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astrologylunadream · 6 months

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Who is in love with you +why?🧸🍑🌸♡ (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hellooo it's Lunadream💌 I will show you right now who is currently in love with you and what made them so! hope you find your message🌸💫

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🍂💗

Pile 1🌸

Pile 2🍮

Pile 3🤍

Pile 4🎃

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 💕

Pile 1🌸

Sign energy: School, Heir, Sloth, Sleep, Care-taker, Sun, Venus, 12th house, 6th house, Taurus, 🛩🌹🖤🐭

🧸Your energy: Hellooo my pile 1's are very cute >w< The dreamy type, loves to take cat naps. May have venus in 12th house or taurus in 6th. I'm seeing a youthful appearance for this pile, you take good care of yourself and often engage in skin-care routines, healthy diet, ect. Make yourself very beautiful naturally💗 You have a feminine aura about you, very soft and angelic. You are very quiet at times and may seem half-asleep due to your peaceful nature. You have such calming vibes, very pleasant and beautiful. I feel like this pile have many suitors or perhaps secret admirers you aren't aware of!! I'm getting royalty from another country/land vibes~ may be a descendant of royalty or simply lots of money, the kind rich girl/boy in your social setting.🛍 Some of you are/were very popular in school. Genuine sunshine vibes <3 You just have such a sweet shining appearance, and your personality is like a little flower so graceful and delicate.🌻 Taurus, Libra, Leo, Pisces, Virgo are signs for my pile 1. You could have venus in Pisces or Taurus/Libra. You may be into the color black or feel drawn to people who wear black, like the dark to your light aesthetic kind of thing~☯💗 You love romance and dream of it often, love daydreaming and drifting off to sleep as you imagine the perfect love story. Cinderella vibes♡ Some could be year of the rat or have a pet mouse/rat.

🍑Who is in love with you: Scratch, Accident, Privacy, Rose colored lenses, 8th house, Cancer, Saturn, Taurus, Capricorn, 5th house, 🤗📌🏖⁉️ Alright my pile 1's this is someone you may know already!! Such secret admirer/hidden crush vibes rn💞 This person has a lot of scorpio/plutonian energy, very intense. Cancer, Capricorn, Taurus and Leo placements, they definitely have Scorpio somewhere in their inner planets. Their aura is magnetic and mysterious and almost dangerous in a sense. They are very private and keep to themselves, they avoid huge crowds and parties, they prefer to be alone.👤 They like being in the comfort of their own home, doing their hobbies and things they enjoy all by themselves. This person likes feeling safe, in a quiet environment, and doing whatever they want. I'm getting that they like going to the beach at night lol. They may have injuries or scars, might have glasses due to eye sight issues and this could be contact lenses aswell. They have restricted themselves from romance for a long time, they just spend time alone because they don't trust or believe in having a relationship with someone, they are hesitant to give it a try. So they just stick to themselves and do most activities alone.☹💔 They tell themselves that they don't need anyone, loner mentality. They may have had past experiences believing in love and seeing everything through rose-colored lenses and it ended terribly for them and it stabbed them in the back, leaving them with trust issues and resentment for having any sort of bond with another person. :( I'm seeing a slow warming up to my pile 1 as they finally start to fall into love again when they look at you, it's like their world is being shown in color, reminds me of the wizard of oz...😩😫💌💞 and they're like "tf is this?!?! What am I feeling rn?? Is this love?!!!"⁉️💗

🧁Why they love you: Trust, My love, Mouth, Drama, Name, Water, Capricorn, Cancer, Eros, Earth, 🆕️🟪👎📸 Okaaay I'm sensing a situation right now, you guys definitely stepped into this person's life and they were like 😳🤯🎆 It just hit them, and like this person has a lot of drama around them. So much crap they deal with and you just came in and I feel like you stuck up for this person lmao I feel like pile 1 just finally stood up for this person and just 🤚 to all those who were stirring up drama for this person💀 I feel like you were there for them when they needed it, and when everyone didn't even care about this person and you stepped in and said the truth, you said what needed to he said and your person LOVES you for that just know my pile 1 like omg they find it so attractive and just so empowering.😍😫✊ They felt like they finally found someone genuine, someone they could trust. And it made them so emotional too they felt like they could open up finally, like a new beginning for them.♡ They feel so safe with you by their side, and omg your name is a huge turn on for them btw they love your name and love saying it (and other ways too...😳) They love how compassionate you are to them and everyone who needs it💗 You ground them, and they feel so secure with you. The biggest reason they love you is because of how safe you make them feel and how much they trust you because they trust you a lot my pile 1's and this person does NOT trust easily I'll tell you that.😩 They love how you care so much for others, they know you have a big heart and this attracts them to you even more!!

💌Messages from your person: Tell me your secrets, You don't owe me anything, I wanna marry you, You keep doing this, I know your secret (What is the secret pile 1??? They're so serious about you!!🥺💍💖) Extra cards: Unheard, Mystery, Attraction, Pain, Hobby, North node, Leo, Venus, Gemini, 7th house (Literally they see a future in love/partnership with you the cards speak for themselves you guys!!)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💫🌸

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the blossom emoji~🌸 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗🌸💗🌸🎀

Pile 2🍮

Sign energy: Chest, Purple, Emotions, Passion, Stage, 3rd house, Eros, Mars, Virgo, Moon, 🔮📵🎤🛸

🧸Your energy: Heyyy we have a pretty person in this pile!! Your energy is radiating I'm getting lots of Virgo, possibly Gemini, also Aries/Scorpio and Cancer for you guys. Okay so let's see I'm getting really spiritual and uplifting vibes from my pile 2's, you are so emotional and that's what makes you so beautiful🥺💖 Singing/performing may be your passion, or you may really have a thing for music. I'm seeing lots of devotion to music like I'm hearing it's your life omg, You have a lot on your mind, and you think and feel a LOT too. You are at a point in your life where you are very self critical and strive for the best, you are willing to do anything for what you love, including love itself. My pile 2 is very protective over their heart and you guys are not letting it get broken, you have an amazing talent for speaking for your feelings. Your playlists say more about you than you ever could😂😭 You love comforting voices/asmr. I feel like you have really soothing voice aswell <3 You have a lot you stress about when it comes to relationships, my pile 2 should just have more trust in themselves, trust the process take it slow and be open to recieving love because you guys deserve it and it anyone can be loved it's pile 2.🥰⭐ You have a passionate mind and spirit and you put a lot of energy into everything you do, if I could give your brain a hug I would lol it sounds so funny🤣🤣 but seriously, take care of yourself and your mind because you tend to overthink and over feel a lot🥺👌💓

🍑Who is in love with you: Yandere, Winter, Chase, Love letter, Height, Capricorn, Vertex, 6th house, Mars, Uranus,🤙😒🐈🍓 Wow... just wow this is quite the person in love with my pile 2's... where do I even start-😫🤯 Okay you guys this person is really into you I mean REALLY into you... the vibe is just almost suffocating with this person's feelings towards you. Yandere is coming through so yeah they've got extreme ride or die feelings for you guys. Virgo, Capricorn, Aries/Scorpio and Aquarius could be in this person's chart. They could be above average height or have a strange height. They are most likely taller than you, they often tower over you or stand next to you in a way that asserts dominance so to speak. This person is someone you see often, they could be a co-worker/classmate or such. They could be born in winter so Capricorn and Aquarius are likely signs for them, also you may have met this person during winter. They are head over heels for my pile 2's and definitely very into them romantically, they are very masculine by nature and act that way toward you. They express their love in a more assertive/forward manner to you. I'm getting kabedons, grabbing your wrists and chasing you down lmao this person is so into you for real. They may send you love letters often or even daily. They are super committed to you and a little clingy too, huge simp vibes🤭💌

🧁Why they love you: Intuition, Toy, Careless, Flirt, Honest, Taurus, Fire, Air, Venus, Pluto, 🐚🤲🏖🌪 They love you because of how genuine, honest and true you are to yourself and others. They are actually obsessed with this aspect of you and the way you are truly yourself. They really went with their gut and just fell into loving you my pile 2's lol this person can actually be pretty quick to fall in love I'm getting. They don't think things through and just let their feelings take over🤭 They love your feminine energy and passionate nature. Honestly this person can't get enough of you😍😭 They are in love with how you show your emotions and how strong and sensible you are with them (even if you don't think so <3). This person may have started to fall for you after being flirted with/flirting with you. For some of you there may have been a very subtle flirting but they took it so so so serious and now they're like, obsessed with you🙃 Lol they love how you speak and your voice made them fall in their seat lmaooo they love how comforting and sweet you are. And that little spark within you that always keeps you going, they really love that about you.❤ They might have realized how cool you are and just brush things off not letting it effect you all that deeply. I'm getting for the most part this person just really enjoys the chase with you and is in love with obsessing over you guys🤣 Watch out cuz just because someone loves you doesn't mean they're "the one" (be careful pile 2 I'm getting some really unhealthy obsession vibes from this person with you and this could even be someone who finds you easy to manipulate/control so always trust your own judgement!!) They got really into your giving energy/soft aura and now they're hooked.

💌Messages from your person: Stop thinking about me, Stop ignoring me, I can't hide it from you, Am I perfect for you? You can't hide your feelings for me (They are definitely thinking about you rn) Extra cards: Society, Amusement park, Luck, Words, Favor, 6th house, Pisces, Chiron, Gemini, Sun

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💫🌸

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the flan emoji~🍮 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗🌸💗🌸🎀

Pile 3🤍

Sign energy: December, Feelings, Seduction, Feet, Caution, Taurus, Neptune, Water, Venus, Moon, 🌇🔚📿🧍‍♀��

🧸Your energy: Feminine aura is prominent in this pile, I'm getting alluring siren beauty vibes🔱🖤 Such powerful seductive qualities and you guys are so attractive😫💋 May have Taurus in 12th house so Aries rising is likely. May have venus in water sign (Cancer/Scorpio/Pisces) or Venus conjunct moon placement. Some of you could love winter or winter clothing, could be born in winter specifically december. You are very charming and beautiful, ahh I am loving the vibe of this pile🥰 You are very cautious of love, it both intrigues you and scares you at the same time. You may worry about sharing your emotions so closely with another person, or wearing your heart on your sleeve. You have a heavy heart and a very fragile one, you know this so you keep it safe and guarded at all times. You don't open up from fear of being vulnerable which has led to you seeming cold or apathetic, but you do feel emotions quite strongly actually. You have a soft imagination and you wish to be beautiful (spoiler: you already are😇). You feel as if love purposely trips you making you fall harder than you would have liked. You may live in the city or love watching sunsets, you love when the sun sets and the moon rises. Jewelry looks great on you, pearls and onyx probably looks godly on you🥺🖤 Some of you are a bit of a loner type, waiting for someone to step in and say "hey why are you alone? You look too gorgeous to be all by yourself"😫😩😭💞 Omg I hope that's the person who loves my pile 3 lmaoooo

🍑Who is in love with you: Affection, High standards, Blame, Hug, Socialization, 3rd house, Lilith, 12th house, Sagittarius, Fire, ☀️🤐🤵☄ OMG I'm sensing a hot couple with you two JUST SAYING😭🥵 Omg we haven't even started yet I need to calm down!!! They got that look about them omg... they're really popular and liked by so many people it's like, who doesn't like them?! Wide smile, messy hair, dangerous eyes...💀 Omg pile 3 why am I freaking out so much this is great- Their voice makes you high that's what I'm hearing LMAO you wanna hate them but then you can't omg I'm hearing this persons a catch like others would KILL to date this person...🤯 This person lights up the room I mean set it on fire🔥 They have a way with words, and omg they have a knack for telling dirty jokes at parties and like they're so smooth about it-😳 I'm just gonna say it this person is probably really hot my pile 3 the person in love with you is HOT. But you wanna know what?? The worst part of all is they just wanna give you a hug!! They don't want a wild night or some naughty crap they just want to make you smile😭😭😭 They seem like a bad boy/girl but for you they're so sweet I can't...💓 They just wanna make you laugh and talk about your interests. They find you so amusing and exciting to be around, some of you may have a bad impression of this person. So you could be really on the fence about them, or shutting them out completely because you think they're bad news. I'm hearing "don't blame me" you may blame them for some reason!! They could be someone you like and blame them for your feelings😝💕

🧁Why they love you: Past, Magnetic, Acceptance, Passion, Dare, Chiron, Scorpio, North node, Pisces, 2nd house, 😭⁉️😟🦥 Awww I feel like they saw you and was like 🥺!! Like when you see a little cat on the street and you just melt😫💓 I'm getting fast attraction vibes with this one, this person probably fell quick for my pile 3's. I feel like they were like "wow who's this hottie?" Or something like that omg just like such raw passion🥴🔥🧲 Mars in 1st house overlay vibes~ It could have been a dare from their friends to try and win you over, but they just fell deeper in love with you😍 I feel like it was first physical attraction that led them to seeking more about you, then once they saw the deeper shades of your heart they felt even more inclined to love you!! They love your magnetic aura and how you're healing yourself from damaged emotions. They think you're so strong and your endurance is very attractive to them, they have much passion and respect for my pile 3 and just overall so much love!❤ They want to he that shoulder to cry on when you finally open up to them, and they love the true you, the emotional and vulnerable you. They love your chaotic little mind, they also really fall in love with you when you cry. It makes them feel drawn to protect and be there for you, to experience everything you are feeling. They're the type to put themselves in your shoes, just so they know exactly how you feel. They love watching you grow and heal, and transform into the the strongest most powerful person you can be.🤧🖤

💌Messages from your person: Sing to me, I thought it was all in my head, Focus on me, I wanna kiss your neck, You make me so happy (Ahhh so cute😍❤) Extra cards: Angel, Out, Cafe, Girlfriend, Innocence, South node, 11th house, Scorpio, Leo, Fire (My pile 3 they wanna ask you out on a date <3)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💫🌸

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the white heart emoji~🤍 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗🌸💗🌸🎀

Pile 4🎃

Sign energy: Accusation, Admiration, Fear, Company, Fit, Gemini, Lilith, 9th house, 5th house, Saturn,🧚‍♀️🌇✌🦋

🧸Your energy: You give ethereal fairy/pixie vibes, you probably dreamed of becoming an air pilot as a kid😆 You enjoy having people over in your home. You felt restricted in your early years by others, so you admire those who can live freely and live in chaos and fun. You desire change in your life and all you want to to have a good time, others have tried to dampen your fun and good vibes. For some you may have had an older sibling that got on to you a lot, or told you to be more responsible😞 Could have been told you don't fit in with your family, because you are different. But my pile 4 you are so special, you are like a fairy!!😉 So magical and joyful~ you are a child at heart no matter the age, and you probably believe in fairytales at least a little🤏😇💫 You have changed a lot over the years and learned so much, you have many role models. Your child-like nature is both a blessing and a curse, many people hated you for being so light and joyful. But so many people love this about you, those who gave you a hard time felt bad that they couldn't face life as bright and care-free as you do. You truly are a gift to this world⭐

🍑Who is in love with you: Ability, Inactivity, Change, Soft spot, Friends, 2nd house, 8th house, Moon, Uranus, Chiron, 💄🤹‍♂️🌻😚 Omggg this is someone you know pile 4, this could be your best friend or a friend of yours. Could be friends of friends also, lgbtq+ vibes with this person, they could totally be a friend that has a secret crush on you!!🙊 This could be a childhood friend, perhaps someone who always cared for you all along. They are deeply in love with you pile 4 and they are so delicate with you, the way they speak is like a flower so calming and still. Could be Cancer, Taurus, Scorpio or Aquarius placements. I just realized the juggling emoji with the rainbow so that's another confirmation for any lgbtq+ in this pile :D This person loves you in such a pure adorable way, they light up when you smile. And they have the means to truly heal you my lovely pile 4, I mean they could really treat you well. They want to take care of you and probably always did/do.💝 I'm getting that if this is a childhood friend situation that they always cared for you like tend to your injuries, gave you bandaids, shared their lunch, honestly so sweet😭🥺💗🩹 You guys may not have a label for your relationship or it could be very confusing for you both, "are we friends? Do they like me? What are we??" What I'm hearing. This is a very emotional and empathetic native, they are so involved in your comfort and care. They want to check up on you a lot and ask if you're okay <3 This person is genuinely out for your best interest.

🧁Why they love you: Think outside the box, Devotion, Practical, Capricorn, Happiness, Earth, Scorpio, 5th house, 9th house, Saturn, 🌅🧤🎓🗻 I think they realized how smart and capable you are and just how you showed everyone that you aren't childish in a bad way and can actually achieve whatever you put your mind to.🤗 This person is in love with your perseverance and dedication for the things you care about, they love your care-free and fun yet able mentality. They especially love how dedicated you are to being happy and creating your own happiness, that really makes them fall in love💘 They find your mind so interesting and unlike any other, your ideas and beliefs are so unique and innovative to them. You are their little box of happiness awww and they wanna take you with them everywhere they go🥺 They think you're really smart and you never stop amazing them. Every little thing you do inspires this person, and makes them fall deeper in love with you. I feel like they try to think rationally about their feelings for you, because they wanna be thoughtful and rational just like you can be. But of course you make them so emotional and just so many feelings are ignited within this person for you. They love your success and all that you have achieved with your will. They are in awe with the things you do and say, your happiness makes them feel safe. They fell in love with your bright eyes and strong personality.🌈

💌Messages from your person: Cheer for me, No one makes me feel this way, It's karma, I have no boundaries with you, I've changed (I feel like you've inspired this person to keep going and stay strong!! You have shown this person how to be strong and believe in themselves and they honestly adore you for that🥺💓) Extra cards: Show, Interpretation, Sight, Conflict, Softie, Pluto, Jupiter, Neptune, Vertex, Sun

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💫🌸

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the pumpkin emoji~🎃 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗🌸💗🌸🎀

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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blindmagdalena · 8 months

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The Athenaeum Portrait

18+ 4.7k homelander x f!reader. established relationship, first time having sex, reader has a complicated relationship with sex, abuse of superpowers for cunnilingus, overstimulation, penetrative sex, lite sublander, praise kink, slight coercion, unhealthy dynamics, implied codependency, implied verbal abuse. just covering my bases here.

For every moment of love that is warm bliss on a summer afternoon, it is also an exercise in stumbling wildly in the dark. Never has this been more true in the case of Homelander, a man whose broken edges and unfinished seams have hardened into hazards that threaten to ensnare and maim anyone who steps too close.

You wouldn't have him any other way.

AO3 link. inspired by this anonymous prompt. thank you! 🖤

Homelander did not enter your life so much as he bull-rushed into it, a living whirlwind that uprooted you and hurled you into a familiar yet strange new world as unceremoniously as the tornado that took Dorothy to Oz.

Vought Tower sparkles just as vibrant as the Emerald City, and provides no less surreal of a backdrop to your new life. Homelander's penthouse is a bizarre caricature of personhood, loaded with hundreds of years of American history. It would ring false, just another aspect of his brand, if not for the fact he can—and often does—regale you with a laundry list of historical facts on any piece in the collection.

This is how you find out that Gilbert Stuart is one of his favorite painters. When you ask Homelander why that is, he shrugs. "He painted over a thousand portraits, and he's most famous for the one he didn't finish. Ironic, huh?"

The Athenaeum Portrait, it's called. An unfinished portrait of George Washington that was replicated and sold by Stuart over a hundred times before his death.

The original was never completed.

The more time you spend in proximity to him, the more you start to understand why the piece resonates with him. You see replicas of him sold throughout the world on a daily basis, his face synonymous with Vought’s branding. There is a completeness to the commercial image of Homelander, America’s wholesome hero, but behind closed doors, you see his frayed and unfinished edges.

You feel his desperation for someone who will complete him in the way he touches you. He takes hold of your hands and brings them to the places where he is sketched at best, a ready and yielding canvas for your fingers. He likes when you stroke his hair, and sometimes touching his face turns his eyes glassy. There is a woundedness to the way he seeks your love, like he’s never entirely sure whether to expect the carrot or the stick.

You’ve never raised the stick to him, but it’s clear that those who came before you certainly did. It’s difficult to imagine that a man as powerful as him has been hurt like this, but he is a painfully obvious man at times, wearing his emotions like the scars his impervious body will never show.

When you lie down to read on the couch, he’s drawn to you like a magnet. He has no problem making space for himself within your bubble, sprawling on top of you, snaking his arms around your middle, his head settled on your sternum. You smile to yourself and rest your book on the top of his head as you read.

He gives a small grunt of complaint, but you’re fairly certain he’s smiling, too.

For every night of domestic bliss, so too are there sudden perils. Unexplained nights of absence, wild mood swings, fits of paranoia. He fights as many battles in his own mind as he does on the city streets and on foreign soil, a living weapon used to the fullest extent by Vought and the American government.

It feels like you lose him temporarily, like he becomes someone else. He paces around you like a caged tiger with his teeth bared, daring you to give him a reason to bite. You never do, and he never does, but sometimes you worry just how close of a call it was.

Occasionally he comes to you spattered in muck and bloody viscera. On these nights, he can’t seem to comprehend your presence, your gentleness, your love. It’s as if these concepts ring false in the wake of everything he has been made to endure. It’s suspicious to him that you would love something so repulsive, so opposite of everything Vought has polished his image into being.

He screams at you for this, takes you by the shoulders and demands you explain what he cannot understand, but you can’t. You can’t explain something that you don’t always understand.

Your relationship with Homelander is a delicious, precarious thing. Like a perfectly ripe peach, its closeness to something bruised and rotten makes it all the sweeter.

When things are good, they’re very good. He’s sweet, a romantic who learned everything he knows about romance from jewelry ads and Valentine’s Day specials. He brings you roses on random days of the week and adores showering you in gifts, especially the kind you wear. He tends to gravitate towards soft, velvety fabrics for your clothes because he likes the feel of them. He buys you perfumes that smell like vanilla and pink pepper. He likes fresh, warm scents. Nothing too floral or artificial.

Most importantly, he likes you. There’s rarely a day that the two of you don’t make each other laugh. His sense of humor is strange, but in the same way that yours is. Sometimes it feels like you’re two aliens creating a brand new language that only the two of you will ever know. The more time you spend together, the less the people outside of your relationship seem to understand you.

Not that it matters much. You spend the majority of your time with him these days, consumed by the excitement of this thrilling new thing the two of you share. Homelander is profoundly tactile, always needing to feel or touch you in some way. He loves to kiss you, content to make out languidly with you until your lips start to chap.

You’ve learned to keep lip balm on hand at all times.

Inevitably though, his hunger for intimacy outgrows quaint touches and kisses. You’re cuddled up together on his couch, only half paying attention to the movie playing. Homelander is nuzzling at your neck, pressing warm, wet kisses to it while his gloved hand slips beneath your shirt, fondling your breast through your bra. There’s something endearingly innocent about it, like a fumbling teenager piloting the body of a man in his forties.

Sex is nice enough. You have nothing against the act, but you’ve never felt as though you get as much out of it as the partners you’ve had in the past. Homelander’s touch feels good to you because it’s his, and because you know he wants to make you feel good in his enjoyment of you. You reciprocate by pushing your fingers into his hair, nails scraping along his scalp, eliciting a sweet, rumbling moan from him against your neck.

“Want you,” he mumbles fervently against your skin, his need so palpable it gives you goosebumps. “Can I have you?”

You knew this was coming. It’s not that you don’t want to fuck him, it’s that he’s not the only one whose portrait feels incomplete. You’re a fully grown adult, and never in your life have you managed to pleasure yourself to completion. In your youth, you’d just faked it for partners once you’d had your fill. With Homelander, you’re not even sure that would work. You’re not sure you would want it to.

He’s got a thing about lies, even little white ones.

You swallow and softly say, “Yes.” Ultimately, you do want him to have you. You just hope that what he gets doesn’t disappoint him.

He smiles into the crook of your neck, withdrawing his hand from beneath your shirt. He kisses you as he gathers you effortlessly up into his arms, carrying you to his bedroom. His strength is another aspect of why sex has made you nervous: the internet is full of horror stories of accidental sexual mutilation occurring between humans and supes.

However, Homelander seems hyper aware of your fragility versus his power. He’s never harmed you. It seems to come naturally to him after years and years of navigating a world not made to withstand him. In the same way you’re capable of handling an egg without shattering it, he has learned how to hold you.

He lays you down on the bed, and then begins the ritual of shedding his signature suit, starting with his belt. You recline, content to watch him, but your gaze seems to make him uncharacteristically self conscious. You’ve never seen him without his suit before, another little quirk that you’ve largely just accepted to this point.

“Aren’t you gonna…” He gestures vaguely to you, expecting you to undress as well.

“Just enjoying the show,” you say coyly, attempting to lighten up a bit of the tension in his expression.

It doesn’t work. The furrow of his brows deepens slightly. “Ah, well. Y’know, the suit, they uh, pad it up some, so don’t–it’s different,” he says, fumbling over his words.

Your expression softens. “I know. It’s okay. I’m excited to see you,” you say, sitting up. In solidarity, you pull your shirt off first, and then wiggle out of your pants, kicking them off the bed. Homelander smiles at this, and works his pants off the rest of the way, kicking off his boots as well, leaving behind just a pair of dark red briefs. You sit up on your knees to help him with the fastenings of his suit top, which he seems to be the most apprehensive about.

To distract him from it, you kiss him. He melts eagerly into the press of your lips, slipping his tongue between yours with that same hunger to taste, to feel, to have. He’s bolder now that you’re no longer playing the part of spectator, shrugging his top from his shoulders and letting it fall with a surprisingly heavy thud to the floor. His ungloved hands skim up your sides, warm and positively thrumming with excitement.

You explore him as well, mapping out the slopes of his body that have previously been hidden from you. He’s leaner, more manageable than the ridiculous bulk of the suit. Part of you had always assumed there was a level of exaggeration in the chiseled, over the top musculature of the suit, but his build is still more slender than you expected. Regardless, it does nothing to detract from his raw strength as he catches you by the backs of your thighs and flips you onto your back, startling out a giddy bark of laughter from you.

He grins down at you, descending to catch you in another slow, consuming kiss, making space for himself between your legs. His lips trail from yours to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck. He turns his head to messily suck two fingers into his mouth, and then slips his hand down the front of your underwear. He finds your clit with surprising precision–someone definitely taught him that–and begins to rub slow figure-eights over it, as gentle as he is deft. It does feel good, so you close your eyes and try to simply enjoy it for what it is, for the touch and warmth and intimacy of it all.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t come. This is still nice. You can feel his desire for you in the heat of his body, in the hot huffs of his breath wafting across your skin between kisses. He eventually slips a single finger inside you, patiently working you open. You drag your nails up his back and into his hair, breathing deeply, willing your mind to pause and let you experience this pleasantry in the same way you would a hot bath or a nice massage.

However, no matter how you try, the looming matter of expectation weighs heavily on your mind. You’ve never been comfortable with the attention being solely on your pleasure: it feels like dangling a treat in front of someone on a treadmill. They’re running for something they’ll never reach.

“Hey,” Homelander calls quietly, yanking you from your mental downward spiral. You see him above you, no longer tucked against you, working your skin with his lips and teeth. His brows are slightly furrowed. “You’re quiet. Am I doing something wrong?”

“No,” you exhale, the question immediately putting a wash of guilt through you. “No, not at all, feels good. I’m just really in my head right now,” you admit, cupping either side of his face. “You’re doing great, I’m ready. I want you inside me,” you tell him in a breathless flurry, pulling him down into a kiss.

He does relax at that, sinking in against you for a moment before lifting himself back up. He shucks his underwear down and then pulls yours off as well, lifting both of your legs over his shoulder as he slips the panties completely off of you. While he does that, you unclasp and toss your bra aside. He turns his head to kiss the side of your leg before he lowers them both back down around his waist, lowering himself back down atop you.

The thick head of his cock presses wetly to your cunt, sliding up and down, spreading his slick and yours. You can already feel his excitement in the tension of his body, his shoulders drawn tight beneath your hands. You knead them, rolling your palms against steel-woven muscle. “That’s it,” you encourage, working to relax the both of you. “Nice and slow, mmm… Fuck, you’re big,” you say, biting your lip as he spreads you around the girth of his cock.

“You’re tight,” he moans in response, already sounding frayed. He moves his hips in slow, slightly jerky motions–clearly holding back for your comfort–until he finally bottoms out, keening so sweetly in your ear you can’t help but stroke his hair, hushing him.

“Good, good, feel so good in me,” you coo, the words a familiar script. He shudders for the praise, kissing down your chest, mouthing hungrily at your breast, the same he’d been fondling earlier. His mouth is hot and wet, perfectly pleasant as he sucks at your nipple, moaning into your skin. You cradle his head in both hands, adjusting to the onslaught of sensation.

It’s been awhile since anyone fucked you. The feel of it is just as alien as you remember, but you’re distracted by the persistent swirl of his tongue alternating with the pull of his lips as he lavishes attention on one breast, and then the other. With his bare skin against yours, you’re more aware than ever of the superhuman frequency of his body, how he seems to literally vibrate with restraint and eagerness in equal measure. It’s like there is a line of semi trucks driving by you, the bed itself buzzing with it.

“You’re amazing,” you marvel quietly, tightening your legs on either side of him to feel that preternatural hum against even more of your skin, tingling your inner thighs. “You feel amazing.”

He grunts out a needy, strained noise at that, followed by a jagged thrust deep into you. To your surprise, you realize then that he’s coming apart, dull nails biting crescent marks into your skin, clutching you as tightly as he dare allow himself. You thought that maybe his powers would give him superhuman stamina as well, that he might fuck you raw before he came, but if the shaky cadence of his thrusts are any indication, he’s already holding himself back.

“I can feel how bad you wanna come,” you murmur, carding your fingers through his hair. “Mm? You can, you can come in me,” you say, feeling his whole body shiver from your words. You clench, tightening up around his cock so suddenly that it makes him gasp.

“Fffuck, fuck, oh god, y’can’t–fucking Christ, you–mmm, fuck!” He rasps, choking on his own breath as he comes, burying his face between your breasts at the same time he slams in deep, fading into tight, erotic little whimpers as he loses himself to the rhythmic clench of your cunt. You do it purposefully, milking him of his orgasm, enamored with how thoroughly you’ve reduced a demigod to these simpering noises. The flood of come is hot inside you, already dripping out where your bodies are connected.

All that, and he still never lost control. You doubt his fingerprints will even bruise, though you find a part of yourself wishing they would.

Homelander comes down gradually from his high, limp against you, breathing shallowly against your skin. He looks dazed, eyes only half open. It’s cute, which isn’t a word you necessarily would have ever thought to associate with The Homelander before you started dating him. When he looks up at you, you smile, already more satisfied than you’ve been with sex in your life.

“That was playing dirty,” he tells you, voice a touch fried.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you respond simply, watching as he nuzzles into your hand.

He rumbles out a low hum, kissing your palm. “Which means it’s my turn to make you feel good,” he says, moving to slide out of your hands. You stop him, taking hold of his arm.

“You don’t need to,” you assure him, tugging gently to lure him back up. “Really. That felt incredible.”

He frowns, looking every bit like a confused puppy. “But you didn’t come.”

“I know,” you say, that ball of tightness coiling back up in your gut. “It’s okay.”

He exhales an incredulous little scoff. “What kind of boyfriend d’you take me for? I’m gonna make you come,” he says, shrugging off your hand as he moves down your body, sliding out of you.

“Homelander,” you implore, reaching out for him. “Really, it’s okay, you don’t need to–”

“What, you don’t think I can?” He asks. You can see the challenge in his eyes, but you also recognize the potential of a stinging wound to his ego in those words.

You sigh, folding your arm over your eyes as you lay your head back. “It’s not that I don’t think you specifically can, I’m… Eugh.” You take a deep breath. “It’s not something that I do. I can’t. I’ve never been able to,” you say to the darkness of your arm, fingers rolling apprehensively. “And I don’t want you to take this as some kind of challenge, and then be upset when it doesn’t happen,” you say, speaking from very specific experience.

The space between you is silent for long enough that your curiosity beats out your apprehension, and you lower your arm. Homelander stares at you from between your legs, expression pinched, eyes flickering slightly, as if he’s solving the world’s most complicated puzzle in his brain. His eyes narrow softly, his bewilderment showing.

“Like… You haven’t come… Ever?”

“Ever,” you confirm. “It’s not that I haven’t tried, there’s just something broken.”

He processes that a moment longer. “But all of this still felt good, at least… Yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course it did, I liked it. You really do feel amazing,” you assure him, lest he think you were lying with what you said earlier. “It just never finishes for me. That’s all.”

“Alright,” he says, the gears in his brain clearly turning. “So. Sure, no crossing the finish line, but I can still, y’know. Take you for a cruise? A little joyride?” He asks, making you laugh softly.

He really is cute. Sweeter than one might expect, too.

“A joyride?” You echo with a quirk of your brow, smiling.

He smiles, too. “Yeah. No destination, just a little drive.”

“I can do a little drive,” you say, feeling that knot of tension in your gut begin to untangle itself.

“Good,” he purrs, shouldering down between your legs. “Gimme that pillow,” he says, which you promptly do. He slides it under your ass, adjusting your hips until the angle is just right. He smooths his hands up and down the outsides of your thighs, glancing up at you. “Now, you just sit back and relax. Close your eyes, and imagine some smooth jazz.”

“I hate jazz,” you laugh.

He laughs as well, breath rolling over your wet pussy in hot waves. “Well, fuck, imagine something you do like.”

Relaxing back against the bed, you exhale a deep breath, closing your eyes. The first wet, hot slide of his tongue makes you jump a little. He responds by gripping your thighs and pinning you still, which does admittedly run a little thrill up your spine. You test his grip by pushing against it, and when that fails, pulling away, but neither grant you any leeway.

“Squirming already?” He asks between drags of his tongue.

“I like feeling your strength,” you say through a pleased little smile.

He gives an intrigued hum at that and spreads your legs wider, forcing them down against the bed. To even your surprise, that pushes a small, thin noise out of you. Encouraged, he presses his tongue inside, lapping up the mess he made inside you. It feels fine enough, but after a bit of his tongue pushing in and out of you, you give his hair a little tug. “Clit,” you say simply, a command he happily obliges, drawing back up to suck your clit between his lips.

Without the looming pressure to achieve some kind of euphoric release at the end, you find yourself more capable of simply enjoying this for what it is. Homelander is good at this, but it’s really his persistence that elevates the experience. At no point do you feel him begin to waver or slow, or shift and breathe in impatience. He’s relentlessly consistent, swirling his tongue and lapping at you like he’s starved for the taste.

You sigh, idly scratching his scalp as you toy with his hair. “Mmm, that feels good,” you say, more aware of the effect your praises have on him. He makes an appreciative noise, nuzzling into your cunt. One odd thing is that your clit is starting to ache in a way you’re unfamiliar with. You shift back a touch, but Homelander pulls you right back in.

“Greedy,” you accuse, which draws a low laugh from him, the rumble of it making you shiver a little. You must be growing oversensitized. You’ve lost track of how long he’s been at this.

He pulls back, and the cool air almost stings for the loss of his hot mouth, but that ache was beginning to grow uncomfortable anyways. You’re just about to thank him for his service when a whole new sensation steals the words right off your tongue. You don’t even know how to describe it: hot, pressure, but weightless. Your whole body jerks, but Homelander keeps you still, forces you to endure whatever the fuck it is he’s doing now.

“Wh-what the fuck is that?” Watching him, comprehension dawns; he’s blowing on your clit, lips pursed, forcing out a concentrated stream of warm, almost hot air that has your thighs quivering in his grasp. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, equal parts bewildered and overwhelmed. You try to close your knees, but once again, his hold is completely unrelenting, keeping them spread wide. Immediately that same ache is skyrocketing back up, spreading tightness low in your belly.

“Hold on,” you groan, gripping his hair tighter. You expect it to end before too long, for him to at least need to inhale, but beyond all logic and reason, he just keeps going. The heat of it is surreal, the weightless pressure of it constant. Your toes curl, heels digging into the bed while every muscle in your body starts to lock up.

Homelander’s gaze flickers up to meet yours, nothing pure wicked delight in his eyes. Just as suddenly, he descends upon you, tongue feeling hotter and wetter than ever as he dotes on your clit with it, focusing it with alarming precision. The abrupt change in sensation makes you thrash, stumbling over a stream of nonsense as you pull at his hair, that aching tightness now so prominent that you can hardly take in a breath.

“That’s enough, that’s–fuck, Homelander, it’s too much, it’s too much, s-stop, s–” your pleas erupt into a gasp because he’s focusing that stream of air right back on you again, the feel of it so surreal, so indescribable that your brain can hardly function around it. Your eyes roll back, you writhe, but he’s so much stronger than you’d ever really wrapped your mind around. He’s entirely unyielding in a way he’s never felt in your arms, against your body on the couch. He’s more inhuman than he’s ever been, and it’s driving you wild.

Tears gather in your eyes. This assault of sensation walks the knife’s edge of pain, but never quite falls over it. Your whole body is throbbing, and you feel like you’re going to fucking explode. He twists that knife by taking you again with his tongue, swirling and slick in contrast to the dry pressure of his breath.

“H-Homelander, Homelander, please, I’m–I’m–fuck!”

The world turns white, and suddenly you can’t breathe. You hear yourself make a strained noise you’ve never heard before, but it might as well not even be you. You’re somewhere outside of your own body, floating in a torrent of indescribable sensory input that is so alien to you, you don’t even feel real anymore. Homelander isn’t holding you still anymore, but you can still feel him slowly lapping at your throbbing clit, watching you through foggy eyes as he licks you through your first orgasm, no doubt tasting and smelling the endorphins that flood your body.

Every single taut muscle in your body snaps like the strings of a marionette, leaving you to collapse limply on the bed, panting through it as your soul gradually descends back down into your body. Blissfully, Homelander ceases his torment and joins you, laying sideways with his head propped up in his palm while his other hand rests on your hip, thumb rubbing soothing circles.

“Oh my God,” you whisper eventually.

“Please, you can still call me Homelander,” he says, sounding just as smug as one would expect him to be after such an accomplishment. If you had any power whatsoever left in your lifeless arm, you’d smack him. However, he quickly makes up for it by drawing you gently into his arms, kissing your forehead.

“I can’t believe you did that,” you say, more malleable than ever as he adjusts you both beneath the blankets. “I thought I was going to die.” It’s only a slight hyperbole.

Homelander laughs softly, beaming at you with pink cheeks and a sly, delighted little smile. “See? Nothing’s broken,” he murmurs at your ear, catching you off guard. That had been such an offhand remark, you didn’t expect to hear it come back around.

“What if I hadn’t? What if all that, and nothing happened?” You ask, adjusting slightly while he entangles his limbs with yours, bodies slotting together like jigsaw pieces. You’re both jagged in all the right ways, fitting nicely together.

He gives a small shrug, stroking his knuckles up and down your spine. “Still would’a been a hell of a ride. Not everything has to be finished to be good.”

Slowly, you smile. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Loving Homelander isn’t always easy or good. There are times when he makes it hard, and there are times when you make it hard, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned in this lifetime, nothing worth doing is ever easy. Love may start as an incidental thing, a passion that ignites as readily as tinder, but the upkeep of it is more like pottery. It’s messy, and even once you get the shape of it right, you don’t always know how it will react to the heat necessary to give it solid form. It can be broken, it can be fixed, it can even be remade, but never is one the same as the last.

Still, even when it hurts, when it’s frustrating, when it doesn’t turn out the way you wanted it to, the euphoria of creating something so beautiful keeps you coming back to it. When the same love that burns you can also warm you against the cold, coat your throat like honey, and fill your night sky with stars to guide your way in darkness, it becomes impossible to let go of.

To love something is to heal it. Everything that is loved is beautiful, even things that are unsightly, unfinished, unappealing. Even things that are broken.

Finally, you think you understand why Stuart never finished his original painting.

He loved it precisely as it was.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #homelander #my writing #smut #this fic. idk what happened here this is NOT what i expected to write lol #fun fact: the reason that the athenaeum portrait was never finished was because martha washington wanted it for herself when it was done #and stuart loved it so much he didn't want to part with it #this has been homelander's history corner

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trashmouth-richie · 3 months

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hi, ziggy! ahhh i missed hih ❤️ could you pretty please do something for jealous!eddie where maybe somebody flirts with tooty because she got that milf glow after she had the babies lmao ily ❤️

anon💕💕 thank you for the req! this took a little spin and has an open ending, but!!! the twins are in this and some other familiar faces ❤️ might get a part 2? who knows!

a night out without the kids. almost an unheard of event. but tonight corroded coffin were performing their annual concert the night before halloween.

sissy & oz toted their overnight bags up the paved sidewalk to grandma and grandpa’s house— the same house you had once called home when the wheeler’s took you in as a teen.

reaching the front door eddie squats to eye level with the twin three year olds. “okay you two,” he says in his fatherly tone, “last time you stayed the night grandpa said you terrorized the cat.”

“i no do it daddy,” sissy speaks her little voice high pitched and tattling, “ows chaseded hims.”

a frown spreads on her brothers face his brown eyes pleading, “i did not! sissy made tinky swim in the potty!”

eddie bites his lip to hide a laugh and you take a deep breath, “that’s another thing, the cat’s name is bruce, not stinky.”

“but mama,” sissy complains, head held high in a defiant pose— one eddie recognizes as a mini version of his wife, “boose 's hard to say.”

eddie ruffles her hair and stands up, talking out of the side of his mouth, “always arguing like someone else i know,”

his large hand slides down the curve of your ass pinching the leather fabric snug on your skin, giving it a tight little squeeze.

“eddie!” you scold, swatting his hand away, “not in front of the babies.”

he grabs your waist and pulls you back into him before you can rap your knuckles on the front door. his mouth is hot in your ear, “sorry mama,” he purrs, dancing his tongue on the shell of your ear, “you just look so fucking hot tonight.”

sissy and oz are both slapping the door with both palms as it swings inward. “who’s makin’ all that racket?!”

“gwampa! it’s us!”

“issy and ows!”

wayne smiles as big as he always did when his grandbabies visited, “are you sure y’all ain’t no robbers are ya?”

“gwampa’s silly, daddy!” oz squeaks, squeezing wayne tight around his leg.

eddie grins and chuckles, “aww nah buddy that word is ‘senile’”

you smack eddie in the chest and usher the kids inside to play with their cousin, alex. “thanks for watching them tonight, we really appreciate it,” you say to wayne reaching through the threshold and giving him a hug.

“ah, ain’t no problem,” wayne says flipping eddie the bird behind your back, “karen and i love these little turds.”

“u too oh two be good for grandpa and grandma okay? eddie hollers, “be nice to the cat, sissy… i’m talkin’ to you.”

her little nose wrinkles into a pout and her brows furrow together.

“swear to christ himself, that kid is the spittin’ image of you, tooty.”

“god help me.” eddie pouts, “i’m gonna go gray before i’m forty.”

—

you kiss the kids goodbye and wave from the windows of your jeep before heading to the hideout. eddie looked particularly good tonight, leather pants, a cut off shirt, he even let you smear some eyeliner on his eyelids before tonight’s gig.

“nervous?” you ask, carrying some cords from eddie’s old van that now belonged to big d.

gareth walks past you with an amp, “not really, the hideouts like home away from home, makes me feel 18 again.”

you smile and ruffle his still thick curls, “will coming tonight?”

a sad look replaces his smile, “haven’t talked to him in a week… last i heard from jonathan he was staying with joyce and hopper.”

“he’ll come around man,” eddie says coming through the back door, “he loves you.”

“yeah, i hope.”

—

the boys— men now— rocked a killer show, fans still screaming for the band even though half of them were married and the lead singer had two kids.

you were front in center, in your designated spot that you always stood after the first show where eddie sang ‘lady evil’ just for you.

now you were sporting a new homemade shirt, ‘sitter’ crossed out with ‘mama’ his old leather jacket on your shoulders.

a hand sits on your lower back you giggle, “jeez nance, how drunk are you?”

only it wasn’t nancy, but a random guy. burly and tall, a thick beard on his face matching the short hair on his head, balancing a cowboy. you didn’t recognize him from anywhere and you pull back with a shocked face,

he smiles and you can smell liquor on his breath as he leans in real close, “been watchin’ you all night little darlin’ looks like you need a drink.”

you scowl and turn away from him, looking for jonathan and nancy but they’re nowhere to be found.

“hey,” he blunders stumbling towards you, “you like cowboys?”

you don’t want to give him the time of day or even the satisfaction of a tasteful retort so you do your best to ignore him, looking at eddie as he turns to thrash the guitar riff with jeff.

eddie turns back around to continue the song and shoots you a wink, the same time a big sloppy pair of lips press on your cheek, hard and unwelcoming.

you didn’t see eddie’s eyes turn to black or the way he dropped the neck of his guitar hands balled into fist, you were seeing your own scarlet red, turning and slapping the face of the drunk asphalt “cowboy”.

eddie cuts the band and grabs the mic, “hey fucker!” he pushes his lips in a smooch and whistles like a dog, “here boy, up here.. yeah you— the guy who just got slapped.”

cowboy slap face looked up to the band, “what?”

“you must be new to town, huh? a drifter maybe?”

he lifts his head and spits on the ground, “what’s it to you?”

eddie laughs a little crazy-like, “… that,” he says pointing to you, “is my wife… and i’m sure you don’t know this or maybe your marbles are a little rattled up there with the cobwebs, but..” he jumps from the stage in a dramatic flare, wet hair bouncing behind him, skin slicked in sweat.

he tossing the mic behind him, standing tall and flicking the brim of the guys hat, toe to toe. “i’m not afraid to kill a man.”

“you’re bluffin’,”

“wouldn’t be my first, and for her,” he says moving you behind him, “won’t be my last,”

….

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut

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appleblueberry-pie · 25 days

Text

New Girl, Same Old Me.

A drabble. This 4 you, @dirtyspongesoften

Toji felt his stomach coil as he sat in the expensive chair. Expensive forks clanked on the expensive plates around him and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. You looked up at him, worrying about how he'd handle this, knowing he's not used to being in an expensive restaurant in public. He met eyes with you once more and gave you a small smile.

"Are you okay?" You asked. He nodded and watched with hawk eyes as the waiter placed your expensive food down in front of the both of you. "As good as I can be." He scanned the room once more, as if someone was following him before allowing himself to tear into the 14 oz steak. Medium-rare, just how he liked it. Almost made him groan as he chewed and cut himself another piece.

You watched him and also took your own few bites of your food before stopping to think about a topic to bring up. "So....want to tell me why I had to save you in the rain the other day?" He glanced up at you, shoving vegetables into his mouth as well. When was the last time he ate? He inhales, straightening his back. "I'm not a good guy, sweetheart." You pause mentally and realize he might be right. But you didn't want to believe him. His face was hardened probably from years of combat, a scar on his mouth to tell the tale. He almost towered over you at this small table-for-two the both of you sat at, rippling muscles defined, even with the thick black turtleneck you gave him to wear to seem proper. His eyes cold as iron, and even with his body on fire, the iron in his pupils heats as well, adapting to temperatures. He's what he says he is. But you don't want to think that. He seems more than that to you.

"I don't believe you." You shake your head, swallowing your bite before going back to your plate for more. "Don't have to." He shrugs and chugs the rest of the champagne in his (large) wine glass. "I've done things that make people run from me, unable to trust me. It's why I can't find a place and also why I can't find proper work. You don't even know me, but you let me in your house for a few nights. You don't know what I've done in the time you've slept. So, how do you know you can trust me, babe?" He almost seems to purr the words to you, leaning over the table so you could hear him better.

You wished the table wasn't so small. His ankles brushing against yours under the large white cloth. You wished he wasn't so attractive. It was hard to take him seriously when he was staring at you like that. "I....I don't know." He laughs and sits back to scrape up the remains off of his plate, finishing before you.

You sigh and continue the second half of your own plate. You didn't even plan the rest of the date out. But...it feels like it's not up to you to decide.

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aestheticaltcow · 3 months

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Fatherhood: Billy Hargrove

Billy met you when he moved back to California after graduating high school and turning 18. He got a job working at an autobody shop. He watched you pull up in a baby blue 1969 Bronco; he was the first one to come up to ask you what kind of help you needed. You thought he was cute and hoped to run into him again.

While driving home after work, he noticed that same Bronco in the parking lot of the local grocery store. He didn’t want to seem like a stalker, but seeing you twice in one day felt like a sign.

He was right to ‘run into you’ at the grocery store- you asked him if he wanted to hang out that weekend, and the rest was history.

Your relationship moved ‘quickly,’ saying ‘I love you’ after a couple of months, moving in together at six months, and engaged within a year of knowing one another. Your friends thought you were insane, and so did your parents- until they saw just how happy Billy made you.

After a small wedding on the beach, the two of you enjoyed a few years of married bliss before deciding to start your family. You wanted ‘like a million’ kids. Billy wanted to make you happy but couldn’t suppress his fears of being like his father. ‘Billy, you’re nothing like him- you’re different, love.’ as much as you tried to reassure him, it could only do so much.

You wanted to tell Billy you were pregnant in some cute way, but he beat you to it when he was emptying the bathroom trash, ‘Holy shit.’ he muttered under his breath before going back inside the house to ask you if it was true. When you nodded, he hugged you tightly and promised to be the man you saw him as.

Watching your body change throughout your pregnancy made Billy feral. Knowing you were having his baby- it just did something to him. He’d rub your feet and hands at the end of the day to help alleviate swelling pains. He’d help you rub cocoa butter on your bump to help with stretch marks. He went to every appointment and listened as you summarized parenting books to him.

When the two of you found out you were having a boy- Billy tried not to think about the pain Neil had put him through; he would be the father he’d wished for as a kid.

Joseph Anothy Hargrove, 8lbs 14 oz, 19 inches, was born August 15, 1991. Billy was in love the second he laid his eyes on the infant; he had your eyes- how could he not fall in love with those eyes all over again?

In the early months of Joseph’s life, Billy felt useless. He tried his best to help and became inactive as Joseph got older and slightly less dependent on you. His favorite time of day was the early mornings he’d spend with Joseph; you’d be asleep in your shared bedroom. Billy would sit in the rocking chair in the corner and hold Joseph against his bare chest, ‘I got you, baby. Daddy’s always gonna be there.’

Billy kept that promise. Whenever his son needed him, he was there. He coached Little League basketball and even took a turn being the leader of his Boy Scout group.

Both of you taught him how cars worked- although you’d sneak away after a few minutes to give the boys their bonding time, you loved how Billy relaxed when he was with Joseph.

Billy had broken the cycle.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fan fiction #billy hargrove fan fic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove one shot #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove headcanon #stranger things #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fan fic #stanger things imagine #stranger things one shot #stranger things headcanons

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shannonsketches · 5 months

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I noticed that the element of the triforce that the individual characters are supposed to represent, is also their weakness. Zelda's wisdom is being stifled by doubt and lack of experience; she's eager to learn, but her zeal is not enough and relies on faith and Link to save the day. I'm not implying that wisdom and faith cannot go hand in hand, but she needs to be able to represent her element more. Maybe her wisdom is knowing when to wait and allow someone else to bear the task? But it takes away too much initiative from her. Ganon's element is power but he's the one who ends up losing almost every time. And Ganondorf on his own, isn't powerless! He's a king, he knows magic, he can wield almost any weapon, he's patient, conniving and intelligent and knows how to make best with what he has. He isn't weak! And yet, the whole split happened, because he was feeling powerless.

They locked themselves in a self-sabotaging cycle that's powered by doubt.

Yeah! So one of the reasons I really love the Triforce lore is that it’s a three-way mirror that reflects both what the user has and also what they need (very wizard of oz).

Ganondorf is a very powerful man, physically, and magically.

Politically, though, he’s next to helpless, which is an awful thing for a king to be. He’s a king of thieves in OoT, because the Gerudo are not a wealthy or thriving nation there. In-Game they don’t have a local living area like the other regions (or even a store — just one floating bombchu salesman in the middle of the desert) — they’ve got a post-war fortress full of guards, and a temple that is being used as a secret base Hylians can’t get to.

Consider also, Ganondorf is the most highly decorated of the Gerudo, and he’s not decked out in gold. He’s wearing mostly iron and topaz. Nabooru and Twinrova are the only ones who have gold fixtures/jewelry along with the higher ranked guards for their protective elements (which is why I think it could arguably be pale bronze or yellow brass, which is a common and highly durable gold alternative).

The Gerudo are implicitly just surviving in OoT, and Hyrule speaks of them like they’re monsters (except for the one guy in town who has a fetish). More than that, WW establishes that his real grief comes from the weather, which any mortal is powerless to control.

So Ganondorf is powerful as a person, but powerless as a king, which is literally the only thing he was born to be.

Be that as it may, though, he is a well-loved king, and a survivor, and a thief, so he also has to embody both wisdom and courage too!

Zelda is the most obvious mirror to Ganondorf. She is a very powerful woman politically and magically, but physically-- compared to Ganondorf -- she's terribly meek. That's the obvious read, that they're 1:1 Parallels, but her real weakness lies in her courage.

Zelda (in OoT) leans on her massive political power -- In the child timeline, she literally sees a foreign dignitary executed before he does anything wrong, based on a recurring dream she has.

Do you know how insane that is? Do you realize how powerful she is?

Ganondorf is not just some guy -- he's a foreign KING. He's a KING that a TEN YEAR OLD had EXECUTED based on VIBES.

And we think she embodies wisdom because her vibes were (as we, the audience know) correct. But it's actually because as an adult, she understands that none of it needed to happen that way. That the only reason Ganondorf was able to pull off his stunt and get the Triforce at all was because she tried to control the situation, sending Link to gather everything Ganondorf couldn't get himself and put it all precisely where Ganondorf needed it to be.

Despite being a child at the time, by the end of the story, by the time she's Sheik, Zelda is taking full responsibility for what happened, and is doing everything in her now extremely limited power to fix it. She's so sorry to need Link, and at the end of it all is desperate to give him another chance to be a kid, and to be innocent, and to be happy, because she realized so quickly that she never should've involved him, visions be damned. She knows none of it was his fault or his business, and she's mortified that she dragged him into it in her own attempt to control the weather.

These other two items shift in other games -- WW and Twilight Princess show us a Zelda with tremendous courage and very little power, physical or political. And then the Wild's era, despite removing the Triforce narrative, shows us a Zelda with immense power and terrible guilt and insecurity -- her power locked behind her fear, and she is only able to access both when she embraces courage.

Which brings us to Link.

Link, on the surface, is a third wheel in a chess game between ancients. But the reality is that he's the base of the prism. He's the foundation that reflects both of the others.

There are MANY different personalities for Link, and personally my favorite gag is that Link is simply too stupid to be scared, but that's just a gag -- because something I've come to really enjoy and respect about him is that he consistently displays fear. Link embodies courage because he is full of fear and chooses to fight anyway. Link leads a good life. He is comfortable, he has family, he has friends, he knows peace. What makes Link courageous is that he is willing to give up his access to all of that if it means that everyone else keeps theirs.

Link will lock himself in a room with the apocalypse if it means he's the only one who gets hurt, and it's not because he believes this is his sacred duty, or his life's purpose -- he'd much rather be at home chasing chickens around or riding his pony through some pretty scenic route -- it's because he is so full of love for other people that he's willing to give up anything to keep them safe.

Link's not very powerful, but he is also unburdened by any desire to be powerful. Link's not very wise, but he is unburdened by any desire to be wise. Link is content in who he is, Link is happy to keep things simple. But Link is so brave that he becomes a leader, which actually makes him the most dangerous of the three.

Courage, unburdened, is fucking terrifying. To both Wisdom and Power. Because, unlike Wisdom and Power, Courage is contagious.

Link can empower and inspire and reveal truths others might not have been able to find on their own. Link doesn't need charisma or brutality. Link can build armies just by being observed.

"But Sketches, you haven't really said anything about how Link reflects the other two." It's subtle! But he does. I see it like this:

• Ganondorf reflects Link's relentless determination, refusing to stand down in the face of impossible odds. In this way, they're connected by their power and courage. • Zelda reflects Ganondorf's burden of being born in a crown, forcing them to learn leadership, and how to use their recklessness strategically, as children. In this way, they're connected by their power and wisdom. • Link reflects Zelda's sense of love for the faceless innocent, and her dedication to protecting all who can't protect themselves. In this way, they're connected by their courage and wisdom.

Because the inherent configuration of the triforce requires those connections to be balanced -- Separately they are overwhelmed by their traits. Ganondorf is willing to sacrifice everything he is in order to reach his goals, Zelda is so pre-occupied with preventing prophecy she ends up instigating it, and Link is so ready to step in and help that he never considers the consequences.

Every single one of them, left to their own devices, would rather see themselves destroyed than fail those who may or may not be relying on their success. They're all very similar, highly reflective characters who all represent compelling foils for each other and yes, display how their unfettered strengths are also the thing that damage them most.

#i LOVE triforce plot #I will never stop loving triforce mythos #FUCK good versus evil give me people being desperate and flawed #lozhc #oot eidolon #this is a very sloppy disorganized essay but I'm done looking at it I'm setting it free laksjdla

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hlficlibrary · 6 months

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HL Fic Library 🧡 Kid Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

🧡 the wonderlands by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci {M, 150k}

"Somewhere between chaos and control — these are the wonderlands."

Harry's daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis' girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair.

🧡 Flour and Chocolate by teaandtumblr {M, 145k}

It was nice, for a bakery he supposed.

Then he approached the display cabinet.

And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN.

What. The. Fuck?

Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.

OR Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.

🧡 Face Your Fears by @sadaveniren {E, 92k}

Harry is a single father, pretending to be a beta after his alpha mated him and left him. He’s getting by just fine raising the twins when Louis walks into his bakery. Too bad him and Louis will never be a thing.

🧡 Just Pretend by @kingsofeverything {E, 90k}

Louis Tomlinson is a divorced dad who doesn't date. What free time he has, he likes to spend with his teenage daughter, and if he wants to take someone home, he does it when she's spending the weekend with her mom.

Then he meets Harry Styles, another divorced dad with a teenage daughter, who convinces him it’s a good idea to pretend they're dating to keep their kids happy.

🧡 Standing on the Edge of Forever by EllaO {M, 55k}

“So let me get this straight. You took Mr. Squiggles from the classroom habitat, took him with you on your fieldtrip to the zoo, and released him in the aviary?”

Harry Styles is a single father, just trying to keep his life organized after losing his husband four years earlier. Between his daughter, Liam's hellion twins, and Sophia throwing him into any romantic tangle she can think of, life gets a little crazy. Of course, everything changes the moment Lo and the twins get interested in their school musical, The Wizard of Oz. Because the new director, Louis Tomlinson, is just about the most attractive man that Harry has ever seen.

Featuring adorable Dad Harry, hotshot actor Louis, three sassy kids, a badass Sophia Smith, and a Liam who just wants all their kids to be well behaved.

🧡 A Life That We Share (I Owe It All to You) by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings {M, 50k}

When Harry's son came home from school crying he didn't think things could get any worse. Lucky for them, things were just about to change for the best.

or Harry's son get bullied until Louis' son shows up :)

🧡 Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie {E, 46k}

Everyone is chasing, searching, dreaming of their soulmate.

Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. The unexpected passing of Louis' mum, and the fact that now he is the guardian of his twin two-year-old little siblings, just means that Harry is going to have to wait a bit longer.

A soulmate AU full of cute kids, house building, therapy, and a lot of dreaming.

🧡 hymns for restless stars by @turnyourankle {E, 37k}

Every Holiday season Louis has his pupils write down their Christmas wishes for class. He's read almost every wish under the sun, but one girl's wish takes him by surprise. It's for her uncle not to be alone anymore. It's not a wild wish by any means, but Louis had no idea that former teen idol Harry Styles was lonely in the first place.

🧡 Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16 {E, 30k}

It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore.

Or a songfic inspired by the song Chicago

🧡 Love is a Compass by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 {M, 27k}

Louis smiled to himself, knowing what Cameron was hinting at. “Did you want to stay with me in my warm bed?”

Cameron nodded as he slipped his thumb back into mouth, fighting to keep his eyes open now. “Please, Lou.”

“Sure. get some sleep, okay?” Louis hugged him tighter and closed his own eyes, his arms heavy with the weight of the little boy they were wrapped around. Just as Louis was dozing off, his eyes too heavy to keep open anymore, he heard whispered words that shattered his heart into a million more pieces.

“Please don’t go to heaven too, Lou.”

Harry waltzes into Louis’ life when everything seems to be crumbling around him. A dad overnight, grief stricken and learning to be a parent as he goes, Harry helps to bring light, laughter and, of course, baked goods back into their lives.

🧡 Enchanted by @brightgolden {E, 25k}

“My close friends usually call me H,” Harry mumbles suddenly after Louis wraps up his story.

That’s unexpected. “Are you telling me I’m your close friend now?” Louis quips, squinting his eyes at Harry.

OR Where Louis finally meets his neighbour. After a few conversations, he begins to realise he is too weak to resist the charms of the new mother and his six month old daughter.

🧡 Barefoot in Blue Jeans by @indiaalphawhiskey {E, 24k}

AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why.

475. The hope that this fear is unfounded.

🧡 Home for Christmas by @haloeverlasting {G, 22k}

The Shameless Hallmark Movie AU you probably didn't ask for.

Or, the one where Harry didn't think he wanted a family, but with a little Christmas magic (and maybe one Louis Tomlinson) he realizes that he is very, very wrong.

🧡 Took Me by Surprise by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {M, 20k}

Louis Tomlinson and his best friend Bridget had a daughter when they were very young and he was on the brink of becoming the next MLS star. Until he blew out his knee.

A decade later, he's the head anchor of the American version of Match of the Day and is raising the coolest nine-year-old on the planet, who happens to be obsessed with Harry Styles - popstar, musician, and all-around household name.

🧡 The Baby Whisperer by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 18k}

Harry’s newborn baby is having trouble sleeping and nothing he does seems to work. Tired and alone and at his wits end, Harry is at a loss until a new neighbour arrives to turn his world upside down.

OR the one where being neighbourly takes on a whole new meaning.

🧡 Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou / @canonlarry {E, 16k}

Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.

🧡 You're A Universe by Jiksa / @jiksax {E, 15k}

Harry doesn’t ever mean to hurt him; Louis doesn’t know how to tell him that it’s the only thing he ever does anymore.

Or, Louis’s a stay-at-home dad in London and Harry’s a business expat in Qatar. Louis doesn’t know how much longer their marriage can survive the distance.

🧡 reckless behaviour by @nouies {E, 13k}

Harry is a retired football player looking for a new opportunity. Louis is the image consultant hired to help him find it.

🧡 It'll Be by @styleandsin {E, 13k}

Louis has always wanted children and he decides he's done waiting for love to come first. However, after adopting a baby girl just days after she's born, he quickly realizes how hard parenting is. Louis hires Harry to be his Nanny, and it all works out great. Until Louis falls in love with him.

🧡 How It Begins (series) by @phdmama {E, 8k}

New town, new job, new school for his daughter. It's a chance to start again for Louis Tomlinson, a clean slate.

Or is it?

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eddies-house · 7 months

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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Seven - Halloween

W/C: 10K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Or where you show up to the town's biggest Halloween Bash and you unexpectantly take on the roll of a babysitter.

A/N: this is a long one..and tbh some of it isn't edited...but i'm super excited about this one but also nervous.

Masterlist

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Bass bumped through the unfamiliar house, vibrating all the way down the driveway and to the street where you stood. Shouting could be heard, no doubt a collection of drunks getting overly excited about something usually mundane. Fog smothered the driveway, a decision you felt was made by someone sober at the time of setting it up only to neglect the fact that everyone would be wasted by the time it got dark, sending people tumbling down the driveway in their drunken state. It did add to the atmosphere though, a nice touch that gave it that eerie, spooky feel the owner was probably going for.

As you trekked up the lengthy and steep driveway, a mock graveyard sat to the right, taking up the space that would usually be the front yard. Fake limbs stuck out of the dirt and splatters of blood painted the plastic headstones. A lonely skeleton sat propped up against one, his arm hanging around it as if it were his good friend. Some pumpkins appeared to be slaughtered and littered throughout the yard, the guts surely rotting in the grass and in one of the trees, hung a hopefully fake body, swaying in the chilly breeze.

From what you had heard, the owners went all out every year, Halloween night being their specialty. The closer to the house you got, the louder the music and the louder the voices got. Donnie had told you that it would be a rager but you severely underestimated her words and took them as a joke. You were already hesitant to even attend but now, you were fully questioning if you should even dare to step through the door. It’d be smart to turn around now and go home, maybe watch a few movies and indulge in that candy you’d bought and placed in a large bowl on the coffee table at home. Half of it was gone of course, you stealing a piece here and there throughout the past week. You could stuff your face with the rest if you left now.

No.

You had to be brave and walk through that door with confidence. Even if it was fake. You were never going to meet new people if you kept hiding away in your tower. This town was never going to feel like home if you didn't start treating it like it. Donnie was the closest person you had to a friend and as much as you appreciated her, she was more than half your age and had a whole family already. She mentioned that people ‘your age’ would definitely be at this party, everyone went to this party.

You can’t miss it. She assured.

But on another hand, no one would miss you anyway, no one ever did. Even if they did know of you. There was no harm in trekking back down the driveway and rushing home to snuggle up in your pajamas, right?

No, you have to do this. You have to push yourself out of your comfort zone even if it feels like you're diving off a cliff. But what if everyone stares at you? And whispers about how they didn’t invite you? Donnie promised anyone who’s anyone attends this party, even people from a few town’s over who hear about it from a friend of a friend. So why couldn’t you shake the feeling that you just didn’t belong? That you were intruding.

Everyone’s gonna hate me.

It was especially embarrassing that you were wearing a Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz costume. It wasn’t even all that out there but you felt so uncomfortable without your standard wardrobe. You felt as if your ruby red glittery heels would suddenly draw unwanted attention, your pigtails making a mockery out of you even if just for the costume. Everyone dressed up so why were you the exception? Why were you the only one they would single out, especially in such a common Halloween costume? You were sure there would probably be much more flamboyant costumes, ghouls and goblins covered in blood, zombies with ungodly amounts of face paint, and even vampires with those ridiculous plastic teeth. No one made fun of them so why were you so insecure?

Every possible outcome ran through your brain while you stalled on the doormat. That is until two men dressed in chicken suits bursted through the door, cackling while they set up for a smoke break on the front porch, completely missing you as you stood there terrified. They leaned over the railing as they went on, slurring about how crazy it was that someone had somehow punctured a hole in the keg, a seemingly impossible task.

You took the opportunity to slip in through the cracked door, gently closing it behind you as you entered the chaos that was the famous Knife’s Edge Halloween Bash. Strobe lights flashed in the corners of what you could make out as the living room and the regular light bulbs in the ceiling were all switched out for purple and green, adding to the ambience. The floor was hidden beneath a sea of people dancing their hearts out to Thriller by Michael Jackson, some attempting to actually perform the dance, and others simply flailing their limbs around and hoping for the best.

A rather convincing mummy was stealing the show, everyone else creating a circle around him as he danced like no one was watching. Not one person glanced your way, either too intoxicated to notice or just unbothered seeing as there were already over a hundred people occupying the house. The line of cars you’d seen up and down the street should have given that away but to be fair, you were too busy running circles in your head and rehearsing how you were going to walk in. All of that went straight to the garbage once you saw the nature of the place.

Everyone was too caught up in having fun to take note of a timid Dorothy sneaking through the front door. Fun. Something you couldn’t see yourself having unless you had at least a drink or two in you. It’s sad but it was the only way to loosen up around such a large volume of people. Sobriety was not an option unless you wanted to remain an anxious fly on the wall.

The only issue was finding the source of alcohol, more than likely in the kitchen which you had yet to locate. In order to get anywhere, you would have to weave through the crowd of sweaty bodies, the smell of tequila and beer already filling your nostrils just by standing a few feet away from them.

Taking a deep breath, you clutch your little wicker basket close to your body and begin squeezing in between people with a polite ‘excuse me’ accompanying every accidental touch. Along the way you pass a preppy cheerleader, a few stereotypical vampires, a cowboy and a cow, a dentist, and some guy with a fake chainsaw covered in fake blood. You’re finally able to see your destination just through a large archway, relief already finding you as you inch closer and closer.

The kitchen’s fluorescent lighting is a major contrast to the purple and green throughout the rest of the house. It still follows the spooky theme, however, with an orange tablecloth draped over the island and purple and orange streamers hanging from the doorway. On the island sits a large punch bowl filled with mysterious red liquid along with a stack of red cups and a few choices of liquor next to it. A bowl of pretzels and some Halloween themed cupcakes are placed next to that, and at the other end, is a bucket of candy along with some various kinds of chips.

Hanging from the chandelier is a homemade ghost using a torn sheet, the eyes and mouth filled in with sharpie. The floor is sticky as you slowly make your way forward, most likely the mysterious liquid that had been spilled several times throughout the night already. More shouting can be heard from the living room, some kind of dance off being announced that you would gladly hide from. So far, you didn’t recognize anyone although it would be pretty difficult to seeing as everyone was dressed up.

Gingerly, you grab a cup and scoop the smallest amount of the mystery liquid in. Upon taking the tiniest sip, you can determine that it's some kind of jungle juice. A hangover in a cup. With disgust written on your face, you discreetly throw out the remaining juice in the sink, instead opting to take a shot or two to loosen up. Maybe just one for now. You learned your lesson when taking four straight tequila shots at a time and didn’t need a repeat. Especially at a party with several hundred people as witnesses.

So you fill the bottom of your cup with some whiskey, a generous shot. Throwing it back, it goes down a lot smoother than that tequila had, the burn being mild but still causing your face to twist. The cup is discarded in the trash, cutting yourself off before you can get ahead so as not to get absolutely wasted within minutes. If you had an appetite, you’d snatch one of those delicious looking cupcakes but unfortunately, you needed to pace yourself. Nerves and alcohol didn't make for the most stable stomach and you were already feeling queasy just from the mere thought of having to socialize with strangers.

Exploring further into the house, you exit through the other archway leading into a dining room that displays even more food than the kitchen, a whole buffet laid out for guests including potato salad, macaroni salad, various horderves, snack mix, a giant bowl of M&Ms, and more. A dream for a child, dinner and dessert all in one.

A few partygoers were scooping some food onto their plates, chatting about who knows what while you moved on to the next room which appeared to be the family room. The TV played some kind of horror film while absolutely no one watched it, the room almost empty aside from a couple in the corner making out.

A few pops and some celebratory yells are heard just out the back sliding door, drawing you in. The closer you got, you could see someone dressed as a scarecrow holding a bottle of champagne overflowing onto the deck. You were curious as to what everyone was celebrating but got cold feet when you reached for the handle, your hand glued to it but not putting any effort into actually sliding it open. Just as you decided you were going to chicken out and find a corner to hang out in instead, someone points at the door, outing you, causing your blood to run cold in embarrassment. When the scarecrow turns around, you can see that it's Donnie, face paint pulling her whole look together.

At the sight of you, her face lights up, hands thrown up in excitement as the champagne she’s holding sloshes over and further coats the deck. She doesn’t seem to mind, as she hands off the bottle to someone else and makes her way over to the door, sliding it open. Your cheeks begin to feel hot as people stare at the interaction, unwanted attention that you could’ve escaped had you been quicker.

“You made it!” She just about squeals, giving you a tight squeeze.

She had clearly had a few drinks, unafraid of any affection as she previously stated that she hated friendly affection of any kind, more prone to use her words to show appreciation. But you didn’t mind, Donnie was the one person you were comfortable with and your one friend so if she happened to show affection while under the influence, so be it. And maybe by her doing so, you wouldn’t appear to be such a freak to what seemed to be her friends. Maybe it would grant you acceptance into their circle.

“I made it.” You repeat with a polite smile.

“So we were just popping some champagne we found.” Donnie explains. “No rhyme or reason, we just found it inside and thought, hell lets just go at it.”

Nodding, you try to appear as enthusiastic as possible, covering up your anxiety to the best of your ability. People were still staring at you and it was proving difficult to just ignore it, holes practically being burned into you. A few of them you recognized as regulars at the bar but the rest were complete strangers. Either way, you were intimidated.

“You want some?” Donnie offers to which you begin shaking your head frantically.

“No, no, I’m okay! I already had something and I have to drive later anyway.” You explain.

Donnie nods understandingly before starting a dreadful introduction to the group. She points out Brian, Sam, and Wyatt, her sons who were fully grown, the oldest Brian, being around thirty. You didn’t catch who was the youngest or middle since Donnie was talking so fast. Then she reintroduces you to her husband, Nathan, who you had previously met at the supermarket though Donnie didn’t seem to remember in her current state. Then there were the owners of the house, Crystal and Gabriel, a very nice couple in their forties who made Halloween their night and everyone knew it. Apparently Thanksgiving was Donnie and Nathan’s holiday according to a little comment uttered by Crystal. There were what seemed to be a dozen more introductions though you couldn’t recall every single person. You only remember Donnie skimming by an introduction to Jett’s mom, Kristy who seemed like a lovely woman.

Thankfully, once everyone was acquainted with you, they seemed to move one rather quickly and continued on with their festivities. A fire pit sat in the middle of the deck, crackling away while a few individuals rested on the chairs circling it, warming themselves up. Some orange lights were wound around the railing accompanied by some fake cotton spiderwebs. Everyone held a drink in their hand except you and you were starting to regret not at least carrying your empty cup with you to occupy your awkward hands. Rookie mistake.

Your breathing becomes increasingly shallow with each passing second, panic settling in as you attempt to remember how to act like a person. You almost contemplate rushing off to the bathroom to hide but quickly scrap the idea, knowing Donnie may take notice. Instead, you stupidly shuffle your feet in place, trying to ground yourself with no luck.

In your inner turmoil, you can vaguely hear everyone else engaging in conversation about their lives or some silly story. Something you didn’t care to tune into as your inner monologue chants at you to run. Even with the one shot that you thought would relax you, you still feel your shoulders tensing and your jaw tightening anxiously. If anyone were to initiate small talk with you right now, you’d come off like a dunce, thoughts unable to form gracefully. Tonight was definitely a bad idea and you should’ve just stayed home where you knew your place.

Uncomfortably, you remain standing as everyone passes around the champagne. There was no way to dismiss yourself without seeming like you were rude and awkward. This was hell.

“Okay, elders!” You hear a familiar voice from around the corner, steps clunking up the deck stairs. “We got your drugs, now pay up.”

Jett emerges, a second pair of steps heard behind him. He’s dressed like a greaser, hair slicked back as he wears a white shirt tucked into his tight jeans.

“We got the goodies!” Eddie singsongs from behind him, dangling a plastic bag full of weed.

Eddie seems to be dressed as…himself? With a bit of smudged eyeliner. His torso is covered with his standard black leather jacket and he’s pretty much wearing what he wears in his day to day. Except when he dramatically flings his leather jacket at Jett, he sports a very revealing cut off shirt, all ripped and torn. And his fingernails are painted black.

“Jeez, Eddie! You’re gonna catch a cold, put that back on or go inside!” Donnie scolds.

“‘M fine.” He mutters, tossing the weed at Jett who just barely catches it as he drops Eddie’s jacket to the floor.

Donnie sighs, giving up on the argument seeing that Eddie was too stubborn to listen. Suddenly you feel yourself warm up, the chill October air no longer pinching at your cheeks as they grow hot again. Not out of embarrassment this time.

“Gon’ get ‘nother beer.” Eddie mumbles, stumbling toward you though he doesn’t realize it yet.

“That kid gives me a headache and he’s not even mine.” Donnie says.

“Hey!” Eddie whines, turning back toward the group mid stride. “You claimed me ‘s one ‘f your own, ‘member?” He points at her.

Several people chuckle at the scene while Donnie rolls her eyes and waves him off. He was clearly a lot more intoxicated than everyone else. His waddle toward the sliding door is evidence enough.

“Drink some water, boy.” Nathan advises.

“‘Rink some water.” Eddie mocks in a high pitch to himself while hiccuping before colliding into your shoulder. “Oh shit.”

Stumbling backwards, you stabilize yourself while his hands reach out and rest a bit too comfortably on top of your shoulders, heavy handed. Almost as if he were using you to keep himself up. When you dare to glance up, you’re met with heavy, glazed over eyes, bloodshot and decorated in smeared black liner. His lips paint a perfectly content smile as he sways back and forth, unbalanced.

“Bambi.” He cooes.

“Hi.” You whisper, startled like a mouse.

“Heyyy.” He draws out eyes becoming even heavier if possible.

“Um—“

“Munson, get off ‘er.” Jett laughs, shoving Eddie to the side. He manages to save himself from face planting into the deck, leaning himself against the side of the house.

“Should kick ‘yr ass.” Eddie mutters, glaring at Jett.

“No one wants you leanin’ on ‘em like that!” Jett defends. “Hey, Bambi.” He greets you.

At this, Eddie appears enraged, his face visibly going red as he shoots Jett a glare that no one would want to be on the receiving end of. Everyone else seemed to have moved on, paying no mind to Eddie’s sudden shift in mood.

“Hi, Jett.” You reply, a friendly grin gracing your lips.

With a grunt, Eddie pushes off the wall and storms inside, evidently pissed about something. Jett shares the same confused expression as you, shrugging while he starts asking how you are, if you’re enjoying the party, and if you’d seen the huge array of food they had out yet. You answer all of his questions to his satisfaction but mentally, you’re trying to track Eddie down. Trying to understand what set him off and made him leave with such irritation. Had this been the first week you met him, you would’ve dismissed it as his normal temper but now that you’d known him for almost two months and gotten to know how his emotions function, you knew better.

He had also clearly been under the influence which could mean nothing happened and his emotions were just sensitive. But you had a strong suspicion that there was a definite reason he abruptly got angry and rushed inside. No one else seemed to notice, aside from you and Jett. And he obviously paid no mind and didn’t intend on going after Eddie so maybe you were missing something. Or maybe everyone was also blinded by their intoxication and you were the only sound minded individual in the group right now.

“Oh and then—“

“I think I’m gonna head inside, it’s kinda cold out here.” You interrupt Jett’s tangent on his and Eddie’s journey down the road to collect the weed they had been sent to pick up.

“Oh well just take this.” He says, snatching up Eddie’s jacket off the ground and handing it to you.

You should’ve come up with a different excuse though to be fair, you didn’t think he’d hand you Eddie’s jacket. He was supposed to follow your lead and let you go inside. Wasn’t he concerned about Eddie too?

“T-thank you.” You clutch the jacket in your hand, draping it over your forearm.

“Yeah! So we were just walking—“

“Jett, I’m sorry I’m gonna run to the bathroom, okay?” You cut him off again.

You felt bad for seeming so uninterested in what he had to say but you couldn’t go much longer without knowing if Eddie had gotten himself into trouble. He was super out of it from what you could tell and it was eating away at you. It only made it worse that he was so angry and if you were the most sober one at the party, it would be in your hands if something happened to him and you knew he had run off.

“Okay—“

Before Jett can get another word in, you spin on your heel and rush inside, the music still blaring and everyone still screaming from the living room. The whole house felt like it was vibrating, your body buzzing as the bass dropped. That same couple still remained in the corner making out, their stamina impressing you.

Entering the kitchen, there’s no sight of Eddie, only a few guests topping off their drinks and toasting to themselves loudly. Realistically, you should take another shot to calm your nerves but this nightmare of an evening needed to be cut short and you would need to drive home as soon as you found him and returned him to the group.

Dreadfully walking yourself back into the living room where the heart of the party beats, you focus on each individual, attempting to spot the one dressed in all black with almost no shirt, tattoos, and a head full of brown curls. It proves to be more difficult since the lighting was so dim and the strobe lights left you seeing spots.

Everyone seems to be having the time of their life and here you are, worried sick about someone who never thinks twice about you. Even before he arrived you were having the worst time and wanted to go home immediately. Halloween would’ve been perfect if you stayed home where you couldn’t make a fool of yourself in front of people.

“Tequila!” A woman dressed as a slutty maid shouts, carrying a tray full of shots past you, only eliciting a gag from the back of your throat at the smell. “No tequila for you then.” She jokes, you shaking your head as you cover your nose.

It was obvious that Eddie wasn’t going to hit the dance floor after getting so infuriated. Unless that’s the first thing he would do in his state? You weren’t completely sure but you were almost certain that he wouldn’t. As a large group gathers around for shots, you manage to escape down a hallway where you imagine the bathroom might be. It’s completely dark, the only light coming from underneath a door on the left, probably the bathroom. At the end of the hall is what looks like a bedroom, the moonlight shining in from the blinds to just barely reveal a bed.

No one seemed to be in said bed, an empty room for people to crash in at the end of the night. Eddie could be in the bathroom but you’d have to be sure before leaving. With a shy knock on the door, struggle to hear any voice that might respond. Pressing your ear to the door, you try again, only to be met with the annoyed voice of a woman saying she’ll be out in a second and that she was fixing her lipstick.

Clearly not Eddie.

At this point you’ve covered the downstairs, no sign of the man so far. He would be good at hide and seek, you assume. Or maybe you’re just the blind. Retracing your steps back out into the living room, you collide with a few bodies, none of them paying any mind to the impact as they continue to dance, flailing around like rag dolls. You didn’t think it was possible for the room to get any more humid but you were proven wrong, sweat grazing your arms as you pass by and attempt to avoid touching anyone, failing miserably.

Your perfect ruby heels are starting to kill you, digging into your skin in all the wrong places, making it more difficult to walk with every step you take. You know for sure that come the morning, you’ll have blisters that will be bothering you for days. Reluctantly, you slide them off and scoop them up, dangling them by your fingers, Eddie’s jacket still hanging off your arm. You were becoming a walking closet.

Going upstairs didn’t seem like a great decision seeing as this wasn’t your house and you didn’t want to give Crystal and Gabriel the impression that you liked to snoop around. Although, if someone did see you, you could just vouch for yourself by saying you were looking for a bathroom and the downstairs one was taken already. So up you went, nervously glancing behind you. The coast seemed clear, not one person paying you any mind, the party still capturing their undivided attention.

Like magic, Eddie appears as you reach the top of the stairs, leaning against one of the doors as he weakly knocks, his forehead pressed to the wood. He was gorgeous, the perfect image of an 80’s rockstar gone 90’s. His back was nearly on display, shoulders all broad and waist lean. You could make out bat wings tattooed symmetrically on his shoulder blades and something along his ribs. The sight flustered you but you were here for one purpose and that was to retrieve him and get him back to Donnie so she or someone else could keep an eye on him.

“Dude, ‘urry up!” He whines into the door, pounding on it with more force. “Hafta piss ‘n maybe throw u—up.” He hiccups.

You want to giggle but quickly remember how miserable that feeling is, your stomach rejecting you and releasing its contents in protest of the alcohol you continue to bombard it with. You realize that no light pours out from underneath the door which meant the bathroom had to be available.

“Eddie, I don’t think anyone’s in there.” You offer, slowly walking up behind him.

“Pfft, it’s locked.” He scoffs, hitting his forehead against the wood with a thump.

When you reach your hand toward the handle and twist the door open, he gasps, nearly falling head first into the bathroom. It wasn’t thought through, opening a door with a grown man leaning his full weight onto it. Luckily, he catches himself, hands gripping the countertop as he sways.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” You hiss, voice tinged with regret.

“‘S okay.” He mumbles, pulling his zipper down.

“Oh!” Covering your eyes, you shut the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“Eddie, I am not standing in there with you while you pee!” You yell through the door.

“God.” He groans, a stream following. “Just—I know!”

“I’ll stand right here and make sure you don’t fall and hit your head, okay?” You bargain.

“Okay.”

After several seconds, you don’t hear any movement, worry kicking in once again. He couldn’t have hit his head, you would’ve heard it. What if he passed out but didn’t hit anything? It was pathetic, the way worry would grow inside you solely for him. Just when you begin a countdown to burst through the door to check on him, you can hear the unmistakable sound of him puking his guts out. Now you wonder if you should go in anyway and hold his hair back.

Dry heaving is heard through the door, the awful sound the only thing you can focus on. You can’t take it anymore. You can only hope he remembered to zip his pants back up in his drunken state. Opening the door, you reveal Eddie hunched over the toilet, his hair draped over his shoulders, clearly in his way. You rush to his side, dropping your heels and his jacket in the process and collecting his curls in your hands, pulling them back as he breathes heavily, drool hanging from his mouth. His eyes are wet and his hands are shaky as they grip the toilet seat. You feel as if he should be vomiting in your lap for payback for puking on him that one night.

“Ah shit.” He complains, shaking his head. “Round two, get o—out”. He gags.

Throw up was the embodiment of the most disgusting thing you could ever think of, smell and everything but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at this moment. Even with his clammy skin and pukey lips.

“It’s okay, just let it out.” You encourage him, hesitantly running a hand over his back, regretting doing so as you feel the muscles under his skin tense.

“Seriously, out.” He almost vomits, swallowing it down.

The action alone should be enough to have you jumping up and leaving but you stay.

“Eddie, just puke it all up. It’s fine. I’m gonna hold your hair.” You tell him.

He shudders, glancing over at you with his bloodshot eyes. It’s like he’s shooting daggers at you before his eyes soften involuntarily, irises becoming that caramel toned warmness you were becoming more and more familiar with. His pupils are dilated, huge planets in the middle of his eyes, clearly high and drunk though you still recognize the puppy dog-look he was giving you.

“Eddie, if you don’t puke right now—“

As if on command, he lunges forward and spews out the rest of his stomach. The sound makes you wince but you try to hide it as best as you can for his sake. It’s not his fault his body is reacting to the substances he put into his body. Maybe it is his fault since he put those substances into his body but regardless, you felt for him. Once it has to come out, it has to come out and there’s no going back.

“There you go.” You soothe, fingertips gently raking up and down his spine.

“Fuck.” He whispers into the bowl, spitting out a huge glob of saliva. It would repulse you if it were anyone else.

“It’s okay.” You whisper just as quietly.

Grabbing the toilet paper and folding it a few times, you rip it and hand it to him to clean himself up. You linger for a few seconds, waiting for him to grab it but he only continues to stare into the toilet bowl, hands braced on either side. Just when you’re about to speak up again, he goes in for a third round. You can’t help but feel bad for him even if the smell is nauseating you.

“You want some water?” You offer, standing up in preparation to go find him some.

“No, stay.” He blindly grabs the hem of your dress, wiping his mouth with his forearm.

He didn’t seem to have a follow up reason as to why he wanted you to stay but you do anyway. It was still a concern of yours that he stayed hydrated but you would tuck the thought aside momentarily to appease him.

“Okay, what do you need?”

Finally, he relaxes, his stomach seemingly empty now as he sits back against the wall. A sigh leaves his lips, relief slipping off of them as he gazes up at the ceiling. Shutting his eyes, he shows no indication of responding anytime soon, his pale face exhausted. Sitting down beside him was your best bet, that way if he did decide that he needed to spill his guts again, you were there to assist. And it was especially comforting to sit there just in case he passed out since he was at risk of hitting his head against something. He was obviously still out of it, sobriety seeping in very slowly, the room more than likely spinning from his perspective.

“Dizzy?” You ask.

“Mhm.” He hums, squeezing his eyes shut as if it would aid in steadying the room.

“You need water.”

“Mm.” He disagrees, shaking his head.

“Yes, it’ll help with the dizziness…probably.” You tell him, standing up once again.

This time he doesn’t protest, the message sinking in. You do, however, worry what could happen in the seconds that you’re gone. But, you have no other options right now.

“Stay here—Eddie, stay here. Do you hear me? Don’t move.” You try to drill into his brain.

All he offers is a weak nod, unable to even open his eyes. Satisfied enough with the response, you speed out of the bathroom and down the stairs into the kitchen. It was easy enough to grab a cup and fill it with water, dodging the wasted party guests that had gathered around the counter to play some kind of drinking game.

“Hey, where did you run off to!” Jett calls over to you.

Carefully, carrying the cup of water as not to spill, you turn around to meet his cheerful face. He had clearly gotten into that weed stash as his eyes were even more bloodshot than Eddie’s and his face was the most relaxed you’d ever seen it. And he was a pretty laid back guy so that was saying something.

“Oh, uh, Eddie’s not feeling good so I was just helping him out.” You explain.

Jett offers a suspicious squint, eyes glimmering in mischief as he reaches for a cupcake.

“What?” You ask genuinely.

He shakes his head, sticking his hands up in surrender which only makes you question the strange boy further. What was going on in that hyperactive mind of his?

“Nothin’” He smirks, orange icing coating his upper lip.

You didn’t have time for him to elaborate, if you could even get him to. You just needed to get back upstairs, you had already been gone for a few seconds too long, worry burying in your gut like a parasite.

“Okay, I have to get back to Eddie and make sure he hasn’t done something stupid.”

“Mmmhmm.” Jett giggles.

If only you had the time to interrogate him and inquire as to why he found that so funny. But you didn’t. Leaving him behind to laugh to himself, you can just barely make out one last word as you turn on your heel.

“Lovebirds.”

Your eyes grow ten times bigger as you scurry away. Did he think that’s what this was? That you were on your way to hook up with your boss? Did it look that way to everyone else? Jett was going to rat you out for something you weren’t even doing, you were convinced. No matter how nice of a guy Jett proved he was, he was higher than a kite and could start up a rumor like wildfire if he relayed his suspicion to anyone. It’s possible you were being paranoid but come the morning, if there were rumors floating around, you knew exactly who to blame.

Trying to shake the butterflies you felt taking your stomach hostage, you concentrate on getting the water upstairs without spilling a drop. It was evident that you had filled the cup a tad too high, giving you even more of a challenge. As you conquer the stairs, you anxiously peer around the corner into the bathroom, hoping and praying that Eddie had listened and didn’t move an inch. Otherwise, you were on another goosechase for a six foot tall metalhead for the second time that night and respectfully, your organs wouldn’t be able to handle another spurt of anxiety like that.

Much to your relief, Eddie sits against the wall just as you had left him, eyes still shut tight and head bowed. He doesn’t seem to hear your sock covered feet padding into the bathroom, not one muscle twitching.

“Eddie.” You call, holding the water in front of him.

No answer.

“Eddie?” You say, more panicked.

Nothing.

“Okay, this isn’t funny, Eddie. C’mon, drink the water.” You tell him, gripping his chin as you examine him.

His eyes seem to flutter beneath his eyelids, brows furrowing as his head resists your hand and leans toward gravity. You continue to hold him up, giving his cheek a small pat. A deep groan escapes him although he’s still practically sleeping.

“Eddie.” Shaking his shoulders, he only moves like a rag doll in your hold. “Eddie, wake up.”

“Mmm.” He grumbles, swatting your hands away.

“Okay, I gotta take you home.” You decide, placing your hands on your hips, attempting to determine just how you were going to even get him into your car.

You couldn’t leave him here, he was still wasted. You could leave him with Donnie and everyone to look after him but what was the point if you were going to go home anyway and he lived right next to you? There was no use in making them babysitters if there was a more logical solution.

“‘M fine.” He says, curling up into a ball.

“No, Eddie, get up. Get up.” You try to be firm with him but he remains on the floor, comfy as ever with his hands tucked beneath his head. “Shit.” You sigh.

It was time to call in some reinforcements.

–

“Jesus Christ, he’s really fucked up isn’t he?” Jett stares down at the figure of a sleeping Eddie on the bathroom floor, perfectly content.

“Yeah, can you guys just carry him to my car and I can figure out the rest once I get home?” You plead.

Jett and Nathan share a look of concern to which you raise your eyebrows in confusion, expecting an explanation. They glance once more at Eddie’s sleeping body and then back up to you, appearing as if that had said everything though you were still lost.

“How are you…going to carry him out of the car?” Nathan asks, his bushy gray eyebrows knit in thought.

In all fairness, you didn’t think far enough into the future. If it were only you, you assume you would be required to drag his body across the yard and onto the porch before fishing out his keys and lugging him up onto his couch before leaving some water next to him and dismissing yourself. The affair may take you over an hour considering Eddie was proving to be a stubborn drunk. But you’d surely manage if it had to be done.

“I dunno, I’ll work something out.” You tell him.

Nathan glances over to Jett once more, concerned expression only deepening as he peers back down at Eddie. Jett shrugs, surrendering the decision to both of you.

“How ‘bout this.” Nathan starts. “We’ll follow you home and help you get him situated–”

“God, ‘m up! ‘M up, okay!” Eddie takes the three of you by surprise as he rapidly pushes off the floor and begins standing on wobbly legs.

“You sure about that?” Jett teases while Eddie stabilizes himself against the sink.

“Fuck off.”

Eddie’s aggravated demeanor persists once again, a pathetic puppy dog pout at his lips while his eyes become overshadowed by eyebrows, a stern scowl forming. If it was meant to intimidate anyone, he was sadly mistaken. Instead, Jett snickers behind his hand, attempting to hide his grin.

“I’m kidding, I’m just kidding.” Jett continues to chuckle, avoiding Eddie’s harsh gaze.

“What is goin’ on here?” Donnie emerges from the stairs.

“Christ, ‘s go.” Eddie murmurs, rolling his eyes.

Donnie’s face contorts in confusion at his attitude, something that if it were directed towards you, you wouldn’t think twice about. It was no secret that his moodiness carried over even when he was intoxicated. But you suppose she has a motherly hold on him and should he act up, she wasn’t afraid to confront him. It didn’t matter how much taller or how grown of a man he was, she wouldn’t hesitate to pinch him by the ear and drag him off to give him a lesson in manners.

Obediently, Eddie backs down, his expression instantly relaxing. His scowl is replaced with a blank face, any negative thoughts seeming to fall right out of his head.

“You’re leavin’?” Donnie questions.

Rather than answering, Eddie shifts his gaze to you expectantly. Like you were suddenly his keeper. It was odd, going from being absolutely repulsive in his eyes when you’d first met him, to him essentially submitting to you so willingly. He was wasted but it was still something you fondly tucked into the back of your mind to remember later, like a little postcard for yourself.

“I, uh, yeah. I was just heading out and I thought…since we’re neighbors…” You try to elaborate, only feeling as if you were digging yourself into a deeper hole as you remember Jett’s comment from earlier.

Low and behold, the brief glance you offer Jett only confirms it, a huge smirk displayed on his face just for you. It was enough for the blood to rush into your cheeks, practically sizzling to the touch.

“You just got here.” Donnie complains.

Jett puffs out his cheeks, offering some kind of communication that has Donnie reeling back on her previous statement.

“It is late though and if he’s really not feeling good…” She reasons.

You weren’t stupid and you knew Jett was assuming the position of a wingman and somehow, he was able to convey that to Donnie in just one simple look. And she ran with it, much to your surprise. Eddie seemed to check out of any conversation, bags hanging underneath his eyes while they drooped in boredom, his tall frame leaning against the wall as he toyed with the chain attached to his jeans.

Externally, you were irked, irritation written all over your face, even a hint of disgust could be found within your features. But internally, you were having quite the opposite reaction. Those damn butterflies had started up again, whirling around in your stomach so intensely, you were beginning to think they were bees. Your heart pounded in your ears, the tips of them becoming embarrassingly red and hot. You didn’t know why, maybe it was the prospect of everyone else thinking you had some secret relationship going on or even a little fling and the fact that they seemed to be rooting for you. It ignited the tiniest bit of excitement in you, you weren’t going to lie to yourself. Even if there was truly nothing going on.

Within minutes, you had an entourage escorting you to your car, Nathan insisting that it was no issue if you’d rather him drive Eddie just in case he were to pass out again. Though you were grateful, you didn’t see the trouble in making him drive all the way out to your street only to turn around and go right back to the party. If Eddie passed out again, you’d splash some water on him and surely figure out a way to wake him. Besides, he had started to become more alert since stumbling down the stairs and making the walk down the steep driveway. Of course, you also required that he down some water before leaving, otherwise he could stay and let his friends have their fun and tease him about sleeping in front of the toilet, which he didn’t seem to like as he scrunched his face and grabbed the water from you.

Donnie had advised you to drive safely several times while Jett continued to poke fun at Eddie, only earning himself a sock to the shoulder. Jett may not feel it now but in the morning there would be a good chance he’d have a nice purple bruise.

At some point after you had stepped outside, a jacket was draped over your shivering shoulders. Eddie’s jacket. And seconds later, he walked ahead of you with his hands shoved in his pockets, no doubt trying to escape Jett’s teasing. It was in that moment, surrounded by people who seemed to just…care, that you began to feel wanted. While Donnie talked your ear off about keeping an eye out for deer, Nathan continuing to even offer to drive both of you home, assuring you that he didn’t mind in the slightest. Eddie resting his jacket over your shoulders, even in his current state, and Jett…well Jett was being Jett but he still contributed to the warm and fuzzy feelings you were experiencing.

It felt a lot like…family.

–

The cold glass soothes Eddie’s sweaty cheek, the surface fogging up with every breath as his finger taps away to a beat in his head on the center console. The slumped position he had been in for the past five minutes was sure to awaken a few aches and pains in his spine but he didn’t budge. The radio softly sounded through the car, some random pop song he could hardly make out. His eyes followed tree after tree, nearly causing him to go cross-eyed as he kept up with the little game he made up in his head, counting each tree. Sometimes he would get distracted by the pavement zooming by before continuing.

Not a word had been shared between you since the bathroom though it was an oddly comfortable silence. It didn’t feel like you had to speak or fill in the gaps like you usually would, desperately clinging to words that you didn’t have in order to appease the other person. The fact that Eddie was coming out of his drunken haze could have something to do with it but had it not been Eddie you were driving, you’re certain you would struggle to strike up a conversation as if it were required.

Glancing over at him, you can’t help but feel a small smile tug at your lips, his fingers drawing a smiley face into the fog he created with his breath. You’d never seen him so content but perhaps you shouldn’t look too much into it. A few beers and some weed would have that effect on anyone. It was just pleasant to see him so laid back, the stressors of his life set aside for another time. You could only hope he could appear the same way sober someday soon.

“Where’s your family?” Eddie suddenly mumbles, eyes still glued to the scenery outside.

The question is out of the blue and the last thing you would expect from him. Although he had taken somewhat of a liking to you, he’d never taken an interest in something so personal. And you offered him that same respect.

“What?” You ask, sneaking a glance at him, your hands squeezing the wheel.

His focus shifts from the window to you, his body turning inward as he leans his cheek against the headrest, waiting for your response. The way his lips pucker from his cheek squishing against the seat only makes your heart clench. His large awaiting eyes reflect the moon and you find it hard to change the subject when they appear so patient and attentive.

“Um, well, they’re back in…back home.” You answer simply.

“Where’s that?”

He looked the most inquisitive you’d seen him, body turned toward you, his attention not once wavering. Instead of the usual knit brows he often wore, his features remained softer and full of wonder. Lips parted and eyes twinkling, who were you to deny his efforts? Even if he was slightly under the influence. Worst case scenario, he doesn’t remember this conversation.

“California.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t know what kind of response you were expecting but for some reason, the one word was a bit too vague, self consciousness kicking in.

“What about yours?” You shift the spotlight over to him.

From what you can tell as you keep your focus on the road, his gaze drops while he collects his thoughts, his breathing going shaky for just a second before he regains his composure. A hum deep in his throat notifies you that he’s ready to begin speaking again.

“Uh, don’t really have one. Never really have. Or, uh, I just don’t remember them? Other than my uncle, Wayne. He’s back…” Eddie hesitates. “He’s in Indiana.”

“I’m sorry—I didn’t know…” You start to backtrack and although he was the one who initiated the conversation, maybe it was too bold of you to reverse the question.

“No, ‘s okay.” He assures you, shaking his head, his curls flattening against the seat.

“You miss him?”

The car is silent again, aside from the radio playing quietly. You fear you’ve said the wrong thing, struck some kind of a nerve that forced him to go mute. No longer wanting to engage in the topic. But when you peer over at him again briefly, he’s biting his lip, getting lost in his mind again before he decides on an answer.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. He visits when he can.” A sadness lurks beneath the surface of his monotone response, eyes growing shinier in the moonlight. And then he wipes the slate clean, face devoid of emotion once again as he seems to shake his previous thoughts from his head. “So what’s your deal? What made you come all the way out here?”

This is the part where you would shrug and offer no further insight into the corners of your mind that usually were kept isolated. But when his gaze softens from the passenger seat like that–like he wants to know, like he cares, you wanted to give him the key to your contaminated brain and let him poke around all he wanted. As long as he wanted.

“Well, uh, I love my family...” You start, voice timid. “But I was feeling super lost. And like I was living for everyone else. And when my dad passed months ago he left me his estate…left me everything…”

“I’m sorry.” He says, sympathy coating his words.

You nod, a silent thank you before continuing.

“So I split it up with my family…then moved away. Guess I wanted to…I dunno find myself?” You laugh, as if you’d just told a joke.

Rather than laugh along, Eddie studies you with intent. Like he’s searching for more, digging into your soul.

“Why’s that funny?” He asks.

“I just–I don’t know what I’m doing.” You laugh again.

“Well, neither do I.” He begins to chuckle. “I mean look at me.”

Progressively, you both start to laugh harder, glancing at each other and reveling in the failures that you both had endured up until this moment. It’s like you were slap happy, a snort threatening to escape you through your uncontrollable laughter.

“Ah, fuck.” Eddie exhales, a grin plastered to his face. “Bar is going to shit, my government hush money has run out–”

“Your what?” You question, amusement taking over your features.

“Nothing.”

Suddenly, he has no desire to converse, his lips shut in a tight line as he once again turns his attention to the window.

“Government hush money?” You repeat.

With a roll of his eyes and a deep breath, you can tell he contemplates carefully as he chooses his next words.

“Jesus Christ, I’m really not supposed to talk about it.” He breathes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But, fuck it I guess.” He drops his hand from his face.

Pulling into your driveway, the gravel crunches under the tires before you kill the engine, headlights leaving you in the darkness. Eddie has your full focus, your body turned toward him as you pull a knee up to your chest, resting your chin on top.

“You don’t have to.” You assure. “I can just forget you ever said anything–”

“Honestly, it’ll probably do me some good to get it off my chest.” He interrupts.

At his insistence, you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue. He fidgets with his rings nervously, pulling them off and putting them back on.

“You, uh, you have to swear to never talk about it again. To anyone.”

“Promise.” You whisper, sticking your pinky out.

A puzzled look crosses his face, looking from your pinky to you in uncertainty. It was becoming apparent that he was sobering up, laziness no longer taking a hold of his eyelids and words coherent.

“Pinky promise.” You smile.

“Pinky promise?” He still appears confused.

“Yeah, you never made a pinky promise before?”

A small smile forces the corners of his mouth up, eyes shining with entertainment as he stares at your pinky. Shaking his head, he rests his hands in his lap, almost bashfully. A contrast to his usual prickly tendencies and forward personality.

“Well, I take pinky promises very seriously. They can’t be broken. So I pinky promise, I won’t mention this ever again.” You stick your hand even further forward, awaiting his pinky.

“Yeah?” He asks with a lopsided grin. “How do I know you mean that?”

“It’s a pinky promise, Eddie.” You deadpan, as if he was supposed to know how eternally binding it was.

A few seconds pass, Eddie still looking from you to your pinky with round eyes, soft at the edges with something that resembles the innocence of a little boy. His inner child was sparkling, pouring from him like a forbidden fountain that only you had the honor of witnessing. When his pinky wraps around yours, his comically larger than yours, you can’t fight the way your heart flutters in response to the touch. His warmth encompassing yours, melting together like the sweetest chocolate.

Then, once your pinkies part, he speaks of a horrifying earthquake, striking his home town and wreaking havoc on the innocent lives once lived. He tells you of things that you would never in this lifetime believe, things that he was forced to believe within seconds, creatures that attacked him, putting him on his deathbed only to be revived and put in the hospital for weeks. Of the horrifying manhunt for him, how he was a wanted man for things he was never responsible for, conveniently at the peak of satanic panic. How he was blamed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, how the whole town pinned a murder on him. How there are things he could never even begin to explain like how Chrissy, the head cheerleader at his highschool had died right in front of him. And how she was the first girl he was actually interested in, only for her to die a horrific death before his eyes. He didn’t go into detail, though you didn’t need him to. You didn’t want him to re-live such trauma just to provide you further explanation.

Once all was said and done, once he was out of the hospital, he was arrested and sat in jail for a week or so, he couldn’t recall exactly how long. His uncle trying everything, doing everything he could to bail him out but he didn’t come from money so that proved to fail, especially since no one was on his side, even a majority of the police. He told you of Dustin and Lucas…of Max, Erika, Steve, Nancy, and Robin. The people that had always been on his side even when he was the only suspect for murder. The people he missed so dearly every day but could only see every so often when they could find time to visit. Which they did. He only wished he could go back home. If he did, it would only spark up another riot and it was against his agreement with the government to even step foot in the state of Indiana.

So when he was bailed out of jail, his friends all awaiting him just outside the station, it was bittersweet. He was relieved that he wouldn’t be stuck in that hell hole for the rest of his life like his dad but he was terrified of leaving everything he’d ever known. It was his dream to someday get out of that place, a place that he wouldn’t name which was most likely due to his agreement. But the second he was forced to leave, he didn’t know what was next for him, a terrifying concept for any smalltown boy at the fresh age of 20.

Wayne had intervened, making plans for Eddie to move in with his grandfather, Roy out in the middle of the mountains a few states away rather than being shipped somewhere where he had no connections, a setup for failure. Eddie told you about how he didn’t know his grandpa his entire life, didn’t even know he still had one until he went to live with him. But without any hesitation, Roy took him under his wing, stating that it's what his daughter, Eddie’s mother would’ve wanted him to do. The least he could do for a boy who only knew broken family and lost his beloved mother so young.

You learn that his grandfather had distanced himself due to Eddie’s dad and truthfully didn’t know of Eddie’s existence until Wayne made that phone call. The moment he found out he had a grandson, he welcomed him with open arms and put him to work at the bar, giving him a kind of security that Eddie had never been familiar with in his life. Grandpa Roy died last year of kidney failure, leaving Eddie everything and you could tell it was really taking a toll on him, the responsibility of the bar, the fear of losing it and disappointing his grandfather.

It seems that within the span of ten minutes, you learn Eddie’s life story. From the incident back in Indiana to how his dad created destruction in his life long before that and how he would teach Eddie how to commit petty theft and hotwire cars. He was on the route to becoming just like his dad before Wayne got involved, fighting like hell for legal custody of him. His dad refused time and time again although Eddie spent most nights and days at Wayne’s trailer anyway. Wayne didn’t want him to have any authority over Eddie, the man was a criminal and an addict that would leave poor young Eddie alone for days to fend for himself until he decided to come back. He didn’t want that life for Eddie.

Eventually, he won, the courts taking far too long to review the case but he was granted full custody and not long after, Eddie’s dad was arrested for grand theft auto. He still rots in jail to this day for several other crimes he committed once he got out the first time.

It was all laid out for you, Eddie’s entire upbringing. His whole life on display for you to judge if you felt so inclined to. You didn’t. You sat and you processed. Deciphering that Eddie is the way he is because of the way he had been treated his entire life. An outcast among the working class, growing up in poverty and being made fun of for things out of his control. Kids steering clear from him for the simple fact that he was his father’s son and that his name had already been tarnished before he was even born. It was becoming clear as to why Eddie was so emotionally withdrawn. How could he not be?

“Eddie I–” “If you say you’re sorry I’ll puke again.” He jokes.

It was something you found so endearing within him, his ability to remain playful even when addressing his trauma. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism. You could relate if it was.

“Let’s just, uh, call it a night. I think that’s enough about me. I don’t wanna talk about me anymore.” He shakes his head, exhausted but still displaying a playful smile.

“Okay. Yeah.” You agree, opening the door before he stops you with a raise of his hand.

“Would this…would this be a bad time to tell you that I’m ninety nine percent sure that I left my keys at the party?” He squeezes his eyes shut.

“Wow.” You sigh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “Look at how the tables have turned.” You grin, shoving his shoulder, eliciting a grunt from him.

“Gonna make me sleep on the porch with the bears?” He half jokes. He wouldn’t blame you.

“Only if you don’t puke on me like I did to you.”

Eddie can’t fight his grin, dimples deepening. He’s thankful that it’s too dark to make out the pink tinting his cheeks.

~end~

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