#i literally imagine this all the time when i hear these songs rip

[theold-ultraviolence]

ooooh how about something with jealous and protective aemond 🖤🖤

Shepherd of Fire • Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader • 18 +

Summary: Aemond gets possesive of his Lady wife after a guard keeps ogling at her. One night, he plans on making it clear to him whom she belongs to. CW: oral sex (f & m receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockwarming, PIV sex. Exhibitionist kink kind of. Words: 3.5 K

A/N: JO! Thank you for dropping this thought, I seriously took it and ran with it lmao. This is pure filth with some plot. Disclaimer that I'm a GOT newbie so apologies if I'm a bit off with the lore and with my use of High Valyrian, literally used a translator app for it. As always, title comes from an A7X song.

Blood is replaced by vitriol in Aemond’s veins whenever he catches another ogling his wife.     

Don’t they know you’re his? Or do they wish to get a taste of his blade down their throats? 

Feel it slashing up their heads, for having turned it in your direction as you passed the hall in a light dress when the seasons warmed. 

Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knows not to take their chances, to be respectful or else they’d witness, firsthand, the titanic wrath of Aemond Targaryen, that matches the potency of the flames that erupt from Vhagar’s fire breath. 

But this time, it’s some new guard – one whom Aemond hasn’t even cared to learn his name – sworn specifically to keep watch of the passageway that leads to your shared rooms. He’s quite young – younger than Aemond, even – with a full beard, broad shoulders and rugged facial features. Unlike Aemond, he has both of his eyes, bigger and brown, like that of the richest liquor.    

Those eyes are always wide and alert as they should, but their expressiveness gave away the thoughts that crossed his mind when he got a glimpse of the princess. Lust, pure and unabashed lust displayed on his widening pupils, making Aemond tighten his hold on your arm when you’d be passing by.

You’ve told Aemond not to fret, have proven your devotion and loyalty over and over, with the strength of your embrace and the urge and tenderness of your kisses, and the tight grip of the muscles of your core when he’s inside of you. You soothe the jealousy that might creep up on him given the guard’s handsome complexion, but that’s only a superficial concern. 

He knows it’s not you, he does not fear you might ever betray him. What keeps him awake at night — with his hearing sense heightened for a lack of a perfect vision, fixed on the sounds coming from behind the door — is the possibility that this bastard might try his luck and molest you. 

Aemond worries that one day he won’t be by your side when you walk to your quarters and the man will take full advantage of it, pull you to the side and do things he doesn’t want to imagine. While you’re no damsel in distress in the least, he knows what men of a certain caliber are capable of when provoked, even if they’ll never be able to rival Aemond’s own strength. 

As your husband, he swore to love and care for you, to protect you. 

He’s a watchful tower when it comes to his wife; sneering if he passes the guard, paralyzing him with a glare so intense it could kill. He should just rip both of his eyes and extinguish the hunger that should not be found there. 

For the man’s stare still lingers on you, despite it all.

His eyes wander around your breasts, before tentatively scurrying downwards to the hemline of your dress that brushes your calves. Aemond can tell, even if the guard remains still, he can tell that he’s salivating at the exquisite sight you make. 

One evening, Aemond finally snaps.  

You’re returning from a banquet, scheduled on the hottest day of the season, which prompted you to wear one of your more revealing dresses in order to withstand the heat throughout the length of the evening. By the time you return to your rooms, there’s a thin layer of sweat that makes your gorgeous skin glisten in a most enticing way. Aemond himself couldn’t wait to reach the marital bed and take you, but one look at the guard’s leer and all blood rushes in his system like an impending tide. 

He tightens his hold on your arm while defying the guard with his gaze. 

Aemond’s eye remains fixed and daring as he turns the lock of your bedroom door, gently ushers you in and lingers by the door frame with one final look at the man. 

“I expect you to keep a close watch.” He orders, in that soft but threatening tone of his. 

“As is my duty, your grace.” The guard nods courtly, though unease coils inside his gut when he meets Aemond’s wicked grin before the door is harshly shut in his face. 

Then, Aemond turns to you in a flash. 

His beauty, his darling Lady wife looks like a goddess, as you remove your dress in front of the fireplace, with your arms outstretched behind you to unclasp the cords that tighten it. Aemond’s on you immediately, gently pushing away your hands so he could finish the deed, revealing the line of your back that demands to be kissed. 

He’s peppering desperate kisses from the nape of your neck and down your spine while his hands settle on your hips. Each kiss gets bolder with a tease of his tongue as he reverently dotes on the valley between each shoulder blade. 

“Husband,” you sigh, “that feels wonderful…” you melt from his touch, arching your neck back to guide Aemond’s affections to it. 

The prince emits a low growl as he sucks on your earlobe, licks at the shell of your ear then quickly spins you around and pushes you to the bed’s edge, before kneeling, lifting and dropping you on top of it. 

“My, your grace, we’re in a different mood,” you squeal and tease, easily sliding the dress and everything else off of you. He smiles devilishly, staring at the plains of skin languidly draped along the satin sheets while mirrors you, deliberately unclasping each leather garment, until the last thing to be off is his eyepatch, leaving Aemond entirely bare before you. 

He pounces, capturing your lips in his to lick and nibble and bite all sloppily, when he’s usually more meticulous in this regard. 

Now he’s overcome with possessiveness. Messy and raw. 

He wants you all marked, wants to see your lips swollen and chin dripping with saliva that marks the trail that he takes down your jawline and to the side of your ear, to whisper in High Valyrian, “I want you to scream for me, as loudly as you can. I want everyone in this hallway, everyone in the vicinity, to know that you’re mine. I want them to know who’s making you scream, who ruins you and leaves you begging for more. I won’t stop until you’re a sobbing mess, my wife. You’re mine, my love.” 

“Mirre,” he growls, shivers alighting every centimeter of your skin, “ñuhon.”

He accentuates the word with a gentle bite to your neck and the tight press of him grinding his cock against you – rock solid and thick, already leaking precum down your leg. 

All Mine. 

Too soon in this game you’re a whining mess and all he had done was whispered huskily into your ear, with those delicious rolls of his tongue as he spoke in the language of his ancestors. 

Aemond is mad for you, but he doesn’t even imagine what monumental effect he has on you.

You’d move the stars if he asked. You kneel happily and willingly before him every time without him even having to command you to it. 

You’re grasping at his shoulders, seeking for something to hold on to as he becomes a hurricane of a man, roughly grabbing you by the meat of your thighs, dragging you to the center of the bed all bent up in half and settling in front of your cunt. 

He wastes no time in drinking you in, in lapping a firm line across your slit before his tongue dives deep inside of you and it twirls, and prods and curls, intent on coaxing every single drop that spurts from you to swallow down greedily, while his hands knead and squeeze your thighs, pressing them tightly to frame his face. 

Your toes curl, grazing the spot in between Aemond’s shoulders to edge him on, plead for him to keep going, and going, and going and never stop, not when his quiet grunts reverberate deliciously into your walls and you can’t help but fist the sheets, grab a handful of his hair or else you’re sure you’ll soar away from this bed. 

Aemond brings one thumb to press on your clit, two fingers to spread out your lips for him so he could latch his tongue to that sweet and sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Once his tongue finds that perfect interval of sucking and licking on it, his fingers slowly venture right inside your cunt – teasingly at first, but steadily inching deeper and deeper, knowing that he’s reached the perfect spot by the way your legs tense and a noose tightens around your neck that makes your moans and gasps become ragged.

He keeps going, increasing the pressure by the minute, the speed – ardently gazing at your figure unraveling. 

How your eyes scrunch shut and you go all silent and strained before one lengthy moan escapes from deep within your gut, and your hands desperately grasp the back of his head to keep him in place and support yourself as you cum. 

He starts chuckling, looking up at you.

“Aemond…” you mewl, mind blank except for the lingering pulses that still send bolts all over your nerves. “Husband, please…valzȳrys kostilus.” 

You want him close, want him on top of you. 

But Aemond is looking so sinfully at you. 

He’s looking as if he’s a shepherd of fire, here to guide the embers that are crackling within you into a powerful blaze. 

That impish smirk just widens for he goes in to greedily eat out your cunt once more, leaving no room to recuperate. 

Your eyes roll back, planting your feet on the bed as your hips lift desperately into an unstable bridge. 

He steadies you with one of his arms locked around your tummy while his opposite hand entwines itself with your own, determined to make you come again only using his mouth. 

And oh, he does, he does, he does.  

He’s never been one to not meet his resolutions. 

Always been a man that achieves his goals effortlessly. 

“Husband!” you hiccup, white knuckled and burning from inside out, sensations so heightened that you’re wiggling to get away if only for a quick break but he’s relentless. He’s snickering right into your cunt as he reigns you back in place and practically buries his face in the puddle that has become of you. 

He’s at it vigorously, akin to a starved man savoring his last meal on earth, wetly grumbling with pleasure at the taste, at the feel of you dripping endlessly. 

Until, quicker than expected, the fire rises once more and you yelp, “Aemond, please!” 

“That’s it, my love, keep going. Scream for me,” he grunts in High Valeryian – and Gods, the fucking sound of that tongue is enough to coax the orgasm to throb into the third one. 

You’re one body aflame — vision going black and voice having been burnt a while ago, leaving your mouth agape around a silent scream. 

And he doesn’t even let a second pass. 

He slides his hand off of yours to fuck two fingers into your cunt again in a tantalyzing pace, so slowly dragging the pleasure out to drive you wild.

“No, no, no, husband — Aemond!” you shriek, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!” you blabber and sob into your pillow, stretching away from him like a cat would. “Daor, Aemond!” 

But he’s as untamable as a dragon is, no matter what language you use. 

His fingers keep digging, loving but firm and insistent, adding a third one and curling upwards while quickening the speed of his wrist. 

Suddenly everything in the whole room gets hazy, and the obscene sound of your squelching cunt and Aemond’s heaving breath seems amplified, echoing like the ripples that build at the pit of your stomach once more. 

The last orgasm has you feeling like you're flying across the skies on top of Vaghar – suspended in Westeros’ skyline, yet secured on the saddle, safe because you’re always enveloped around Aemond’s body when you ride his dragon with him. You reach the highest point in the sky to then free fall and crash down into an ocean of bliss.   

Aemond carefully detaches from you with one soft kiss to your clit; your throat is so hoarse now that all you can do is take one big inhale of breath that you let out with a frail whimper, and your legs give out and tumble down away from his shoulders. 

He kisses his way back up, all along your drenched body, reaching the galloping pulse point in your neck to soothe it gingerly. 

You tighten your hold around his shoulders and kiss him – all lazy licks from how exhausted you’ve become – and he has the gal to smirk and laugh right into your mouth. 

“What –” you try to speak, all breathy and tired but grinning after such a thorough fuck,  “what was that about?” 

“Do I need an excuse to ravage my wife?” he grumbles, but by the way there’s still some tension in his shoulders, you know there’s more to it than he lets on. 

You massage his shoulders, cradle the side of his face and tuck a strand of silver hair over his ear – his half-ponytail hairstyle was no more with how you’d yanked at his locks all throughout. 

All tamed with how your fingers brush his hair, his head nuzzles the crook of your neck, turns slightly towards the door on the wall opposite your bed and you know. 

The guard. 

You use his tactic against him, you use his ancient tongue to whisper all sultrily, “You needn’t worry, my husband. But if we’re playing this game, why don’t we show whose cock is the only one I want. Who’s the only man I get on my knees for?” 

His eyes widen, length twitching against your leg, all ruddy and thick, looking as if he was about to burst by your words alone. You softly push him off of you by the shoulders, onto his back, quickly settling between his legs and drooling at the sight of Aemond. 

All that power, all that might. Such a massive man, willing and spread like the most lavish feast before you. 

You never break eye contact as you lick your lips, press one hand down on the toned surface of his abs, stroke the coarse patch of hair that marks a path from his belly button to his cock – while the other takes the base of him, and leads his leaking tip right into your mouth. 

“Hīghagon, husband.” 

You moan, all wanton and debauched and urge him to do the same thing he’d asked of you earlier. 

 Scream for me.  

Aemond’s never been vocal in bed – or generally in life – but you want him to scream for you, just like you had for him.

You want him to scream as he uses you to fuck himself with your mouth, and groan so loudly at the sound of you gagging on his throbbing cock. 

Though he bucks his hips into your mouth more roughly by the second, though you're moaning like a brothel whore as you come up and down and hollow out your cheeks and slobber all over him, he still seeks out your hand that had been resting on his navel and grips it firmly, earning you a loving smile when you come up for air. 

“Hīghagon, Aemond,” you mewl before you suck on him again, before you lick the underside of his head with your tongue in tight, teasing circles until his muscled legs tense and arch, until he’s a growling mess, grabbing you by the crown of your head to push you further down so your nose is all pressed up in his pubic hair while your throat contracts around him.  

“My love, stop…” he wheezes, fighting the internal urge in him to cum in your mouth when he’d plan all along to last the whole night.

“Stop…” he murmurs lovingly, guiding you off of him. 

You detach with one crude pop, seductively licking at the string of precum that spurts from his head, before excitedly climbing on top of him and showing him just how good he tastes as you lick into his mouth with a pleased humm. 

You both take one moment to come down from your shared high, just kissing one another – muscles pliant, exchanging breaths and caresses and sweet nothings whispered between kisses. 

His wandering hands skim your sides, settling on your lower back while you continue to kiss. 

And soon, those greedy fingers reach your ass, fondling it and squeezing it, using it to press your cunt against his cock and start gently rocking you against him. Just grinding, not entering you yet. 

Just warming yourselves up, enjoying the closeness and the contrast in texture – him, all hefty and veiny, against your soft, puffy lips. It’s intoxicating, and his absolute favorite feeling in the world. 

“Avy jorrāelan, Aemond,” you sigh as you take the initiative to grab him and lead his tip into you, slowly sitting on his cock while his hands stroke your sides up and down encouragingly, reaching to fondle your breasts while he kisses your neck.

I love you. 

It makes him yearn, even if he has you right here with him. 

He’ll never stop yearning for you. 

Will never stop aching to feel as close as possible to you. 

He’s so overcome by it that he can only nod feverishly and hold on to you so you’ll know that he means to say it, but words have always managed to flee from the tip of his tongue when he needs them the most. 

It doesn’t matter though, he shows you – lavishing your neck with kisses until they travel to your tits and broadly lick and suck each of them zealously. 

Then he just grunts as you start to ride him. 

Slowly, so slowly building up to it, using this round as an active break. You arch your back to elongate the lines of your body, lines that he follows with his hands as they seek hold on your plump breasts. 

The movement of your hips is careful, tentative. Circular motions that serve more to bask in the feeling of his massive length inside of you than to climax immediately. And Aemond looks so ruined and blissed out beneath you that you can’t help but bend – at the same time that he rises up – and meet him halfway in a passionate kiss. 

A sinful part of you hopes that the guard will hear the more quiet, wet noises and infer that you’re just kissing. You hope he’ll know that what you share is a stronger bond than what he’s able to imagine. Stronger than just the brute strength that a guard possesses due to physical training. 

You’re obsessed with your husband, as he is with you. 

And no one will ever, ever come between you. 

With renowned motivation, Aemond suddenly manhandles you on your back and hoists your legs up on his shoulders, thrusting inside of you swiftly. 

You huff out a laugh and bite your lip, framing Aemond’s face between your hands and exclaiming, “Harder, husband. Go harder!” 

He smiles and growls as he quickens up the pace, pistoning in with an unforgiving rhythm that has you half laughing deliriously -  half moaning. “Kessa, Aemond!” 

Yes, yes, yes, you’re screams reach a higher pitch with each thrust while your nails claw at his back savagely, wishing to leave your mark on his body just like he’d done with yours, as you’re sure you’ll be walking around the court trying to hide the hickeys that will bloom as soon as you’re finished. 

Good. Let them see. Let them all see. 

But that comes tomorrow. 

Right now, what matters is that they hear. 

Your cries are feral: wails augmenting in pitch the harder he fucks you, while his groans just get deeper and more resonant. 

Yes, yes, yes, the mountain’s peak is right there, and you let Aemond now by digging your fingernails deeper into his taut flesh, by clenching around his cock with forceful pulses. 

It hurts so good it makes you weep. 

And that’s before his thumb finds his way to your clit. 

Then you’re really seeing stars – your screeching is no longer just for show. That’s just your response to the way it feels as though Aemond has touched you with a vibrant torch that lights all over your body as quickly as a forest fire does, leaving nothing untouched in its wake. 

You barely register the moment he slips out of you, grunting as he gives his cock the last vicious pumps that soon paint the expanse of your stomach with his cum.

“Ñuha ābrar…” he whispers, “my life. All mine.” 

“Fuck, Aemond,” You sigh into each other’s mouths, grinning all stupidly in love and endlessly pleased. “You think he heard?” You snicker while sweetly pecking Aemond’s lips, face all cradled in your touch as he remains on top of you. 

“I’m sure everyone in the Red Keep did.” 

And it’s precisely what he wanted. 

When, in the middle of the night, he slithers from your chambers to ask a handmaiden to refill his jug of water, the sight of the Guard –  standing by his post all jittery and  drained of color  – fills up his chest with unadulterated pride.  

And it’s not long after that, that the man resigned from his post. 

And after that, he was never to be heard of again throughout the whole of King’s Landing. 

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #female reader #reader insert #fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #house of the dragon #smut #ewan mitchell #my writing

[andvys]

Love will tear us apart // part ten 

Warnings: fluff, angst at the end

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader // mentions of Steve Harrington x fem!reader 

series masterlist

-

Eddie’s fingertips were grazing your skin gently. His eyes wide and his lips parted, resting on his side, he was leaning his elbow against the soft pillow as he listened attentively. 

“I didn't know where to go, I ran for what felt like forever. It honestly felt like days of running but I-I was so scared, I couldn't even feel the pain or the blood running down my leg. I knew that this, this thing-”

“Demogorgon?” Eddie asks. 

“Yeah, demogorgon.” you breathe, searching for disbelief in his eyes but there was known “he was behind me- or near me, the whole time. He could smell my blood. I hid and I ran and then I hid again. At some point something else must've caught his attention, I managed to get away and hide.” you explain, the memory was still so fresh in your mind, like it just happened yesterday. 

“Where did you hide?” 

“Uh-” right here “a trailer.” 

“A trailer?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brows. 

“Yeah. I hid there for a while.. I was scared to go out there. I knew staying wasn't an option, no one would come and rescue me but I-I just couldn't, not at first, at least.” you mumble “but then, I went out after putting on some clothes-”

“Wait, were you naked?” Eddie gasps. 

Your eyes widen “no! But all that I was wearing was a stupid skirt and a top that was literally torn apart the moment that thing grabbed me and threw me across my room.” 

Eddie winced at the mention of you being thrown across the room, anger filling his chest. 

“S-So, I grabbed the first thing I could find.” His flannel “and after a while, I-I went out there-”

Eddie listens intently as you continue to tell him about the upside down. How you somehow found the courage to step a foot outside the trailer you were hiding in. Despite the fear and the uncertainty of what else could be out there- you still went out. 

You went back to your house, your room. In hopes that the gate to the other world, your world, was still there but it wasn't, there was nothing but a regular wall, no gate, no way out. 

You remember how scared you were, tears of fear and frustration ran down your face as you ripped the wallpaper off. 

“I went back to the trailer after I realized that I was stuck.” 

You could've gone somewhere else, you could've gone to the police station and look for guns or anything else you could've protected yourself with but instead you went back to his trailer. 

“I think, I stayed there for over a week without moving, I-I just stayed in the same spot.” 

You curled up on his bed and pulled the flannel tighter against your body, shielding yourself from the cold. Unaware that he was laying right beside you, just on the other side. 

“I thought I was going to die there.” Until, you heard him. It was faint at first and for a moment, you thought that you were imagining it, that you were going crazy but he was there, Eddie was there. 

“But then, I heard this s-song, this faint sound of a guitar playing-” 

Eddie furrows his brows, propping himself up on his elbow. His eyes were darting back in forth between you and your notebook that is laying on the nightstand. 

“I heard that voice, sometimes it would be singing, sometimes just talking. It might sound silly but it saved my life.” 

Maybe I was supposed to die in there.. I know I would have died, if it wasn't for him.. 

His eyes still linger on your notebook, realization slowly dawning on him. 

After all, you were the one that kept me going when I needed saving the most. Your voice, your faint voice that I could hear on the other side gave me hope and strength. The song you always played on your guitar, has probably saved my life- 

His eyes move back to yours. His heart skips a beat as he sees the way you look at him, with so much softness and warmth. He touches your soft skin, trailing his fingers up your body, until the tip of his fingers touch the chain around your neck “you were here, weren't you?” he whispers, sounding a little uncertain.

The time around your disappearance was a weird one. The lights in his room kept flickering, at first he blamed it on the trailer, it wasn't exactly luxurious and Wayne complained about the bad and weak electricity sometimes but somehow, Eddie knew that it wasn't that. 

Not only this, but he could almost feel another presence, it wasn't something that made him uncomfortable. It almost made him feel.. safe. For the first time, Eddie didn't feel alone. 

“You were right here.” he whispers as tears well up in his eyes. 

You nod, eyes softening at the sight of the tears in his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry.” he says, hand cupping your cheek “I'm so sorry I couldn't help.” 

“What- Eddie, you saved my life. I survived because of you, you kept me safe!” you whisper “you saved me, you gave me the strength that I needed in that moment.”

His eyes are filled with so many emotions, a tear slips down his cheek as he stares at you. 

He sits up on the bed, pulling you up with him, he wastes no second to pull you into his lap. Wrapping his arms around you, he just hugs you tightly. He is so overwhelmed with emotions, his heart is beating wildly in his chest at this revelation. 

“Eddie.” you whisper, softly. 

“J-Just let me hold you for a moment?” he asks almost weakly as he pulls you in tighter. He buries his face in your neck. 

You nod against him and lean into him, you run your fingers through his hair and close your eyes.

You never thought that you’d ever get to live this moment. You never thought that Eddie would ever search for your touch and for your affection. You never thought that he’d be with you like this.

Just a few days ago, you believed that he hated you. Hell, you believed that for years. And while there were certain moments, where Eddie would treat you with kindness, he would still always resort to his old ways, why? You still don't know.  

A part of you was scared to tell him about all of this, about the upside down, about the way you survived but another part of you felt relieved that he finally knows, that you could finally open up and tell him the whole truth. 

Eddie though, he is plagued by guilt and regret. He doesn't even know everything yet but it’s enough to make him feel horrible. The way he treated you all these years after everything you’ve been through, will be something that he will never forgive himself. 

What if he doesn't deserve you after putting you through all this pain and suffering after the hell you had already been through? 

“I was only able to find Will because you gave me the strength to Eddie.” you whisper. 

Eddie made you strong in a moment where fighting was out of question. You were weak, starved and freezing, you were on the verge of passing out and you might've never woken up again, if his voice didn't pull you back into reality. 

You managed to drag yourself up, you told yourself that you had to fight, that you had to find a way out of there-  you didn't find a way out, but you found Will. You heard his screams and you also heard the loud screeching of the Demogorgon. 

“And, I found him just in time, Eddie.” 

With the axe you had found on Eddie’s porch, you made a run for the forest. You ignored the burning in your lungs or the pain in your injured leg. It felt like you were running forever, the darkness didn't help either. The only source of light was the flashing of the red lightning. 

You had found both Will and the Demogorgon, the monster dragged him out of Castle Byers. The poor boy was screaming, begging for help. You didn't waste a second to lung forward and slam the sharp blade of the axe into the Demogorgon, catching him off guard. His grip on Will loosened as he screeched out in pain and you managed to pull Will up, who looked at you with both relief and fear in his eyes. 

The same fear that Eddie is holding in his eyes now as you tell him everything. How you got the rest of the scars on your body, how you managed to get out. You tell him about El, the gates and about the mind flayer, the ‘mall fire’ and the real reasons behind Hopper’s and Billy’s death.

Eddie is quiet the whole time, something so unusual for him. He just watches wide eyed, trying to process all the information. 

“T-The mind flayer.. it didn't possess you?” he asks after a while.

“No, just Will. He uh- he didn't run when he should have.” you explain “this thing, it was in his head a-and, he stayed, he should've ran but he stayed and it got him” 

Eddie blinks, running a hand through his hair, he stares at you with shocked eyes as he intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“It’s better to run than to stay, sometimes.” you say. 

“You didn't run.” Eddie points out. He reaches his hand out to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. You are surprised by how gentle he is. A part of you was scared that he’d regret what happened between the two of you and that he might push you away but he was so good to you. So different than how you know him but, it feels natural. Like it’s not the first time. 

“I did, when I had to.” you pause “sometimes, you have no choice but to run, sometimes there's no other way. I don't know how that thing got Billy but I’m guessing he didn't run either.”             

You end up staying up all night, answering any questions that he has. Not shying away from going further into detail, it’s not something you wished to ever do but he seemed to know more than you thought, Dustin has let him in on some things already, so it was no use lying to him and pushing him away, again. 

Just earlier, he didn't believe a word he has read in your notebook and he didn't believe a word Dustin has said either but now it seemed to have changed. He was looking at you differently now than before. 

The overwhelming feeling inside of him keeps growing more and more. He needs time to process it all. To find out that there wasn't just another world but also a bunch of monsters that only existed in his favorite game wasn't just shocking but it also made him question absolutely everything. 

“Are you okay?” you ask in concern.

“Y-Yeah, just- that’s a lot.” Eddie mumbles with a confused look on his face. His eyes settle on the chain around your neck once again and he reaches out to touch it, eyes meeting yours “this is mine isn't?” he whispers. 

You blink as you stare at him nervously. What if he thinks it’s weird that you not only have something that belongs to him but also that you have invaded his privacy, in a way. 

He notices the hesitation on your face, the slightly anxious look in your eyes. He knows exactly what you're thinking. He cups your cheek with his hand and leans down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

Your eyes widen slightly, heart skipping a beat in your chest. Even after everything that you've done that night, you’re still surprised by his action. 

He kisses you again, reassuring that you that it is okay, that he doesn't think that it’s weird.

“Yes, it’s yours.” you whisper “I only found it after I made it out. It was in the pocket of your flannel.” you explain. 

You didn't keep any of the clothes that you wore when you went messing, you threw them all away, except for his flannel. You took it home with you and found his necklace when you were digging through the pockets before throwing in the washer. 

“And you kept it.” he whispers.

“I did, I kept both the flannel and the necklace. I-It was the only thing that gave me comfort.” 

Warmth filled his heart but there were also tears stinging his eyes. 

All these years, Eddie had treated you horribly. He continuously hurt you and broke your heart. 

He made you believe that he hated you, that he wanted nothing to do with you. He treated you with such cruelty, he threw disrespectful and disgusting words at you. And you? You never treated him any differently, even after all of this. Even after he told you he hated you. You kept your kindness, you never mistreated him, you have always been respectful and sweet to him, despite being hurt by his behavior towards you. 

“You always played stairway to heaven by led zeppelin and you read Lord of the rings- like, every night, think it saved my life.” you tell him, a sad smile tugging at your lips as you look into his teary eyes. You reach out to him, wiping away the tear that is slipping down his cheek. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” 

He opens his eyes and stares at you with his pretty brown eyes. The sadness and the regret evident in his eyes. You don't want him to feel this way, you don't want him to beat himself up over the things he did. 

Maybe you were a fool for forgiving him so quickly, for letting him in when you promised yourself that you wouldn't do it but this is Eddie, your Eddie. He saved you, he made you strong in a moment where you didn't even think that it could be possible.

You might never forget the way you felt all these years but it doesn't matter now. Your love for him is stronger than your grief or the fear of getting hurt again.  

“Don’t thank me, sweetheart. Not after everything I-”

“I love you.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen, lips still parted as he stares at you in shock. He feels his heart stop and flutter at the same time. You love him.

“I love you, Eddie.” you repeat, not because you want him to say it back, no, you don't expect him to say it back. You just want him to know, you need him to know “I always did.”

He speaks your name softly, his voice filled with emotions just as his eyes are. 

“I-”

You cut him off and pull him in, slamming your lips against his. 

Eddie can’t even begin to explain the way he’s feeling right now. His heart is racing now, lips tingling from the kiss, the urge to pull you closer, to feel you closer overcomes him. He lays back and pulls you on top of him, hands resting on the small of your back as you tugs you closer. 

“You don't have to say it back, Eddie, I just need you to know.” you mumble against his lips. 

You know he’s not ready yet and you don't want him to feel pressured to say these words right now. The look in his eyes and his gentle touch is enough for you. 

So, he doesn't say these three little words now but he pours all his love into every kiss he pulls you in this night. He shows you how much he loves you through his touches and through the love he carries in his eyes and when you wake up in his arms that morning, he greets you with the same warmth in his eyes and you know, that everything is going to be okay. 

-

“I can't believe that you’re having a movie night without me!” Robin exclaims as she picks at her fries “and then Steve had the audacity to pick out my favorite movies when he knows I can't make it!”

A smirk tugs at your lips as you watch Eddie and his friends who are sitting right across from you, on the other side of the cafeteria. Even from a distance, you can see the blush on Eddie’s cheeks as both Gareth and Jeff lean in to take a closer look at Eddie’s neck. You know exactly what they’re looking at. 

“I mean, it might be my fault, he kept asking what movie you'd love to see. I mentioned all my favorite, duh.” Robin mumbles “you can thank me by the way, cause if it wasn't for me, he would've picked out Flashdance for the like the 10th time- wait.. do you think he’s secretly into dancing?” Robin wonders as she looks at you with furrowed brows “can you imagine him dancing? I mean he dances at parties but like, full on dancing?”

You lick your lips, smiling at Eddie as his eyes meet yours. He looks at you through hooded eyes, a smirk playing on his lips now. You start blushing as you think of your night together. His touch still lingering on your skin.

“He seemed a little grumpy- hey! Are you even listening?” she asks, snapping her finger in front of your face. 

You jump back a little, turning your head to look at her, you furrow your brows in confusion “what?” 

She raises her brows and shakes her head at you “nothing, forget it.” she mumbles as she looks down at her lunch, picking up her fry, she looks at it in disgust. 

You snort at the expression on her face “why do you keep getting the fries here when you know how gross they are?” you ask with a chuckle. She complains about the fries here, every single day and yet she continues to get them every time. 

“Because I have hope that they might get better.” she pauses, biting into it “but they don't.”

“Clearly.” you mutter under your breath as you look at her soggy fries. 

“Gotta start bringing my own lunch.” she says as she pushes the tray away and leans her elbows on the table, eying you. 

You narrow your eyes at her, brows knitting in confusion “what?” 

Robin squints her eyes, staring at you in silence for a moment. 

“What?” you repeat, chuckling nervously. 

“Hmm, nothing.” 

“Okay.” you mumble, brushing your a strand of hair behind you ear before you prop your elbow against the table, resting your chin in your hand. 

You hear Robin gasp “h-holy shit!” she exclaims “holy shit!” 

“What!?” 

She looks at you with wide eyed, a hand over her mouth as she looks at the marks on your neck “oh my- y/n!” she giggles.

Your eyes widen as realization sinks in, you immediately, cover your neck again. Staring at her with big eyes and a flustered expression on your face. 

She moves her hand away from her face and stares at you with a smirk “who?” she grins “who was it- wait, was it Steve?” she asks with wide eyes, knowing that you have slept over at his house the other day. 

“What? No!” you exclaim, blushing. 

The cafeteria is so crowded and filled with so many voices and laughters but somehow Dustin’s laugh is the one that pulls your attention towards Eddie’s table, again. Robin follows your gaze, eyes landing on Eddie who swats away Dustin’s hand as the younger boy tries to touch his hair or rather his neck. Gareth says something that makes the rest of the boys chuckle as he points to Eddie’s neck. He shakes his head with a smile on his face and then he looks at you. Robin looks between the two of you with a gaping mouth “no way!” she whispers in a hushed voice “did you guys-” she pauses, one look at your flustered face and she knows exactly what happened “oh, you did.” she breathes with a smirk on her face. 

“So, you finally got your shit together huh?” she asks, leaning back in her chair with a proud look on her face and a smile on her lips, one the falls from her face the moment, she grabs another fry and bites into it. 

-

You can’t stop smiling as you think of him. You’re still in shock by everything that has happened since the previous night and today. To your surprise, Eddie had clung to your side from the moment you had woken up this morning. 

You half expected him to keep his distance but he didn't. He begrudgingly parted ways with you. He walked you to all your classes and waited for you by your locker, looking like a kid on Christmas Day when he saw you approaching him. 

He had asked you out on a date tonight to which you unfortunately had to say no to seeing as you had made plans with Steve and the boys. Eddie’s shoulders slumped, insecurity lingered in his eyes at the mention of your best friend but he tried to shrug it off, after everything that happened last night, Steve shouldn't be a worry of his, right? 

“Tomorrow’s hellfire right?” you had asked to which he nodded his head “I can cancel-” 

Your eyes widened, the fact that Eddie was ready to cancel hellfire, something that he would usually never do, warmed your heart, he was ready to do it just to spend some time with you “no- it’s something you and the guys look forward to all week!”

“But-”

“I mean, you can always sneak into my room after hellfire.” you offered, with a shy smile on your face. 

His eyes widened and smirk appeared on his face “oh?” 

“Y-You just gotta be quiet, my brother will be home.” you said “but, I still wanna go on that date.” 

He smiled and grabbed your hand “Sweetheart, I’ll take you out on a date on Saturday, Sunday and every other day that comes after it.” he said “gotta make my girl happy and make up for some things.”

My girl.

“Hello?” Steve waves his hand in front of your voice, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

You blink as you realize that the front door is now open, his hand resting on the door frame as he stares at you with a confused smile on his face “what's got you smiling so hard?” 

“O-Oh, hey.” you mumble, trying to hide your flustered expression behind your hair “nothing, just excited for movie night! I brought snacks.” you grin as you hold the paper bag up. 

He chuckles as he takes the bag from your hand “come in. How are you doing? I tried calling last night but no one picked up.” he says as he closes the door “where were you?” 

You shrug your jacket off. Hesitating with your next words, you don't know how he’s going to react when he finds out where you have been and what you have done. 

He notices your reactions and the way you’re avoiding eye contact with him, putting the bag down, he steps closer to you “hey, is everything okay?” he sizes you up slowly, eyes lingering on your neck. 

You covered up the marks that Eddie had left on your neck, not because you didn't want Steve to see them but because you wanted to avoid questions and the awkward tension, especially in front of the boys. 

“Yeah! Everything’s.. fine.” you say. Finally raising your head to look at him, feeling guilty for keeping something from him. You usually told him everything, well, mostly everything. 

“You sure?” he asks, eyes flicking to the small injury on your cheek. The cut was slowly healing but the bruise on your face was a dark purple color now.

“Yes, Steve, everything’s good. I promise.” you say with a smile on your face. 

He eyes you slowly and nods “but-”

“There she is!” 

You turn around and see Dustin at the end of the hallway, a wide smile on his face as he walks towards you.

“Hey!” you smile as you open your arms, his smile widens as he hugs you “aw, I bet you missed me.” he chuckles. 

You laugh at his words, ruffling his hair “definitely missed you and your big ego, Dusty bun.” 

He groans “you know I hate that nickname!” he complains, shaking his head at you as he pulls away from the hug. 

You snort at his words “why? It’s so cute.” you grin. 

“It’s not- wait! Did you bring snacks?” he asks as his eyes fall on the bag “oh, you’re the best y/n, Steve only has those grandma snacks at home.” 

Steve puts his hands on his hips, turning towards Dustin with a frown on his face “grandma snacks?” 

Dustin nods his head as he picks up the bag “yeah.” he mumbles with narrowed eyes “I mean, who wants to eat raisin cookies? Not me.” he mutters with a disgusted look on his face as he walks back into the living room. 

“That was my mom’s snack pantry, dipshit!” 

“Sure.” Dustin chuckles. 

You look between them with an amused smile on your face “you like raisin cookies?” 

“What’s wrong with raisin cookies? They’re chewy and soft-”

“Oh you really are a grandma.” 

“Hey, can you guys stop making out? I wanna watch a movie!” you hear Mike yell from the living room. 

Steve groans, running his hand through his hair, he tries to hide the blush on his face as he turns away from you after mumbling a quiet ‘come on’ before he walks into the living room.

“Dude, shut up.” Lucas mumbles in a hushed whisper. 

“Yeah, shut up- y/n isn't into grandmas.” Dustin says loudly, smirking at Steve who gives him a glare as he walks past the other two boys and joins Dustin in the kitchen who unpacks all the snacks on the kitchen island. 

You shake your head, chuckling at his words. You greet the other two boys as you join them on the large couch, smiling at them. 

Lucas’s eyes widen as he takes a closer look at your face. Mike spilling out a “holy shit, what happened to you?” 

“I-”

“Did someone do this?” Mike asks, pointing to the bruise on your face. 

“I’m-”

“Wait, it’s not upside down stuff-”

“Did I hear upside down?” Dustin shrieks from the kitchen, spilling some of the popcorn as he drops the bag on the kitchen counter before he rushes towards you, plopping down on the armchair.

“What about the upside down?” Dustin breathes. 

“Guys! Let her talk!” Lucas complains as he throws his hands up in annoyance. 

Mike rolls his eyes and Dustin mumbles “yeah, yeah sure.” 

You look between the three of them, eyes wide, you turn to look at Steve who mumbles something under his breath as he picks up the mess Dustin left on the kitchen island. 

Turning your face back towards them, you almost want to start laughing at the way they all look at you “I’m fine, guys. No upside down stuff.” you pause and look at Mike “and no one did this to me.” you lie. 

Dustin’s eyes widen as he eyes the bruise “how haven't I noticed it?” he mutters under his breath “wait, how did it happen?” 

Mike scoots closer, trying to get a better look at the bruise. 

“I left the stupid kitchen cabinet open and forgot, I ran into it.” you chuckle nervously. Surprising yourself at how quick you are to come up with a lie. 

“Okay, that would've been believable if there wasn't a cut.” Mike mumbles. 

Great. You curse inwardly, why do these kids have to be so smart?

“Wait, I thought you fell.” Steve questions as he walks into the living room, looking at you with concern in his eyes. 

Lucas eyes you in suspicion, he had an idea of how it happened or who happened. Seth, you brother, always reminded him of Billy. He is just as unpleasant as he was. Aggressive, abusive and controlling. He has never heard or seen anything that could prove that he is abusing you but just from encountering him a few times, he could imagine what kind of things he is capable of. 

All eyes are on you, making you feel uncomfortable and the only one who seems to notice it is Lucas. Just like Max, you try to avoid any questions, your eyes dart back in forth and you look like you want to escape. 

“Hey, let’s talk about it later.” he suggests “let’s grab the snacks.” he says to you, patting your back, he motions you to follow him and you don't waste a second as you push yourself off the couch and follow him into the kitchen, avoiding eye contact with the other boys and especially Steve, who stares at you in confusion and concern. 

He looks lost. Lately, you haven’t been as close. You were slipping through his fingers and he doesn't know why. 

You sigh in relief as the tension leaves your body again. 

“Thank you.” you mumble, giving the teen a grateful smile. 

“Don’t mention it, I could tell you were uncomfortable.” he says “you don't have to talk about anything but, maybe it could help.” he shrugs as he grabs the bag of m&m’s. 

You gulp, nodding your head “I-I mean, nothing happened.” 

He squints his eyes, clearly not believing you “lying won't make things better.” he pauses “you don't have to talk to us- I mean, I get if you don't want to talk to us about anything super personal but you should talk to someone, maybe Steve,” he pauses again, a small smirk tugging at his lips “or Eddie.” 

You can’t even hide the smile that appears on your face at the mention of his name. 

Lucas chuckles at the look on your face “so you totally made up right? He was insufferable a few days ago, he was moping around, seriously I’ve never seen him this grumpy before,” he says with wide eyes “then, I saw him staring at you with his big sad eyes and he followed you around like some lost or kicked puppy.” 

You can't help but feel guilty for making him feel this way, he brought it upon himself and maybe, others would call you stupid and foolish for forgiving him so quickly but you can't help it. 

“Are you ladies done gossiping?” Dustin shouts from the living room. 

“Nope!” 

-

Movie nights with the boys are anything but uneventful and boring. Dustin tries to scare everyone, as always. Steve, who may or may not dropped the bowl of popcorn a few times whenever Dustin would scream “boo” in his face, continues to sigh in annoyance every single time, playing it off with an eye roll. 

Lucas pays no mind to Dustin but laughs at him whenever he starts screaming himself whenever there’s a jumpscare in the movie. 

“The movie wasn’t even scary!” Mike complains looking at the screen with a frown on his face as the end credits roll. 

“Are you kidding? I’m never going to sleep again! This dude kills you in your sleep!” Dustin exclaims.

“It’s just a movie.” Lucas mumbles, reaching for the chips on the table “Freddy Krueger isn't real.” 

“Yeah.” Dustin mumbles “what if there's someone else like him though? A child killer burned to death who’s haunting people in their dreams? We’ve encountered worse.” he shrugs. 

You and Steve glance at each other “what’s worse than a killer that murders you in your dreams?” he asks.

“Demogorgons.” Mike shrugs. 

“Demodogs.” 

“They're scary but you can kill them.” Dustin says “what're you gonna do when someone tries to kill you in your dreams?” 

“The upside down is worse than Freddy Krueger.” 

“Yeah, but-” Dustin suddenly stops, eyes widening “speaking of the upside down,” he mumbles as he turns towards you “how did Eddie find out about it?” 

“What?” Steve exclaims loudly “Munson knows about- what?” 

Fuck.

“Right! He was asking all sorts of questions!” Mike says, looking at a very bewildered Steve “he asked how y/n and Will got lost a-and what the upside down is!” 

“Yeah and Dustin said it's Australia.” Lucas chuckles. 

“What?” you mumble, unable to hide the amusement in your eyes. 

“Yeah he even started singing that down under song.” 

“I panicked! How does he even know about it?” 

Lucas turns towards you, he knows, that Eddie knows it through you somehow. Mike follows his gaze, eyes settling on you. 

Dustin continues to ramble, not even noticing that no one’s paying attention to him anymore. Steve looks at the boys before his eyes flicker to you, he can tell that you’re nervous and uncomfortable. 

You avoid his eyes, once again. Playing with the sleeves of your hoodie, your breathing becomes uneven. 

“How does he know, y/n?” Steve asks. 

And finally, you turn towards him “I-”

“Do you tell your little boyfriend everything now?” he asks, not even hiding the bitterness in his voice. 

“What?” both Mike and Dustin exclaim at the same time. 

“Boyfriend?” Mike mumbles “I thought you’re her boyfriend.” 

Steve's eyes flicker to him for a moment, shaking his head. 

“He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Who? Steve or Eddie?” Dustin asks with wide eyes as he looks between you and Steve. 

“Oh boy..” Lucas mumbles, running a hand over his face. 

“Can we not?” you mutter as you look at the angry expression on Steve’s face. 

He scoffs “no, I want to know how he knows. You do realize that it’s confidential stuff right?” 

Rolling your eyes at his words, you scoff in disbelief “like you care about confidential, Steve. You pulled Robin into all of this and told her about everything without caring about confidential and now you suddenly care? Right,” you pause as you get up “your problem isn’t that he knows, your problem is him.” 

He nods, not even caring about hiding his dislike for Eddie “yeah, yeah. He is my problem, y/n.” he says, raising his voice slightly “I mean, this guy has been treating you like shit all these years! Basically bullying you!”

“Wait, what?” Dustin asks, sadly. 

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. The boys shouldn't hear about any of this and they certainly didn't need to find out about what happened between you and him. Eddie is a good person and they don't need a false picture of him painted in their minds. 

You take a look at Mike and Dustin, both of their expressions dropped. A guilty feeling settles in and with that, your heart also begins to race. You feel uncomfortable and something’s pushing you to leave and run away. Not wanting to disappoint the kids even more. 

You have never gotten into a fight with Steve but you could feel the tension in this room, the anger was written all over his face and you weren't about to let the kids see a fight break out between two people that they were supposed to feel safe with. 

“I-I’m gonna go.” you mumble, wanting to flee before you cause more damage. 

You quickly walk past them, avoiding eye contact with any of them “I’m sorry guys.” 

“Hey!” Steve calls out to you, following you out into the hallway “we’re not done here.” 

“Yes, we are.” you grab your jacket and rush out of the house. 

Steve watches as you try to close the front door on your way out but he stops you “don’t you dare just walk away right now!” 

He slams the door shut behind him and runs down the stairs, trying to catch up with you “please, just wait!” he begs as he grabs your arms gently, standing in front of you, so you can’t leave. 

“I don't want to fight with you, Steve.” you mumble as you look up into your best friend’s eyes. 

“I don't want to fight with you either, I never want to fight with you.” he sighs, eyes softening “j-just- why did you tell him?” 

You look away for a moment “I-I didn't, not at first. I gave him the wrong notes for a class,” you pause “t-the wrong, notebook-” you lie. He doesn't need to know the whole truth about how Eddie found out so you continue to lie as you tell him all about how Eddie knows. 

“You said not at first.” he interrupts you. 

“What?” 

“You said, not at first- you didn't tell him at first b-but now he knows, everything?” 

You blink and take a deep breath “yeah.” 

“When?” he asks with a curious look on his face “when did you tell him?”

The wind blows through your hair and you close your eyes for a moment “why does it matter?” you ask, nervously.

“Just tell me!” he insists. 

The look in his eyes is desperate, a hint of anger and also fear lingering in them. You don't know why he's so set on knowing when or how you told him this. 

“Yesterday.” 

The scared expression on his face twists into both sadness and jealousy. Yesterday night. He knows where you had been now. You had spent the morning with him, before school and afterwards you had met up with Max, he knows that because Lucas told him that. He tried to call you a few times but no one had picked up and afterwards he had gone to your house to check up on you, see if you’re alright but the light in your room was out and your car was missing in the driveway. 

He lets go of your arms and takes a step back. He runs a hand through his hair and looks away with a clenched jaw. 

You watch him, his silence makes you anxious for some reason. You dig your nails into your palms as you cross your arms over chest. You don't know why you feel so guilty but the look in his eyes made your heart ache. 

“Steve.” 

“You were with him last night then?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Did you sleep with him?” 

You huff in annoyance, you don't owe him anything “why does it matter, Steve?” 

“Cause it does, okay? It matters to me.” he whispers. Even in the darkness you can make out the tears in his eyes “I- I don't want you getting hurt!” 

You believe him but you can also see something else in his eyes. This isn't the whole truth. 

“Is that all?” you ask. 

He huffs, rubbing his temples, he closes his eyes “did you sleep with him? Yes or no?” 

“Yes. Yes, I did sleep with him.” you shrug, you can’t even bare to look at him, right now, the anger is radiating off of him “I’m gonna go now.” 

“So what, are you with him now?” he asks, keeping you from leaving “are you two together?”

Your shoulders slump, blinking, you try to come up with something to say but you don't have an answer to his question. Are you together now? Eddie had only asked you out on a date and he didn't mention the word relationship once. 

You shrug “I-I don't know.” you mumble with uncertainty in your voice “I don't know what we are.”

Steve gives you a bitter laugh, he shakes his head “let me tell you what you two are- absolutely nothing. He got what he wanted, he fucked you and now he’s gonna move on to the next girl.” he says with anger in his voice.

You hold your breath, his harsh words cut deeply and he doesn't even seem to notice “cause that’s what you would do right?” you retort. You can’t believe him, you can’t believe that Steve, the same Steve that comforted you whenever you were sad and hurt, was throwing all these words at you now. 

“Me?” he mumbles, pointing his hand towards his chest “you think I would do that to you? Y/n, I-” he pauses and looks down for a moment. 

The truth is, he is in love with you and now as he stands here in front of you, he realizes that it’s too late, that he will never have a chance with you because your heart belongs to another man while his belongs to you. 

Steve was devastated when Nancy broke up with him, she was his first love, someone he wanted to keep in his life forever but a part of him, almost wasn't grieving as much as he thought he would. Because you were there. 

There was a moment, he remembers so clearly. When he dropped off Dustin at the snow ball two years ago, he sat in his car and watched Nancy with a sad look on his face, not because he wanted her back but because he came to terms with the breakup, it was over and he was okay with it, his heart wasn't hers anymore, he gave it to you. His eyes skipped past her and he found you, standing next to Jonathan who showed you something on his camera, you smiled and to this day, Steve can still feel the way his heart skipped a beat, so differently then how it felt when he was with Nancy. 

As he looks back at you, he’s suddenly overcome by anger. Why Eddie? After everything that happened, why him? 

“How can you be so stupid? You let that asshole touch you after everything he has put you through?” 

Steve doesn't mean to be so rude, he’s not trying to hurt you, he’s just shocked and hurt and maybe a little angry. He thinks that Eddie doesn't deserve you, that he isn't good enough for you, especially after everything that has happened in the past. 

You’re taken aback by his words, you hold your breath, your eyes are prickling with tears as you look into his eyes. 

“He’s playing with you, y/n! He’s playing with your feelings and you fucking let him!” he almost shouts, throwing his hands up not even noticing the way you flinched back a little “he’s a piece of shit-”

“Don’t talk about him like that.” you warn him, looking at him through teary eyes.

He scoffs “god.” he breathes as he looks up at the sky. 

“You don't know anything about him, about us.” you say, brokenly.

“Us?” he laughs “there's no us for you and Eddie, there's just a you.” 

Your bottom lip quivers, brows furrowed, your heart is racing and you stare at him in disbelief. An ache pushed against your heart and a lump formed in your throat. 

Maybe he’s right, maybe there is just you. There was always just you. You always loved him, despite the things he did and even when he didn't feel the same.

You look away from his eyes. The same eyes that are usually filled with warmth and love are now filled with anger, the kind that you've never seen in his eyes before. 

“Eddie is using you! And you let him!” he exclaims “he never cared about you or your feelings, he has been hurting you over and over again and now you think that he cares all of the sudden? That he- what? That he loves you? That’s bullshit, y/n!” 

As if that wasn't horrible enough, as if it wasn't enough to break you all over again. The person, that never failed to make you feel safe, the person that you could always find comfort in, spilled words that you never wanted to hear again; “you’re nothing but a warm body to him.” 

His words feel like a punch to your face and you flinch back. The pain in your chest is unbearable, Steve just threw you back to the moment when Eddie said the exact same words to you when he thought you had wrecked Steve and Nancy’s relationship. 

Go back to Steve, I bet he could use a warm body in his bed tonight.

You raise your head and your glassy eyes meet brown ones, filled with regret and panic as he realizes the damage that he's done. 

“W-Wait, I- fuck.” he mumbles, he tries to reach out to you but you slap his hands away. Sadness flashes in his eyes, you never denied his touch but now you flinch away from his touch, as though it would burn you if he laid his hands on you. 

He took it too far. And, as he looks into your eyes, he knows how badly he truly fucked up. 

Tears begin to stream down your face and you do nothing to stop them. The unbearable pain in your chest pulls you into a dark place, one that will only cause more damage inside of you. 

You take on last look at Steve before you walk away from him. You ignore him and the way his voice sounds so desperate and filled with regret as he says your name. 

He doesn't try to follow you, he only shouts for you until you’re no longer in his vision. 

You don't know where to go. Your house was never a safe place and you just left the place that you thought was a safe one. 

You want to see him but the fear that Steve’s words had inflicted on you, kept you from going to Eddie. What if he's right? What if there will always be just you. 

You wander mindlessly, unable to make out anything through your blurry vision. Your shoulders are shaking and you can’t stop the tears that seem to have no ending. Your head is hurting, your heart is aching and all you know is pain. 

- 

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst

[thranduilsperkybutt]

☾ the gold & the rust ☼

Pic Sources: 1 | 2 | 3

Pairings:  Astarion Ancunín/Tav!Reader Warnings:  NSFW; angst/comfort smut; yearning; Astarion is not ascended; mentions of past canon-typical trauma/abuse; the struggle of healing; Astarion has racing thoughts and you can't tell me otherwise; canon-typical biting; it's not about the sex it's about the feelings; spoilers for the endgame Word Count:  7,168 words Reader Gender:  Female Author:  Meg Summary:  You’ve told him you will find him some cure for his darkness; you are set on performing a feat no one in history has ever achieved, all for him, but he wonders if it is as futile as the sun laboring to join the moon. Maybe he is destined to forever look upon you with the knowledge that when your bright, beckoning light inevitably burns out, he will be left with only his darkness, alone again... A/N:  Look I blame Hozier for making too many Astarion-coded songs that make me sob my eyes out while thinking about the implications of his "good" ending. Astarion has literally changed my brain chemistry.

The sun cusps over the horizon, its soft tendrils spreading over a murky sky. Beckoning the night’s fleeing retreat with a gentle violence as the day demands more territory in each passing second. Sparse hues of blue manage to cling to some lingering clouds that have yet to meet the threateningly beautiful pink and orange sky.

Astarion reaches out from behind the heavy curtain and his darkness, towards the pillar of light that breaks into the privacy of your bedchamber. Pale fingertips dip hesitantly into the light, as if he could believe everything that has occurred over this past week has been only a dream. It takes but a moment for the evidence of his reality to meet him when his skin sparks and dusts under the light of day.

He flinches back, hissing lowly from the burning pain of it. Glaring down at his flexing hand as if the disdain in his eyes could change the fates that have turned the thread of his life into this ever-knotted thing. He’d never imagined he would miss having that damned illithid parasite in his head, yet here he was. Yearning to reach for morning again. Wishing to experience a dawn that may never welcome him again.

He hears the stirring moan, soft and drenched in exhaustion, and dares a glance away from his own skin and stinging regret. Stilling entirely, Astarion hopes he has not awoken you just yet. He does not wish for you to see him like this, in this state of self-pitiful detestation. Though he knows you may yet love him despite having seen it, showing the reality of his mind beyond his comfortable performances is easier said than done. Tension drips from his shoulders, if only a little bit, as he watches your body relax into the cushions with your blissfully ignorant slumber.

The sigh at his lips is shaky. Mournful. He looks back towards the sunlight and remembers how it had felt when it had forgotten how to punish him like this. He doesn’t know which is crueler: to have never felt it at all, or for it to be ripped away from him like this. In the brief time he was granted to finally walk in the sun again after the past two centuries, Astarion can’t help the fresh anger that bubbles up in him at the taking away of it. He didn’t deserve this--- any of it.

Truthfully, he has no clear memory of how the sun had felt to him when he was simply a mortal elf and not a spawn belonging to a master. It had been so long ago; memories fade over time when drenched in horror, he’s discovered well since. Still, something tells Astarion he loved the day even then as he did now. He’s certain he had always loved the heat of it--- the color.

The way it filters through your hair when you stand in the path of daylight, kissing the edges of your skin in a way he forever wished to share with it. It had been warmer and kinder to him than he had ever expected to receive, somewhat like you. You were undeniably beautiful in the light of day.

Even standing within the finality of the sunset of your journey together--- foes vanquished, coated in sweat and victory--- he had thought the same.

But nothing good ever lasts, he’s learned. At least, nothing but you. Astarion wonders if he would still grieve this much if he were to never have known the day at all. Would he know what he was missing? Would a piece of its cosmic heat have whispered of you to him, even then?

He can’t truly comprehend a world in which his fate had not become so intimately entangled with yours. Perhaps that is the worst part, how he knows he would always brave this feeling of loss to gain what he has with you. In the end of it all, he knows he has made the right choice to have this over the temptations of that infernal ritual’s power.

Despite that knowledge, Astarion truly hadn’t expected you to run after him when the lingering illithid protections dissipated from his being and the sun began its remorseless burning again. He had scampered away from the docks in an abject desperation, attempting to flee from the light’s betrayal. Astarion was the objectively faster party, but you had found him eventually--- you always seem to find him--- after he had taken to cowering behind wooden crates that cast a meager shadow of solace. He had been shaking, cradling himself, closed off entirely from the world as that sickeningly familiar taste of how things had been before--- back when he was still Cazador’s--- came flooding back onto his palate. His mind had become drenched in a fear he had thought could never claim him again.

You’d cut through all of it with your worried call of his name. Plunging him into the magical darkness you cast upon the both of you to shield him from the sun’s assault with such a thoroughness that not even you could see through it. His call of your own name sounded far too broken on his tongue for his own liking, but you’d followed the sound towards his outstretched arms all the same.

Dragging him up into yours, only a sliver of the calamity in his soul dissipated when you promised him blindly, “Come, quickly, I’ll get you someplace safe.”

Despite his better efforts, his voice shook as he allowed you to clumsily drape your cloak over his curls in darkness, unable to bring the deflecting humor to his voice that he so achingly wished would return, “Darling, you are a sight for sore eyes; or, you would be, I’m sure, if I could see you.”

“I told you this would come in handy,” you shot back, and he had been grateful for your effort at ignoring the bittersweet grief that so clearly drenched his soul in favor of reminding him of how he had teased you for spending a good amount of your gold on this very cloak when you’d all first arrived in the city.

His breath remained shallow, but his hand tightened over yours in what he hoped you knew was gratefulness when you finished ensuring the fabric had covered any of his exposed skin, “I shall never question any of your purchases again, on my honour.”

“Of course you will, Astarion,” he heard the slight worry in your voice as much as you tried to hide it. He felt the spell waning and with it the returning disorientation that even slight sunlight left him in. You had grasped his arm firmly and spoken with a confident determination that he suspected was as much for your comfort as it was for his, “Now, get ready to move quickly and keep your head down; the dark won’t last much longer.”

You were good for your promises, he’d learned over his time travelling with you, and that had brought some small comfort as the day reemerged before he’d had a chance to respond. Then, you were maneuvering him through the city, towards the darkness of Sharess’ Caress, with such a precision that he might think it more important than any quest you’ve had thus far if he hadn’t known better. Gripping him tightly the whole way, Astarion still has not dared tell you how grateful he was for it--- for you, surprising him against his better judgement every time with how you simply are.

It has been nearly a week now of you coming to his side in the night and yet some part of him still expected the other metaphorical shoe to drop. For you to come to your senses and tell him that you simply cannot carry on like this with him.

He wanted to believe you. Gods, how he wants it. Yet, he still felt like a fool to think he’s earned some love such as yours. He wants to believe he deserves the way you look at him like he can be what you see him to be. It’s too dangerous for his heart to invest in the thought that he maybe can. That maybe he is, already.

For you to look at him and tell him, “We’ll find it together. I promise we’ll find a way for you to walk in the sun again,” with such determination--- for you to be someone who genuinely believed the both of you could achieve it---

Well, you simply must be mad. He doesn’t know how else to explain these little ideas of yours.

Astarion figures you’ll continue to be as much a surprise to him as you’ve made a habit of in the past… and then there was that persistently annoying optimism of yours to contend with.

But this?

He doesn’t think that you understand the truth of the choice you’re making, to stay with him. To love him. How could you know it and still look upon him with such eager hopefulness as you do? He barely understands it at all himself, and he’s had centuries to come to terms with what he’s become. Forgive him if it’s a bit difficult to begin to understand just what “being something better than what Cazador made him” truly means.

He understands how much he wants you, though. He wants it all. The life that was stolen from him, the opportunities, but mostly for you to be there--- here. Where you’ve not wavered an inch from his side; you’ve given him no reason to think you plan on leaving anytime soon.

Why does he still fear it so much, though?

Some part of him had thought--- hoped foolishly, rather--- that killing Cazador would somehow fix two centuries of torment. Fix him. In the brief time after, he discovered that it hadn’t. In his elongated struggle, he worries it never will.

Nightmares still plague him, he still jumps at shadows, he still has thoughtless fear dart through his mind before he remembers again that his former master is well and truly dead. That simply existing in happiness was the rebellious proof of his victory over a man who he hopes will not haunt him forever. When he is with you, Astarion almost believes that Cazador won’t. It is some charm you have bewitched over him surely. Your ability to calm this chaos in him with soft eyes and patient hands that do not seek to own him, yet he eagerly chooses to belong there all the same.

Astarion still has trouble loving you like he knows you deserve to be loved. There are times when he can barely stand physical touch, though craves to want yours. And you understand the duality of the contradiction in him, taking only ever what he is willing to give.

Sometimes he thinks you too understanding, with little concern of how this affects you. He’s always baffled by how selfless you can be sometimes, particularly when you’re taking in strays. He has come to admit, if only to himself, that he does see the irony in his complaints. Moreso, he’s terrified of what will happen when that seemingly endless well of care you hold within you for others inevitably runs out.

What will happen when you can no longer bear his eccentricities? The compromises? The sacrifice that his double-edged love requires of you? Will there come a time when all he offers as part of being in this real love becomes too overwhelming?

Astarion had fallen in love with you in the easy warmth of sunlight. Looking upon you now as the dawn creeps against your sleeping form, his heart aches as he wonders if he can truly doom you to a life in his complicated darkness.

Selfishly, one thought consumes his mind--- he knows he wants to. He would want you, no matter the cost to you both. You have told him over and over again how you want the same but, Gods, he can’t figure out what he has done for this sliver of joy and it eats away at him in the dark. It’s unreasonable what he asks you to give him, but he’ll take it all the same. Bitterly he thinks, if he were a better man--- the man you see him to be--- he might even feel guilty for it.

For now, all he feels is the monstrous need to escape these racing thoughts in his head.

When will you walk away to join the sunlight for good? Hells forbid the answer his weary heart is preparing for ever be spoken from your lips.

Astarion hopes the day never comes when you choose to go where he cannot follow. He wants to spend all his days traipsing after you, wherever you may lead, no matter how much he may complain about it for show.

Astarion wants to spend all of it, whatever it may be, whatever he’s got left, with you. He’s terrified of the day that you change your mind on him. Fearful that you may one day decide these sleepless nights with a vampire spawn who can offer you nothing more than his undying love and sarcastic quips are nothing compared to the full life you could have with someone else. This theoretical, easy life in the sun that he dares to think he is stealing from you by loving you as he does.

Well, he supposes that reclaiming Cazador’s palace is always an option, rather than his other fantasy of burning it to the ground. Spending an eternity draping you in finery and keeping you to himself within a palace feels like something he should want, but he can’t help to think that it would be no better than making his love for you into a somewhat prettier cage.

More than he wants you, he needs you to freely want him. He’d be tempted to take up praying again if he had any faith that it could solidify your love for him forever, but deep down he doesn’t want heavenly intervention. He wants you to want to be with him--- to choose him willingly and without any regret for what the inevitable sacrifice will be. That understanding is, perhaps, what makes his heart swell with this bittersweet glory over all else.

You’ve told him as much and what your lips did not confess to him willingly, your body has whispered to his with an adoration that threatened to scorch him in much the same way of your beloved daylight. You’ve told him you will find him some cure for his darkness; you are set on performing a feat no one in history has ever achieved, all for him, but he wonders if it is as futile as the sun laboring to join the moon. Maybe he is destined to forever look upon you with the knowledge that when your bright, beckoning light inevitably burns out, he will be left with only his darkness, alone again--- this being the most horrible realization of all to have come to him tonight.

Hells, how desperately he wants to believe you, but Astarion has always had difficulty getting his hopes up. He hasn’t been known to bet on losing dogs, and he certainly doesn’t bet on his own odds these days.

But he figures you have more than enough hope for the both of you.

A minute smile quirks his troubled lips at that thought, watching your fingers twitch in your slumber. He shouldn’t doubt you as he does; you’ve given him everything. His freedom, his salvation--- even from himself, when he hadn’t known how much he needed it. Things he can never repay, and yet you’ve never asked him for a repayment. He owes you everything, but you’ve been adamant in tempering his sense of obligation. You’ve reminded him that everything he's done, he’s chosen for himself.

You’ve only ever asked him to love you, and that you have had for far longer than you know--- far before you ever actually plucked up the adorable courage to ask him for it.

He has come to love you more than he’s ever loved anything for as far back as he can remember. The depths of his adoration could scare even him with the raw vulnerability he is left with when it comes to you. How beautifully all his plans and plots for self-preservation have backfired upon him, though. He would not have you destroy his peace of mind in any other way.

Maybe one day, he’ll admit to you exactly when his nice, simple plan truly began to fall apart. The idea dances in his mind, of how you’ll react to that particular information. You’d hang on his every word, he thinks--- it would be rather pathetic of you, if he weren’t in much the same state.

Gripping the curtain, Astarion finally deems it time to push the budding light out of his darkness. If it is to be the only place he may have you for all of your days, he’ll make his darkness a sacred place. He decides he shall worship you in it--- all other gods have forsaken him already. Until the day his little hero saves him once again, he will indulge in this darkness with you.

The patriars nipping at your heels for guidance, the unwashed masses of the Gate clamoring for their glimpse of his hero, even your other traveling companions--- none of them shall invade upon this sanctuary.

He moves towards the bed, returning to you. Exhausted from a late day in the city and an even later night of enjoying his company, you’ve taken to claiming sleep when you can these days. The evidence of your labor rests in the dark circles under your eyes. He doesn’t think he could stop you from your philanthropic efforts assisting the city’s reconstruction even if he tried.

Still, right now, in these hours you are only his.

He dips his weight onto the bed and lays himself alongside you, pulling you tenderly against him as his lips graze your neck. Truly, he knows it is cruel to wake you, but he doesn’t know how he can manage to miss someone like this when you are right before him. It is as if his very soul yearns for you. He melts against the rhythmic flutter of your heart, and it sounds more like his home than the palace he has spent the last two hundred years in ever could.

Teeth graze against your carotid pulse, and you stir slightly. He hums into the soft warmth of your flesh, biting without intent to draw blood--- though the thought of it does cross his mind. He has never recovered from the taste of you. Cold fingers curl into your bare hip, dragging you slightly closer at the feeling of your waking movements.

Your pulse picks up against his lips. Astarion hears the patter of your heart in your ribs as his tongue drags up your throat towards your ear. Your breath hitches when his lips graze your jaw, but your eyes remain closed.

His lips twitch with mirth at your effort to have him do as he pleases.

“Quite the show, my little love, but I know you’re awake,” Astarion murmurs, slurred from the back of his throat like a man lost in thorough indulgence. Drunk with the scent of you on his skin, he leaves another faux bite on your jaw as you squirm beneath his assault.

“Shall you feed again, is that it?” yawning, your hand rubs at your eyes before you blink them open. When his hands run up your sides, your answering shiver reminds him of that first night he’d fed from you. Lit only by the campfire, you had allowed him to take too much before stopping him, even then.

He chuckles breathlessly, shifting the covers to invade your space more completely as you come back to your consciousness piece by piece, “As tempting as it is when you offer oh so nicely to be my treat, I hunger for something more satisfying this morn.”

“Ah,” you gasp from sleep-drenched shock, reacting on a delay as he brings his knee up to strategically push your legs open. Allowing you to feel the growing length of him through the thin linens between you, he levels you with his weight in a slow grind. Blinking up at him, your eyes focus in a darkness lit only by the dim glow of dawn beyond the curtains when he languidly rolls his hips against yours, “A-Astarion---!” He is watching you peculiarly, with a glint of some unreadable darkness in his eye that you can’t quite place. The breathless whimper at your lips sends that warmth of yours straight down his spine, “What’s gotten into you?”

He hasn’t had you since that night he had been so drenched with adoration that he’d taken you on his own grave and truly confessed how he loved you. Ever since then it had been battle and struggle, one after another, in your pursuit to stop the Absolute for good--- constantly ensnared in some new concern that stole any potential moment he could’ve used to steal you away from duty. After the final battle, Astarion had been so dejected by the return of his vampiric limitations, and you had been near constantly pulled away to assist the public---

There was the part of him that enjoyed indulging in the easy-going intimacy you offered him. The lack of pressure to perform was something he had not yet fully become accustomed to; a certain comfortability that has been cultivated between the two of you over the time you’ve been together. The sense of knowing that he is well and truly safe with you. Despite this understanding, he wished to freely want you in every way he was capable of.

And, oh, how he has come to want you over these last few days.

It was so mindlessly simple and immensely complex. He can barely put into words to describe the ways he wants this. Carnally, intimately, wholly, eternally--- nothing is a sufficient descriptor. Maybe in that vast library that your wizard, Gale, insists on boasting about showing him one of these days, Astarion will find an all-encompassing word for how he wants to have you forever.

As it stands currently, he settles on the comfortable seduction that has become second nature to him, “Actually, I was quite hoping to have gotten into you by now, lover.”

He’ll never get over how you melt for him; how you fall for every word. He watches the heat he stokes behind your eyes, the flex of your fingertips where they lay beside your head on the pillow.

Then, he descends upon you.

A practiced mouth parts yours as his cool hand takes the long route from your waist to your throat, indulging in the feeling of everything in-between. He sets your skin on edge in his wake, stirring a familiar feeling that he was entirely too good at urging from you to settle low in your stomach.

Gentle fingers find his hair and he feels the scrape of your nails against his scalp when he finally rests his hand on your throat to hook his thumb beneath your jaw, kissing you deeper. Passionately. As he always does, Astarion excels at unravelling you in every way, but you have no idea how much you manage to rebuild him with your every touch.

Your body welcomes him completely, urging him closer in ways he doubts you are consciously aware of. His hips rock into yours with each passing second that your heat spreads through him, feeling himself grow harder at your soft moans that meet his eager mouth. When you tug slightly at his hair, he lets a cautioning sound fall from his tongue onto yours, but you only nip defiant teeth at him in response.

And then he’s pushing your hands down, captured at the wrists by his. Pinning you to the pillows while he draws back just enough to catch the breath that is coming, labored, from the both of you.

“I’m sorr---” you begin, remorselessly.

“Telling a pretty lie won’t save you from me,” Astarion leans close once more, dragging his skin against your cheek as he kisses a trail towards your ear, feeling you test his grip at your wrists with a half-hearted tug. “I do believe all of this ‘Hero of Baldur’s Gate’ business has kept you from the more important happenings of our bedchamber. It would be a terrible pity if you continued to neglect your baser desires when I am in such a mood to indulge you.”

“Are you sure you’re talking about me?” you tease and he feigns a mild shock at the insinuation that his own behavior is the reason you’ve yet to bed him.

“I’ll have you know I am all indulgence, unlike you, darling hero,” but when he leans away, your eyes capture his. Reading him too easily, you know something is wrong as his carefully constructed mask falters, if only for an instant. It’s all you need, and Astarion regrets losing himself for the moment as he watches your softening gaze survey him.

“Is that so…?” You’re left guessing at what troubles him, “If you missed me, you could’ve just said so. The city can survive a few days.”

“Does the city know that?” it would be so easy to leave it there, to let you think you’ve figured him out once again. The anxiety in his veins won’t allow it, however, and his mouth speaks before his mind can instruct him to shut up, “Tell me, darling, that you won’t regret it someday… Of course, you won’t--- but I would like to hear it all the same.”

He looks down on you with growing vulnerability, confidence cracking. That detestable anxiety that has plagued him all evening coming to the forefront of his mind once more. Crimson irises swirl with a reckless uncertainty and it reminds you of how he had looked upon you when confessing his initial manipulations in those early days of your relationship.

“Regret what?” the confusion on your face nearly has him losing his nerve, but he chokes back the urge to dismiss you so quickly.

“I don’t want you to regret… choosing me,” his voice is clearly pained at the thought, cold hands at your wrists tightening like he is afraid you will run from him should he let you go. “Choosing us, I mean. I am well aware of all you shall endure if you spend each painstaking night of forever with me. It is a price I was willing to pay for my freedom, but you… I--- I know you have said that I am what you want, but I don’t want this to be one of your regrets. I don’t want you to resent me for keeping you here---”

Astarion was constantly preparing himself for the ending of all things; it is a part of his nature that you wish you could soothe with simple words alone. It will be much more difficult to satisfy than that and you know it, but you intend to spend all your years working towards earning his unwavering faith in you. This trust that he has so endearingly placed upon your soul, when every piece of his own screamed at you for doing the same. You doubt he knows how, if you were to someday break him in the way he so fears, you feel it would be as if you were destroying a part of yourself.

You cut off his rambling with a firm, “Astarion!” like it hurts you to hear him talk of himself in this way. His mouth snaps shut as you search him for the cause of this doubt, “Have I done something to make you think I will have these regrets you worry of?”

“Well, no, but---”

When you pull at his grip this time, he wordlessly releases you, only for you to reach up to him to drag him down into a tight embrace, “Then, why is your heart so troubled?”

“I---” he chokes on the word and how shallowly his lungs fill with you holding him so securely in your arms. Maybe it is better that you hold him so closely that you cannot see how he crumbles against you, dissolving into your grasp as if you are the only thing holding him together when he confesses, “I know what it is to live this life of darkness. You are so---! You deserve everything I can’t give you, starting with a life surrounded by the beauties of daylight.” His head turns, misty eyes catching your worried stare. He regrets the distress he’s caused you, but moreso he needs to hear your reassurances that his mind has gotten the better of him in this. He has never hoped so pitifully that he was wrong.

“Astarion,” heart swelling at the loss in his eyes; he looks to be mourning for you. As your thumb smoothes along the lines of his jaw, you come to realize the depth of his lingering sadness, “tell me, what good is the sun? The sun cannot care for me as you do or feel my love in return. A life of pure sunlight is worthless if it means living it without you.” You watch his breath catch in his chest, a stifled sob of his relief that he does not give into so easily.

His voice comes strained and nearly sounds like he’s on the verge of arguing with you, “You so obviously will miss it! You talk of finding a way for me to ‘walk in the sun again,’ but what if it’s impossible? What if we waste our lives searching for something that was never attainable? When you realize it, I wouldn’t have you look differently upon me.”

“Is that it? You think I talk about finding you a cure for my own benefit?” you scoff, before leaning towards him to place a soft kiss against frowning lips. He lingers in the middle ground as you depart just enough to demand he listen, “I only think of you, Astarion. Since the moment I first saw you, you’ve consumed my mind, body and soul. The sun was made for you--- and you’d know it if you ever had the privilege of seeing yourself in it. I only want for you to be happy.”

The arch of his brow tells you he still doesn’t fully believe you, despite his attempt at a half-hearted joke through the tightness in his throat, “I do quite enjoy when you call me beautiful.” It’s more than that, and you both know it, but if he were to ask you right now to name one thing about the light of day that you know you will sorely miss, it would be never seeing him in it again.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh at him with a lopsided smile, “Oh, my silly vampire, I love you much more than the sun. Without you, I would not want any of it. In fact, you can take the moon and stars, too, while you’re at it---”

He cuts you off with the eclipse of his mouth on yours, hands spread along your ribs to dig eager fingertips into your skin as he pulls you in as close as he can manage. The kiss is more languidly meaningful than the last; he intends on burning the feeling of you into his mind to replace the torrid thoughts there. If your words had not been enough to convince him, you hope the way you receive his body with your own can. Every part of you calls to him, blood and sinew, breath and bone, flesh and spirit.

Maybe it’s clear to him now, that you are as intertwined as the earth and sea. Should the tide of your soul ever depart from his shores, he can rest in the knowledge that your reunion is inevitable. As far as you are concerned, you are fated in such a way that not even the gods above or the devils below can alter the course of how your body fits beneath his--- how you shall always welcome him home.

You will have him, for as long as he will have you.

When he finally withdraws, he dares not go far, eyes blinking open slowly in a melancholy acceptance, “How can I be so fortunate?”

Brushing the mess of white curls behind his pointed ear, you hum at the shiver that runs through him when your fingertips graze the skin there, “I don’t know, but it’s about time things start going our way, don’t you think?”

“That it is,” his groaned agreement softens the worry in his eyes and he melts into the stroke of your hand against his temple.

“What you should be worrying about, Astarion, is whether you’ll regret choosing me when I’m all old, wrinkled, and grey,” it’s only half of a tease, and you hope he can’t see through the smile on your lips. The thought has been on your mind for some time after realizing that the two of you were going to somehow survive everything you’ve endured these past months.

“Darling,” he scoffs, nudging his nose with yours, soothing you as much as you do him, “knowing how well trouble finds you, we’ll both be long dead before either of us need worry much about that.” His lips graze yours, when he gives you his earnest answer, “For our sake, I hope to spend every moment we have left with you, watching every sunset and sunrise we are granted until the end takes us both.”

It's more complicated than that, but most real things usually are.

What isn’t complicated is how you feel beneath him, tongue tracing his teeth as he ravishes you. There is a completeness that comes in the way of his body fitting against yours. This reassurance in your touch will never falter. Even if your mind were to eventually escape you, he will know you were always his. If the world were to fall away in this moment and leave nothing but this room, Astarion would happily float out his days with you here forevermore.

He loves you. You love him.

He can scarcely comprehend anything else. Nothing else matters, he decides.

Nothing but your little shivers and whines when his fingers delve down the soft flesh of your stomach--- nothing but the arch of your body into the exploration of his touch. Nothing is worth more than his name whispered from your lips in that scandalous tone you reserve for these moments he sets your skin ablaze with teeth and tongue. You call to him like it were a prayer, but Astarion has hardly done anything so holy to warrant the way you say his name.

His sole inkling of faith is spent on the belief that he could live his whole life, his extended eternity, and never tire of loving you.

Soft and demanding partner within the thrill of his touch, you’ve learned, and his hands part you for him with that comforting understanding. Insistent and hesitant are your finger’s answer to him, digging into the nape of his neck as your head falls back against the pillows. Throat bared, it’s a wonder he doesn’t take another bite of you where he’s done so frequently before, but his attention is too acutely focused on the aching wetness between your thighs and his slender fingers.

Your lips part in an open moan of his name with how expertly he drags pleasure through your veins with each stroke within you, and he drags his teeth against your jaw in a growl, “You sweet, generous thing, always so ready for me.” Finally, he grants you some relief from his constant teasing, pressing the heel of his palm into your most sensitive nub. He allows you to seek your own pleasure with each desperate grind of yourself against the hand that continues to stroke pleasure from within, “Do you have any idea what the sight of you does to me? How dearly I long for us to never leave this bed?” The rasp of his voice has heat rushing up your spine, muddying your thoughts with each continuance of his lascivious tongue, “Leave the Gate to fend for itself, my dear, for I should have you like this always, stripped bare with me between your thighs.”

“Have me then, Astarion,” you really did purr for him in times like these and as much as he enjoys teasing you for it, he truly does relish the tone you get when he has drenched you in lust. His reaction at your words is groaned against your throat; he’s so near, but his hand retreats from you all the same. Never to neglect you for long, your lover is soon tearing at your smallclothes with an impatience that was not wholly unexpected from him.

He pushes his weight onto his forearm beside your head, using his other hand to tug at the laces of his loose breeches while glancing down between you. His eyes, rubies in the darkness, snap to yours and it is as if he has dipped you in firewine and struck a match. You burn for him, from the inside out and in such a way that you know he has thoroughly ruined you for anyone else. You are dripping with it, onto the sheets and the new press of his length against your core. His indulgent rub of himself through your folds is punctuated by him grinding into you, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling for but a moment.

Hair disheveled, you watch the beauty of him as he swallows deeply before capturing you in that piercing gaze once again, “I think I shall have you, now--- how did you just put it?” He crowds you with his arms, and your breath hitches at the feeling of him catching at your entrance when he murmurs lowly, deliberately, “Body and soul? Isn’t that right, my love?”

The way you drag him down into your kiss as he pushes into you is a messy, desperate thing, but it only seems to urge him on. You simply cannot seem to get close enough, though not for lack of trying, as he fills you gloriously. Astarion gasps into your mouth, staggering the push of his hips against yours, devouring you until he is left seated so deeply within you that you can hardly breathe. Then, hands around your thighs push your legs up, and he fits impossibly further.

You sob a moan against sharp fangs, deliriously full of him as he begins a slow fucking that is just enough to drive you into madness. Clambering for something to ground yourself, your nails dig into his back, scraping against the scars that remain there--- his hips snapping faster into you at the feeling of it.

He smears saliva across your jaw and down your throat, understanding your breathless, “Please, please,” for what it is. Permission.

Pain is so fleetingly brief that it may as well not exist at all, because when he bites down hard enough to draw blood from your skin, you are met so suddenly with a lightheaded ecstasy that is compounded by the pleasure he pulses through your body. Only the raw stretch of his every thrust keeps you from dissipating into delirium entirely. You are left keening beneath him as he dissolves into the taste of your blood, feeling his moans against your neck and the way his thrusts begin to match the drum of your heart in your ears. Astarion’s fingers drag in the space between, stopping only when he has found the base of his seat within you.

You feel your heart skip in your chest before he ceases the meal he’s made of you, licking your throat of the sloppy blood that threatens to yet spill. The iron of it meets the smell of sex in the air and he strokes his fingers against where he continuously plunges so deep within you; the wet sounds of your coupling may have been embarrassing if you weren’t so disoriented with the raw need of it. Your every nerve has fiercer concerns than your fickle dignity when he is working to make such a wonderful mess of you as this.

“Delicious,” Astarion groans into your shoulder, nipping and groaning against whatever he may get his mouth on as he feels your increasingly erratic clenching with his harshening pace. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, feeling him reach to draw tight circles at your clit as his own pace begins to falter. Neither of you will make it much further through this. He is left stained, begging upon your skin, “Come with me--- Hells, darling--- I need you to---"

Finding a grip in his hair allows you to drag his head sharply back to force his open-mouthed gaze to cast upon you once more, desperate to see him as he falls apart with you.

The sight of him is nearly enough for you to lose what little sense you’ve held to; while his complexion has turned slightly rosy with the assistance of your fresh blood, he still looks upon you with a consuming hunger all the same, “I love you.”

“Gods---!” dark eyes slam shut as he gasps out your name before all control leaves him in the mindless oblivion that he drags you down into alongside him. Scorching pleasure burns from the inside out as he loses himself in the trembling heat of your rapture, dissolving into a wild and erratic pace that bursts sparks of euphoria behind your eyes.

You are both left in the sticky aftermath of it, heaving mingling breaths as tension melts into you from where he collapses and lingers atop you. You hold him, content to have his softening length seated within you for all eternity as you let him continue his mindless caressing of your skin.

He has said it before, but it will never be enough, so he says it again in the hoarse aftermath of your lovemaking, “I love you, darling. You have made me so… happy.” Should you ever forget it, he is prepared to remind you for the rest of your days, “Thank you.”

Your own repeated declaration is sighed with a contentment that you hope will last a moment longer as your fingers take to stroking through his hair when he lays his head against your chest. Can he hear it from there, you wonder, how your heart whispers only the sweetest of sentiments for him? You like to think he can.

“Astarion?” you finally croak after some time, and he hums soft acknowledgement without much movement. “We should watch the next one together.”

“The next what, my treasure?”

“The next sunrise.”

There is a smile in his voice when he murmurs, “Always.”

#astarion fanfic #astarion ancunin fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 female reader insert #female reader insert #newstuff female reader insert #fanfiction #gif not mine #nsft #smut #author meg #fanfic by me

[hellfirenacht]

Reader ==> Hang Out With Eddie One on One

lsekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<-- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Recommended Previous Chapter: ==> N/A

Chapter Summary: It's your first time hanging out with Eddie Munson one on one.

Tags: angst, hurt/little to no comfort, mentions of nausea but Reader does not throw up, Reader has a small panic attack, references to Flight of Icarus events, Oops! All Angst!

@jo-harrington I did warn in my list that I could be a Monkey's Paw Author

Reader ==> Ride Shotgun with Eddie

Your body almost hurt from how stiff you felt, both from the shitty futon you’d been sleeping on at Benny’s on the nights that the different sports teams weren’t trashing the place, and from how tense you felt sitting shotgun in Eddie’s van. 

You wished you could relax and not come across as a total weirdo to the guy sitting next to you. Eddie was currently driving you to his place, with the promise of letting you borrow a few cassettes and selling you some weed. 

When you thought back to your old life before sliding into this world, you had hazy memories of smoking with friends, but sometimes you remembered differently. Either way, it was a good excuse to spend some one on one time with him. 

If you didn’t know anything about Eddie it’d be easier, but so far you couldn’t look at him for longer than a few seconds without thinking about-

Well, you were just going to not think about that. Not yet. 

Eddie took a sharp turn and you reached up instinctively to grab the “oh shit” handle and tried not to slam into the door. 

“Jesus, Eddie.” you muttered, wondering if his driving would kill you before you had a chance to try and save him. If he could hear you over the sound of Judas Priest blasting through his old rattling speakers, he didn’t show it. 

You dared to look at him out of the corner of your eye. Eddie was wearing a band shirt so faded you couldn’t make out what it said from this angle, and ripped jeans. His head was moving to the music and you could see him mouthing the words the the song that was playing, and his hands were banging against the steering wheel occasionally. 

This was Eddie’s world and you were just living in it. Literally 

“We covered this song once.” Eddie said, looking over at you for a second. Your heart jumped for a second and you wondered if you would ever get used to him acknowledging you. “My band I mean. Corroded Coffin.”

“Oh, yeah?” you responded with a slight pause beforehand. Wish you weren’t so fuckin’ awkward, self. You chastised yourself. 

“Yeah, in middle school we were all forced to perform at the talent show.” Eddie laughed, mostly to himself. “It was a nightmare. I thought I was gonna puke, man.” 

You stared at him, wrapping your mind around this. Why was it so easy to accept that the other characters had lives before, during, and after what you had seen on tv but with Eddie it was different? 

Because he only had ten minutes of screen time before he was wanted for murder. You reminded yourself. 

“They forced you to perform?” you asked, trying to imagine him, Gareth, Jeff, and Grant as pre-teens. Had the other kids been forced to perform? Steve? Nancy? You made a mental note to ask about that later.

“Yeah it was a stupid rule.” Eddie took another dangerous turn that made you grip your seat with white knuckles. He at least decided to turn down the music just a bit before continuing with his story. “I avoided it as long as I could but they managed to corner me into signing up. I refused to go down alone though so I roped some friends into joining me and thus, Corroded Coffin was born.”

“So you’ve been friends with the others since middle school?” you asked. If Eddie hadn’t been driving like a maniac you might have been able to relax a little as he led the conversation. 

“Oh, no. Gareth joined in on drums in my second senior year.” he explained. “It was originally me, Ronnie, Jeff, and Dougie.”

Well, you knew at least two of those names. Jeff and Gareth had been there the night that Dustin asked for you to sub in for Grant. You didn’t remember much about them other than how they looked at you like fresh meat thrown to a wolf pack. 

“A middle school talent show, huh?” you asked, finally looking at him for more than just a few seconds at a time. “Were you any good?”

“Oh, not even a little. We got boo’d off the stage and a ton of parents complained about our choice of song.” he smiled brightly, full teeth. “I’m pretty sure they changed the ‘everyone must perform’ rule after that.” 

“Sounds like you failed for the good of all the kids in Hawkins. Bet you’re a hero to some of them.” You bit your tongue wincing at your choice of words. Hero. It was so cheesy and too on the nose. It didn’t mean anything. It meant everything. It meant nothing. Just stop overthinking-

“It’d be the first time someone thought I did any good in school.” Eddie said, pulling into the Happy Hills Trailer Park. He pulled up in front of his trailer and parked, and you hopped out, glad to be on steady ground. 

Your watch said that it was around seven thirty. You’d walked all the way to the high school to be picked up by Eddie after Hellfire, he’d offered to pick you up at your place but... well you didn’t need him knowing where you were staying right now. 

“Eddie.” An older man was sitting on the porch, cigarette in hand, as he nodded at his nephew. 

“Thought you’d be off to work by now, Wayne.” Eddie said, hopping on the steps to the porch. 

“Just about to head out.” Wayne’s eyes drifted over to you, taking in a drag and looking you up and down. Had it been any other old man, you would have felt deeply uncomfortable, yet with Eddie’s uncle you felt like- you couldn’t place it. If you had to take a shot in the dark, you assumed that he was trying to decide if he should judge you. 

Actually, maybe you were a little uncomfortable now. 

Eddie grabbed your shoulder and pushed you up to stand next to him as he introduced you. 

You shot your hand out and gave him the best hand shake you could. “Nice to meet you.” you said. Wayne took your hand with his free one and shook it, giving you a nod. Whatever he had been thinking before disappeared and he stood up and flicked his cigarette off the porch. 

“Don’t stay up too late.” Wayne said, heading towards his truck, parked on the other side of the trailer. “Granny dropped off a casserole in the fridge if you get hungry.” 

The scent of cigarette smoke hung stale in the air of the trailer, and Eddie cracked a window in an attempt to air it out. You looked around, taking in the interesting choice of decore. 

“Do you want a drink?” Eddie asked, looking over at you as you stared at the walls. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” you said, making eye contact with a Garfield mug by the door. 

“Why would that inconvenience me?” 

“Well if you get me a drink what would you drink out of?” you asked, scanning the seemingly endless shelves of mugs and hats on the walls. 

You heard Eddie laugh from the kitchen. “I’ll make due.” When you turned to look at him again he was holding a beer in his hand. No need for a mug then, you guessed. 

“No, really, this is a lot of mugs for two guys.” you said, looking around. The small living room had a couch and an old arm chair, and there were just so many fucking shelves of mugs. “And hats.” 

Eddie walked over to you and handed over a beer, which you took without a word. He’d been enough of a gentleman to even open it for you. You took a sip, trying to remember if you even liked beer. 

“It’s just something Wayne always collected.” Eddie said. “I never really thought too much about it. Actually I don’t think I ever see him wear hats much either, mostly during the summer.” 

“Do you wear hats?” You scanned the line of hats over one of the windows. 

“Not since I was a kid. Those caps just make my hair go everywhere.” 

“I like your hair.” 

Eddie looked at you and you made eye contact with him for the first time since he picked you up, making your stomach twist. He almost looked bashful at the compliment. 

“Thanks.” he looked like he might want to say more, but instead he turned around and started walking towards the opposite end of the trailer and you followed him. 

Eddie’s room was overwhelmingly Eddie. Your eyes scanned the room, picking out pieces of him as you went. There was a small closet that was a little open, showing a guitar body that didn’t have any strings, a homemade Corroded Coffin banner, posters that were plastered on almost every spare inch of wall, a yoyo on his dresser, his electric guitar hanging on his mirror.

You stared at the guitar and tried to calm the pounding of your heart, trying to push down the memories of seeing him play the instrument on the small screen of your computer back at home and what happens after. 

Calm down, calm down, calm down. You chanted in your mind and looked away from the dresser to where Eddie was on the other side of the bedroom. He was looking through a basket on the floor and you could hear the slight clacking sound of cassette tapes knocking together as he looked them over. 

“You might have to rewind these.” he said, tossing them on the bed. “And one of these isn’t done so when you find that one, give it back.”

You picked up one of the tapes, seeing the label with his handwriting. You had told him that you were interested in getting into more metal music and Eddie had been more than happy to offer up some of his mixtapes for you to borrow. 

“So what’s on all of these?” you asked, the labels not giving you any hint of what could be on them. Faerune, Ralishaz the Mad, Stroud’s Castle Caper, Middle Earth. You read each label one by one, realizing that all of these had something to do with D&D or fantasy, the fucking nerd. 

“A bit of everything.” He said, taking a seat on his bed, looking at the tapes. “Just whatever I was into at the time that I didn’t want to miss when it came on the radio.”

“And the labels...?” you asked, looking them over, noticing a smudge on one that faded to a fingerprint. You wished that you could ignore the small details that were making Eddie so real, it only made your head spin. The more of him you saw, the harder it became to say you weren’t going to try and change anything. 

Even if it means risking your own life? 

You missed his explanation of why he named the tapes the way he did and you instead shoved one out at him “Can you put one on?” you asked, sounding a little more frazzled than you had intended. 

Eddie took the tape and put it in the smaller boom box that was plugged in on the floor and hit play. You sat next to him, trying so hard not to think about him, which was a stupid endeavor considering you were in Eddie Munson’s world, in Eddie Munson’s trailer, sitting on Eddie Munson’s bed, with Eddie Munson.

You were sitting on Eddie Munson’s bed. You were sitting on his bed right next to him. You felt yourself get stiff again, and you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths. With any luck he would just think that you’re focusing on the music instead of trying to shove down the sudden wave of dirty thoughts that drowned out your moral dilemma and left you with a completely different problem now. 

This is what you get for reading so much fan fiction. 

Reader ==> Calm the fuck down

You focused on the sound of the music, the last ten seconds of the song were cut off abruptly with a new song. The sound of the radio DJs announcement of the new song adding to the homemade quality of the tape. 

You took another sip of the beer that had been ignored in your hand, letting the burn of the cheap drink distract you and pull you out of your mind for a moment. Eddie had started talking again, telling you about the song and more technical things about the guitar solo. 

He’s info dumping. You realized, and opened your eyes again. You looked at him and he wasn’t looking at you, just going on and on about the song, fiddling with one of his rings. 

He’s nervous. The retaliation hitting you like a brick. You had been so wrapped up in your own nerves of being alone with him that it never once occurred to you that he might be feeling nervous around you. You couldn’t fathom why. You were just some weirdo who crashed his club once and now were trying to be his friend in an attempt to eventually save his life. He only knew about that first part though. 

You were tempted to reach out and rub his back to calm him down, but you didn’t want to be too forward. 

“I like the song.” you said when he stopped to take a breath. “I can see why you do, too.” 

You noticed his shoulders relaxed a little and he smiled at you and you wished he wouldn’t because you didn’t think your heart could take it. 

“I listened to this tape a lot last summer.” he said as another song came on, and the whiplash from metal to what sounded like country. 

“This is different.” you said. “I didn’t take you as a country fan with the... everything about you.”

Eddie stood up and walked over to his dresser, digging around through a drawer and pulling out a small bag of weed. Right, that’s the other reason you used to hang out with him tonight. 

“Yeah, my mom was from Mempis.” he said, measuring out what you’d asked him for and you started scrambling for your wallet and pulled out the time-appropriate cash you had in there. “So I grew up with this kind of music.”

You two exchanged goods and you shoved the baggie in your backpack. From where you were sitting, you noticed another guitar that you’d missed when you first stepped in his room. It was an acoustic guitar sitting in the corner, out of the way but not so much that it looked completely ignored. Eddie had gone in and painted words on the body of the guitar, squished together as if he hadn’t thought out how he should space out his writing. 

This Machine Slays Dragons.

Of all the small bits of Eddie that you had learned in the past few days, this was the thing that punched you in the gut and humanized him completely. The site of this acoustic guitar is what made you feel clammy and the weight of this world suddenly came crashing down on your shoulders. 

“Have you ever been to Tennessee?” you asked, your voice sounding foreign to you as you tried desperately to anchor yourself. 

Five things you can see. Guitar. Another Guitar, Corroded Coffin banner. Empty beer can. Eddie

That wasn’t going to work. 

“No, I’ve never left Hawkins.” Eddie said, putting his stash away, oblivious to the storm that was raging inside your brain. “Mom, uh, used to talk about how her music felt like a plane ticket home even if she was stuck here. I say that my bands music is more like a portal to another dimension-”

“Where’s your bathroom?” you asked, your stomach lurching. 

His head snapped up at you, and you tore your eyes away from the guitar as his words echoed in your mind. 

Portal to another dimension. Portal. Another dimension. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Eddie asked, taking a step close to you, his brows were furrowed under his fringe as he looked you over. When you didn’t immediately answer, he pointed out of his bedroom “Bathroom is right there.”

You gave him a nod and quickly locked yourself in the bathroom and tried not to hurl. He was real, Eddie was real and he was going to die if you didn’t do something. Eddie was real, and he listened to blue grass, and he had an acoustic guitar that he painted himself, and he made mix tapes, and he had a mom, and he owned a yoyo and he just sold you weed and he was going to be killed by monsters trying to save this town and the world. 

It took a moment to calm yourself, taking deep breaths. You had been lying to yourself since the day you arrived. You had been telling yourself that this was alright, that you were totally able to handle being transported to another dimension, knowing what was going to happen.You could be a hero and save everyone. 

That was a fucking lie. You were still trying to tell yourself that this was a dream, that this wasn’t really happening and that these people didn’t really exist because they couldn’t exist. 

But they did. They existed, and you were no hero. Eddie’s voice echoed and layered with yours in your mind and you turned on the sink, splashing water in your face. People were going to die and did you really think you could do this? 

You needed to get out of there. 

You flushed the toilet and stepped out of the bathroom and walked back into Eddie’s room. He was fidgeting with a guitar pick between his fingers and he looked up at you. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, standing up from his bed. “You look kind of...”

You were sure you looked like shit, shaken up and feeling clammy. 

“Y-yeah.” you said, trying not to bolt out of the trailer like a mad person. “Sorry, I’m not feeling great. I think I need to head home.”

“Totally, I get it. I’ll drive you home.” Eddie said, and the genuine worry in his voice made you want to cry. 

“No...!” The word came out more desperate than intended. You could not let him know where you were staying right now. “I- I think I need the fresh air. I don’t live far from here.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” Eddie protested, and your brain scrambled to think of any good excuse for what to do next. “I’m gonna be honest, you look like shit.”

“Can you drop me off at Dustin’s place?” you asked, grabbing onto the first name in your head. 

“Dustin... Henderson?” Eddie asked. “Why?”

Why? Because you couldn’t let Eddie know that you were squatting in Benny’s. Because you couldn’t tell him that on Friday and Saturday the old run down diner you were calling home was crawling with basketball players drinking and hungover. You couldn’t say that on those days you jumped between the Party’s homes to hide out and sleep. 

There was so much you couldn’t say and you hated every second of it. 

“His mom is a friend of my family.” You managed to say, hating the lie on your tongue. “And since my family isn’t around here...”

Eddie’s eyes were staring hard into yours, searching for something. If he found what he was looking for, he didn’t say so and just nodded. “Yeah, I’ll drop you off at Henderson’s.”

You grabbed the cassettes on the bed and shoved them into your backpack, following him to his van. How had you managed to fuck up so bad? You hadn’t been there for a half hour and he was already needing to drop you off somewhere else like a kid getting sick at a sleepover. 

The drive to Dustin’s was awkward, Eddie had the music turned on again but at a much lower volume as the two of you drove in silence. You stared out the window, counting street signs and focused on your breathing. 

What a mess of tonight you’d made. 

Eddie’s driving wasn’t as mad as it had been earlier and when he pulled up to Dustin’s home which you were thankful for. 

“You sure you're gonna be okay?” Eddie asked, looking you over. “Need me to, I don't know, walk you to the door?”

You shook your head, not needing him to do anything more than he already has. Besides, you were planning on walking to the back of the house and sitting in the shed to give yourself some alone time. 

“I'll be okay.” You said, sounding far more confident than you felt. “Thanks for the ride... And the tapes... And the weed.” You gave him an awkward smile which he managed to return. 

“Yeah, any time.” He said and you got out of the car and headed towards the garage to be out of sight, only emerging outside again when you heard the van pull away. 

You made your way to the back yard and changed your mind, moving into the basement instead. 

It was going to be a long night as you processed the reality you were living. 

--

Tumblr User ==> What next?

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader

[wordsinhaled]

every so often i forget crowley IS a canonical hozier enjoyer and then i remember

and i know everyone’s heard “take me to church,” but like, listen. it really is the most crowley song???

the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you

if i'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight. to keep the goddess on my side she demands a sacrifice; drain the whole sea, get something shiny (acts of service crowley acts of service crowley acts of service crowley)

something meaty for the main course; that's a fine-looking high horse. that looks tasty—that looks plenty—this is hungry work (“have an ox-rib…”)

and then i picture crowley after aziraphale leaves - lying on the floor of his new flat, all concrete and sharp edges again. newly moved in, and he’s listening to unreal unearth and staring up at the ceiling

i mean, have you actually imagined crowley hearing “first time” after aziraphale goes back to heaven?

remember once i told you about how before i heard it from your mouth my name would always hit my ears as such an awful sound

this life lived mostly underground, unknowing either sight not sound, ‘til reaching up for sunlight just to be ripped out by the stem; sensing only now it’s dying, drying out then drowning blindly, blooming forth its every color in the moments it has left to share the space with simple living things; infinitely suffering but fighting off, like all creation, the absence of itself

the last time it was heard out loud, the perfect genius of our hands and mouths were shocked to resignation as the arguing declined; when i was young i used to guess, are there limits to any emptiness? when was the last time? c’mere to me, when was the last time?

and “francesca”???

if someone asked me at the end, i’d tell them “put me back in it.” darling, i would do it again. if i could hold you for a minute, darling, i’d go through it again. though i know my heart would break, i’d tell them “put me back in it.” i would not change it each time. heaven is not fit to house a love like you and i

“who we are”???

you and i burned out our steam chasing someone else’s dream; how can somethin’ be so much heavier but so much less than what it seems? darling, we sacrificed, we gave our time to something undefined. this phantom life sharpens like an image, but it sharpens like a knife

i literally think he’d have to turn off “first light” after the first verse

you know he’d track down mister andrew hozier byrne just to ramble at him over a whisky, you just couldn’t leave off at “from eden,” could you, when i said ‘have at it’ i meant, y’know, that thing artists do, what is it? artistic liberties, not a bloody prophecy

poor crowley being subjected to this record. i feel for him, i really do

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #anthony j crowley #hozierposting don’t mind me

[lunartadpole]

1 ¦ 2

inspired by this post :))

(Tell me baby, do you recognize me?)

Eddie graduates by the skin of his teeth - and with the help of some pity points from the higher ups at Hawkins High School, a makeshift apology for the town-wide manhunt for him - and he is left with the age old question that plagues most, if not all, graduates: what now?

He doesn't know what to do with himself, doesn't know what he's good at. Sure, there's music, he can play the guitar decently but he doesn't know where to take that. And that leaves him in a bit of a slump. His whole life Eddie has been tethered to this town, itching for some grand escape or for something to call him, begging him to chase it down. He's wanted to get the hell outta dodge for so long, he never actually thought he'd see the day where he'd just…go.

So he graduates. He hobbles off that stage, still in his crutches as his legs still aren't fully able to support his weight again, and it doesn't feel nearly as good as he dreamed of, though he guesses that once one looks death in the eye, fights off hoards of literal, real life monsters, menial things like finishing school with possibly the lowest grades imaginable matter less than one thought. And he stays, in Hawkins, just for another month or so. Just until inspiration hits.

He gets a job alongside Steve and Robin at Family Video, because if he wants out he's gonna need the money, and becomes a natural third to their duo. They work many shifts together, mostly mucking about to pass the hours; arguing about movies, laughing at annoying customers, gossiping about Steve's failure of a dating life. It's nice. Eddie finds something in that, friendship. Not that he didn't have friends before all this interdimensional mess, but there's a difference here at Family Video. 

There's a difference with Steve.

Eddie never thought he'd see the day where he actually liked Steve Harrington. But he soon discovered that they had a lot more in common than Eddie would have ever thought; and it's not that Steve suddenly likes D&D, or that Eddie gets a newfound appreciation of Basketball, it's that they're both adrift in the ocean of life, aimlessly floating with no direction, no plan on where to go. 

Eddie stays for another month. His friendship with Steve only grows when he invites both Eddie and Wayne to stay at his house. Prior to this they'd been living out of a motel half an hour outside of town, thanks to their humble trailer getting ripped in half when the earth split open. Eddie declines at first, but Steve is insistent. 

"It's not like I don't have the space," Steve shrugs. "Big house, gotta fill it with something. Why not you?" 

The Munsons move into Loch Nora. Wayne is icey at first, unsure about this whole arrangement and untrusting of the Harrington boy despite Eddie's insistence that Steve is not like his parents. But soon enough, Wayne and Steve hit it off and it's like they've been friendly for years. Eddie walks in on them, more often than not, watching football and screaming at Steve's state-of-the-art TV, sharing a beer and a smoke on Steve's porch. Wayne catches Eddie lingering in doorways, just watching, and flashes him a knowing smile. 

"He's one of the good ones, that boy," Wayne comments one night. They're watching Steve in the kitchen from the dining room while he cooks, in his absolute element. There are times where Eddie just, sits and watches Steve when he's preparing dinner; the concentration on the boys face, reading recipes written in feminine handwriting out of a battered notebook, and the utter joy when things go his way, is enough to bring a smile to Eddie's lips and a warm feeling through his body. 

Eddie felt that warmth then, watching Steve hum to a song he's been trying to remember for the past week, and it's been driving Eddie up the walls hearing that same poppy tune over and over - but it hasn't really. "Yeah," Eddie agrees with a nod, "He is." 

The summer breeze rolls in quicker than usual. 

Eddie spends his time in the blistering Hawkins heat in the pool, surrounded by his friends. He doesn't mind that, despite Robin's constant begging and his own teasing to show off Harrington's skill in the water that earned him the title of Captain of the Swim Team, Steve never gets in the water with them; he seems perfectly happy to lounge on the deck chairs with Nancy. Sometimes, when Eddie looks over at them, the two are staring off at the pool with some glazed over expression, the very same he has when he remembers the sound of Chrissy Cunningham's bones snapping. So he doesn't ask, knowing that Steve will tell when he's ready. 

When they're not in the pool, they're inside with the aircon blasted, watching movies, eating ice cream. Sometimes - read: very often - Steve opens his home to the kids, who eagerly accept under the pretense of continuing whatever campaign Eddie's been cooking up. Steve takes the gang on drives to anywhere and everywhere, and sometimes, late a night when everyone's gone off back to their own houses, he and Eddie will go on their own personal trips; down long, straight roads with the music - which they bicker excessively about - blasted up as high as the car will allow and the windows rolled down. Eddie sticks his head out the window like a dog and Steve will tell him just that. The feeling of wind on his face provides him that escape he longed for, reminds him where he wants to be, gone. 

But Hawkins in fall is beautiful, Eddie did always love watching the leaves change colour. The summer breeze disappears and is replaced with that wild, sharp chill that always made his muscles ease up. But something changes in Steve during the autumn. He quietens, and the nail studded bat makes it return beside the front door. Eddie never presses, instead buying candy in bulk and renting scary movie after scary movie for them to watch leading up to Halloween. Steve falls asleep during one of these movie nights, unconsciously tossing and turning until things almost get violent and he wakes in a cold sweat. Eddie is there to hold him, to wipe his tears while he opens up about everything; Barbra Holland, the pool, Nancy Wheeler and the word bullshit, the Russians. And Eddie just holds him while he melts in his arms, the heat of Steve's body only adding to that warm, fuzzy feeling churning in Eddie's stomach. He does something brave that night. 

Steve and Eddie share their first kiss watching Micheal Myers terrorise Jamie Lee Curtis. 

Halloween comes and goes. That chill in the air turns to a bite of frost. Eddie never did like going on long journeys in the cold weather. 

Winter is spent getting drunk and getting high. Because there's not much else to do. The town experienced a bad storm that year, leaving Steve and the Munsons locked in Loch Nora for a week and a bit. They build a snowman in the front yard, have snowball fights with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan. Steve makes a killer hot chocolate. 

He discovers that Christmas at the Harrington house is one of beauty when Steve puts up the decorations. Hundreds of Christmas lights light up the street at night, and don't even get Eddie started on the tree - huge and intricately decorated with at least a hundred ornaments, each with their own desiccated place. Steve hangs them up out of muscle memory, like he's done this a thousand times. It's during this time Wayne starts to get antsy about their living situation, concerned about what happens when Steve's parents come home for the holiday, but again Steve reassures them. 

"They're not coming this year, so don't worry about it." 

They worry about something else, but they never ask. 

When it gets too cold, Eddie steals Steve's sweaters, Steve curls into the warmth of Eddie's body at night and Wayne lights the fire so the boys can huddle around the fireplace. Eddie doesn't think he'll ever forget the sight of Steve's head resting in his lap, face tinted with the soft glow of the flame. Eddie runs a hand through the infamous hair, untangling any knots with his fingers. It's soft. Eddie doesn't think he'll forget that. Steve gets Eddie a new guitar for Christmas, the one he's been talking about all year; that almost makes Eddie ashamed of what he got Steve, a mixtape full of the songs they listened to on their night drives in summer, but that shame disappears when Steve's eyes light up brighter that any of the lights hanging on the tree. They kiss under conveniently placed mistletoe. The snow soon thaws and Eddie weaves crowns out of blooming flowers for his first boyfriend.

Seasons come and go. Days blend into weeks which blend into months. And the more time Eddie and Steve spend together, the less he thinks about leaving. The year ends with a kiss at a small gathering of friends. The spring season is in full bloom before he knows it, then summer, then fall, then winter, and through it all Steve is still at his side. There's an 'I love you' somewhere stowed in Eddie's chest, and he tries to find the bravery to say it to Steve any chance he gets - when he nurses Eddie back to health from a common cold, when he makes Eddie's coffee in the morning, when he holds Eddie close after a nightmare. Steve has told those three little words more times than Eddie can count, but he just…can't get the words out. They're in there though, waiting.

He thinks he's going to say it, the day he drives to the store to pick up some groceries, one December morning in '87. He has it planned, a quiet night in with Steve's favourite meal homemade by Eddie, treating his boy. Then, as he's scanning the aisle for the ingredients, he hears it. That all too familiar sound. Whispers. The hair on the back of his neck stands up, like someone's watching him, and sure enough when he turns there is. A small group of five, look to be around his age, sneering, mumbling amongst themselves. And suddenly it's March, 1986, and people he's never spoken too are demanding his arrest, calling him a murder. Suddenly it's Summer '86, and some punks trashed the front window of Family Video, the words hunt the freak painted over it. 

Suddenly, Eddie realises what fucking time it is and what time he's already lost. His skin begins to itch and a scowl finds its way on his face as he recalls his comfort over the past year, his complacency. He leaves the store without buying anything, racing down the road to Loch Nora desperate to get the fuck out of there as soon as he possible can. He doesn't care that he doesn't have anything to chase, doesn't care that he can't do anything yet, Eddie can't stay in this town anymore; not when the people still torment him, look at him like he's Satan himself and cower in fear. 

He throws his things in a bag, gathers the decent amount of money he's managed to save up, and just as he's about to leave he notices that the Christmas decorations are up again, that perfect fucking tree towering over him a constant reminder of the part of himself he willingly gave away. He thinks of Steve, bitterly, liar, and how they're not the same at all. Because Steve might be content with being lost in the ocean, no way out, no plan, no path. But Eddie will not fucking waste away in a town that hates him. 

He thinks of Steve, lovingly, darling, but it's not enough. It would never be enough. 

Eddie writes a note for Wayne and Wayne only. He's gone before the ice can thaw. 

December, 1891

Eddie Munson is walking home to his apartment when he sees Nancy Wheeler. 

He's got a good thing going on here in New York. Though it was rough at the start. He drove aimlessly for weeks, sleeping in any dingy motel he could afford, but after he found a severed finger underneath his pillow he decided that sleeping in his van was the safer, and cheaper, option. 

He camped out in Ohio for a month or three, working at a roadside dinner washing dishes. Then it was on to Kentucky, which lasted an extremely short while, before North Carolina for the summer. New York was never in the plan, not that he had one, but something so far away from small town Indianna sang his name and there he went. 

It was…different to say the least. Eddie had never seen so many people in his entire life, it was easy to get lost in the crowd. For the first four months, he was entirely alone, working three jobs of stocking shelves, wiping down tables and bartending at clubs just to get by. But that didn't bother him, not in the slightest. Because he may have been living out of his van, but at least here people didn't cower away from him. At least here there were others like him. Other 'freaks'.

It's not like Eddie didn't know there where other gay people in the world, but christ sometimes it hard to remember your not the only one when middle aged women are shielding their children from you, and dickheads in school carve those ugly words into your locker every morning. 

It was these others who let him crash on their couches when winter rolled around and the van became uninhabitable. Then eventually, it was these others who let him move in permanently. They were like him, in more ways than just the obvious. They too had nowhere else to go, no plan, no path, but desperate to find one. Lost in the ocean and trying to swim. 

Things started looking up at the beginning of 1989. All that time, alone in the back of a van, gave Eddie lots of time to thing; about what he was good at, what he wanted to do with himself. And, as it turned out, years of scrawling down D&D campaign ideas had paid off, because Eddie was quite the story teller. And after months of rejection letters and disappointments, one literary journal gave him a publishing deal.

He wrote short stories, mainly, fantasy ones of course. He wrote of dragons and monsters, of evil wizards and an unlikely band of heroes. He wrote of a prince, who was brave as he was kind; who loved his kids despite his insistence that they were nothing more than a nuisance in his life; who was handsome to boot and had hair like silk.

Who loved the local bard when the town roared he was a witch. 

…that story might be just for him. 

And sure, of course there were times he felt a tad homesick. He writes letters to Wayne from time to time, just so his Uncle knows he's okay, but he never gives his address for him to write back, he doesn't know why. Maybe he's scared that Wayne will come find him, drag him back to that shithole town, or maybe it's because he doesn't want a reminder of the town that hated him.

(Or maybe, Eddie doesn't want to know what's changed in his absence. Doesn't want to know how everyone is, how well they're doing without him. How a certain someone is doing without him.)

Which is why, when he sees Nancy Wheeler walking towards him, he freezes. 

Nancy hasn't changed since the day Eddie saw her last. Her hair may be a bit longer, a bit more unruly, but her eyes still have that curious glint to them, and her smile just shows her cunning intelligence. And she's still beautiful. 

"Eddie?" She says, disbelief flooding her tone. "Oh my god, is that you?" 

Dumbly, Eddie stands there, frozen among the crowd of people bustling to get to wherever it is they're going. Nancy fixes him with a look, taking the sight of it in and her the smile on her face grows. She runs forward and wraps him up in a hug, letting Eddie get a smell of her lavender perfume that also hasn't changed since '86. And just like that, all other concerns he had fade away. 

He hugs her back, burying his face in her curls. "Nance? Oh Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?!" 

When she pulls away her eyes are fiery. "I could ask you the same thing." She jabs his chest with a pointed finger. But her gaze momentarily softens. "It's so good to see you. Are you busy right now? I just got off work, I was gonna go for some coffee?" 

Eddie smiles, knowing damn well he's about to get the interrogation of his life. "I'd love that."

The coffee shop, at least, provides some much needed warmth from the winter weather. New York somehow gets far colder than Indianna during Christmas, and Eddie never did well in the cold. 

Nancy buys him a coffee. He can tell by the way she holds herself that she wants to demand where he's been and why he left, but she won't ask. Not yet. Eddie's grateful for that. 

"I live here now," she says instead, "Well, temporarily, so far. I got a paid internship at The Times as an investigative journalist. Hoping they give me the job soon." 

"That's incredible!" Eddie exclaims. "God, I wish I knew you were here. I would've let you buy me a coffee sooner." 

She stirs her tea with a spoon stiffly. "Yeah maybe you should've left a number before you took off. Or, well, anything."

And yeah. Okay. He deserves that. But ouch Wheeler.

He clears his throat. "So, uhm, is Jonathan here with you?"

"Uh, no." Nancy's eyes crinkle in a way where Eddie feels like he's missed out on something. "We broke up." 

"Shit, I'm so sorry I shouldn't have-" 

She silences him with a wave of her hand. "No, don't. It's fine. It happened a while ago, just after you left actually." She coughs. "I'm seeing someone else now. But hey, what about you? How have you been?" 

Eddie tells her about everything. About the severed finger in the motel, about sleeping in his van, about working three jobs, about his writing. He tells her more than he means too, things he hadn't even admitted to himself yet, but Nancy always brought that out in people. 

"I won't even lie, Nancy, I've been missing home so much." At this stage, they've been talking for two hours, the cafe is slowly emptying and the sun is slowly setting. "Like, the city is great, I fucking love it here, but I just…" he trails off, not knowing how to describe the gaping void in his chest when he thinks about Hawkins. 

They sit in silence for a bit. Then, Nancy says, "Yeah, we all miss you too. Especially the kids- sorry, not allowed to say kids anymore. Mike keeps busting my ass every time I call him that."

"Shit, yeah. What age are they now? Eighteen?" 

Nancy nods. Eddie leans back in his chair, feeling incredibly old. 

"It's true, you know. They miss you. A lot. Dustin tried to get Hopper to file a missing persons report. They thought you'd been kidnapped or something." 

Shame paints Eddie's cheeks pale. He never did think about the kids' reactions to him leaving without so much as a goodbye. 

Nancy huffs a laugh, "Mike took over your little club too. Though I think Erica does the whole game master thing."

Erica Sinclair, god he misses that little spitfire. 

"Lucas is captain for the Tigers as well. Oh and Joyce and Hopper? Yeah, they're married now." 

"No way!" 

"Uh-huh," Nancy's curls bounce as she nods. "Had their wedding in July last year. And Steve is-" 

Nancy Wheeler does something then that Eddie has never seen her do. She falters. She doesn't even try to hide the obvious hurt and hate she has for Eddie in that moment, her eyes glare daggers at him. He thinks she's about to rip him a new one, list off all the reasons he's a shitty person in alphabetical order, and leave him, alone forever. 

Instead,

"You should come back. For Christmas I mean" she says. "We've all been doing this thing now for the last couple years where we all get together, it's great really. I think everyone would love to see you." 

"Everyone?" he asks, hesitantly. A picture flashes in his mind: a boy's head in his lap, face illuminated by a flickering fire.

"Everyone." 

Later, when Eddie's packing his suitcase, he'll blame his decision on peer pressure and how he knew if he said no, Nancy would just continue to wear him down until he agreed. But deep down, he knows that it was because the thought of going back to Hawkins- no, back to his family , filled him with that familiar warmth he hadn't felt in years. 

"Yeah." he deflates into the chair. "OK, sure. It'll be fun." 

Nancy smirks. Never a good sign. 

#might do a p2 to this but idk yet??? #last christmas by wham! got me feeling shit #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things ficlet #Nancy Wheeler #Robin Buckley

[godfistgonnalive]

please ramble as hard as you can about pruita I need to hear what you have to say about them

grabs you by the shoulders very roughly.

ok. my favorite flavor of pruita is utterly unrequited. cuz its very funny to me. my fav thing to do is listen to music and think about unrequited pruita like L imagine 😹😹but also its kind of sad and i like how its sad but also funny

like think about the prussia cleaning game like omg.... he loves him.... its so silly.......

PRUSSIA STROKED IN HAPPINESS! WHAT THE FUCK! GAY!

and he literally was imaginging them like together on some sort of boat idk what its called like ugh

and the fucking BLOG. ive already posted these before but. my god.

he likes him so much....... its unbelievable........

like are you serious. he so very obviously has a crush on him THERES SO MUCH PROOF OF IT AND [im trying to restrain myself here from being salty about prucan shippers so i will stop myself here.]

ok im racking my brain to try and think of what to say rn cuz as much as i say i wanna talk about my ships i know deep down in my heart i dont have much to say that i can turn into coherent thoughts.

back to my thoughts and not canon content. unrequited pruita. like ok you know that hetalia itself is just gerita fanfiction. like i love gerita. who doesnt. and thats where it comes in in my version of pruita. like prussia is so in love with italy and italys like omggg germanyyyy :3 like. oh my gfod can i talk about the songs i associate with them. the answer is yes i cant be stopped.

ok puppy princess by hot freaks. fucking UGH. unrequited big fat crush ANTHEM right here.

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS. prussia is the goofy friend... prussia loves italy...... and italy loves germany........ my goodness.........

NO OTHER HEART BY MAC DEMARCO. THIS IS LITERALLY PRUITA.

i love gerita truth pruita so much but not in the love triangle way like i mean thats what it sounds like but its more like a fucked up triangle like

it doesnt connect all the way... cuz in love triangles dont they usually like compete!>>! like prussia loves italy but in my pruita brain he wouldnt like.. actually really try to get with italy while he knew that germany was trying to get with him.... you know.... he wouldnt do that to his brother..... so he just keeps his crush to himself.... rip.... and thats the fun of it ! ! ! he yearns but he'll never have him... love that

LOVERS ROCK. BY TV GIRL. THIS ONE LYRIC. JESUS CHRIST.

TRYING TO SELL YOU SOMETHING THAT YOU ALREADY HAVE. UGH.

AND LOOKING OUT FOR YOU BY JOY AGAIN. ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS.

IM GONNA GO CRAZY!

and peach scone. by hobo johnson.

ltierally every time... prussia calls italy cute.... god......

now. onto requited pruita.

i think theyre silly cute so much so much :3 :3 :3 hold on gotta check pixiv so i can formulate thoughts. ok like i mostly think about prussia's side of things when it comes to required pruita but in my opinion prussia is CRAZY about that man. jesus christ. and italy thinks hes super silly and loves him 🫶🫶🫶 HOLD ON I SHOULD FILL OUT ONE OF THOSE UNDERSTAND NMY SHIP THINGS HOLD ONNNNNN

got a little lazy but you understand.

i think thats all i have to say . i feel like i didnt really say much just put images and then said something along the lines of "jesus christ" or "what the fuck" but i think you undestand. thank you for asking. PEACE AND LOVE!

ALSO WAIT I HAVE MORE. i LOVE gerita marriage. they are so married. and i love thinking about prussia watching the boy hes had a big fat crush on for god knows how long get married to his brother. LMAO! and hes like crying like hes happy for his brother,... but oh man........ LMAOOOOO

i love prussia so much. make him suffer now

ok thanks for reading :heart:

edit:i just realized onm the height thing onm the ship chart i forgot to put 6 CM and instead put 6 M. oops

#pruita #hetalia #owls nonsense #IM INSANEEE IM INSANEEEEEE

[miasmaghoul]

I was thinking about the ghouls and their music taste

Hear me out: emo enjoyer rain. But also emo enjoyer mountain

They’re an emo couple. Unstoppable force.

A sibling introduced rain to my chemical romance when he was first summoned and taken over by the vibes of the music (alongside the violent attraction to the whole band) and then passed this onto mountain, to which it had the same effect

So now imagine rain and mountain dressed in the black ripped jeans that look painted on, belts that have no purpose other than look good and mech tops with band shirts over them

Have a good day!

I have always ascribed to goth gf Rain. Similar idea, just a slightly different vibe. Still in skin-tight black clothing, but more dramatic. Lots of flowy sleeves and lace detailing on his tops. Like dressing himself up all fancy because he knows he'll be the center of attention.

Mountain I see dressing exclusively in comfy, outdoorsy clothes (cargo shorts and tshirts, maybe an open button down overtop) or his uniform, and almost never wearing shoes. He keeps his single pair of lime green crocs in the greenhouse, Swiss kept stealing them from his closet.

But emo couple Rain and Mountain...hear me out:

Mountain finds Rain in his room one day in a ratty old MCR shirt, plucking at his bass. Mountain recognizes the song but cant place it. Rain starts singing...I dunno, Helena is the first thing that comes to mind, and Mountain is immediately enamored because Rain's voice has that effect on, well, everyone.

Rain plays him their entire discography in one afternoon, they share a joint or two, and he's vibing with it. Rain spends the whole time talking about the band, its members, goes on a whole tangent about the Umbrella Acadeny comics. Mountain grinning and tugging at the hem of his shirt, telling Rain he loves seeing him like this. He means seeing Rain enthusiastic, open and eager to share, but Rain takes the words literally.

Rain scrounges through his closet and comes back with a pile of all sorts of things. Mountain is bigger than him, sure, but the tighter the better, right? Mountain goes with it, stoned and smitten as he is, and lets Rain dress him. The jeans won't button, but that's easily hidden by the belts. The long sleeved mesh top makes him itch, but at least it fits. The tshirt, however, does not.

It's in better condition than the one Rain's wearing, but it's tiny. Looks like it would probably just fit Dew, never mind Mountain. Still, Rain wrestles him into it. Tugs it over his head, fights to get his long arms through the short sleeves, huffing and grumbling in Mountain's lap the whole time. He finally sighs, satisfied, and plays with Mountain's hair for a minute. Brushes a swath of it over his left eye. Mountain tries to blow it out of the way, but Rain gives him a look and he stops.

Rain stands and pulls him over to the mirror and - he looks ridiculous. The jeans are so tight he can literally see all of his own junk, and the legs stop a solid six inches above his ankles. The belts hang useless around his waist, one bright red canvas and the other black with studs. The tshirt is easily the worst part, essentially a crop top. His stomach is entirely exposed, aside from the mesh undershirt. His happy trail pokes through the material. The print on the shirt is stretched nearly beyond recognition, pulled tight over his broad chest. He feels more than a little silly, if he's being honest, but something about it feels...good.

Or maybe that's just the way Rain purrs when he presses himself to Mountain's back, arms wrapping around that stretch of mesh-covered skin. He pokes his head out around Mountain's arm and gives him the goofiest grin, all fangs and crinkled eyes, and Mountain thinks he would do anything in the world if it meant getting to see that smile.

#miasma says #ugh this is MUSHY #ridiculous #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #also HI FRANKIE

[marciabrady]

How would you rank ‘One Song’, ‘Once Upon a Dream’, and ‘So This Is Love’ aka the most top tier romantic duets Disney had ever produced?

This is such a great question and I really don't want to cop out but I'll never be able to choose between the original four princesses ever so it really just depends on my mood/what I need to listen to! All three are some of my favorite songs ever, so I'll just list what I get from them/why I listen to them at different times and for what reason:

I'm Wishing/One Song: I'm Wishing is the first song I ever remember hearing. I was obsessed with the echoes and it's the only song in English my grandparents know- it was Adriana's favorite, too! There's such a magical quality to it and I love, for as mythical a Princess as Snow White is, her very human lyric of "I'm dreaming of the nice things he'll say." It really does remind you that, at the heart of it all, Snow White is someone who's been abused and neglected but still has a tender heart, in spite of her circumstances, just wants someone who will treat her with affection for a change. Her wish is very human and, beyond imagining what he should look like or about the riches he possesses, she just wants to be loved and feel safe around someone. It's such a vulnerable, soft moment, and to be countered with One Song! One Song is so steadfast in its dedication and what everyone wishing for love could ever hope for- someone you're in love with, being respectful but still consistent and unwavering in declaring their love for you. The lyrics have such a hold on me- "one song, my heart keeps singing, of one love, only for you." It isn't beauty or innocence that draws the Prince to the Princess- but, in this fairytale universe, they truly are meant and made for each other. She isn't just going to be tossed aside for another pretty face or Princess, this is truly the only love of the Prince's life, which is why he continues to venture through all the seasons while riding in the forest, searching for his lost love when Snow White is thought to be dead. I listen to this when I need to feel more solid in the belief that my soulmate is out there and that I'll know it when I see them, but also that it'll be easy- I won't be riddled with thinking of how to maintain their interest or reach out to them or how to overcome my anxiety. If they're as interested as I am, things will naturally progress and the strength of that unity and bond will overcome any other temporary hardship that might fall in our path during the courting period that would dissuade any other lesser relationship. True love isn't fragile- it isn't something that'll go away if you say the wrong thing, or don't happen to be somewhere one day. True love is strong and withstanding and everlasting.

So This is Love: THIS SONG. Not to sound like a 2010 gif but all the feels. Cinderella just got to the dance by the skin of her teeth after having to fight for her right to go all day and after being assaulted and ripped to literal shreds by her abusers. She's a spirited and lively girl, but the harsh encounters she's made contact with that day are understandably giving her slight social anxiety. She's the only young maiden to go to the ball without a chaperon, as we see, and she's late to the proceedings. She doesn't stand in line, but plans on spending the night by herself, surrounded in the marvels of the building- when he approaches her. To this point, every physical encounter we've seen with Cinderella is other blatantly violent or borders on being violent. The stepsisters pushing their fingers in her face, her dress being ripped off her body, being on the receiving end of sneers and mockery and insults. When the Prince first reaches for her hand, she's startled and it's almost as if she thinks she's going to be hit...because that's what all of her interactions have played out as, thus far. She's never been on the receiving end of a warm touch or a loving motion or an act of tenderness. She's been ridiculed and humiliated and demeaned...she probably never thought she'd ever experience love and, when she does- the floating notes of Ilene's voice rising higher and higher and higher are ethereal and so elating and gratifying. For the first time in her life, she's made the discovery of what love truly could be, and the Prince, too, is transformed by it- this rich boy who was bored by all the luxuries surrounding him realizes that it's love that's more important than all the treasure in the world and the only thing that can make him feel alive. The spurts of energy and silent affection they carry for one another is so beautifully compelling and to think Cinderella got to experience this after so many years of pain is so emotional for me. I listen to this when I'm at my lowest and am convinced I'll never again feel those butterflies in my stomach that bring you to the sky when you're in love, or that happiness that makes your smile spread so wide on your face before you even show any teeth- the type that makes your cheeks warm and pink and tuck your chin into your chest- and it works, like a charm, every time in showing me what could be just around the corner and how much that would change my entire life, even if nothing else in my life actually changes.

Once Upon a Dream: Where to even begin lol you all know that Aurora is the Princess I identify with the most and this song is the prime example of why. She's an innately romantic princess and is filled with so much love for her elders and the animals and the world around her, but she still wants to experience romantic love. Forced into total social isolation, she's devoid of any human contact and has to resort to her very vivid imagination to generate any stimulus or feelings of sensation...and I think all of us online folk know that outlet a little too well, whether it's fanfic we're indulging in or reader insert writing or roleplay or fan videos or anything. She sings by herself, with a mockup dream Prince, and connects her desires with those of her subconscious- which elevates it all to me. She sings of her dreams and what happens at night and how there's a nagging knowledge that all of her illusions will disappear once she awakens, but the emotional perplexity and depth to her dreams and the desires of her heart tell her that it can't just be an illusion though she logically knows it is. It's really fascinating in a way where most people you meet will never be able to even understand this depth to Aurora, but then again they probably wouldn't have spent enough time with her to deconstruct it to this extent...but I digress. So, for her song- which is so unreal and otherworldly but also anchored by the support of the world in the knowledge of the distinction between the dream world and the waking one- to actually be interjected by that very figment of her imagination coming to life and sprouting her own words back to her is soooo unimaginable and entrancing and exciting, especially considering Phillip doesn't just sing her own words back to her- it really does feel as though she, too, is the person he sees in his dreams every night and it fills you with all these new colors and images and feelings that Aurora's verse does, despite the fact that they're identical lyrics. I listen to this one so often, because it represents so much of the intimacy and sensuality and how realistic us dreamers are forced to be while still maintaining our soaring spirits and so many other qualities that would take me forever to list out. But I mainly listen to this one when I feel like I need the wants and cries of my heart to feel heard and to embrace that intimacy I mentioned earlier

#ask #anonymous

[lmk-aus-galore]

Cinema Sins/Wins Rip off of Lego Monkie Kid

Bad Weather, Season 1 Episode 1

Finally doing this again bois!

Inspired by @satansaidmyturnintheh3llscape

Rules:

-I won’t be counting Animation Mistakes, because Idk how to do that, and I myself am a beginner animator (more like incredibly amateur, to the point I’m asking my sister for help) Unless of course the Animation is obviously and clearly having a mistake for me to watch. (Or it is said in the wiki) The other reason is because I don’t want to keep repeating a scene just to check for an animation mistake.

-I also won’t be counting flashbacks as ‘mistakes’ because most of them are based on bias.

-I’ll be formatting it like this

-Neutral

-Sin

-Win

-Most of this is Commentary, so there won’t be a last sentence nor win or sin counter.

-This is mostly for fun, no need to get offended.

Alright I’ll be placing the rules every single time, without further ado, let’s get into the episode

———————————————————————————

-Intro

-._.

-And we already start off with a summary of the pilot, kudos!

-Season 1 already establishes the feeling of bias, like look at MK, and that’s how the people see him, no wonder SWK’s flashbacks don’t treat him like the goofy ass jester he seems to be.

-MK reiterating this reminds us why they are called as kids when they are literally grown adults…

-Is Pigsy seriously understaffed? Like he says he pulls a ‘quadruple shift’ and refers to everyone slacking off, not just MK who we know, ACTUALLY works there, not only that but Mei helps him in the Season 2 special and he’s shown to have no other staff…no wonder he’s a little anxious of the shop going out of business, he literally only has one person working for him and it’s MK!

-Tang also calls Pigsy ‘Piggy’ actually Sandy does too- the only one who doesn’t is MK who calls him ‘Dadsy’

-This is why you don’t play around when someone is working with a giant crane.

-Main character death number 2

-Pigsy is either still traumatized of MK nearly dying in the pilots or this is the writer’s already establishing that MK was adopted by Pigsy.

-Also as much as I love Dad Wukong, Dadsy best dad for the win.

-Also Pigsy for the win for teaching him responsibility with using powers.

-Mei got too much free time in her hands…

-Looking at the team base, it looks like it’s either underwater or part of the ship.

-Pigsy and MK asking the real questions fr

-Sandy building a secret base is a win in my book. Appreciate Sandy and Mei more fandom! APPRECIATE.

-‘An Eon trapped under a mountain’ I hate to be too literal but an eon is 0.5 billion years

-On the other hand this is sad because he thought he was trapped for a billion years…imagine that, in total darkness without having to see your wife and son.

-Again what era is this in? Because that’s some high-tech shit to control the damn weather. And we know that China at least ATTEMPTED it…I think?

-I like that when the characters show you can hear their theme songs in the background.

-Red Son seems to be broadcasting this as he is video recording, but he also seems to be broadcasting this as if it’s a voice recording.

-Just How strong is that rain?!

-‘When I’m finished my father will once more DOMINATE the world’ ok, so what I’m getting at is that he’ll flood the whole country so that MK can’t do shit. Which is fair since the rain seems THAT strong…

-Sandy scurrying away at the background lol XD

-‘Don’t just dive headfirst into danger!’ 3 seasons later and they all do it anyway…

-Also you all did that when MK freaking dies in the pilots and Tang was willing to even if he seems to have no battle experience…

-Man having MK as a son must be so stressful for Pigsy XD.

-Soo how did the others get here?

-‘I thought I smelled garbage, turns out I was right!’ Red Son, bud, you can do better.

-Lol, Mei and Sandy in the background, ngl Sandy, Mei and MK’s trio is WIDELY underrated, like seriously, these three have been paired up FOUR TIMES, and are shown to hang out a lot, like, GIVE THIS TRIO SOME ATTENTION, they’re the ones with the most episodes than Traffic Light Trio. And TLT was only a trio for like, 2 Specials at LEAST, these guys had like FOUR EPISODES with just them together.

-Red Son sitting there unphased just shows that he knows for a fact MK was winning by pure luck alone.

-‘You dorks done beating each other up yet?’ Again he’s unphased, just showing how he KNOWS that MK is soo inexperienced.

-This Episode has the least sins in here, I’m finding it difficult to find a sin-

-OOOOOHHH THAT GOTTA HURT-!

-‘I guess the GARBAGE takes itself out now!’ That’s better.

-Also, as much as I can understand that the animators were still working on the style for the show, I…still don’t like how it looks in Season 1 tbh-

-How strong is MK for him to create a giant crater when he falls?! Even if he isn’t invincible anymore, he still made a crater.

-Early showcase of MK being a people pleaser for his own good.

-You know with the context of Season 4 I’m wondering if MK allowed Wukong to search his hair but didn’t want to because Wukong is still a stranger to him or…it’s him generally being confused.

-*Aggressively smacks Wukong around as he worries what’s wrong with him.*

-‘In order to have full control of your powers you need self-confidence’ ‘I got self-confidence!’ ‘Nope, you’re just loud’ Way to call him out Wukong.

-But yeah, judging by how Wukong just keeps GETTING NEW ABILITIES with his powers being connected to Self-Confidence, it’s probably a source.

-Notice how Wukong never says that MK’s powers were his, he never says ‘In order to have full control of MY powers.’ He says ‘In order to have full control of YOUR powers’

-Tbh, Wukong being a vague and horrible mentor might come from his time with Subodhi, he’s probably learning how to be a good mentor as he goes, but he probably only has experience from Subodhi and Tripitaka as well- like, Trip might have taught him many things, but it didn’t help that he was captured 24/7.

-And you know how to limit his power, how? For all I know, MK and you are the only ones with your powers.

-I do wonder if the whole ‘invincibility’ thing was probably the reason why Wukong has an everlasting scar on his eyes.

-Ok hold on, why is MK invincible? Why now at least? Like, if he had those powers at birth, why is he invincible? Wukong wasn’t invincible at all, he had to get that invincibility, heck, it was probably from Subodhi’s illegal immortality that Wukong gained…why was HE invincible?

-And they never touch up on this again.

-Man Pigsy cannot catch a BREAK with MK.

-They also never do this again.

-Damn Red Son can punch!

-Nvm, he does sometimes use that Gold Vision like Marinette.

-Wait why is Tang the only one gagged?!

-I love how childish MK is…

-Now Tang is no longer gagged.

-that gotta hurt…

-AGAIN HOW STRONG IS THAT WEATHER?!

-How does MK not have memory loss yet?

-BY THE GODS OF PLOT CONVENIENCE

-No but seriously, I’m glad they switched it up a bit in Season 4 because Seasons 1-3 all the villains seem like they ALL were living in Megapolis, like how, why, is it because Wukong lives nearby?

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk sun wukong #lmk monkey king #monkie kid #mk lmk #lmk mk #lmk qi xiaotian #lmk dbk #lmk pigsy #lmk tang sanzang #lmk swk #lmk princess iron fan #lmk tang #lmk mei #lmk red son #lmk sandy #cinema sins

[animelover20]

A small doffy fucker idea + the fucker himself cause I'm bored and want to share.

Small warnings: spoilers for dressrosa(bit of the fuckers past is mentioned but not a lot) either than that it's just some random ideas about some songs and my thoughts.

You guys know what I really want to do.

Get good at animation so I can show you guys all the crazy shit that goes through my head when I listen to my doffy playlist or sleep token/bad omens in general.

That shit is amazing and I wish I could just rip the images out of my head and slap them into an animation.

Take me back to eden is so good to imagine too especially for doffy because mother fucker was literally taken out of the one piece equivalent to Eden. And I immediately thought of doffy when hearing the song for the first time because holy shit it fits well.

You know while we're on the topic of that I might as well mention the playlist I have of him. Cause part of me wants someone to ask why I have certain songs in my doffy playlist ESPECIALLY any sleep token just so I can ramble about my thoughts. And I want to ramble about something like that because it just seems fun to share my ideas and why that song and it's entirety relates to him.

I should really make a post about that but oh well I'll just wait till someone asks. On that note if you ever want to send me an ask regarding my playlist please feel free,as long as your respectful I don't mind and I really like talking about it but never find an opportunity too.

#the fucker rambles #i love him so much #and his playlist is perfect #i wish people asked about it more #i like sharing my thoughts about him #so if you want to please feel free #may take me awhile but god will i enjoy it #the fuckers doffy playlist

[a-moment-captured]

so let’s be whores for urb. i’ve written this 3 times cause tumblr keeps crashing so gonna try and remember.

i’d suck the soul out of that man. blow him and make him cum, keep going till he’s hard again and repeat.

so the mv and the recent photos got me so fucking 😮‍💨 for this man. that shot on bedroomfits rlly got me prepared to do anything and everything for that man. good god. his shirt is so fucking tight, seeing his chest and his arms, whew.

so like first that shot of his hand got me. whew. imagining his fingers in u and they stretch u out so good.

cause also bro is so cocky and i’m confident he’s also hung as fuck. has to stretch you out on his fingers every time cause he’s so thick and long. also leaks precum all the time cause he’s just so turned on by u constantly.

have a feeling that when ur fucking when u pull his hair for the first time it would totally catch him so off guard, he’d cum for sure, cause, pain kink 😌

also think consensually he would be a sadist (like when playing. dom/sub or bdsm type)

bro is def into spanking, would spank you so hard all the time. (he loves it, and so do u) constantly has his handprints on ur asscheeks cause it turns him on so bad hearing you moan in pain and having his marks on u. his hands are so big when he does spank u it covers ur entire asscheek.

on the same note i think he would love tying you up for the power trip (always consensually!) cause he has a size kink (along with u) and loves overpowering you and holding you down since he’s so much bigger then u. you love that he can hold you completely down with just one arm. and just. whew. think he’d probably edge you too cause you can’t touch.

think he has a breeding kink just like jack, (also believe they’ve talked about it together lmao) he’d wear a condom after u first get together but after a bit he just said he couldn’t fucking stand it, it ok to go without, and you wanted to feel him so bad (every vein and ridge, and also the warmth when he cums in u) so you said yes ofc. he’d just be in complete bliss from how good it feels. can hardly take it. probably would cum twice cause he just feels so good with ur pussy gripping, squeezing and throbbing around him so fucking tight. and now he loves hearing u beg for his cum, one of his fav things to hear. (also u love feelin him throb when he’s about to cum.)

he’s possessive when playing, wants to claim u as his, wants u to tell him again and again that ur his, he’s repeating “you’re mine, all fucking mine, no one else can have you. mine.” (this also goes along with the breeding kink cause filling u up is just another way he claims u as his.)

also think he’s rlly vocal, never is trying to be but you just feel so fucking good around him he can’t fucking help it.

yet another thought is that he loves getting lapdances, feeling u grinding and dancing on him while wearing the tightest, smallest, sexiest lingerie. having to restrain himself until at least the song is over if he can’t wait until ur done (but usually can’t do it, can’t handle it, and ends up ripping ur set off)

anyway i read somewhere yesterday how jack would be the type to continue to fuck u while someone popped their head in to have a convo and how he just wouldn’t care if his friends came in he’d just keep going (@19crimes maybe???) and i do fully with my entire being believe that urb is the same way. strikes me as a horny ass motherfucker.

finally thinking about shotgunning with him makes me drip. like so bad. it’s so fucking intimate and so hot and after you blow the smoke out even if the blunt isn’t done he just has to give u the nastiest sloppiest kiss because he just can’t take it. it makes him so fucking hard.

anyway i’m rlly rlly rlly horny and a complete and total whore for that man, he’s so fucking sexy, i strongly believe he’s a kinky ass motherfucker, and i’d literally do anything for him, and i have lots and lots and lots of thoughts.

thank u for accepting my essay i hope you enjoy. — 💋

(i’ve also tried to submit this like 4 times and it keeps crashing so fingers crossed!)

🚨Ladies and gentlemen🚨

Can we please give anon a round of applause for reminding us why we are all horny sluts for Urban?!

Babe, I tried to prepare myself but nothing prepared for that! Now I’m gonna be thinking about Urban and his fingers all damn day.

And the bedroom fit?! Speechless…

I thought I was ready but I wasn’t! Anon, anytime you want to send in something about Urban, I’ll be your biggest cheerleader!

#urban Wyatt #jack harlow

[kate-cosette-vocals]

How to Breathe from Your Diaphragm (Foolproof Trick!) | Singing Tip

One of the first things you’ll hear when you start researching how to sing is going to be breathing from your diaphragm. But what does that mean? And why do you have to breathe this way to sing well? Don’t worry; by the time you’re finished reading this page, you’ll know exactly what all these singing gurus are talking about and why they care so much about breathing this way.

I made a video about this exact trick, but for those of you who like to read rather than watch, this blog is on the exact same things I talk about in the video.

So let’s get started!

Why breathe from your diaphragm?

Why do we need to change the way we breathe?

Well, in all essence, your breath is the #1 most important factor in singing. Why? Because breathing out air is literally singing. You cannot sing without breathing out, and your exhale, shaped in special ways (singing vowels), is what allows people to sing in a way that’s very pleasing to the ear.

So, your breath is mightily important.

When we breathe in and out like normal, for simply breathing to survive or speaking, we aren’t taking in enough air to sing. We take in enough to survive, and to speak, but not enough to sing. When we speak, our words aren’t held like a belted note in a song or elongated, for example, like in the first few words in the Star Spangled Banner. It would take you about two seconds to speak “Oh, say can you see,” but it takes between five and ten seconds to sing it. We hold the words longer when we sing. That’s one reason why we need more air than we normally take in.

The other reason is so that you have support. When singers or singing teachers talk about a “supported” voice, they’re talking about the breath. They’re referring to having enough air to, well, literally support the notes you sing. Think of it like dragging a bunch of items along the ground. If you put a tissue beneath them, it’ll rip and the items will go everywhere and scatter. But if you put a nice thick blanket beneath them, it’s strong enough to keep them where they’re supposed to be for a long time. Think of normal breathing from your lungs as support like the tissue, and breathing from your diaphragm as support like the thick blanket. If you don’t have enough air when you sing, your exhale doesn’t have a lot to work with, and when you try to sing, there’s not enough air to both sustain the notes you sing, or allow them to come out clearly. When there’s not enough air, it doesn’t pass through your vocal cords in the right way to form the sounds you want. That can make you go off pitch or throw off the tone of your voice, and tone is the really crystal clear sound you want to make.

Bottom line is, if you want to learn to sing well, breathing from your diaphragm is the way to start. The best part is that it isn’t hard and doesn’t take too much practice to become second nature. But no singer gets by without learning to breathe from their diaphragm, and when you learn to do it too, you’ll see why.

How do you breathe from your diaphragm?

You already know how!

You just don't know you know.

First, I’ll quickly explain what the heck the diaphragm is.

Your diaphragm is a muscle in your torso, beneath your ribs. Imagine it as being horizontal. You can feel it right now. When you inhale, notice that something below your ribs moves down. That’s your diaphragm. It moves down to give you room for your lungs to expand with air. As you breathe out, your diaphragm moves back up, helping push the air back out of your body. And this repeats, your whole life.

When people say to “breathe from your diaphragm,” that makes it sound like you’re breathing from a completely different place. The term “breathing from your diaphragm” is huge and a very common thing to hear in singing, but I find it very misleading. What we’re doing is really just breathing lower than normal. So, continue breathing from your diaphragm. Just, well, do it more.

When you breathe normally, your diaphragm only moves down a few inches—just a couple. It’s a very small movement. But that’s okay; we don’t need a ton of air to simply breathe or to speak. But when we sing, we need a lot more air to work with. What we’re going to do is allow the diaphragm to move further down than it usually does, so that we can allow our lungs to fill with a lot more air. You’ll quickly notice just how much air fits into your lungs and how little of that space you utilize in daily life.

Remember when I said you already know how to breathe lower than normal?

You do!

Everyone naturally breathes from their diaphragm (deeper and lower) while laying down on their backs.

Try it! Lay down on a couch, bed or even your floor. The number one way to tell if you’re breathing from your diaphragm instead of your lungs is to notice that your stomach moves out when you breathe, your chest doesn’t, and your shoulders stay put. When you breathe from your lungs (like normal) your chest and shoulders rise. When you sing, your chest and shoulders should not rise (though everything is connected; you will see them move, but a tiny fraction of the amount they used to). When you sing, the movement you should make when you breathe is for your stomach to expand forward with your air. This is showing you that your diaphragm has moved far down enough to get a nice, low breath.

Put your hands on your stomach, and notice that, while laying down, your stomach moves outward. Your chest and shoulders do not. And this happens naturally.

But notice when you sit or stand back up, you’re back to breathing from your lungs and your chest and shoulders rise again.

Why?

Gravity! For whatever reason (I’m no scientist here) you always breathe up and down, so, toward the sky and back toward the ground. So when you sit or stand up, you breathe with your chest and shoulders rising to the sky. When you lay down, your stomach raises to the sky. I’ve no idea why, but if you were wondering, there’s the general answer. (If you're a scientist and you know why, please leave a comment letting me know why!)

But now, the big question: how do you train yourself to breathe from your diaphragm while sitting up or standing up?

There are a million tricks people have invented to teach you to do this, but nothing I ever saw helped me. I tried everything on the internet, but still, I really struggled with being able to breathe this way sitting or standing up.

So, one night, I invented my own trick, and I can 100% guarantee to you that it’s a foolproof method to teach you how to do this yourself.

My Foolproof Method

Step 1 - Lie on your back, preferably on the floor.

Step 2 - Notice that you’re breathing from your stomach, not your chest.

Step 3 - Lift your chest and torso up about an inch off the ground, propping yourself up on your elbows to stay there. Notice that you’re still breathing from your stomach.

Step 4 - Lift yourself up another inch. Notice that you’re still breathing from your stomach.

Step 5 - Lift yourself up until you hit the point where you switch to breathing from your lungs. Notice this.

Step 6 - Try to force yourself to breathe from your stomach instead. If this is hard, go back down an inch, see how it feels again to breathe from your stomach. Then raise yourself up and make yourself breathe into your stomach instead. Do not leave this step until you can do this.

Step 7 - Keep lifting yourself up inch by inch, repeating step 6 at each new level until you reach an upright sitting position.

This was a trick I made up one night after getting frustrated with the though, “I can do this laying down, why can’t I do it sitting up?” I wondered when the switch happened, from diaphragm to lungs, and I found it about halfway up. I made myself breathe from my stomach instead, and then made it to standing and breathing from my diaphragm.

Note: this took me several weeks to be able to do this upright. It took even longer for it to become second nature, where I could do it without thinking about it. Don’t get discouraged if this takes a while; this is something very new to you! Give your muscles a chance to learn a new habit. Habits naturally take 2-3 months to become new habits, so it’s only natural this will take a while. Don’t give up!

This is the first step in getting the singing voice you want, and are capable of. Give yourself time to learn this—it’s a brand new habit that you’ve never done before. You’ll get it! Trust the process and yourself, and as always, happy singing!

#Singing #singing tips #singing teacher #How to breathe for singing #Diaphragm breathing #Breathe from your diaphragm #Singing tip #Singing lesson #voice tips #voice lesson #voice teacher #voice tip #Breathing #how to breathe #how to sing #how to sing better #Improve singing #Music

[rawstfish]

Okay so

The emos are: Gaz, König, Talon, and Mara.

The scenes are: Syd, Velikan, Gus, and Valeria

Down below and just me rambling about them being emo/scene.

EMOS

Gaz: I just know he went through an emo phase. Look at that man and tell me he didn't listen to fucking Linkin Park religiously. They were like his first introduction to metal, and he just fell in love. don't think he liked (and still doesn't like) My Chemical Romance, but he pretended he did because they were the number 1 emo band. Also, I headcanon that his parents divorced, and then his mom remarried. He fucking hates his step-dad. I like to imagine him in band-tees and skinny jeans, too.

König: She's literally number 1 emo girl to me. She weird and only says shit that a person who had an emo phase (but is still low-key in it) would say. Like she was saying, "Rawr XD" constantly still. Probably loved domo and invader Zim. Also, an emo furry who would drew those classic emo wolves

Talon: I just think it's funny to think about. I can imagine him having the emo bangs and face covered in piercings. His hair used to be long, too. He would straighten it every day. Would only wear black skinny jeans with rips in them. Favorite band used to be Pierce the Veil, but he's cringes now if he hears them. Somehow, Wyatt found out that he used to be emo and teases him about it.

Mara: I can see her doing the iconic poses and saying, "Rawr means I love u in dinosaur" and using emoticons in every text message she sent. Another band-tee lover, that's the only kind of shirt she used to wear. Also, probably watched a few animes like Black Bulter. Don't bring her emo phase up to her. She is so embarrassed by it and will shoot will if you remind her.

SCENES

Syd: She used to be the number 1 scene girl at her school. Her hair would constantly be changing. She would dye it different colors monthly. She was obsessed with the raccoon tail hair. She would also relax and straighten hair hair way too much to the point it was so damaged. Was on MySpace and would watch all of Jeffery Stars shit. Also obsessed with Blood On The Dance Floor and MSI. Would always have 10+ accessories.

Velikan: I like to think of this huge dude being a scene kid. It's just funny to me. He didn't do any scene haircuts, but would he have 10+ accessories on his hair and outfits. He had a checkered pattern bookbag that was filled with holes and pins. He wore this bookbag EVERYWAY. He was obsessed with it. Would wear baggy clothes that also had holes in them. He thought the holes were cool. Obsessed with Metalocalypse then and now. Loved MSI and still listens to a few of their songs. Would not text with words, just emoticons. He does this with emojis now.

Gus: This is purely because his mustache is telling me he had a scene phase. He had the straightened and teased hair and would have one stripe of color that he changed weekly. I think he's always been able to grow his facial hair out and would also dye it. Wore bright colors all the time. You couldn't make him wear anything else. Had a MySpace and was very popular on there. He made a lot of friends, but most of them were toxic as fuck. Loved arm warmers, he used to make them. A glitter scene, too, again, he was obsessed with bright colors and glitter, just gave them that extra pop.

Valeria: She was the most not scene girl. Like she was scene, but you couldn't tell. She had the hair and clothes but would rarely actually dress up. Most of the time, her hair was her natural black, and she was wearing a graphic-tee with some sweatpants. She was a tom-girl at heart and had tom-girl shit to so with her father and brothers. But when she would dress up, then you could tell she was scene. She was wearing the bright against black clothes and arms, AND left warmers, beat up shoes, clips in her hair, and at least one pin somewhere on her or her bookbag. She didn't really listen to scene music all that much. She honestly didn't really care for it. She did have a MySpace but rarely used it.

#This what I am thinking... #mmm #let me know what u think too :) #bc I want to talk about this #this is very important to me #I was an emo kid so I know more about that #then I do scenes #let me know if the scenes make sense #I kinda feel like it doesnt #my post #call of duty #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare

[faithinlouisfuture]

hiiii! it’s me - the new louie who first discovered louis when he was being all sexy from the austin show. hahaha, i really should make up a name or at least find a way to shorten that intro. so anyways, i’m a little bummed. i watched the afhf london and got a few more youtube recommendation of louis videos. i saw one about two of us. i already felt teary after first hearing it in the afhf london, but then finding out the backstory of his mom then his sister... i ugly cried so hard. (that line about tattooed on my heart are the the words of your favorite song). it made me think of my dad who passed a few years ago and my mom who was hospitalized all last year. that song has too many feelings. it’s not a bad thing but i feel ripped inside.

i did find a little cheer. i watched another rec - mr. bright side. like wow… so fun and a panty dropper. sorry not sorry, lol. as long as you don’t get tired hearing from me, i’ll come back when i’ve recovered. thank you for listening 🙏 💝

hiiiiii I hereby christen you baptized by Austin Louis louie (on account of that being your first Louis watching experience and also on account of all the sweat 🥵) at least that’s how I’m gonna tag your asks from now onwards hehe :p

i know I always have long ass rambles to your asks and today is no different, okay so before Louis’ first world tour (ltwt) when I used to listen to Walls (the album) more often than not I would skip two of us because I just had to be in the right head space to listen to it, couldn’t just up and randomly hit play and be normal about it… but then he started singing it at every single ltwt show and I feel like the reason he did it also was that it could help (both him and the fans) lessen the intensity of the extreme heaviness that was attached to the track and I have to say it worked to an extent… the same way I feel like he’s letting go of some of the very heavy emotion attached to saved by a stranger, by singing it over and over again during this tour

I want to share something with you related to two of us that will maybe make you cry (cuz I just did watching it again) but also give you joy and help you associate positive and happy feeling with the song (specifically as it relates to Louis)

so very sorry to hear about your dad, I can’t even imagine how close to home the song must hit for you <3 hoping your mom is well and fully recovered now! sending so many positive thoughts your way

ahhhhh not the mr. brightside cover!!! the way that louies have been literally begging for him to do that again, but it was just a one time thing! the killers fans online were so horrid about him and that cover at the time… but that kind of sound is what he was made for, it suits him so well and like you said; instant panty dropper fr - very valid emotions, never any need to apologize! unpopular opinion but I think he would do it so much more justice if he sang it now, because his vocal ability and confidence in himself and his live vocal performance has improved SO much since 2019

#anon #baptized by Austin Louis louie #omg yes I will never tire of your louie journey! #so always keep coming back please #can’t wait to hear what you discover next :)

[painfullyaverageravenclaw]

My Favorite Vtuber Songs

This list is literally only because I want a chance to infodump about covers and original songs that make me really happy.

King cover by Kuzuha

I mean,,,how could I not have King on this list. This was the first song that I heard Kuzuha sing and fell in love with his voice. To me, Kuzuha sounds the same when he sings and talks. I think that's really interesting lol

2. Excuse my rudeness but could you please RIP by Mori Calliope

Literally my favorite song by Cali. The video hurts my eyes but besides that, I like that they used her model for it! I think that was really creative.

3. Dreamin Night cover by Suntempo (Roberu Yukoku, Temma Kishido, and Astel Leda)

Holy shit this!!! Roberu rapping is everything I needed and more. Temma being all shy n shit is so cute! Not to mention Astel's deeper rapping was super cool. I need more suntempo rapping.

4. King cover by Belmond Banderas

This song was my first time hearing Bel sing and holy fucking shit I was blown away. I already like his speaking voice, finding it calming. Hearing him sing is like being blessed by the gods, sounding literally otherworldly.

5. King cover by Pavolia Reine

Holy fuck. This is the perfect remix king needed. I feel like it adds a certain edge that other covers can't achieve with just voice. Not to mention the video has a fun playfulness that adds to the edge.

6. Hope in the dark by Luxiem (Ike Eveland, Vox Akuma, Mysta Rias, Luca Kashiro, and Shu Yamino)

This right here is my favorite NijiEN group song. It's the perfect mix of something that's more on the jazzy side but has hints of pop. It scratches a certain part of my brain just right. Not to mention it spawned funny memes. I was pleasantly surprised by everyone's voices.

7. Graveyard shift by Mori Calliope ft BOOGE VOXX

Complete serotonin. This song right here makes me wish I knew japanese so I could sing along. This song packs a punch and pleases my brain so much.

8. Daddy daddy do cover by Rikka and Natsuiro Matsuri

Oh my god. Their voices blend with each other so well. Not to mention the absolutely stunning work for the art and the cute outfits Matsuri and Rikka are wearing. I hope they perform this one live.

9. Daddy daddy do cover by Oga Aaragami and Ayuna Risu

They performed this song twice with each version having one of them lead. The one I linked was Oga's but Risu's is just as beautiful. I actually forgot that the song wasn't originally jazzy because I was so used to their covers lol

10. Memeshikute cover by Kenmoshi Touya, Shellin Burgundy, and Uzuki Kou

If you want to laugh so hard you cry looking at a music video, this is it. I've laughed so hard at a music video. Especially at the end with Kanae, Kuzuha, Kagami, Yashiro, Belmold, Chaika, and Maimoto with the pom poms. You can really tell who was happy to be there and who wasn't.

11. Mitsu no Aji by Rain Drops (aka Elu, Akina Saegusa, Rushen, Suzuki Masaru, Joe Rikiichi, and Warabeda Meji)

This was my first Rain Drops experience and god do I not regret it. I wish I found them sooner so I could fully appreciate their music. I don't know if Rain Drops is retired because Meji graduated but I hope they continue to make music, even if they are missing a member.

12. Identity cover by Astel Leda and Seto Kazuya

There are no words I can use to describe how much I love this cover. I already really liked Seto's singing voice (which was one of the main reasons why I subbed to him) so hearing him with Astel was a blessing.

13. Tsunami by Finana Ryugu

When I saw that Kira helped with this song, I knew this one would be good. I love the lyrics so much. Funny enough, I don't really imagine Finana's character singing this song. I imagine a lesbian siren who seduces men for the fun of it lol

14. Doggy God's Street by Korone Inugami

I always thought Korone could sing beautifully but her rapping is another level. I love the music video too. It's so stylized and so cute! Literally my favorite art style. Plus all the little references are a nice touch too.

15. Otome Kaibou cover by Taka Radjiman

This song had made me cry more times than I'd like to admit. It's such a beautiful piece and Taka's voice really sells it. I wanna get this song tattooed in my brain I love it so much. Taka's voice to me is like a warm cup of tea while sitting in the car with the heater on waiting for someone to finish whatever they're doing so you can go home if that makes any sense.

16. Mitsu no Adji cover by Akina Saegusa

I know I put the original song on this list (and Akina is literally in the original song) but listen. Hearing Akina sing by himself makes the song much more depressing than it already is. Hearing Akina sing by himself made me want a solo cover of the song by other Rain Drops members.

17. Chronos cover by Ike Eveland

Holy fucking shit this cover right here. Ike already has a really pretty voice that feels like an angel is singing to me but hearing him go from singing to death screaming is such a switch that I didn't know I needed to hear till now.

18. Envy Baby cover by Kanae

I will never be able to fully explain how much I love Kanae's voice (and Kanae in general) and this song is what I show people when they wanna hear a vtuber cover a song. Hell, I show this cover to people who just wanna know what music I like.

19. Hail Holy Queen cover by Levi Elipha, Nagao Kei, DebiDebi Debiru, Melissa Kinreka, Genzuki Tojiro, Todoroki Kyoko, Sister Claire, Sukoya Kana, and Hayase Sou

First of, yes, this song is from Sister Act. Yes, the movie is random. Yes, there is quite a list of livers in this song. It doesn't stop it from being fucking hilarious and amazing. At first, I was so fucking confused I'm not gonna lie but it quickly grew on me.

20. Cendrillon cover by Levi Elipha and Genzuki Tojiro

Holy fucking shit this. This song makes me weep /pos. I have never been so emotionally moved randomly when listening to a song before. I had just randomly found this song one day via one of those youtube playlists and I have fallen in love with this song. I want this song played at my wedding.

21. Identity unofficial cover by Shu Yamino

Shu didn't cover this song officially but I still really think it's nice. I'm in love with Shu's voice. I hope he does an official cover of this song some time. Preferably a solo cover because I think this song is so perfect for his voice. Also support the artist because this was their fanmade MV.

22. Dizzy Dizzy cover by Kanae and Akina Saegusa

These two need to sing with each other more often I swear. Their voices compliment each other so well. Two of my favorite Nijisanji singers singing together is like a dream to me. I know Kanae and Kuzuha are like the main duo but Akina and Kanae should do more stuff together.

23. Matoryoshka cover by Akina Saegusa and Fuwa Minato

I recently found this cover and I prefer this version to the original. I also really like the artstyle that the music video is in. I like seeing this side of Akina, even if it's just in art. I would love to see more art of Akina and Fuwa based off of this cover.

24. W.I.M by Arurandeisu

Arupapa out here rapping his heart out. I was super surprised to have stumbled upon this song and fell in love with it. Holostars does not get enough recognition and I feel like Aruran's song fit's the loose casual vibes Holostars gives me.

25. Pentas by Holostars (Roberu Yukoku, Arurandeisu, Kageyama Shien, Temma Kishido, and Oga Aragami)

I love Holostars. I love them so much man.

Anyways, I'm done ranting for now. I love vtubers a lot and they have helped me through a lot. I really like ranting about livers and enjoying their dumb content.

#holostars #vtubers #hololive #nijisanji #nijisanji en #nijisanji jp #nijisanji id #michael is losing their mind to the hyperfixaction