve been so distracted by hot beta boys the last few days. I thought it was kinda time to change up my style, plus I looked super hot trying on some more dude-type clothes, so here’s the pic of me I took while I was hanging out at the gym.
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I had guys HANGING OFF OF ME after a few minutes. It was totally hot, they wanted to do anything I said. Before long, I had a bunch of hot guys kissing me all over and all the cocks I could want to suck. Guys kept running out to grab their hot friends to join us, and all these guys were focussed on me.
At one point one of the staff came in, and I could tell it was to tell us to stop. He was a cute guy, really filled out his work polo, you know how gyms always hire swole dudes and curvy gurls to work at the front desk. I just gave him this LOOK from the middle of my pile of dudes, and I could feel his straightness melt away as his cock started leaking in his preppy shorts.
But just as I was about to cum, my cap got ripped off my head and I was dragged out of the pile by Nate, the guy from that frat party. I swear, he got even BIGGER since last time, he held me up by my shoulders like I was a paperweight. He was totally growling at me, too. He said something like, “I hate when they’re half done,” whatever that means, and then he yelled at all the other boys to get back to work.
Once we were along in the locker room, Nate shook me like a doll. “All the ex-het Betas can treat my gym as neutral ground, but it’s MY territory to you and the other half-done Alphas, you got it?” [note: Alpha and Beta are capitalised in the original text, although Ronnie does not seem to have been aware of the Alpha Phenomenon]
I was like “What are you talking about?”
Nate said, “You’ll get it.” Then I started smelling this INCREDIBLE smell. It was like really sharp cedar cologne mixed with fresh sweat. There was something else too, and it made me feel totally out of it.
Next thing I knew, I was on my knees swallowing Nate’s cock again. “Yeah,” he was saying while he fucked my throat, “this’ll speed you up. You’ll probably never submit again after this, so I’m gonna enjoy it.”
I just stayed there, taking him all the way into my throat. I feel like a week ago it would’ve been totally hot, but today it felt different. Nate using me made me MAD [underlined several times]. I felt like I should do something about it, like punch him or steal one of his boys, but the smell coming off of him kept me docile.
Nate came really quietly, which made me madder. My throat is an incredible tool, okay? Any guy should be screaming when I blow him, especially a noisy top like Nate. Then he patted me on the head like I was a little boy and said, “Head home. Drop a load in that guy who lives across from you, he should be progressing well too.” Then he just. Walked away.
I was gonna stay here all night just to spite the asshole, but I’m super horny again and I don’t wanna go back out. Maybe I’ll go see if Ollie’s got any visitors tonight or if he wants me to fill his holes for him.
[Day Five]
[From this point, entries are written in a noticeably heavier hand. Lowercase Es and Os become jagged.] Fuck, last night was fucking awesome. I knocked on Ollie’s door, and he answered in nothing but a thong, showing his bottom growth right through the fabric. His legs have been getting so hairy and thick, he looked super slutty. Plus his room smelled like sex and cum. I’ve been sleeping out, but seems like Ollie’s been taking house calls.
“Ronaldo?” he said, blinking up at me in surprise. I think we used to be a matching pair of little twinks, but guess I’ve had a growth spurt.
I shoved through the door. What was he gonna do, stop me? I was like, “Where’s your lube?” It came out of my mouth so deep, in a crazy manly register. “I wanna finger you.”
Ollie fuckin’ moaned when I said that, and stumbled over to his night table to grab it. He keeps his lube right out in the open, proud of how much cock he takes. I was already dropping my jeans, my cock was getting super hard and I hate feeling it strain. It deserves to be seen anyway.
Once I grabbed Ollie’s lube, he stood against the wall and presented his ass for me. Fuck, just remembering the look of all that hair on his fat ass is making me leak again. Okay I jerked a bit, should be able to write. [there is a stain on the page here]
Ollie’s hole was still loose from his last dick appointment, so I pushed three fingers in nice and easy. Ollie was moaning, all, “When did your fingers get so thick,” and “What’s happening to us, Ronaldo?” so I roughed up his G-spot a bit until he wasn’t being so articulate anymore.
“What’s happening to us is we’re gonna rule this school,” I hissed at him. I’d realised that it wasn’t gonna be enough to finger him and make him blow me. I needed to shoot inside his ass right fucking now. “Fags are in fucking charge here now.”
Fuck, wait, I need to text Brendan and get him over here. I need him milking my cock so I can focus on writing.
[There are several crude doodles of dicks, asses, and cum splatters in various marker colours before the entry continues on the facing page]
So anyway I slammed Ollie against the wall and shoved my cock into him. My cock’s so much fucking bigger now, too. Like it’s really filling up Brendan’s mouth while he sucks on me. I had enough cock to really saw at Ollie's asshole, and I felt him cum handsfree onto the wall.
“That’s it,” I growled in his ear as I had to hold him up. “This is what you’ve wanted ever since we became neighbours, right? Ollie wanted to get Ronnie’s big alpha dick in his hole.” It felt good to call myself a
[in massive letters on its own line] ALPHA
Ollie didn’t really say words at that point, just lots of “Yes” and “More.” I could hear his voice getting deeper with every thrust, too.
By the time I was getting close, Ollie’s room reeked like ME. It wasn’t a bad smell, but I knew any boy who came in here would be able to tell that all this musk and spice wasn’t just Ollie. It would take weeks for this to be really Ollie’s territory again now that I had marked it. “Fuck, show me that man pussy,” I ordered him, and threw him down in his bed.
Switching holes felt like the most natural thing in the world. I’m fucking built for topping, I can’t believe I thought I hated it. I fucked Ollie through a couple more orgasms and then let myself fill up his man pussy with what felt like 3 loads.
I fell asleep still inside him.
FUCK. I just came in Brendan’s mouth, and it felt totally different. Like, I marked Ollie’s room, but I didn’t mark HIM. His holes are open for anyone to fill. He can own other boys for all I care. But Brendan? Brendan’s fucking MINE. He’s mine he’s mine he’s mine. MY Brendan. [scribbled hastily] I need his hole NOW.
[written later]
I took a pic of Ollie before I started fingering him. I bet he looks totally different now, like me. Gotta go, MY Brendan’s gonna show me how to do a gym session.
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To Be Continued...
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parrythisucasual · 7 months
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OMG OKAY SO,
can u do a Jax x reader, but Jax is like extremely rude to everyone but when reader comes along, he for some reason melts like puddy around them. ALSO, reader is like a femme fatale , she views men as below her, but she sees Jax as her lover. She’s like I hate all men! Except for u jax my love 💗(MWAHAHAH)
I'm sorry this fic is so short, I made it to the best of my ability! Course, I don't have any idea what femme fatale is so I just used context clues, ahhh! If it's bad I'll rework it! I actually made a lil doodle to make up for the shortness!
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Adoring! Jax x Femme Fatale! Reader
You had that boy wrapped around your finger. He was so smitten, you could tell him “Bark” and he’d respond “How loud?” It was extraordinarily satisfying. Not that you didn’t care about him, no, that would be cruel. In fact, he was the only man you’d ever harbored such a soft spot for. Isn’t it just perfect he’d be so… well… adoring?
Speak of the devil, you suppose. You glance around the corner, getting a sight of what he pretended to be when you weren’t around. Jax, standing tall and imposing, was staring down at Ragatha. You weren’t close enough to hear what was being said, but from the fury in her eyes and the smile on Jax’s face, you could gather a small idea.
You stepped into the room, “Oh, Jaxy, dear…” His head shot up at your words, the fake grandeur melting away like butter in a microwave, “I do hope you’re behaving yourself?” His expression changed from "high school bully" into “lovesick puppy” in an instant, nodding as he responded, “Yeah, course I am!”
You make your way over, motioning him to come to you with one finger. Jax hurried to your side, and you offered your hand to hold. He gladly took it, his thumb running over the back of your hand in small circles. You smile to Ragatha, “Sorry about him,” you apologize, and she just rolls her eyes, returning the grin, “It’s okay. I think he just missed you.”
“Did you?” you turn to Jax, chuckling a bit, “I was only away for a few hours to nap?” His grin turned awkward, “Well, I mean… I really just… er…” You use your free hand to pat his hand you were holding, “Don’t worry, love, I missed you too,” you reassure him.
“Anyways,” you glance back to Ragatha, “he’s going to apologize too. Aren’t you?” Jax, without hesitation, pipes up, “Sorry, Rags, it won’t happen again. Promise.” She shakes her head as she walks away, “Sure it won’t. See you around!” she adds as she makes her way over to Zooble and Gangle.
Jax glances at you, eyes hopeful, “Alright, big guy, come here.” You pull him down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “Now quit being so mean, honey, the others don’t deserve it. Besides, I’m getting tired of having to apologize for you.” 
“No more being mean, got it,” he nodded, leaning in for more kisses. You comply, a chuckle rising in your throat, “Cute.”
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themeeplord · 1 year
Note
Hi, Meep :) I was looking (once again hehe) at your cryptid boys design and I noticed that they have one pretty sharp claw on their feet. Is that a spur or is it another special pinky kind of deal? I love picking your brain about anatomy for your monsters, hope that's alright ❤️ Anyways, hope your day is going good, babe!
Hi Naff! ❤️
You know I can't say no to anatomy questions! And I definitely cannot answer them simply ether XD
Let's talk demon paws!✨
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My cryptid boys' feet are very theropod dinosaur like, but with all 5 toes intact instead of the typical 3 full toes + 2 vestigial/reduced toes.
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The big sickle-shaped claws are not spurs, they're huge claws attached to the innermost digit of their feet. They act pretty much the same as a Dromaeosaur's sickle claws, but they're placed a little differently.
These claws are mostly used for pinning down things on the ground. They're also great slicing and stabbing weapons if the arms are occupied, injured or pinned.
These claws are always suspended above the ground, even in their most relaxed state. This keeps them from getting dull and dirty.
Range of flexibility:
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And some extra doodles cause I like drawing these paws X3
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Thank you for picking at my brain! XD I love having to put everything anatomy related that's in my head into text and drawing form, it's a very fun exercise!
Aww! My day is going well, I hope yours is too❤️❤️❤️
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craacked-splatters · 15 days
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ur crossover prison dimension au intrigues me @imagionationstation do u have any more stuff to share about it? 👉👈
Sleep deprived so feeling a lil loopy(sorry for any incoherent babble) but Shsjdks yeah yeah adding this 2 the "stuff 2 draw for" pile here
I kept coming back to this au. More specifically the part where Dee and Leon r trapped in the prison dimension. Like Rise animators did a cool job on animating the squishy fleshy organic dead alien race stuff in the movie! Look at this!
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Ooey gooey icky ew ^^^ I love it
And also the prison dimension looks so sick and cool
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I imagine surviving in a dead wasteland full of decay and corpses and echoes with a lunatic hunting u down 24/7 wouldn't be fun. What horrors do u think they would witness while trying not to bleed out and die? What trauma would Kraang inflict on these two? Revenge and rage are the only things fueling that war criminal & truly I don't think there's anything holding that guy back (for the love of everything I hope the bois don't have to fight any other rise kraang tech, it's genuinely terrifying they're literally gonna die Do NOT let that maniac get their tentacles on anything else besides the weird corpse armour they're wearing plz & thank u)
These poor kids. Leon went from the movie events to this, and Donnie literally got poofed to atoms before popping up in the middle of a child murder. Wowza how overwhelming. The one thing that keeps popping up into my mind is the two of them huddling together under some ruins or holding hands bcuz they're too afraid 2 end up separating and dying alone. How strange would it be. To have a different version of ur brother(- not quite a stranger bcuz there's still similarities that he shares with ur own, he's a brother, he's not urs but there's another versión of u running around, there's a whole nother universe bcuz of course there is and somehow ur still bros in it and he's here instead of his home he's right here) how strange it must be to this different face, different voice and eyes and mannerisms an entire new soul as ur only anchor. To be the only thing to keep u from falling apart. To see each other as a constant reminder of what they wished they had, of wanting to their families, of wanting to just leave this hellscape where things don't make sense and just go home.
But when they do finally get rescued there is no feeling of safety or realness or even a home to greet them. Only a sense of wrong & confusion & hurt & the equally trembling hand holding ur own and those scared haunted eyes that followed u since the horror show of the prison dimension.
(Trauma bond!! Yay🎉)
How would Leon and Dee interact with each other at first and how did it change as they continued to survive? What was it exactly that made them start clinging to each other? Would it become a habit for them both to go reaching for the other even when nothing is said or done?
And and!! I was thinking about the 2 angst paths u set out too. They're both sooo good!! Honestly u have such a big brain where do u keep coming up with these genius ideas! The custody battle route is very angsty :)) heehehehe. Rise splints and Don having no problem stopping Dee from going home with his family for Leon is so sweet and also AUUUGHH!! They're literally willing 2 do whatever is needed to keep their family safe & happy and I cry but then I remember the 2012 fam being the same & then i cry again
Also ur so right d 2012 bros have never been apart for long, they literally spent 15 yrs of their life together bcuz together meant safe and safe meant home. They're literally heat seeking missiles for each other even in the show. With them it's either they all die or none of them do. How painful it must be to be ripped apart so suddenly like that :((
Um anyways so yeah very good au👍 will continue to doodle gonna sleep now
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rip-quizilla · 7 months
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Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 5
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
Summary: Everything is falling- leaves from the trees, rain from the sky, you for Eddie, and Eddie for you.
Word Count: 10.1 K
A/N: Big thanks to @the-unforgivenn (happy birthday❤️) for all of the help you gave me on this chapter, and honestly this whole fic in general. You've been an invaluable part of the writing process of this story, and the fact that you care so much about Eddie & Ace just makes me feel so loved... you don't even know. Ily wifey✨
Thank you @vintagehellfire for your priceless tattoo knowledge- I hope I did you proud!!
Also thanks to @blueywrites for helping me decide on what Eddie would tattoo on reader back in our Tumblr DMs in June😂 y'all that's how long I've had this scene in my brain. This part of the story has been a long time coming.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Part 5
Fall, 1983
“Rick, are you serious, man?”
“Dead serious, I’ll sell it to you for twenty.”
You caught the tail end of their conversation as you approached the red plastic picnic table in Forest Hills trailer park. Today was the first day of fall, and while it may not have felt like biting cold and crunchy leaves yet, it did feel like flannels tied around waists and long-dead grass that broke beneath the soles of your shoes. You hopped up onto the surface of the table, swinging your feet around to rest beside Eddie where he sat on the bench. 
“Sell what?” you asked, producing three cans of Coke from your bag that you’d brought from home and handing one to each of the boys. Rick had grown accustomed to your presence since the spring, so he actually cracked a smile when he answered your question and nodded in thanks as he accepted the can.
“Munson wants to buy my old tattoo gun.”
Your jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?” you asked Eddie.
He didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “And I’m wondering what the catch is if you’re selling it to me for so cheap.” 
You cracked open your can of soda with a hiss, joining Eddie in his Rick stare-down. “Hmm,” you mused, “I bet he forgot to clean it and it’s staph-infested.”
“Nope,” Rick popped the ‘p’ after taking a swig from his shiny red can. “Never been used, so I can guarantee it’s staph-free. Always meant to use it, but after that brush with the cops I had last month, I don’t want to risk having it.”
You narrowed your eyes at Eddie, trying to discern whether or not he’d thought about the fact that if he bought it, then he would be in possession of paraphernalia for illegal Indiana activities. 
Then again, you knew he smoked weed and that was most definitely against the law as well, and he hadn’t been caught yet. You trusted him not to be stupid enough to get arrested.
You turned your line of questioning on Eddie. “Why on earth do you need a tattoo gun anyway?”
“Well you see, Ace-” Eddie lifted one of your feet up from the bench, straightening your leg and presenting your right shoe- your white converse, half covered in mythical creatures and random doodles that Eddie had slowly been adding to with his fine-tipped Sharpie ever since you’d bought them in early August. “-it seems that I need a canvas for my art, and it won’t be long before I run out of shoe.” 
You quirked an eyebrow. “So now people are the canvas?” 
Eddie held up his arms, bare skin nearly translucent in the afternoon sun. His nearly-too-small Iron Maiden tee showcased just how much bare skin he had to spare along the contours of his limbs. “If by people you mean me, then yeah.” 
“You’re going to tattoo yourself?”
“Yep!”
“Without practicing on someone else first?”
Eddie smirked, “You volunteering?”
You rolled your eyes, but for some odd reason the idea stuck. You decided to play along. 
“Let’s say I am, what would the tattoo be?” 
Eddie hadn’t anticipated this answer. He was so surprised, in fact, that he choked on the soda that he’d just sipped into his mouth before your question. In a cacophony of coughs and wheezes, Eddie managed to regain his composure as you smiled wryly, feeling as though you’d bested him somehow in some small way. To fluster him with something as small as this, something he hadn’t expected. 
“You’re serious? You want a tattoo?” Eddie responded skeptically, before turning away from you to fiddle with his soda can still held in his hands. 
You shrugged, as if he were asking if you wanted a pizza, not a permanent brand inked on your skin. “Why not? I think I’d look pretty badass with a tattoo.” 
You weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold today, but you had a feeling it might be related to the thought of Eddie covered in ink that wound up and down his skin that was making you ache to touch it when it was still naked and peach-pale. You scooched a couple inches down the tabletop to the left, placing your seat directly behind Eddie’s neck. 
Then, in a stroke of something between bravery, stupidity, and need, you carefully slung your legs over Eddie’s shoulders so that they sat in the bends of your knees.
It was a simple gesture- familiar, even. You made a point to lean back a little, bracing your hands behind you on the tabletop so that the apex of your thighs stayed a good distance from the back of Eddie’s neck. You felt Eddie’s shoulders stiffen, each muscle under your jeans tensing for a moment before relaxing into the closeness. 
Then Eddie brought his hands to your ankles, his fingertips brushing the spare skin between your high tops and the cuffs of your jeans. The pads of his thumbs barely caressed the skin but they felt like a kiss- a thing coveted and then forbidden, then coveted even more. 
His touch drifted over your legs, warm hands coming to rest over your shins and squeeze, heating the denim that separated his skin from yours. You were holding your breath. You’d been so confident a second ago yet here he was, knocking the very air from your lungs. 
You waited anxiously for him to say something; if he didn’t you were sure you were going to do something stupid. Something that would involve more of his skin on your skin.
“Would you want this tattoo of yours to show?” Eddie asked at last, breaking the silence between the two of you- well, the three of you. Rick was still there, taking in the sight before him with a smirk on his face. 
“Not easily, my parents would kill me.” you said, ensuring that your tone of voice was nonchalant, casual. “But I don’t see the harm in something small that I could hide.” 
Eddie tilted his head back and up, earthen eyes flicking up to yours. “What happened to ‘looking badass’?”
You pursed your lips as you leaned forward, bringing your faces to hover parallel over each other. “You’re saying that taking my pants off to reveal a surprise tatty isn’t badass?”
You watched as Eddie’s eyes flashed darker for a split second- nearly imperceptibly so- before his lips stretched sinfully into a mischievous grin. “Oh, under the pants then, huh?” 
His hands traced higher, ghosting on your knees and burning his fingerprints through your jeans. 
“Easy to hide,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “It’s a practical placement.”
Eddie’s thumbs stroked absentminded circles into the flesh of your lower thighs, tight denim puckering with the motion. “Practical placement…” he murmured, low enough that it sounded like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud. 
“You could put it on your hip.”
Both of your heads whipped around to focus on Rick, who was grinning at both of you like he’d just discovered a fun new game to play. He shrugged, hopping up to sit beside you on the tabletop. “You want it to be hidden all of the time, right?” he leaned to shove you congenially with his shoulder. “When’s a good girl like you gonna be showing off some hip? I bet the only one who’ll see that will already be married to you when he lays eyes on-”
“Hey!” you interjected. “You act like I’m some prude, I’m not a nun.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at Eddie hoping to meet his gaze and laugh together over how ridiculous Rick was being. However, you looked down only to find Eddie’s chocolate browns trained on Rick with wide-eyed warning. A silent message was clearly being exchanged, but it wasn’t for you.
Rick was smiling smugly down at Eddie, unbeknownst to you, and Eddie was getting the message loud and clear:
It’s time to raise the stakes, kid. 
“Perfect!” Rick chirped, smug eyes still trained on Eddie’s. “So you wouldn’t mind letting Eddie use your hip as his, uh… canvas, then?”
If Eddie’s looks could kill, Rick would be a dead man. 
“Yeah.” you choked out, refusing to give yourself time to chicken out of what you’d gotten yourself into. “Yeah, why not?”
***
Rainy days in autumn just felt right.
Sure, you were in Latin class. Sure, you were supposed to be working on a packet the substitute teacher had just passed out. However, it was raining outside. The sub was easygoing enough that she hadn’t made a move to stop Eddie from doodling on your shoe that was perched comfortably on the crook of his hip. 
You sat behind him in every class you had together- there were four of them this year- and Eddie had gotten into the habit of reaching back to tap you on the leg whenever he knew he was losing focus. Every time he tapped, you would carefully stretch your leg forward until his hand caught on your ankle, lifting it up until it rested on his lap. His sharpie would go to work on whatever blank spots he could still find on your white converse, and the mindless activity of his drawing would keep his mind awake enough to listen as teachers droned on and on. 
The change in Eddie wasn’t lost on his teachers- they had all noticed the impact that your company seemed to have on him, and it was the only reason why they hadn’t had any issues with your constant companionship. When you were around, Eddie actually paid attention in his classes and turned in work- that was good enough for them.
The silence of the classroom and the soundtrack of rainfall beating against the roof and windows had created the perfect work zone for you, and your focus on your classwork was only interrupted when you noticed a folded piece of torn notebook paper on the edge of your desk. 
Smirking as you felt Eddie continue doodling on your shoe, you unfolded the paper and read the slanted scrawl that you’d come to recognize instantly as Eddie’s handwriting. 
Were you serious about the tattoo thing? It’s OK if you’re not.
Your cheeks heated, contemplating whether you were still serious about it or not. The only fears you had about it were completely logical- Eddie had literally no clue what he was doing. Yours would only be his second tattoo after his own. Worst case scenario, the tattoo would get infected and you go to the hospital. Eddie gets arrested for tattooing without a medical license. Best case scenario… you get to sit there while he grips your naked thigh for as long as it takes to leave a permanent reminder of him on your hip. 
You blinked a couple of times, letting that mental image wash over you, before confidently penning your answer beneath his message. 
I’m serious. 
Folding the scrap of paper and handing it back to him, you felt his Sharpie leave your shoe as he took the note and read it. You watched him register the two words, glance back at you through the loose strands of hair that hung over his shoulder, then smile softly into a shake of his head. A second later, he was handing the note back to you.
If you say so, Ace. What am I tattooing, and where?
You had to think about it for a moment before passing back your answer
Hip is fine. What are you gonna do? We could match.
Eddie’s reply came faster than you’d ever seen him write any of his notes in class, that’s for damn sure.
You want matching tattoos?? Are you sure?
Your heart began to race. Was that bad? Was he judging you for wanting to match him? Maybe you were being too clingy, trying too hard… you glanced down at his jacket, which was wrapped around you almost every day at this point- it was practically a second skin. His handwriting was all over your shoes. You stared at your fingers, scarlet polish chipping from the tips of your nails, and you remembered that you’d chosen red solely because he’d mentioned it was his favorite color. 
Were you coming across as desperate? Were you weirding him out? Maybe you needed to dial it back-
A new piece of paper slid across your desk, Eddie’s eyes glancing your way with nothing but warmth in his gaze before he returned his attention to your shoe on his lap. 
I’m fine with it if you are. 
Putting bats on my forearm. 
You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, giving ways for butterflies to take flight inside your chest. You grinned, jotting down your reply beneath his writing. 
I’m more than fine with it. 
Could you do just one little bat on my hip?
Eddie took a little longer this time with his response, and you understood why once you saw the adorably small silhouette of a bat penned in black on the paper he’d passed back to you. 
You leaned forward, letting your chin nearly brush the fabric of his denim jacket as you whispered low enough that the substitute teacher wouldn’t hear. 
“It’s perfect.”
A snicker from the other side of the classroom caught your ear. Eddie and you both turned to see a cluster of letter-jacketed assholes staring at the two of you, whispering and laughing with each other. 
You knew deep down that you didn’t care what they thought. You knew that you should just keep your head down. Ignore them. 
But then you caught the tail end of one of their sentences.
“...fucking freaks.”
Two things happened simultaneously: your eyebrows jumped, and Eddie’s stomach dropped.
The ringing of the bell was all you needed to angrily shove your belongings into your backpack and march over to the other side of the classroom, stopping the jocks in their tracks. Eddie was right behind you, tugging you back by the crook of your elbow as you steadily ignored his pleas to sit down and ignore them, they aren’t worth it.
“You want to repeat what you were saying over there, Alan?” You stared up at the freckled boy, his harsh features sneering down at you from where he stood nearly half a foot taller than you. His height did nothing to deter you, however. Neither did Eddie’s death grip on your arm.
Alan snorted, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you before him. His eyes flicked over you, appraising for about two seconds before directing his attention to Eddie behind you. “You letting your girl pick your fights for you now, Munson?” 
Eddie didn’t have a chance to respond; you didn’t give him one. “Don’t look at him.” you stepped forward, bringing you mere inches from the freckled football star. “I asked you a question.”
Alan and his cronies laughed, apparently amused by the show of dominance you were trying to make. You opened your mouth to berate him further, but the sharp tug on your arm from Eddie was strong enough this time to jerk you away from them and toward the door of the classroom. 
“Wh- Eddie, quit it!” you tried to shake off his grip but it wasn’t going to budge; Eddie marched you out the door and down the hallway like a man on a mission. 
“Yeah, Eddie, quit it!” You both could hear Alan’s patronizing whine from the classroom, his voice thrown into a reedy falsetto that made your blood boil. His voice trailed off, melting into the nasal snickers of his friends.
Eddie didn’t let go of your arm until the two of you reached his locker, at which point he finally looked you in the eye- and his stare embodied an intensity that you hadn’t seen from him ever before. You’d seen him intense, of course… just not like this. 
This looked like fear. 
“What the fuck was that for?” Eddie bit out, his teeth clenched and eyes wide. 
You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. Had you messed up, somehow? “I… I mean, they were calling us names, I wasn’t going to just sit there.”
“Alan’s an illiterate asshole, you don’t need to explain yourself to him.”
“I know I don’t need to, but…” You chuckled humorlessly, that familiar vengeful feeling from moments ago beginning to bubble back up. “You know what, no. I do need to. I’m not the kind of person who can just sit there while jerks like him run around slandering good people, it’s wrong!”
Eddie huffed, his hands on his hips as he glanced around and shook his head. “Slandering, huh? That’s a big word, Ace. What’s that, the college word of the day?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him closely and curiously. 
He was fidgeting nonstop, repeatedly picking up his feet and replacing them on the floor only an inch or so away from where they’d been before. His eyes darted in every direction, as if scanning for potential threats so that he could run from them before they decided to pounce. 
“Eddie, why are you so afraid of those guys?” 
Big brown eyes widened to saucers, refocusing on you. “This isn’t fear, Ace, it’s just common sense.” Eddie checked over his shoulder to ensure the jocks were gone, then took a step closer. He leaned his shoulder against the locker, lifting his opposite arm to gently place his hand on your upper arm. You shivered, feeling his thumb trace small circles through his own black leather. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared all of a sudden, you pondered, leaning closer to Eddie. He’s given me his armor. 
You lowered your voice, sympathetic to Eddie’s plight. “You know I wouldn’t let them hurt you, Eds.” Looking up into his eyes, you expected to see them soften, gratitude coating his gaze. Instead, they widened and crinkled slightly at the edges. Eddie huffed out a gaudy laugh, incredulous at your admission.
“Hurt me?” he shook his head, stunned, and began to rifle through his locker for the books he needed for next class. “Ace, I just don’t want them to hurt you!”
You balked. “Me?” an eyebrow raised, you crossed your arms over your chest, defensive once again. “You really think they’d hit a girl? They’re jerks but I don’t think they’d go that far-”
“Nah, they’ll only sick their girlfriends on you.” Eddie punctuated his sentence with a slam of his locker door. “Purebred harpies with matching scrunchies who’ll make your life a living hell and then pretend that you’re the crazy one.”
It was a struggle to keep up with him at the rate he was walking, strides each a yard wide as he tugged you along by your hand. 
Your hand. Eddie Munson was holding your hand. 
“You, uh… you speaking from experience?” You stuttered over your words, cheeks heating at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He had just admitted that he didn’t want to see you get hurt- his blatant protectiveness of you coupled with the way he was decisively dragging you by the hand to your locker right now was nearly too much for you to handle. 
“Trust me,” Eddie sighed, swinging you around as he reached your locker and (to your dismay) letting go of your hand. “You get asked out on a dare enough times, you figure out how their coven operates.” 
Eddie wasn’t meeting your eyes. You had to actually place your hand on his shoulder to capture his gaze. “Eddie,” you said, making a conscious effort to keep your voice steady and be something stable for him to feel at least a little grounded on. “Deep breath.”
Surprisingly, he did as you said. Eddie closed his eyes, inhaling deep and allowing his lungs to fill long enough that his chest expanded before his exhale blew softly on your cheeks. It smelled like the apple you’d brought for him at lunch.
 When you were once again treated to that warm hazelnut gaze, your hand acted without thinking and flew up to gently rest against his jawline. You were crossing some invisible line- you knew that- but the light in the hallway was causing shadows to take up residence in the dusting of whiskers that decorated the sharp incline that led to his chin. Your fingertips brushed his skin reverently, and he seemed frozen. Eddie didn’t dare move; you were like a butterfly that had deigned to land on him of all people, and damn it all if he was going to fuck it up and scare you off. 
“I’ve got you, you’ve got me… right?” Your voice was barely loud enough to be heard through the noise of bustling students. “We look out for each other, Eddie, we’re stronger together.” 
Eddie remained still under your caress, wishing he could focus on your touch. Wishing he could rip his eyes away from where they were trained behind you- held in terrified contact with a sadistic-looking Alan who stood with his cherry-lipsticked girlfriend across the hallway. Alan’s lips were curled into a sneer, watching as the thing that Eddie wanted most became his worst nightmare.
You were openly touching him, while wearing his clothes, standing in shoes covered with his drawings- and Eddie watched in horror as the harpy pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Alan’s ear before both of them refocused not on Eddie, but on you. 
They laughed like fucking heyenas, eyeing their next meal. 
It took every ounce of self control Eddie had, but he gently took your hand in his and lowered it from his cheek. He ignored the way your eyes gazed up at him the same way a scorned puppy begged for some kind of affection, any confirmation that they are, indeed, loved. 
“It’s the together part I’m worried about, Ace.” Eddie whispered, keeping his voice low. 
You were quiet, which Eddie hated because it was his fault.
“Oh, and um-” Eddie raised his shoulders and shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms to warm himself with the friction. “-it’s a little chilly today… you mind if I wear the jacket?” His hand drifted down to the flannel that hung loosely tied around your waist, taking a corner of the material and feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.
“This’ll keep you warm, yeah?” 
You stared blankly for a moment, stunned. You had nearly forgotten that the jacket was his to take. You’d assumed he liked that you always wore his jacket, but… perhaps you’d made that up. You were eager for him to want things like that, after all… ‘more than friends’ kinds of things. However, asking for a borrowed item to be returned was completely normal for friends. You chided yourself for reading too much into it and smiled warmly up at him.
“Yeah! Of course!” you sprung into action, setting your backpack down on the floor as you began to shrug off the jacket. “You’re right it’s frigid in here today.” 
You handed the jacket to Eddie, who donned it with a thin-lipped smile. Parting ways for your next class, you departed in opposite directions down the hallway. 
Upon arriving in your calculus class, you glanced out the window eager to zone out as you watched the rain, only to be greeted by a gray sky drained of its water. The rain’s reprieve left nothing in its wake but a tired sun, soft mist that obscured all surety, and packed Indiana dirt softened to mud too loose for one to find their footing. 
The sort of mud that, should you try to walk through it, you’d be destined to slip and fall. 
***
When Eddie thought of Halloween, he thought of blood and sugar. 
It was a strange contradiction, the way that Halloween’s association with horror and gore had balanced itself out with candy corn and fun-sized Snickers bars, and yet the juxtaposition of the two brought a smile to his face. The combination of sweet and terrifying embodied the holiday perfectly. On Halloween, there was no need for any kind of steely exterior that might protect him from judgment. No need to hide the way he really feels behind the scary metalhead armor he’d so carefully curated as a defense mechanism. 
On Halloween, he wasn’t just allowed to be a freak. He was celebrated for it. 
On Halloween, he could just be. 
It was the reason why Halloween just so happened to be the day he’d had enough courage to look through your bedroom window exactly four years ago. It’s the day when Hell meets Heaven to make something sweet, and anything can happen.
Anything- including matching tattoos on the floor of his trailer. 
Everything was ready- Eddie had laid out sheets of newspaper to cover what he’d deemed the tattoo zone, and broken down a cardboard box to act as a stable surface on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie had scrutinized every instruction he’d been able to wrench from Rick for how to work the tattoo machine. Grips, needles, fucking rubber bands that were apparently very necessary… he’d made sure he had it all. He’d even practiced on an orange that he’d swiped from the kitchen counter.
A thick black cable now snaked across his carpeted floor, connecting the machine to a pedal, the pedal to a power supply, and the power supply to the yellowed plastic outlet on his wall. Beside the machine sat a stack of paper towels and all sorts of other shit Rick had advised him to make sure he used. He was lucky that Rick had bought a bottle of black ink- Eddie wouldn’t have known where to seek out medical-grade ink in a state where it was illegal to ink your skin without a license. 
Your knock at his door made Eddie jump; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It would be easy to write his nerves off as adrenaline before his first tattoo, but who was he kidding- it was you. You’d gone from someone who made him nervous to someone who made him nervous for different reasons, and all of this was very inconvenient for Eddie. 
“Trick or Treat,” You’d chirped when he opened the door, and it was at that moment Eddie realized that this night may very well be the death of him.
You wore your favorite baggy sweater over a tight black tank top, which you’d tucked into some high waisted acid washed jeans. Unsurprisingly, the chucks on which he’d scribbled his claim were fastened securely on your feet. In your hands was a variety pack of halloween candies and a shopping bag from the local drugstore. Everything about you radiated warmth, and Eddie had to fight the urge to change tonight’s itinerary to movies and a blanket fort and spend the whole evening on the couch with you, surrounded by candy wrappers and the light of his television set. 
“I brought antibacterial soap,” you said, bringing Eddie back to reality. You rifled through your shopping bag to show him your spoils as you stepped through the threshold and into his trailer. “-large bandages, and a little travel first aid kit just in case. Oh, and I did a little bit of reading at the library and I couldn’t find much on tattoos, but the one commonality between every book and article I could find said to make sure you wash the wound often and disinfect everything-”
“Ace,” Eddie interrupted, taking the bag from you and closing the front door. The corner of his mouth quirked up, keeping an amused chuckle at bay. “You went to the library to read about how to safely care for an illegal tattoo?” Your expression soured, shifting to a half-scowl, half-pout. 
“Well one of us has got to do it,” you huffed, grabbing the bag and marching towards Eddie’s room. “And I know you wouldn’t set foot in the library unless you were forced.” You continued to yell at him from his room, “You’ll thank me when your kitchen-scratched tattoo doesn’t get infected, and you get to grow old with all of your limbs intact!”
Eddie stayed glued to his spot as his smirk grew into a goofy grin. You were fucking adorable. 
You hadn’t argued when Eddie insisted that he start with his own tattoo- before he got started on permanently marking your skin, he wanted to be sure that he at least had gotten the hang of it first. He immediately started getting to work with his trusty fine-tipped Sharpie, sketching out a scattering of bats on his forearm and glancing every once in a while at his notebook for reference. You’d flipped through that notebook on several occasions when the two of you had sat idle during classes or study sessions. The drawings were always sprawling, sharp and gruesome in a way that wasn’t so much scary as it was fascinating to you. 
You laid stomach-down on his mattress, positioned behind where he sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the bed frame and close enough that you could probably reach down and play with his hair if you were bold enough. You didn’t- no matter how tempting it was, you didn’t want to risk anything that might mess up his focus. You settled for watching Eddie’s reflection in the mirror that sat leaned up against the wall in front of him. 
When the Sharpie stencil had dried and Eddie picked up the tattoo machine, you couldn’t deny the nervous uptake in your heart rate. You watched him gingerly begin the process of permanently inking his drawing into his skin, and before the needle touched skin, Eddie looked over his shoulder at you and winked, whispering a surprisingly shaky “Point of no return.” Before you could ask if he was having second thoughts, he was already outlining the first bat, his socked foot pressing decisively on the pedal that whirred his machine to life. 
Minutes ticked by before you uttered a soft “Does it hurt?” to break the awkward silence. Normally, Eddie had some sort of music playing, Metallica or WASP or something along those lines spinning on his cheap old turntable- but tonight there was nothing but the electric buzz that filled the small bedroom, and it was starting to make you antsy. 
Eddie huffed, and it was as much of a laugh as he could afford while holding still. “Well, Ace, it’s a needle sticking in and out of my arm repeatedly, so if I’m being honest it ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.” You watched him wince as he moved on from outlining the first bat and started on the second. 
“Does it at least make you feel a little badass?” You watched his reflection in the mirror glance up through the curtain of his hair and raise an eyebrow at you. 
“That depends,” He said, “do I look badass?” 
“A little.” You teased. “You’ll look more badass when the tattoo is finished.” 
That earned you a snort from him. “What, fifty percent of a tattoo doesn’t cut it?” His reflection flashed you a genuine smile, that lopsided grin affecting you the way it always does, spiking your body temp and rushing the thump of your heart. 
“Nope. Though, if your intention is to tell the world that you have commitment issues-”
“I do not have commitment issues-”
“Then what kind of issues do you have?” 
Eddie parted the needle from his skin, taking a moment to glance wryly over his shoulder in your direction. 
“You.” It was punctuated by a tongue that peeked out from between his lips. You followed suit, shoulders shaking as you chuckled.
Silence threatened to fall for a moment then, but Eddie put a stop to that. “Keep talking.”
“Huh?”
His voice was quiet, muttered like he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. “Hurts less when we’re talking.”
You smiled, watching as he avoided your eye contact in the mirror, focusing on his arm as a subtle blush began to creep onto his cheeks. Tempting as it was to tease, you opted for a more neutral topic.
“Which is better, sour candy or chocolate?”
You could barely see his eyebrows furrow behind his curtain of curls as he considered your question. “Chocolate.”
“You’re crazy.”
He barked out a laugh. “After all the ridiculous shit I’ve said, that’s what crosses the line for you?”
You shook your head, amping up your reaction for his benefit; he was laughing, and it was music to your ears. You were greedy for more of it. 
“Sour candy is a whole experience, chocolate is just sweet! That’s all it has going for it!”
Eddie gawked but kept his eyes trained on his skin. “What do you have against sweets?”
You rolled your eyes, flopping from your stomach to your back and staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling. “I haven’t got anything against sweets… I just like a little tart to go with it. Oh hang on, that reminds me-”
You stuck your hand into the plastic bag you’d brought with you, producing a variety pack of cheap Halloween candies. “Do you normally get trick-or-treaters? I thought we could pour these into a bowl and set it out on the porch- you know, so we don’t have to keep answering the door.”
Eddie Shook his head. “Nah, not a lot of kids who live here. Those who do always high-tail it to the neighborhoods where the good shit is, like-”
“Loch Nora?” you finished, smirking. 
Nodding his approval, Eddie echoed, “Loch Nora.”
“Well in that case,” you yanked open the bag of candy so hard that a few individually wrapped pieces were flung onto the bedspread as well as the floor below. “I guess we’ll have to eat all of this ourselves.”
Eddie paused his tattooing to glance at a fun-sized packet of sour gummy worms that had landed on the carpet beside him. “Gummy worms?” he asked.
You flicked the back of his head while the needle was off his skin. “Uh, yeah, they’re delicious.”
“Did you at least get candy corn?”
You gagged. “Candy corn?!”
The two of you passed the next hour like that, debating about various arbitrary topics and inevitably disagreeing on almost all of them. There were only three things that you both agreed on without any debate whatsoever: Santa Claus was the superior holiday mascot, Joan Jett could easily beat Cyndi Lauper in a fight, and The Empire Strikes Back was way better than A New Hope.
When Eddie was finally finished with his tattoo, you were off the bed in an instant and already reaching for the antibacterial soap. 
“You should wash it under some warm water first before anything gross has a chance to get in there-”
“Hey hey hey, whoa hold on!” Eddie was laughing, eyes wide as he smiled at you. Your hand was already encircled around his wrist, tugging his arm (and the person attached to it) toward the bathroom. “Ace, you haven’t even looked at it yet, c’mon you’re bruising the artist’s ego here.” 
You sighed but couldn’t hide the rueful grin that danced on your pursed lips. Softening your vice like grip on his wrist, you shifted your hands to cradle his forearm and survey the last hour’s work.
“It looks good, Eddie… really good, actually.” You absently swiped a thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. “If you’d told me it was professionally done, I’d totally believe you.”
“Yeah?” He looked up from where your thumb stroked the base of his forearm, eyes shining.
“Yeah,” you smirked. “Of course, I’d tell you to try and get your money back, but-”
“Oh shove it up your ass, Sweet Tart.” The playful shoulder-check had you letting go of his arm, but both of your faces were painted with ear-to-ear smiles. 
Eddie washed his new tattoo in the bathroom sink, admiring the way the bats stretched and shifted with every flex of his forearm. Your mouth hurt, as did the muscles in your cheeks; you couldn’t stop smiling. He was so happy with his work, and you had to admit that he had actually done a really good job with that tattoo machine. 
“We’ve got to get you out of Indiana, Munson,” you murmured to the mirror where he continued to scrutinize his work from every angle. “I think you may have just found your calling.” 
His eyes were wide and shining with pride as they glanced your way. “You think?” 
You nodded, that saccharine smile stubbornly staying put on your lips. To be fair, you didn’t fight it.
“You’re coming with me, then.” Eddie replied, his own smile glowing in the dying light above the bathroom mirror.
There it was- that familiar fire beneath the skin of your cheeks.
“Oh I am, huh?” 
“Hell yeah.” Eddie braced his arm on the doorway, leaning over you until your faces were mere inches apart. “We’re stronger together, remember?”
Breathe. Breathe… Why can’t you breathe?
You’d barely managed a nod before Eddie was ducking around you through the doorway, grabbing your hand, and leading you back to his room. 
“Your turn, Ace.”
Oh yeah, you were also getting a tattoo today. You’d almost forgotten. Were you nervous? You weren’t sure. Actually, yes, you were very nervous- not so much about the tattoo as you were for where the tattoo would be. 
In minutes, you were both sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor- Eddie readying everything he needed for your new ink, and you sitting eerily still as your soul started to feel like it might leave your body.
“Ace,”
Eyes refocusing, you blinked a few times. “Yeah?”
Eddie’s expression was calm, sympathetic to the inward freak-out he had a feeling you were on the verge of. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”
You tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little more strained than you had intended. “Hah…you saying I have commitment issues?”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, but Eddie’s eyebrows stayed knitted together above his big brown eyes. “No,” he murmured. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking to a stray animal and trying not to spook it. “I guess I’m just… trying to give you an out, so you don’t feel pressured or anything.”
You shook your head, “I don’t want an out.”
Eddie blinked, “No?”
“No.”
There was a second of silence between the two of you before you both took in a collective breath, exhaling simultaneously and giggling when you both realized that you were breathing in sync. Perfect harmony; sour and sweet, nervous but willing. 
“You, uh…” Eddie stammered, his eyes flicking down to your lap and back up to your face. “...you still want it on your hip?”
Your heart rate doubled. 
“Um, yeah.” you awkwardly shifted your weight onto your knees, grabbing hold of your waistband and unbuttoning your shorts. You shimmied them over your hips, revealing the rest of your leotard- leotard, Eddie realized. Not a tank top. You were wearing a black leotard. It was almost like the kind that he’d seen ballerinas wear, except it cut so high on your hips that he was sure it wouldn’t be allowed in any of the dance studios he could think of, and….yep. YEP, it was practically a thong. Your ass was out. You were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with your ass out. 
Chill out, Munson! He screamed inwardly at himself, Chill the fuck out!
Of course, you couldn’t tell that there was a war going on between Eddie’s ability to function and the short-circuiting that threatened to render him unable to do anything but stare at you. All you could see was the way his jaw had gone slack and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.
You smiled shyly, a twinge of something between satisfaction and guilt nudging at your heartstrings. “I figured this thing would be less awkward than if I was sitting here in my underwear,” you laughed nervously as you gestured to your leotard.
Eddie gulped. He couldn’t see much of a difference. “Yeah, totally.” 
A beat passed. You grabbed a bag of gummy worms from the floor, tearing it open with a crinkle of the plastic that would not have been so loud if the two of you weren’t dead silent. You bit into the candy where the color changed from pink to blue, then finally muttered through your chewing, “Ready when you are.” 
Eddie blinked rapidly, taking his Sharpie in his hands. “Uh, yeah… yeah, okay.” 
With your free hand, you pointed to the part of your hip where your flesh naturally creased as your thigh met your pelvis. 
“Is here good?”
Eddie gulped. 
“Yeah, that’s good.” But Eddie was very much not good. He was the opposite of good, he felt like he was malfunctioning. When he placed his free hand on your upper thigh, he almost apologized. Why the hell did he feel like he had to apologize? He had no clue. His palms were sweating- did you feel how sweaty his palms were? Oh god. He forgot what a bat looked like- you were trusting his artistic skills enough for him to permanently ink his drawing into your skin and he couldn’t even remember what a goddamn bat looked li- oh, wait, he had them on his own forearm now. Eddie glanced at his arm, reminding himself what a goddamn bat looked like. 
He’s never felt like more of a nervous idiot than right now. 
Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to explode.
His hand was warm. So warm as he grasped your thigh. Whenever he’d touched you before, there was always a barrier, some form of separation between his skin and yours- jeans, a sweater, a flannel. 
A leather jacket.
That’s right- he had taken his jacket back. Maybe you were reading too deep into things, but you had this unshakable feeling that taking back that jacket had been a message. 
We’re just friends. Nothing more.
But if that was true, then why was he looking at your thighs the way he was? Why had he looked at you the way he did when he said you should go with him when he leaves Hawkins? 
He wasn’t your boyfriend… you knew that.
So why couldn’t you shake this undeniably girlfriendish ache in your chest?
“Okay.” Eddie’s voice jolted you out of your downward spiral into your very inconvenient feelings. “Check that out in the mirror, make sure you like it.”
You straightened up, walking on your knees until you faced the mirror leaning against the wall and inspected the tiny, perfect little bat that he’d drawn on the fullest part of your hip.
It matched the bats that now decorated his arm, now surrounded by an angry red halo that bloomed across his skin. Once that bat was inked, it would be something connecting you and Eddie forever- a shared experience, a secret that the two of you would always be in on. 
Suddenly, you realized that in this moment there wasn’t a single thing you wanted more than a matching tattoo with Eddie Munson.
Well, there was one thing. But you had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight. The tattoo, however…
“I love it.” You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, but his eyes were a little too busy staring at your practically naked behind to meet your gaze. 
“Ahem.”
Breaking free of his trance, Eddie shook his head a tad, which drew a small chuckle from your smirking lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too, albeit more shyly than you.
“Distracted?” You teased, unable to hold back your glee at this kind of attention- any kind of attention- from Eddie. 
He sighed, blinking rapidly while he finally met your eyes. There was something new in the way he was looking at you- if you didn’t know better you might call it frustration, but it was an amused sort of frustration. Almost like his eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” but through sunglasses tinted with desire. 
You wanted to bottle that, stow it away for emergencies. Wanted to preserve the way that gaze made you feel so that you could experience it over and over again. 
“No.” Eddie murmured through a rueful grin. “Lie down, it’ll be easier to ink the skin while it’s flat.” You did as he instructed, feeling the crinkle of newspaper underneath the skin of your rear. Once again, you found yourself staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling until his face came into view, looking down at you as he readied the tattoo machine. 
“Are you?” You heard him ask. 
You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
The pads of Eddie’s fingers poked and prodded at the skin around where your tattoo would soon have an indefinite spot on your hip, and you wondered if he could tell that your temperature shot up ten degrees each time you felt his hands on you.
“Are you distracted?” he clarified. “Because it hurts less when you’ve got something else to focus on.” 
“Oh.” Suddenly, your mind went blank. Of course, the moment you wanted something to distract you, all ideas turned tail and ran. “Um…”
Snap!
Your jaw dropped as the elastic of your leotard snapped back to your skin from where Eddie had pulled it away with his pointer finger. “Where’d you even get this thing?” 
Now it was your turn to short-circuit.
“Uh-” You stammered, interrupted by the machine beginning to buzz. 
Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish your thought before reminding you what he’d asked. “C’mon, Sweet Tart, where’d you get the leotard?”
You knew he was trying to distract you so you didn’t feel the pain, but you couldn’t help the tensing of your muscles as the needle pierced your skin. You winced, staring at the water stain with a newfound intensity. “Dance store.” you gritted through lips that formed a tight line. 
“Dance store, huh?” You could hear the smile through Eddie’s words. “And why were you in a dance store?”
You huffed out a short, breathy laugh, careful to keep your hip still as Eddie’s needle continued to do its work. “I was making a Flashdance costume. Heard about this Halloween party a few weeks ago, but then we made the tattoo plans… and I had already bought the leotard, so…”
It was disconcerting to speak with Eddie without looking at him; he was a very expressive person, always talking with his hands, always making sure that he looked you in the eyes when you spoke to him. But now he was focused on his work on your hip, leaving your eyes to shift between staring at his ceiling and fluttering closed.
“You were going to wear this thing to a party?” he asked, incredulous. 
Your eyebrows wrinkled over your closed eyes. “I would’ve worn tights under it…” 
He snorted. “That wouldn’t have made a difference.”
You winced, groaning as the needle hit a nerve that particularly stung. “What- ah, shit- what are you trying to say?” 
The buzzing stopped for a moment. “Fuck, you okay?” Eddie’s face leaned into your field of vision, his frizzy brown hair backlit into a halo by the light from the lamp behind him. “You want to take a break?”
You shook your head, taking a mental snapshot of how ethereal he looked like this. “No, you can keep going, I’m fine.” 
Cautiously, Eddie got back to work. A few wordless seconds ticked by before you spoke. 
“What did you mean, ‘that wouldn’t have made a difference’?”
Eddie’s reply was matter-of-fact, but you could have sworn that you heard a hint of protectiveness in his voice when he said, “Tights or no tights, the whole party would have been staring at your ass, Sweet Tart.”
The “T” sound in “Tart” was soft this time. So soft, it was barely there at all, and it almost sounded like he’d just called you sweetheart. If only. You’d give anything to be Eddie’s sweetheart.
Whether he’d meant to blend that consonant or not, it made you brave. “Is that a bad thing?”
A pause. Then, “Is this a trap?”
“Answer the question, would a bunch of people staring at my ass be a bad thing?”
Eddie sighed. “This is definitely a trap,” he muttered, before replying “No, Ace, objectively it would not be a bad thing. But sometimes people view girls differently when they walk around with their asses out.”
“Do you look at me differently when my ass is out?” You were being cheeky, you knew it. 
“No, I don’t look at you differently.” came his instant response, muttered through nearly-closed lips. “I just look at you.”
Nothing could stand against your smile, not even you. “Yeah, that much I could see in the mirror.”
“You don’t sound too upset about that.”
This was different from the flirting you were used to with Eddie. Your regular flavor of flirtation had always been surface-level banter; nothing past a jab here and there, a joke at his expense or a nickname thrown your way. 
Now? You were talking about the way he looked at your body, and the fact that he could tell that you liked when he looked. The two of you were in uncharted territory, and you buzzed under his touch in time with the inky needle at the beautiful unknown of it all. 
“Okay, the outline is done but I’m about to start filling it in.” Eddie warned. “This part hurts a little more. You wanna take a break?”
You nodded. While Eddie jumped up to get you both a glass of water, you sat up on your elbows and peered over at your hip to get a look at your new ink. When you saw it, you gasped so fervently that you startled yourself.
It was perfect. The perfect little bat. 
It wasn’t completely symmetrical. The outline was a tad thicker in certain places than others. But those imperfections made it his. And the fact that it was on your skin made it yours. 
You couldn’t wait to wake up and stare at it like this every single day. 
Eddie returned a moment later with two mismatched cups of tap water. Once you’d both rehydrated, he got to work replacing the needle at the end of the machine with a new one, as well as changing out various attachments and fiddling with a knobby-looking piece until he seemed satisfied with what he’d changed.
 You were impressed with how intensely focused Eddie was on this sort of work; it didn’t seem to be taking him long to get the hang of this. It also didn’t take him long to come up with another topic of conversation that teetered on the line between friendly and flirty.
“Ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill?”
You had not, but the title of the game brought an unexpected chuckle out of you. “Edward Munson, I am a lady! At least take me out to dinner first-”
“I’m going to take that as a no.” Eddie chuckled, and you could hear his deadpan in the tone of his voice. “I say three people’s names and you have to tell me which you’d fuck, which you’d marry, and which you’d kill. Comprende?”
“Uhh-” whatever you’d been about to say was cut short by a harsher buzz than before, accompanied by the aggressive sting of needles on your skin. “Mmh, shit, okay yeah sure let’s play.”
Eddie smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure why he loved the little noises and whispered curses that spilled from your mouth while he tattooed you, but he honestly thought they might be the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. You were taking the pain like a champ- he was actually pretty proud of you in this moment as you remained still through the sting.
“Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, and Kirk Hammett”
You rolled your eyes. Eddie had ensured over your many rides in his van this summer that every Metallica song he’d played had been an educational experience. Eddie had picked up a cassette of their debut album in July, and ever since he’d become obsessed. Already, he was trying to persuade the other members of his band to figure out how to play The Four Horsemen by ear. 
Needless to say, you knew enough about the band to at least answer the question. 
“Well I’m killing Lars for sure.”
“Poor Lars never stood a chance.”
You grinned, willing the distraction into something great enough to numb the pain. “And I think I’m gonna have to fuck Hetfield.”
“‘Have to fuck Hetfield,’ such a sacrifice.” 
You carefully stretched your arms up to rest above your shoulders, cradling your head on your hands like a pillow. “Hey, if someone’s got to do it, I’ll take one for the team.”
You heard him snort, then after a moment’s quiet he added, “So you’re marrying Kirk Hammett, then?”
“I guess so.”
“What makes Kirk marriage material? Over the other two, I mean.”
You thought about Kirk Hammett’s wild, dark curls. His build. His brown button eyes. The way he looked holding a guitar.
“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”
Eddie thought about the way he’d been trying to make himself look more like a rockstar ever since he’d first seen the tiny, grainy picture of the Metallica members in the corner of a page of Rolling Stone; he’d been bumming copies off Jeff’s subscription since the seventh grade. How he’d started growing out his hair after seeing Kirk’s long, black mane. He smiled. 
He must be doing something right.
“Alright, Mrs. Hammett,” He quipped, “My turn, hit me with bachelorettes one through three, please.”
You thought over your options, trying to think of women you’d heard him mention before. Wondering if he thought any of them had something in common with you, and praying to God he didn’t kill them.
“Olivia Newton-John,”
Already, Eddie was descending into a fit of giggles. 
“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty!”
Eddie launched into a falsetto rendition of the chorus from Grease’s Hopelessly Devoted to You, and you were instantly fighting the giggles too. 
“Shut up! I’m not done yet. Olivia Newton-John… have you seen Fast Times?”
His response came in a tone of voice that was the vocal equivalent of a side-eye. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I don’t know if you know who Phoebe Cates is.”
“Oh,” Eddie sighed dreamily, “I know who Phoebe Cates is.” 
You rolled your eyes, but chuckled nonetheless. “Okay then- Olivia Newton-John, Phoebe Cates, and Carrie Fisher.”
Eddie barked out a joyous “Ah!” before answering, “Well this is easy, Ace, say goodbye to Newton-John!”
You mock-gasped. “You’re killing Sandy?”
“I’m killing Sandy.”
“That is brutal. She was so innocent, too.”
Eddie squinted at the half-filled tattoo, smirking into his explanation. “Okay, I see the appeal, Ace, I truly do. That outfit at the end is killer.” He paused. Should he say it? Would he be too obvious if he did? 
Ah, fuck it. 
“I’m a sucker for a woman in red shoes, let me tell ya. However-” Eddie quickly glazed over that last sentence, as well as any opening you might have gotten to think about how that might relate to you. “-I’ve gotta fuck Phoebe Cates. Because… y’know-”
“Boobies?” you beat him to the punch.
Eddie confirmed with a matter-of-fact “Boobies.” He glanced up at your face for a moment, curious to see if he could read what you thought of his answers, but you were staring pensively at his ceiling, expression unreadable. “And you have to have known I was marrying Leia the moment she was an option.” 
“You have a thing for Princess Leia?”
“Are you joking?” Eddie asked, incredulously. “How could I not? The woman’s the definition of a spitfire, she kicks ass and takes names. Not to mention, she’s got a thing for scoundrels.” 
You hummed. “Do you think you’re a scoundrel, Eddie?” 
“Well I’m certainly not a scruffy-looking nerf herder, I’ll tell you that much.”
You winced playfully, “A nerf herder you are not… but you are a bit scruffy.”
“You’ve got me there, princess.”
Eddie went silent. The nickname had just slipped out- all this talk of scoundrels and princesses and strong women who weren’t afraid of a fight and before he knew it, he was seeing more similarities between you and Leia than he’d realized were there before. 
Princess had just seemed right. It just slipped out. 
The line between friendship and dangerous territory had been so clearly drawn in Eddie’s mind before tonight. Where had he gone wrong? That once clear line was getting blurry.
Eddie was absolutely convinced that he would probably find a way to single handedly ruin your friendship before he was finished filling in your tattoo- which you would inevitably hate, because it would remind you of the asshole who you used to be friends with before he made things weird between you.
“My turn,” your voice cut through Eddie’s downward spiral, drawing a relieved sigh from him that tickled the skin of your thigh. “Let’s make this round more interesting. Only names of people from Hawkins.”
“Hm, that is interesting.” he mused, the needle inching its way toward the last remaining centimeter of bare skin left within the outline. “Let me think… Chief Hopper-”
You barked out a laugh, “Oh great start, Eds.”
“Chief’s a good looking guy! I don’t know why you’re laughing!” but Eddie was smiling ear to ear, delighted that his awkward apprehension had already begun to dissipate. “Principal Higgins-”
“Are you only going to give me old men as options?”
Eddie was going to do exactly that, because he didn’t want to picture you marrying or- God forbid- fucking any men in Hawkins that you might actually enjoy doing either of those things with. He wasn’t jealous, per se… but none of the shitheads in Hawkins were good enough for you. Eddie wasn’t even good enough for you; not yet, at least. He could picture a future version of himself one day taking his chances with you, once you’d both skipped town and found your way in some thriving city somewhere. 
You were both too good for this place- you were the first person to make him think that about himself.
“What was that security guard’s name at the mall? Average joe looking guy? Quentin? Quincey?”
“Oh, you mean Quinn?”
“Knew his name started with a Q.” Eddie softly bit his bottom lip as he finished the last bit of your bat’s wing. “Hopper, Higgins, and Quinn. Those are your options.”
You groaned. “These choices suck, can I just kill them all?”
“I kinda like it when you go all bloodthirsty, Ace.”
You rolled your eyes before letting them flutter closed. “Ugh, well I’m obviously killing Higgins… he’s never been nice to you and all he cares about are school sports. I guess… I mean if I have to, I’ll fuck Hopper.”
Eddie was beside himself with giggles, “I mean, that’s one way to get out of a speeding ticket.”
“You’re lucky I can’t smack you right now.” You ignored Eddie’s snickering and continued. “And I don’t think I’d mind being married to Quinn, he always smiles at me and asks how my day was. Plus he’s kind of cute, he’s got nice hair.”
Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see it.”
You laughed, and the jingling tone of your voice suddenly sounded too loud as the buzzing of Eddie’s machine stopped. 
“Alright, Ace,” Eddie announced, leaning back to survey his work. “Check out your new ink.”
You didn’t need to look at it again to know it would be perfect, but you looked anyway. You stood on your sleeping legs and gazed at the little black bat on your hip- it sat beautifully balanced on the skin framed by your high cut leotard, and you knew at once that you’d think of Eddie each time you saw it. This was exactly what you wanted- a daily reminder of exactly how he made you feel, of who he was to you. 
At this moment, it dawned on you exactly what it was that Eddie made you feel. The way you always wanted to be around him, and the way he had become a balloon that inflated your chest every time he made you laugh, and how you knew- just knew- that you’d follow him anywhere if he asked. 
You loved Eddie Munson. You were in love with him. 
And you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot at that little asymmetrical bat.
Taglist: @emma77645 , @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92
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parasolemn · 3 months
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doodle of Authority? it is my fav skill...
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ehe. whoopsies! sorry anon it's been. A Month. and no end in sight
anyways images for you
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you can probably already tell some of these are. Older. but yea. there was a lot of "well it's just a doodle I don't need to go super hard on these" and then "this is awful we need to start over" so. there's. a lot of images. most I've drawn this freak ever actually
deserved though. big thanks to my New Buddy who made me see the light like two months ago. he [LONG RAMBLE I DELETED] 🤨 UUGHHH I can't go off on a ramble about authority rn I'm unnormal about him sadly but I have so many words in my brain about him and all the other skills ue ue ue
i should post images...
i did some doodles in my book too when i was working but. eeeh? wasn't really sure if this was what you were after either... also I always take an opportunity to draw encyclopedia hi ency hi. i love throwing ency at the other skills i love thinking about skill interactions
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don't mind the date on the last image I accidentally dated it 1st jan instead of 1st feb and couldn't be fucked to fix it. as I said, Old (can i even say stuff is old if it's a month old. uhm. wll i changed my art style so it counts)
parcark: nobody else is autistic about DE skills like you are they won't want to see them blorbified in an ooc but funny way. also parcark:
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this was not worth a month's wait. oops.
COUGHCOUGH BY THE WAY . volition design is from @tubrasko (this wasnt the image i asked you abt btw i'm doing a larger one than this RN!!!! grins) suggestion design is from @vesli1 sorry for butchering your boy a bit I only had a pen my pencil broke 💔 empathyyy i stole from @trialofasphodel waves at you Hi ! i know both of u have seen these imgs b4 btw srry for re @ ing you the auth and drama designs are froommmm spilledkaleidoscope I won't @ that's scary.cough
love him. ok bye anon !! i hope you don't mind i know these aren't the best quality o7
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accidentwithapen · 2 months
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Hiii!!! GIGS in Space AU Once Again on my mind so heres a quick plot rundown allll put in one post
If you read through this all i love you <3
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If not, have this grian doodle anyways
So Grian, Scar, Impulse, and Skizz are all prisoners in this like,,, dystopian space society. All are imprisoned for different reasons:
- Grian is a vandalist, doing graffiti and setting minor explosions around different government/company sites. When arrested and asked why he does what he does, he claims "it's about the principal"
- Impulse worked as a mechanic for a major company, but an incident resulting in a death and 3 injuries gets wrongfully pinned on him. He still believes that all circumstances surrounding his arrest are just one big misunderstanding. The company, however, doesnt care.
- Skizz is a hacker, and good at it too. He logs into the system of the same company Impulse worked for, and subsequently gets caught red-handed.
- Nobody knows why Scar is arrested. There are many rumors spread around the prison wing that he and Grian are in that Scar is Secretly A Mob Boss for the Con Corp. family. But surely someone so clumsy and silly cant possibly be so powerful, right? thats what Grian thinks, anyways.
So these doofuses have two options.
1. they can serve their sentence rotting in a shitty space prison with Nothing To Do and being forced into manual labor
2. they can get out slightly earlier after enough time spent doing Community Service
They go for the second one, which Happens to be gathering extraterrestrial data for Impulse's old Company (i need a name for it dear god its ridiculous at this point). So after all independently choosing the community service option, they get grouped into a squad of the four of them and get sent out to different semi-abandoned planets to hunt monsters/ghosts/aliens and collect data. What they eventually figure out is that the reason they are given so much freedom with their community service is that they are not intended to survive. They devise an escape plan and on their third mission together, they successfully escape together.
Its important to note that Scar and Grian came from the same cell block, so Grian decides to tell Skizz and Impulse about the mob boss rumors (as a prank, of course), and warns them that Scar Doesn't Like Swearing. basically scaring everyone into facing these cosmic horrors with a PG attitude
So the GIGS escape with a real shitty spacecraft and are on the run from the government (theres no way they're gonna succeed like this) up until they get captured. but not by the government.
They get captured by morally gray, filthy rich, weapons manufacturer Doc. (or his hitman at least, one Geminitay)
Doc explains to the GIGS that he has paid all of their bail fees, and now they must work off their debt to him. as delivery boys.
Doc enlists Gem to look after the GIGS during their deliveries. Gem Does Not Like This but shes not gonna say no to her boss.
Basically the rest of it is a silly stupid sci fi sitcom about funny found family doing goofy delivery missions and learning more about each other along the way.
Oh, and remember those rumors about Scar? Theyre all true. And there are Consequences for his absence in the family....
Heres some extra little character notes:
- While Impulse believes his arrest was a genuine mistake at first, during their second bout of community service, he and skizz discover how little the company actually cares about its employees and Impulse gets real mad that his entire livelihood is a lie and goes ham and wrecks some shit (good for him)
- Gem was taken in by Doc at a very young age, with life-threatening injuries. Doc used his experience with mad sciencery to fix her up with whatever he had on hand, mostly animal parts. now shes a hybrid.
- Gem sees Doc as a father figure, but has No Clue how to express that so from her perspective shes just Really Loyal to her boss and doing nothing more than paying off a life debt.
- Grian has a mycelium infection running up his arm that he keeps secret from everyone else. the first in the group to find out about it is Gem
- Scar uses mobility aids of many varieties, but mostly uses a cane with robotic leg splints on missions
Anyways thats all for now, if you wanna see some more doodles and stuff you can look around my gigs in space tag!!
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inbetweenhours · 1 year
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[EDIT: Changed Mairieth’s face shape, and fixed the Mythlander’s titles]
[Shrub here | Roseblings, Pix, & Pearl here | Joel, Joey, & Katherine here]
So my art style took  withdrawal after finishing that wcsmp full piece so we are in doodle only territory for a hot minute. Did some headcanons for some esmp1 parents :]
I don’t have terribly many actual thoughts about the parents. The twins parents suck but aren’t individually really relevant to anything. Their mother, Queen Mairieth, is a descendant of Alinar and thusly the monarch by blood. Her husband Druindar married into the thrones power. I also 100% forgot Smajors wings and neither his brother or mums somehow,,, damn. His dad is the only wingless one I assure.
I don’t have any thoughts about Sausage’s dad but the fact that his mom is named Fable s very important to me. She also had a lot of impact of Mythlands more recent history regarding woman’s rights and generally instilled the idea of a maiden as a figure of  well placed power. Incredibly powerful and witty woman, love her dearly. and she loves her boy. Taught him lots about grabbing power he seeks...
Finally Angie is my favourite esmp parent if only because I know her very well on a character level where the others are just kinda, names and faces to fill in gaps. Angie plays a big role in my Flower Husbands Arranged Marriage AU that I have a massive outline for but lets be real god only knows if I’ll work on it. Anyways, Angie is very important to me as a ruler, but also as a mother and a source of guidance. She would bun the world for her kids and I think that’s very neat of her <3 
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cupidjyu · 9 months
Text
red flavor
eric x reader (submission for the cutest tbz summer event💕)
summary: your planned summer getaway doesn’t go as expected and it’s only you and eric, your childhood best friend. but, new feelings may just join you on your little vacation
genre: summer time!! beach house, childhood friends to lovers (my absolute fav btw), fluff, eric pining for years, getting together, cute little memories, feelings realization, juyeons just there for a second, slow dancing, slight hurt/comfort, eric's love language is fixing your hair, author is a big red velvet fan if you couldn't tell, love confession notes: this is more of a character/relationship study so if youre expecting a super simple oneshot with lesser description then im sorry🥲 songs mentioned are from this specific summer album LOL word count: 7.8k
Sometimes, you just liked to observe. A lot of people did anyway for various reasons. Some people, like your friend Juyeon, observed for the sake of reading others’ needs and emotions. He was always the one to notice when you were upset and he would hurry to make horrible puns just to make you laugh. 
Other people, like Eric who’s been your best friend since the age when you two couldn’t even reach the kitchen counter, observed for the sake of learning who a person was as a whole. He was the one who took note of your tendency to shift energies and he would adjust his own to match yours.
You, on the other hand, liked to observe simply because what you saw brought you back to the past. You treasured good memories, so being able to see them again in the future brought a sense of joy to your heart like a flickering lightbulb.
In Eric’s room, there was a lot to observe that brought back the past. The broken science project of the solar system because you two were dancing too much late at night, the cut-out superhero mask that was supposed to be Eric’s last-minute Halloween costume in middle school, and the foolish paper heart that sparked it all in the first place.
Sitting on his bed, you then observed your two closest friends. Juyeon was on his phone whilst drinking from a water bottle—which he comically once tripped on that led to his lunch tray and its contents flying into your clothes. But that was how you became friends anyway. Eric was simply doodling in his sketchbook with a small, content smile. Just like he had done on that same paper heart in elementary school.
You felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you were met with a boy, about your age with a backpack on that was much too big for him. He had a kind smile and bright eyes.
And then he shoved a red, paper heart in your hands. Though, it took you a second to realize if it even was one with the edges so raggedly cut.
Bringing it up to your face, you read the large, shaky letters with your newly obtained skill of reading words.
“Will you marry me?”
Young Eric simply had bad comprehension skills. Apparently, he wasn't proposing. He just wanted to become friends.
“How does ‘marry me’ and ‘be my friend’ sound at all similar?” You muttered to yourself. 
Eric looked up and groaned. “You’re still on that? I was a baby back then. A cute one at that.” 
“An annoying one at that.”
Eric was about to argue back but Juyeon had spoken up with his lovely and calm voice.
“Let’s not fight. We have a trip to look forward to.”
The two of you immediately brightened at his reminder—the Summer Getaway. The three of you called it that because you all sucked at coming up with a better name. It was the trip that you had been planning since the first year of high school. The beach house to rent, the seaside to visit, everything already was laid out. And after so many years of fumbling with life and its many obstacles, it was finally happening.
“Tomorrow!” Eric sat up. “You’re all going to witness my dreamy beach boy actor debut.”
Juyeon looked at him, unimpressed. “And who’s the love interest?”
You snorted, turning your gaze over to Eric, only for him to be looking straight at you. Widening your eyes, you stuttered in confusion.
“No one,” He curtly said, turning away suddenly, his ears slightly red.
It was awkwardly silent. Until Juyeon nervously laughed. “What about clothes? Summer outfits?” He rambled. “We have to take a lot of pictures.”
You nodded, smiling excitedly. “I bought some just for this trip actually.” You frowned. “My paycheck practically disappeared.”
Juyeon laughed. “Was it as expensive as your prom outfit?”
Again, memories rushed back to you. More negative this time. With a frustrated sigh, you grimaced. “Let’s not bring that up. It was so bad, I looked horrible.”
Juyeon shook his head sympathetically. But your ears picked up someone else’s voice.
“I think you looked beautiful,” You heard Eric whisper. But maybe you were imagining things. 
“Too bad my date dumped me the day after,” You continued.
“He was horrible for that,” Juyeon remarked.
“That’s why you should’ve taken me,” Eric piped up. He got up to sit next to you on the bed. And to your surprise, his hand gently came up to your hair to smooth it down. But of course, that's what friends did.
You nodded in agreement. “I should have. You looked handsome that day.”
Eric glanced at you briefly and you could catch the sight of his cheeks turning red. “Of course I did,” He stammered. 
“Then why didn’t you ask anyone out for prom?” You questioned. “You went all alone.”
“Because you—“ Eric sighed, hurt flitting across his expression. “Nevermind.”
Juyeon coughed anxiously. “So!” He blurted. “The trip! Let’s talk about the trip tomorrow.”
“Where’s Juyeon?” Eric called out when he noticed you approaching the car. Yes, you prepared so much for the trip that you even had the car inspected and tested the driver—Eric—to make sure he could properly drive without swerving from talking too much. He did talk a lot.
You shrugged, lugging your bag packed with all the things you needed.
“He’s not here yet?” You frowned.
Eric shook his head with a worried look. “Usually he’s the early one.”
You hummed, standing next to him. And then you looked him over. He had dressed differently, his hair swept up nicely and his skin glowed golden in the sun. You wouldn't admit it but he did give off “dreamy beach boy” as corny as it may have sounded.
After a few minutes, you were about to call Juyeon to make sure he didn’t oversleep until you heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, you breathed out a sigh of relief.
“What took you so long?” You complained.
Juyeon furrowed his eyebrows and that was when you realized that he did not have a single piece of luggage with him. 
“I can’t go,” He breathlessly responded.
Eric inhaled sharply. “What?”
“There’s been an emergency,” Juyeon whined. “Involving my cat.”
You pouted knowing very well that Juyeon absolutely adored his cat and would drop anything for the feline, including this trip that you’d all been planning years ago.
“But go without me,” Juyeon rushed to say. “I don’t want to hold you both back.”
The two of you silently stared at him, disappointment and guilt holding grim over your faces. 
“Please.” His eyes softened. “Just make sure to send pictures.”
The car ride that was initially meant to be a karaoke session, turned into a quiet silence. It wasn’t awkward, no, it was never awkward between you and Eric. But it was solemn.
“He did say he’d be fine,” Eric spoke, flipping the right turn signal.
You sighed. “But you know him. He always likes to hide his disappointment.”
Eric shook his head. “He would be more disappointed if he knew we weren’t having fun.”
You thought for a moment. And then you nodded because it was true. You often observed that Juyeon would smile whenever you or Eric would smile first. He was like an older brother to you.
“Okay. Then I’m choosing the first song.” A devilish smile appeared on your lips as you queued up the music.
“Go ahead,” Eric laughed.
When you pressed play, he gasped. He glanced at you with acknowledgment accompanied by a slight wince. “Is this…”
“Mhm,” You giggled. “The song we sang together when we got drunk for the first time?”
“The headache I had after,” Eric groaned. “Never again.” You smiled at the fond memory. 
“And you’re such a clingy drunk.”
“I was not.”
“You literally hugged me and kissed my cheek,” You deadpanned. “You even said—“
Eric had his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a warm back hug, so tight that you could feel his hips and chest pressed up against your back. He smelled faintly of cherry wine and from the corner of your eye, you could see his adorably flushed cheeks and the dazed look in his eyes. “Please, don’t ever leave,” He cried, snuggling his face into your neck. “You’re so special to me.” 
But then again, that’s just what friends say, right? 
Your best friend looked at you in confusion. Ah, he must have forgotten. 
“What did I say?”
“Nothing,” You muttered. Choosing to change the topic, you turned up the volume. And soon enough, you were dancing and singing along to the song like you were on cloud nine. Eric chuckled to himself as he watched you with soft eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips.
You glared playfully. “Eyes on the road, sir.”
Eric rolled his eyes but obliged. For safety, of course. When the song ended, you sat back in your seat and you looked at him. Sometimes you forgot that Eric wasn’t a little boy who played hide and seek with you anymore. He was a man who had grown up to be… fairly attractive. His jawline was sharp now, he was taller, and he had muscles from his endless workouts that you would constantly walk in on him doing. You could see that from the way he had rolled up his sleeves to reveal his forearms, handling the steering wheel with one hand. Taking a gulp, you quickly looked away. What were you thinking?
“Eyes on me?” He lifted an eyebrow, glancing at you teasingly.
You cleared your throat. “No, I— You just look bad today.”
“Mhm,” He hummed smugly. “Sure.”
And for some reason, your cheeks felt unusually warm.
It was a long road trip so naturally, that meant that the evening would come. It was dark out now and the music was long turned off. At some point, you had fallen asleep, the sound of the car engine lulling you easily.
Whilst you were dreaming of a beach house lit naturally by the bright sun, Eric took a glimpse at you. He smiled to himself affectionately, staying quiet. But it faltered when he noticed you shiver from the cool night air. 
Parking to the side for a moment, he reached back to pull out a blanket. Carefully and lovingly, he placed it over you, trying not to wake you up.
But, you always had the tendency to wake up whenever the car was stopped so you felt every single sensation with your eyes still closed. The warmth of his fingertips brushing against your arm, the rhythm of your quickening heartbeat, and… the press of a soft pair of lips on your forehead.
But maybe it was just a dream.
When Eric had started driving, before you dozed off again, you could hear him humming a song. A song that you recognized. A love song.
The house was ten times better than what it looked like in the pictures. The exterior of it looked like it came straight out of those real estate magazines. Palm trees decorated the scene and if you had simply turned around, you would be met with the breathtaking sight of the beach with its clear, almost sparkling ocean. Scrambling to explore the inside, you were surprised to see just how big it was. The ceiling was tall and the interior was embellished with various decorations. 
“This is what we deserve after practicing good financial habits for all those years,” You marveled, opening all the doors to reveal gorgeous rooms that were bright simply from the sunlight outside. Just like you had dreamed about. Eric hummed, trailing behind you, taking in the house silently, as opposed to your constant awes.
Finally, the two of you ended up in the master bedroom. 
Turning to him slowly, you put on your best puppy-like impression. “Can I have this one?”
Eric looked at you thoroughly unimpressed. “Is that the best you could do?”
You even pouted this time. He still stared back, completely unabashed. At a loss, you leaned in close, right up to his face. And for some reason, almost immediately, he was backing away with reddening cheeks.
“O-okay,” He stuttered. “Fine. You can have this one.”
Cheering, you flopped down on the bed, and with a sigh, you looked out the window dreamily. “If only my room was this neat all the time. It’s always messy.”
Eric huffed, lying down next to you. You turned your head to him and smiled softly at his serene expression as he looked up to the ceiling. 
“You can always call me if you need someone to clean your room,” He mumbled. “I’m the neatest after all.”
“Ah…” You breathed. “You’re right. Last time when you–”
“Knock, knock.” You could hear Eric’s voice from outside your door. With a slight sniffle, you brought the covers over your face, curling up to yourself. Being hit with a sudden slump that left you unable to do anything except lie in bed defeated wasn’t entirely ideal. 
Your room was an absolute mess and when Eric had called you, he immediately could tell from your voice that you were having a hard time. You heard the door opening and him entering the room. He stood there silently for a moment. But suddenly, you could hear various sounds. Trash being picked up, clothes being folded… peeking your head outside of your blankets, you realized that he was cleaning up for you. 
With tears welling up in your eyes at his kind actions, you sniffled even louder. Eric instantly looked up at the sound and he was right by your side. He pulled you into a hug, whispering sweet, sweet words in your ear as his hand stroked the back of your head soothingly.
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” He had whispered, pulling away so that he could brush a strand of hair out of your face gently. Even caressing your cheek, he had let you fall asleep against his chest.
But that’s what friends do, right?
Clearing your throat, you sat up abruptly. Eric followed, staring at you with slight perplexion. Suddenly, you turned to him.
“I never got to say thank you,” You blurted out. “For taking care of me that one time. So… thank you.”
And you had feared he would question what you were talking about. But instead, he nodded with a small smile.
“Of course,” He chuckled casually. “I’ll always care for you, dummy.” 
You smiled at that and then you lunged forward, pulling him into a hug. With your sheer force, he fell back on the bed. And just like that, it was the two of you, giggling and hugging each other, arms wrapped around warmly, in the midst of a beautiful beach house.
After unpacking and getting everything in order, you were so exhausted that you had fallen asleep almost immediately. But waking up in the morning was refreshing, with the bright sunshine pouring straight onto your face, warming you up perfectly. With a satisfied yawn and stretch, you walked out of your room, still dressed in your sleepwear.
But you paused abruptly when you saw Eric standing in the kitchen, apron tied around his waist and his sleeves rolled up again. He looked up and he smiled.
“Let’s cook together today.”
You gave him a pained smile and approached him. Before you could even say anything, he was leaning in to brush the messy strands of hair out of your face from just waking up. You’ve always noticed how gentle his hands were on you. When with Juyeon, he was rough and playful. But with you… he treated you like a piece of glass.
“We still suck though,” You complained.
“All the more reason to practice?” He gave you a quirked-up smile. 
Late at night, Eric was sleeping over. But suddenly, he had sprung up, startling you from your dozing off.
“I’m hungry,” He grumbled. “Let’s cook something.” 
And that was how you found yourself, half-asleep in the kitchen, figuring out how to make a simple dish from an old cookbook in one of your drawers. The two of you tried so hard, following each and every direction, only for it to taste like burnt pieces of garbage.
And so, Eric, with a sleepy, raspy voice, had to order takeout. You were silent until your eyes landed on the failed attempt once again. It looked like a blob of black, green, and somehow… pink. And soon enough, you were bent over the counter, laughing so hard over the monstrosity. You had expected Eric to join in on your laughing fit but instead, he had put down his phone and only stared at you fondly.
His eyes were sparkling as they met with yours and he had on the softest tug of his lips. Something in his expression made you stop laughing over how embarrassed you had gotten. Why was he looking at you like that? Almost like he… 
But that’s just how friends look at each other, is it not?
“You look focused,” Eric remarked, brushing past you to flip the pancakes.
“Huh? Oh– yeah,” You breathed out. “I just… remembered something.”
“What’s up?” 
And again, he looked at you like that. Eyes warm and gentle on yours, his smile small yet so, so fond. Your eyes trailed down to where his hand had reached forward, near your waist to steady you from bumping into the sharp corner of the counter. Your cheeks immediately warmed up as you abruptly turned around. 
“N-nothing.”
After breakfast and getting ready, you headed out to the nearby outdoor market. It was a beautiful, yet bustling sight. People were in every corner, every stall, buying various things like seashell necklaces and cute jellyfish lamps. Your eyes were practically shimmering and you quickly grabbed hold of Eric’s wrist to pull him along.
At the first stall, a woman was selling beautiful leis. You gasped, picking one up and showing your best friend. He grinned and nodded expectantly.
“What’re you waiting for? Put it on,” He joked. 
You laughed and shook your head. Instead, you stepped forward, looping the pink and purple flower garland around his neck. You could hear the small intake from his lips as he looked down at you, eyes wide. Maybe, you were a bit too close to him. But, you didn’t think much of it as you continued to adjust it and admire the colors that complimented him perfectly.
Well, up until a child had run past, bumping into you and causing you to fall straight into Eric’s arms.
“Oh, I–” You gulped, feeling a warm hand close around your waist, holding you steady. 
“Sorry,” He muttered nervously, his cheeks flushing.
“It’s okay,” You whispered, peering up at him, still pressed against his body. He gazed back and his eyes began to slowly trail down to your… With a cough, you pulled away, refusing to look him in the eye. His hands were always gentle.
Again, you took his wrist to lead him somewhere else. But that was when you felt him pull away. For a second, you thought you might have lost him in the crowd, but he was still right behind you. Instead, his hand closed around yours, his fingers—rough from playing baseball in his free time—intertwining firmly around. You tried to ignore the quickening pace of your heart.
“So you don’t get lost,” He teased.
“You’re the one who gets lost the most,” You retorted, your voice slightly shaky.
At the next stall, there were plushies displayed for sale. Some were badly sewn, like the cat missing a buttoned eye. But some were particularly cute, especially the white bunny keychain, sitting on one of the shelves. 
“Hey,” You mumbled, approaching it. Both ears were intact and upright. “This reminds me of…”
Clutching the bunny plushie with the price tag attached to its ear close to your chest, you looked at Eric with a pleading look. 
“Please,” You complained. “Let me buy it. I promise I’ll pay you back tomorrow. Hm?”
Eric looked at you with narrowed eyes, switching his gaze from you to the plushie. And then he sighed, taking it from your hand. With hopeful eyes, you watched as he walked to the shelf and put it back. And just like that, all your dreams were crushed.
“C’mon.” He urged you away. “That’s dumb.”
“But you know my favorite animals are bunnies,” You whined. But still, you followed him out of the store.
About a week later, he showed up at your door. It was your birthday after all so when your eyes landed on the small present box in your hands, you smiled with delight. He tilted his head with a shy smile.
“Happy birthday,” He whispered, leaning in to pull you into a hug. “I know this isn’t great, but I tried my best.” He smiled at you sheepishly.
When you opened it, sitting inside was a small plushie. Of a bunny. It was so, so badly made, the stitches mangled and the ears practically falling off. But it was so… Eric.
“Is that why you didn’t let me buy the other one?” You questioned, clutching it close to your chest protectively.
He nodded with a completely serious expression. “I didn’t need unnecessary competition.”
And despite rolling your eyes at his comment, you found yourself carefully placing the plushie right at your bedside so it was the first thing you saw when you woke up. 
And to this day, you still have it.
But that’s just what friends do… you think.
Eric had read your mind and quickly, he was grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the stall.
“My sewing skills could be better,” He said with an embarrassed look on his face. You laughed in response. Before you could even say anything else, he was reaching forward to clasp a necklace around your neck. He was so, so close that you could feel his breath across your lips and smell his scent which reminded you a lot like cotton candy. 
“When did you get this?” You whispered, looking down at it. It was a small seashell shaped like a heart.
“Few minutes ago.” He smiled. “But you didn’t notice.”
“I love it.” You grinned. And just like that, you hadn’t reached for his wrist this time, but straight for his hand. With fingers intertwined, the two of you walked down the rest of the market, smiling and laughing all throughout the sunset.
Another day had passed and the two of you had mostly stayed inside the beach house, due to the cloudy weather ruining the mood. It was fun nonetheless, watching movies and even playing board games. Which, Eric won all three of them for some reason. You simply call it luck.
Now, laying in your bed, you felt yourself grow drowsy over the ambient noise of the rain pattering on the windows and the occasional rumble of thunder. Sometimes, there would be a flash of light outside–lightning, but you were much too tired to really care.
Just as your eyes were about to shut close, you heard a knock on the door.
“Eric?” You whispered, your voice croaky from sleep.
The door creaked open, and there he was, dressed in a comfy t-shirt. You recognized it. The one that he had once let you borrow because you had spilled coffee all over yourself. It was warm and… well, it smelled just like him.
“What happened?” You frowned, sitting up. He stepped closer and if you looked closely, you could see the tinge of red on his cheeks.
“...you know,” He muttered.
You did know.
Your phone rang, startling you out of your sleep. Despite your initial grumpiness, you picked up when you realized it was your best friend.
“Eric?”
A deep breath from the other line. And then–
“Can you come over?”
You looked at the time. It was two in the morning.
“Why?” You furrowed your eyebrows.
“I’m… scared of thunderstorms.” You could even hear his voice tremble. And just like that, you were out the door, umbrella in hand. But the rain was so heavy that it managed to seep into your clothes and hair anyway, leaving you drenched by the time you reached his door.
At the sound of the doorbell, Eric flung the door open. You couldn’t even get a word in because he was pulling you in and he was throwing his arms around you, scrambling to hold you close, his hands grasping onto your shirt tightly. You smiled softly as you hugged him back, even if you were getting his clothes wet too.
“I missed you,” He whispered, tightening his hold. “So much.”
You laughed softly. “I’m right here. You saw me yesterday already, didn’t you?”
“I–” He grumbled, pulling away. His lips were pulled into a tight frown as he searched your eyes with a deeper meaning behind them. “I always miss you.”
That’s not… how friends act, do they?
“Want to sleep here?” You patted the spot next to you, even bringing an extra pillow and adjusting the blankets.
“Gladly,” He grinned. “That’s why I came here in the first place.” In only a matter of seconds, he was climbing into bed with you. The two of you never… slept in the same bed together but it felt so natural with the way your arms wrapped around him and he had snuggled up to your chest.
This is definitely how friends act.
The next day was boring. You all had planned it to be the day where each one of you would go off and do whatever separately as a way to individually relax. But, you realized just how much Eric was a part of your life. Wandering the gardens, you found yourself thinking of his stupid puns and his even stupider smile. Truth be told, Eric was always with you. The two of you never went a week without seeing each other. Any much longer than that and Eric was clinging and hugging you for the whole day, saying he needed to “recharge.”
Finally, in the evening, you saw Eric again. He was wearing a comfy, zip-up jacket since the evenings tended to get chilly and his hair was adorably messy. Adorably? Since when did you think that?
“Want to sit with me?” He leaned against the doorway. “My room has a better view.” You nodded brightly and followed him. 
You had never noticed just how beautiful the scenery actually was from his room. Your room mostly pointed towards the various palm trees. But his room, with its wide and tall window that overlooked the whole beach, was different. The two of you sat together on the bed, knees drawn up to your chests, as you observed the constant motion of the ocean water moving back and forth, creating bubbles with it. The night sky was dark, yet it sparkled with twinkling stars dotted across it. 
When you looked over, you saw Eric, looking out the window too. The moonlight shone perfectly on his face, accentuating each of his handsome features. His kind eyes, the slope of his nose, his plush lips that shaped into a soft smile.
He was always handsome. You always knew that. But something about this moment, right now, left your eyes widening, cheeks flushing, and your heart pounding. 
“What do you mean you lost the grocery list?” You whined. “Juyeon wanted this huge Christmas feast. I can’t bear to disappoint him.”
Eric grimaced. “I swear, my dog ate it.”
“You don’t even have a dog.”
The two of you continued to bicker, walking down the numerous aisles of the grocery store, trying to figure out the ingredients to make Juyeon’s favorite food until an elderly couple stopped you in your tracks.
“Aren’t you both an adorable couple?” The woman cooed.
Your jaw dropped and you turned to Eric, only to find that he didn’t share the same shocked expression. He was smiling almost… shyly, the tips of his ears turning red.
“Oh, just look at the way he looks at them,” The man pointed out before turning to his wife. “Just like I had looked at you all those years ago.”
The woman laughed bashfully, batting him away. Then, she turned back to Eric with kind eyes.
“You must love them a lot.” She said with a kind smile.
You were about to jump in and refute, explain everything was all a lie, that you both were just really good friends up until–
“I do,” Eric replied. He looked at you with that same look that he’d been looking at you for ages now. The softening gaze and slight tug of his lips… it was like you were the flame to his wooden match. “I truly do.”
That’s not how friends act.
You swallowed thickly, all words caught in your throat for a moment. That particular moment often flitted past your mind briefly because you thought that he was just playing along. But now that you think about it…
“Did you mean it?” You finally whispered.
He turned to you with a confused smile. “Mean what?”
“That you… love me.” You studied his face for an answer and you had hoped that you wouldn’t find one—that you wouldn’t see the absolutely smitten look on his face that would further complicate your friendship that’s already lasted decades. But you saw it. The smitten look, right there in front of you. It was there and it gave you all the answers that you needed.
He was quiet, watching you with a tender look in his eyes. And then he leaned to the side, bumping his shoulder with yours lightly.
“I meant it,” He replied, smiling to himself shyly. You gazed at him in shock. “But...” He turned to you, his smile faltering slightly. “However you want to interpret that is up to you.”
You bit your lip and tilted your head so that it was resting on his shoulder. It was odd but not that surprising how well it fits in the crook of his neck, almost as if you were always meant to be there. You didn’t say anything right away, instead, choosing to watch the waves roll, over and over. But everything reminded you of the man sitting right beside you. The bright stars in the sky were just like the mischievous twinkle that he would have in his eyes before he would tackle you into a hug and the crystal clear water that flowed in and out on the sand was just like the steady pounding of your heartbeat whenever you caught sight of his pretty smile. 
“As friends or romantically?” You spoke, so quietly that Eric had to lean in even closer to hear you, his hair brushing against your forehead.
He hummed ambiguously. “Whatever you want.” But you could hear the slight tremor in his deep voice.
His words only further answered your question. No matter how hard he would try to make it so that it was all up to you, you could sense everything. The soft tone of his voice, his warm hand covering yours, and his calm breathing. You could sense his feelings. Each and every one of them, like his heart was beating directly through yours.
Slowly, the rustle of the palm trees and the natural sound of his slow breaths gently pulled you into a state of drowsiness. Shuffling so that your whole side was pressed up to his, you leaned closer, nuzzling your cheek into his warm shoulder. And gradually, your eyes closed, sleep overcoming you peacefully.
He smiled down at you, gently bringing you to lie down on the bed. He pulled the blankets over you, tucking you in snugly. And then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, gazing at you with so much warmth.
“Romantically,” He whispered, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “It’s always been romantically.”
You had woken up to a text from Juyeon. And yes, you have been sending pictures to him, mostly consisting of blurry selfies of you posing perfectly and Eric who wasn’t even looking at the camera, constantly distracted.
Stretching, you realized that you weren’t in your bed. You were in Eric’s bed. And just like that, all the memories came rushing back to you. Romantically or as friends? As friends or romantically? Whichever one was it?
Shaking your head, you opened the text.
Juyeon: did you do the last activity on the itinerary yet?
Juyeon: the beach party
And so there you were, dressed in one of your summer outfits, flowy and perfect for the weather. Eric was beside you, staring in awe at the scene. The two of you had never quite made it to the beach, being so preoccupied with other places to explore. But now that you were here, the sand soft under you and the sun setting in the background, you couldn’t help but smile dearly. You had waited excitedly for this moment really, as Juyeon had claimed that this was a surprise made by him and he had hired someone to set it up.
And set up it was. String lights and lanterns were scattered about, lighting up the scene. There were chairs set up, made to sit together and watch the calm ocean. And on the right, there was a speaker to play music.
“Well isn’t this pretty?” You mumbled, your mouth agape.
Eric smiled, turning to look right at you. “Very pretty.”
Wordlessly, he took your hand in his, leading you toward the lanterns. It wasn’t really a party anymore. You couldn’t help but think that this was actually a beach… a beach date.
You sat down in one of the chairs and you watched as Eric picked up his phone to put on music. Immediately, you recognized the song. 
“You Better Know?” You laughed, remembering all the times you and Eric had belted out Red Velvet songs after failing an exam to cope with the feeling of failure. It never really worked but it was fun either way. 
He shrugged with a charming smile. He began to dance slightly as he walked away to pick up seashells that were scattered across the beach. You watched silently, leaning forward as you let your eyes wander over your best friend. 
Eric truly no longer was the messy boy who scribbled outside the lines on coloring books or the boy who repeatedly tripped on the playground causing his knees to get scraped. He no longer was the boy who experienced constant voice cracks or who struggled in exams because he had overslept with dark circles under his eyes. 
Instead, he was a man with a deeper voice, broader shoulders, and a charming middle part in his hair as opposed to the disorderly, overgrown middle school hairstyle he always had. He was a man who had ditched the dark hoodies in his angsty teenager phase, instead opting for white, flowy button-up shirts that complimented his golden skin perfectly. He even reminded you of Prince Eric–ironically, enough–from The Little Mermaid.
Eric no longer was the boy that you simply were best friends with. He was a man who you have fallen in love with. And you had no idea for how long.
Standing up silently, you approached him. He looked up at you, giving you a soft smile, a beautiful white seashell in his hand.
“Here,” He said, taking your hand in his. He placed the shell in yours, gazing at you with so much affection that you felt a shudder all throughout your spine. “For you.”
You smiled, looking down at it. It was round, embellished with small ridges. It was perfect. The faint sound of the upbeat, song playing in the background as you looked up at him with sparkles in your eyes.
“Eric,” You started. “I have to tell you something.”
And for some reason, he had leaned forward, pressing a finger to your lips to shush you. You let out a muffled sound, gaping at him in bewilderment.
“Eric?”
“Let me speak first,” He whispered. 
You inhaled sharply…
“Romantically.”
…held your breath…
“My answer is romantically.”
… and exhaled shakily, processing his confession, one word at a time. But before you could, Eric was saying more.
“For the longest time, I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Ever since I saw you back in elementary school. And mayhaps, I did mean that stupid ‘will you marry me?’ statement,” He chuckled. He reached forward taking your other hand in his, wrapping his fingers around. “Over time I… I tried to get over you. But, since you’re my best friend I couldn’t distance myself. So I accidentally fell in love.”
You felt your heart pound at his words, all of your memories rushing back in full force. It all had started to make sense. The acts of service when you weren’t feeling well, the soft looks when you were only laughing, the homemade gifts even though he claimed that he hated making things, and the… words. The specific word love.
“Eric, I…”
“Ah, wait,” He laughed. “This song.”
Red Flavor by Red Velvet. The classic, happy summer song. 
And suddenly, he reached forward, pulling you in by the waist. “Can I sing for you?”
You snorted, your cheeks flushing once you registered the warmth of his large hand on the small of your back. “This song?”
“Mhm,” He hummed, grinning. “This song.”
And before you could retort, he actually started singing, Swaying you from left to right, his arms continuously wrapped around you, his deep voice resonated through the cozy summer night, igniting each and every star one by one. He sang the pre-chorus, gazing at you with affection and well, love.
"I like you, it was love at first sight. I keep thinking of you." His lips pulled up into a soft smile as he sang, his voice husky and a great contrast to the higher-pitched voices of the actual song. You were enamored, your heart beating right against his chest as you watched him silently, watching as he sang so, so, gently. Only for you and for you only. “I want to go my own way.”
And then the chorus started with its fun beat and cheerful singing. You giggled, placing your hands on his chest, leaning forward to hide in his neck. 
“This song does not fit the moment right now,” You remarked, smiling against his skin. You could feel the vibration of his deep laugh as he held you closer, his hands stroking your sides gently.
“But at least it got the confession down. So, what’s your answer?”
You laughed, pulling away to look up at him lovingly. He smiled down at you, his eyes wandering over each of your features fondly.
“The very last line,” You replied. He had grown silent at that, listening to each of the lyrics, waiting for the end. And then–
What I like the most is you in the summer.
Eric widened his eyes and he looked down at you hopefully. “Really?”
You nodded, your cheeks flushing. “Not just like. Love.”
“Oh, wow,” He breathed out. And again, just like he had done all those other times, he brushed a piece of hair out of your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with sparks accompanying it. “God, I’m so in love,” He muttered. And just like that, the next song had started—Hear The Sea—playing softly in the background.
You laughed, “Did you just put on a whole Red Velvet playlist?”
“And what about it?” He grinned. “It’s summer.” And slowly, he pulled away, not before looping your hand in his. His hand rested on your waist, holding you close. To the calm singing and beautiful instrumental of the song, the two of you danced. Sometimes, either one of you would trip on the sand, causing an endeared laugh here and there. But mostly, the silence between you was filled with soft smiles and flushed cheeks.
Even though Eric no longer was the boy who ran around when it was summertime, he always would be the boy with the most beautiful smile. 
His eyes were bright on yours, watching you closely as the two of you swayed slowly to the music. 
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this for?” He whispered.
You shook your head, feeling hot all over. 
“So long,” He continued. “I’ve always longed to dance with you.”
You smiled. “And what else?”
“Hold you.”
You hummed. “You always loved doing that.”
But then his eyes darkened on you for a moment. “And… kiss you. Though I haven’t done that one yet.”
Your breath hitched, your dancing coming to a halt. “Then do it.”
He gazed at you softly. “Are you sure? There’s no rush.”
“Think for yourself.” You giggled. “How long exactly have you waited to kiss me?”
He paused, and both of his hands came down to grasp your waist this time. “Years. I’ve waited for years.” He looked at you shyly, his eyes adorably hopeful and loving.
“Then act.”
And so he did.
Almost aggravatingly slow–as if to make sure he really had your consent–he tilted his head and he softly placed his lips on yours. Shutting your eyes closed, you allowed yourself to get lost in the addictive feeling, the soft pull of your lips and the gentle grasping of your waist as he pulled you so close that your bodies were flush against each other. 
It was like everything was drowned out. In your ears, you could no longer hear the crash of the waves on the shore. Instead, you could only make out the quiet, satisfied hum that escaped Eric’s parted lips. You couldn’t feel the summer breeze blowing against your skin, you could only feel the warmth of the palm of his hand as it came to cup your jaw, tipping your head slightly so he could kiss further.
It was a soft kiss, filled with sparks that would set off fireworks in the very pit of your stomach. Slow movements without fervor, as it was just Eric, kissing you like he must have been dreaming of doing all these years. The hand on your waist fit perfectly around you and so you couldn’t help but melt into his touch, stepping closer. Eric huffed out a quiet laugh as he blindly guided your hand to where his heart was where you could only feel it beat and beat and beat.
And with a tap against his chest, the two of you broke apart, lips red and slightly swollen. You stared at him in silence before bursting out into shy laughter, lunging forward to hide your face in his shoulder. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you once again, but this time with a different feeling. Love, maybe. 
“Who knew that this trip would force me to confess?” He wondered to himself.
“Good.” You scowled. “You took too long.”
“Oh?” He smirked. “But look who finally figured out their feelings on this very trip?”
Your cheeks flushed and you playfully shoved him. “Stop it.”
“Say it.”
You frowned in confusion. “Say what?”
“You know what I mean,” He teased. “I want to hear you.”
You gulped and looked down at the sand. “That I… love you?”
“Mhm,” He hummed. “I love you too.”
And then he pulled something out of his pocket. When he unfolded it, he placed it in your hand which was still clutching onto the seashell. You looked down, only to realize that it was another red, paper heart. Written in neater, more legible handwriting this time, were the words, 
“Will you date me?”
“Ah,” You breathed out. “So you finally get the words right.”
He rolled his eyes. “Is that a yes or no, my beautiful?”
“My,” You laughed. “If you use my, then that means I’m already yours.”
“You’ve always been mine.” His eyes sparkled.
“Then my answer is yes,” You whispered before smiling and leaning up to peck his lips once again. He was about to pull you into a full-fledged kiss but you giggled before running away, kicking behind flurries of sand. Eric groaned and he began to chase you down the shoreline.
“You can’t do that after you’ve just kissed me!” He complained. 
“Too bad.” You stuck your tongue out. His frown turned into a fond smile as he laughed and ran after you.
You didn’t know exactly when, but the two of you somehow ended up in the water–clothes that weren’t meant for swimming, thoroughly soaked.
He looked at you with a loving smile as he waded over to you, his hair slightly damp from your splashing. Huffing out a fond laugh, he quickly trapped you into his embrace. And then he turned you, his back to the rest of the ocean so that you wouldn’t be hit by the waves. Smiling at you, he pulled you back in, his lips, wet from the water, pressing onto yours.
“You taste like the ocean.” You grinned after pulling away.
“And you taste delicious.”
“Oh my.” You gasped. “Why are you flirty now? I only know the clumsy, foolish Eric.”
“There’s much more to learn about me,” He whispered, grinning widely as he reached a hand out of the water to brush away a strand that had stuck to your forehead. “Just you wait. I’d even write a whole novel for you. And you know I failed literature class.”
You laughed, clearly remembering the defeated look on his face when he had checked his exam grade. 
“I learned something already,” You quietly said. A particularly harsh wave almost shoved you both off your feet, but Eric was quick to steady you with his hands. Always so gentle and firm.
“And what’s that?”
“That you’re an excellent kisser.”
He laughed adorably before pressing a kiss to your lips again. 
“And I knew something already,” He uttered. "For a while now."
“Hm?” A smile grew on your face.
“That I’m so–” A peck on your cheek. “So…” Another on the tip of your nose. “So in love with you.” And finally, a kiss on your lips. 
The truth is, that neither of you cared if the ocean was trying its best to knock you both over. Your blooming love and soft, adoring smiles in between kisses were steady enough to hold you up.
Because that’s just how friends act. Or more specifically, how two best friends who fell in love with each other act.
You sent one thing to Juyeon on the last day of your trip. Attached, was a selfie of the two of you, kissing softly, the ocean and the moon in the background. 
Juyeon immediately opened it. And then the bubbles of his texting appeared and disappeared, for over three minutes. When his message appeared, you laughed loudly at the one word that appeared on the screen.
Juyeon: finally 
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Hey bbg 🤪😊😊😊😍😍 can you do a hantengu (all of them) x the classical fem!maid reader? 🥺🥺🥺
Reader is a maid in their mansion and the demons are disguising themselves (modern times) as muzan finds that damn lily. They have a business meeting at their home with some perv who makes comments abt them and the main four oopsie doodle him kill 🥰🥰. It's a yandere and a bit of spicy 😍😍
Of course pookie here you go, just as a forewarning I don’t really do yandere as I’m not too comfortable writing such. (I think I forgot to write that in my request rules but I will update it soon) but for now I will try my best. Anyway on with the request.
The sound of small footsteps swiftly made their way through the corridors or the large scale mansion, they belonged to none other then Zohakuten as he made his way to the main meeting room and trailing no less then three steps behind him was the beloved maid of the manor (y/n). All seven members of the manor loved their darling maid from the moment she rang the doorbell looking for a job, she found it odd that they would always request her presence during the meetings but she was also smart enough to not question her bosses.
Both people stood before the door to the meeting room and (y/n) quickly moved to open it for the young master, his eyes flickering to her nodding in a quiet thanks. She had known the people of the manor long enough to discern what they actually ment from certain looks and body language, the boy simply always looked angry and was indeed thankful. She nodded back at him and followed close behind, shutting the door as she went and stood guard beside the door as she watched Zohakuten take his seat at the table thus beginning the meeting.
(Y/N)’s POV
I tried my best to pay attention to the meeting but part of me believes they were using complicated words so that I wouldn’t understand what they were talking about. Anyway I had other things to worry about like what I was going to cook for dinner and more importantly the looks that their business partner was giving me. I carefully flicked my gaze to the others in the room, trying to discern what they were thinking about, it seems that Aizetsu, Hantengu and Sekido were doing the majority of the talking while the others watched on in boredom. I watched as Zohakuten and Urami caught the guy staring at me on multiple occasions, coughing into their hands to get his attention, both looked equally as pissed everytime they caught him and it was clear that his not so subtle comments about me and my body were grating on everyone nerves. Even Hantengu, as meek and nervous as he was, was beginning to furrow his brows at the man. At long last the meeting was over and I was quickly allowed to leave the room, I wasn’t going to be told twice, bowing before leaving the room as quickly but respectively as possible.
Zohakuten’s POV
We all watched as our beloved (y/n) scurried out of the room, it was obvious that she was disturbed by the disgusting looks and words that this scoundrel has befallen her. The moment she was out of the room he started again, proclaiming that we were lucky to have such a gorgeous girl as our maid and if he had her, he would have taken her innocence by now. Sekido and Urami gripped the table in anger at his words while Urogi and Karaku’s faces held an uncommon frown. The silence in the room that followed was palpable as the man began to realise that no one was agreeing with him. He let out an awkward chuckle before trying to excuse himself only to be quickly blocked by Urami who had shot up out of his seat and blocked the door. The disgusting cretin backed up into Sekido who grabbed his arms and held them behind his back as Urami instructed the four young boys to dispose of the man before he, Hantengu and I left the room in search of our beloved maid.
(Y/N)’s POV
I finished cooking tonights dinner as I put the big pot to simmer and backed away, wiping my brow and jumping slightly as a hand grasped the sleeve of my maid dress. Looking down, I see Zohakuten looking as angry as usual but there are more furrows in his brow and they look intentional which means he truly is angry. “Young master whatever has gotten you in such a fluster?” I kept my tone soft, like that of an older sister as Zohakuten lets out a sneer (visibly not aimed at me) before responding. “That filthy man and his words did not go unnoticed by any of us, to see you so uncomfortable, it angers my soul. The others are equally angered and those four are taking care of that filth so you don’t have to worry anymore.” As he spoke, I felt another hand grip the opposite sleeve of my dress, I needn’t look down to see who it was as the shaking of the hand told me that it was Hantengu. “H-His words were horrible and that look in his eyes…. Truly disgusting.” He managed to eep out as i bought my hand up to stroke his head, trying to comfort him. My body tensed slightly as another pair of hands snuck their way around my waist as a rather large head rested atop mine, Urami had made his presence known as Zohakuten backed off to walk away, not before placing a small kiss to my forehead after some reaching upwards. Now having my other arm fully free, I pull Hantegu fully into my embrace unintentionally pushing his face into my chest. He lets out a small eep and I let him go, thinking i was suffocating him somehow, I feel a hard kiss on top of my head as Urami backed away, taking Hantengu with him as I was left alone in the kitchen.
It wasn’t long before multiple sets of hurried feet were heard through the corridors as four figures ran through the kitchen door, all four of the boys in varying states of bloody. I didn’t have time to react as the chipper of the four, Urogi, flung himself at me and wrapped his arms around me as he pulled me into his embrace. Peppering my face with kisses, he mumbled how they got rid of that nasty man and I would be safe once more before feeling another body slide up behind my own, cheekily pressing their groin against the flush of my ass. Karaku murmured in my ear as Aizetsu took my hand, peppering kisses up and down my arm while Sekido stood off to the side as if waiting for his turn, I held my other hand out to him as he took it, moving himself towards me in a slightly aggressive manner before planting his lips against my neck, kissing up and down as if he was trying to get rid of his anger and stress. Not long after this, the four boys begrudgingly peeled themselves away from me as they each placed a kiss to my lips in varying stages of aggression before stalking off to do whatever. Leaving me with a blush on my face as I giggle to myself and turn back to the dinner.
Sorry if this wasn’t as spicy as you wanted, you asked for slightly spicy so I didn’t really do much but I will deffo be doing more spicy shit as I continue to write
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