#they’ve got all sorts of subject matter too

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting upset at my best friend for calling me a hoarder in passing?

My (29NB) best friend (also 29NB) have been going through major crises lately at the same time—we will call them Sun. So, yesterday, they sent me a text, when we weee talking about how they haven’t wanted to be over at my house for a while, mostly bc they don’t like my partner…although the subject was in discussion bc my partner and I are splitting up, and I will be living alone again in a couple months. At some point in this discussion, they mentioned the more pressing matter that’s caused them not to be over as much is that they are very allergic to one of my cats—but only the one I just adopted a couple years ago, they’ve had no allergy issues w the other one and they love her very much, she is their niece.

However, at one point, they mentioned that a few years ago, when I was using drugs a lot more irresponsibly than usual—to the point where I got injured from falling down the stairs—they had been speaking to my other close friends. Which is appreciated, and I knew about this already obviously since there was an intervention that happened around that time…the way they mentioned this was upsetting. Specifically, they mentioned that “they approached [other friend of mine] about my drug use bc they thought I was becoming a hoarder” and that MAJORLY triggered me—specifically the hoarder comment. The woman who gave birth to me/raised me is a hoarder, which is a well known fact to just about anyone who is close to me irl, especially anyone who’s known her irl, and ESPECIALLY Sun, who worked as her caregiver for quite a while. Also being compared to/told I am just like my abusive egg donor is the thing that will hurt me the most, bc she is the most cruel, manipulative, abusive people I’ve ever had in my life.

So the thing is, my house is indeed very messy…I have too much junk around, and it’s very difficult for me physically to keep anything clean. It’s actually one of the reasons I’m separating from my partner, and as ashamed as I am about it, I understand. However, it’s not a hoarding disorder at all—I don’t hold onto anything I don’t need out of sentimentality, and if I could wave a magic wand and simply get rid of all the extra shit I don’t need/make everything nice and clean, I would. Unfortunately, I am very disabled with too many chronic pain/fatigue conditions, and actually cleaning the house/sorting through shit to get rid of takes immense physical effort. But whenever someone offers to help me, I jump at those opportunities! I take things to be donated all the time (if I’m able to sort through the stuff that needs to go) and it’s entire worlds different than my egg donor refusing to give up several bins of my baby clothes bc she can’t bear to part with them, despite them never seeing use in her possession ever again.

So, I responded to Sun’s mention of a past conversation thinking I’m a hoarder, with offense and saying it hurt me. We had been discussing just downsizing and how we will be going through my stuff as we pack for the new place, and had mentioned that I should make sure to get rid of certain clothing things if they have holes/are worn out/whatever, which to me, sounded like they think I have a hard time throwing clothes away even if they’re not even wearable anymore. With that and the hoarding accusation in mind, I told them I was very hurt by this. I made sure to be respectful and kind yet assertive, but after explaining how this was an unfair assumption/description of me, they got upset and said I should’ve asked for clarification before coming at them.

Now, do me, I wouldn’t have even considered they meant anything other than how I interpreted it, so it would never have even occurred to me to ask for clarification if I’m not even aware there’s a miscommunication. Apparently, the reason they mentioned getting rid of clothes that have been too worn out is an issue they have themselves, but this isn’t anything I was ever aware of, and once again never would’ve thought was referring to anyone but me. They also say they’re aware that it’s my physical difficulties that make cleaning physically painful for me…but honestly, that’s not anywhere near the same as having a hoarding disorder, which is indeed what they’d accused me of.

Of course, I know the both of us overreacted—me, being offended about being accused of being a hoarder (especially since my immense difficulty cleaning the house is part of why I’m separating from my partner and is therefore something I’m incredibly sensitive about right now) and them, being offended that I took what they said wrong and being upset over some things they didn’t actually intend w what they said…but I’m just not sure if maybe I AM in the wrong here, for expressing being hurt by being called a hoarder here, or if I really am making the entire thing a big deal out of nothing.

So, AITA for voicing my offense at being called a hoarder?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[softspeirs]

Daisies and Love Letters (6): John Egan/OC

A/N: I am so sorry it's taken me so long to figure out the next bit for these two. I've sort of got myself in a pickle because the only way to go chronologically is post-war, and I never intended for this series to go that far. So we'll see how it goes - I may have some ~interludes feat. more of their letters, but I think we're winding down on our time with John and Ellie.

Six. Goodbyes.

"Tell me you didn't ride your bicycle all the way here." Ellie's hands are on her hips as she stands outside the pub, a rag slung over one shoulder.

"Okay, I won't tell you." Bucky replies, grinning at her. He stops, dismounts, and is pressing a kiss to her cheek before she can reprimand him further. "Hi."

"Hello," she whispers against his jaw, "Come inside." She ushers him in and he settles at a barstool with a wince, trying his best to hide it. "How long before you have to be back?"

"Was hoping you'd let me stay if it gets too late." He admits, the most endearing blush she's ever seen staining the tips of his ears. "Haven't seen you in a few days."

Ellie busies herself with cleaning up the last few glasses from empty tables, the pub nearly empty except for a few locals.

Most of the boys have gone home.

It makes Ellie's hands tremble, because she knows, sooner rather than later, John is going to be one of them, and she hasn't figured out how she's going to handle that quite yet.

“I haven’t been able to get away…” she says with a sigh, setting the last of the clean glasses on the shelf behind the bar. “I’ve had accounts to settle now that everyone’s leaving, and…” she trails off, a melancholy mood settling over her.

Bucky clears his throat. An awkward silence fills the room, and he wishes he knew the right words to say to make her understand how he feels. He’s conflicted, to say the least. This isn’t a fling for him, but he feels silly admitting it, because how could he be so head over heels for a girl with whom he’s only shared a handful of days (and two nights — all innocent, but memorable nonetheless) with?

He can’t really explain to anyone that they’ve done this whole thing out of order, and yet she knows him better than just about anyone here besides Buck.

“We don’t have to talk about that now.” He offers a way out of the conversation, and she smiles at him softly, gratefully.

Her father, funnily enough, had been the one to broach the subject after he met Bucky for the first time, a quiet dinner after the pub had closed early to celebrate VE-Day.

Afterwards, cleaning up, he had said quietly. "I wouldn't hold it against you if you wanted to go, Eleanor."

She had stilled, her hands stuck in the soapy dishwater, her mind spinning. "What do you mean?"

Her father scoffs. "You know what I mean. I saw the way that Major of yours looked at you. He's going to ask you to marry him."

Somehow, it wasn't an outcome Ellie had even remotely considered. It felt too soon. It was too soon. They were clinging to this thing between them so desperately.

Ellie has been putting a small distance between her and John since that night. She can't bring herself to talk to him about it but she also can't really bring herself to stay away... after everything he's been though, Ellie can't stand the thought of hurting him. She doesn't want to.

She just-- she wants, and it's terrifying, no matter which outcome she pictures; the one where he asks her a question and she leaves everything she's ever known behind, or the one where he tells her it's been wonderful, and she's a great girl, but duty calls and he's got to go... they're both too scary to contemplate.

"You're quiet." His voice brings her out of her own head and back to the present. "You've been quiet a lot lately, actually." He ducks his head like he's afraid of saying this to her. Either that, or he's afraid of her response.

The wooden bar between them feels wider than ever.

"Suppose we talk about "it" now rather than later." Ellie says in a rush, hands twisting together in front of her.

"It." John repeats.

"Oh, please don't make this harder on me than it already is, I don't--"

He stands to try to stop her worrying, reaching across the bar to grab her hand. "Hey, stop that." He says, a soothing thumb rubbing across the back of her hand. "When have you ever been scared to talk to me about anything?" His words are clipped, hurt.

"Let's go upstairs. Dad is out." She says, breath leaving her in a sigh.

He dutifully follows her to the upstairs apartment. It's not much, just a place to do the business part of the pub and a place to stay when the walk home at the end of the night seems too long.

It's quiet, the clock on the mantle ticking away.

Bucky feels his heart pounding in his ears with each step. He feels like they're on the precipice of something. Either she's going to put him out of his misery, or she's going to break his heart.

She sits heavily on the sofa, and he sits on the opposite end. Their knees brush. He aches for a more intimate touch, but he wants to give her all the space she needs to think.

"You're going to go home soon." She says, blunt.

He blinks rapidly. "I don't-- nothing's set in stone." He frowns. "Is that what's been bothering you?"

"Yes!" She says, exasperated. "You haven't said anything at all. We've been living in a bubble since you got back, and I'm not sure I'm cut out for it, John."

He flinches, just barely. "Are you-- are you finished with me?"

She moves closer, takes his face in her hands. "I don't want to be finished with you, and that's what scares me." Her voice shakes. "I wish we would have met sooner. I wish you were never shot down. I wish so badly you could have come here and taken me out to dinner, or dancing, and that we could have more time."

"Ellie." His voice is hoarse, but she doesn't let him finish.

"I'm not sure I'm cut out for this, John. Not because I don't want you, but because I do, so badly. And when you go home, it's going to break my heart clean in half. And I'm terrified of that."

"So let me stay." His voice is low, husky. His hands cover hers, still on the sides of his face. His fingers curl into hers, holding her tight, the conviction in his words echoed by his firm touch. "Not just for one night. I'll stay here with you."

Ellie is shaking her head. "I won't take you away from your mother."

His eyes close, emotion getting the better of him. His jaw clenches. "So here we are, then." He drops his hands.

She does the same, but instead her hands find his. Her fingers run over his knuckles, still scarred and scabbed. His hands, that held her so gently and that penned some of the sweetest letters she's ever read.

"Dad thinks I should see America."

John's eyes fly open. "Does he?"

She shrugs. "I've always wanted to go. It's time my brother does a few shifts behind the bar anyway."

He stands abruptly, pacing on the rug in front of her. He stops, one hand running through his hair. "What are you saying?"

"Well I'm not certainly not saying anything if you're not asking--"

He drops, right there, right to his knees in front of her. This time it's he who cups her face, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I would, you know. I'd ask you right now if I thought you'd say yes."

She frowns. "How do you--"

"Come with me. Meet my parents, my sisters-- God help me." He mutters the last part, and she laughs, though her laugh is clogged by tears. "Come with me, and then we'll decide what to do. And if your answer is that you want to come right back here, then we'll deal with that together too."

Ellie closes the distance between them and kisses him so hard she's worried about his still-healing scrapes and bruises, but he matches her breath for breath.

"No goodbyes," he whispers when they break apart. "Not yet."

He has no idea how the logistics of any of this are going to work, but he'll figure that out later.

As long as he doesn't have to kiss her goodbye tonight, or even tomorrow... he'll figure it out later.

#softspeirs mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan x oc #john x ellie #this was never meant to be so angsty!!!!! #whoops #oc: ellie peters

[princessamericachavez]

In Lucy’s defense, it’s late, and she’s exhausted after her first three intensive weeks in UC school, and she’s had more than a couple margaritas. There is also the fact that Noah is one of the very very few classmates that hasn’t tried to hit on her, even if he did nickname her Hot Pants after the third class due to an incident that is never to be discussed again. 

It’s been a long while since Lucy’s had a friend like this. Not an almost-sibling, like Tamara, or a rookie like Aaron or Selina, or an older and cooler person to look up to like Angela or Nyla. Other than Nolan, who is twenty years her elder and currently too head over heels with his gorgeous fianceé to spend much time with her... it’s been years since Lucy has had a true and close friend. Not since Jackson. 

So when Noah leans in, across the tiny table at the shitty bar they’ve claimed as their own, and says “Everyone here is running from something, or someone. What’s your story, Hot Pants?” She gives in to the impulse (and the margaritas). 

“My TO. Well, my former TO.”

“Pain in the ass?”

“Yes,” she laughs. “But that’s not it.”

Noah arches his eyebrows and waits for her to continue. He’s a good listener like that. He reminds her of her lost friend so much...

“It’s just... Look, he’s a good person. He’s actually very sweet, deep down, once you get past all the tough guy act. We’ve actually gotten pretty close. That’s... that’s kinda the problem.”

Noah’s brow furrows and she knows what he’s thinking ever before he says: 

“He hitting on you.”

“No!” She jumps. “Well, maybe. Sort of. Not really. I don’t know, that’s the problem.”

Silence and a head tilt prompt her to continue, to say out loud the one thing she’s been terrified of admitting. 

“I might be in love with him.”

Which is a problem, because she has a boyfriend. Because he has a girlfriend. Because this could really mess everything up. 

“It’s... it’s not like I didn’t know. I mean, I kinda did. Deep down. But we went undercover a few weeks ago and things got...”

“Intimate?”

“Yes!”

Noah laughs. 

“That happens. You just gotta shake it off.”

Lucy shakes her head, frustrated. 

“It wasn’t just the physical thing. I mean, it was. We kissed once for practice and suddenly it was like... like all these things I’d been keeping inside of me wanted to burst out. And... and I think he felt it too. And then during the mission it was just... just so much. And he suddenly said it didn’t feel like pretend and all I could think about was ‘he knows’ and how I would lose him for good because there is no way he will cross that line. He’s too by-the-book for that. So I...”

“You ran.”

“He sort of encouraged me to come here. I guess he just thought putting some space and time between us would be better.”

The sadness she’s been carrying around weights heavy on her as she admits it out loud. She blinks back tears and curses the alcohol for this unforeseen vulnerability. She wants to be taken seriously here, not to play the broken-hearted girl in love with someone who will never love her back. 

“What’s his name?” Noah asks. 

“Bradford. Tim Bradford.”

I’m in love with Tim Bradford, she admits to herself. Fuck.

“Well, if he let you go, I assume he’s an idiot,” Noah nods, matter-of-factly. 

“He’s not. He really isn’t,” she jumps to Tim’s defense instinctually. 

She finally dares to look up, and finds Noah’s eyes, steady and honest and surprisingly kind for someone who can play-pretend to be the coldest and cruelest kind of man if the situation demands it. Right now, he’s just warm. She likes him. She likes having this kind of friend again. 

“Then, maybe... maybe he’ll get his act together and realize he’d be an idiot to let you go.”

Lucy laughs, and cleans a tear before it can roll down her cheek. 

“Yeah... in my dreams, maybe.”

“Dreams are all we’ve got, Hot Pants. Dreams, and margaritas.”

“Now you’re talking,” she smiles, thankful for the subject change. 

“I’ll get us another round,” Noah says. “And then, you can tell me the full story.”

“Oh, no... that really isn’t necessary.”

But Noah is already gone to get more drinks and as much as Lucy dreads bearing herself open with him, she knows that no harm will come from it. There’s a different kinda trust built between people who lie for a living, when they can only be sincere with each other. And there is absolutely no way that this will ever get to Tim, anyway. So, what’s the harm in sharing?

#chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #the rookie #the rookie spoilers #sofia's nonsense #IDEK GUYS

[gib-vinegar]

Yandere! Klarion The Witch Boy Headcanons (Young Justice)

A/N: Feel free to skip this if the subject matter makes you uncomfy! 0u0 OOC warning (?) as well. Picture edited by me.

P.S, I do not condone this behavior in real life.

• Klarion is delusional and wants all of your time and attention when he’s around. He found the whole idea of soulmates and all that to be a waste of time until he saw you. He just felt something *click* in his head as he stared at you, this new, raw feeling threatening to overwhelm his senses he was so sure it couldn’t be anything else other than this gushy emotion mortals fought and died for. Love. Such a sweet feeling, and we know he’s got a sweet tooth. ♡  • Whatever personality or occupation you have won’t matter to him. Hero, Villain or just a regular civilian he adores you all the same, and he’s 100 percent sure that when you meet him you’ll feel the same way he does! You’re soulmates after all, duh! • Any sort of positive affirmation, be it big or small he’ll take it as confirmation that you like him back. Even if you act like you hate his guts his mind will spin it as you playfully teasing him and if anyone besides you tries to contradict his mindset, well… he’s been looking for a new chew toy for his dear Teekl… • Speaking of which... helping protect Teekl in some way will endear you to him quicker, but it’s not the only way to catch his attention. Nonetheless the feline will end up becoming a platonic yandere for you down the line in Klarion’s obsession.

• Will absolutely stalk you before and after officially “meeting” you but there’s a few times when he almost got caught by accidentally being too loud or something of the sort. Other times he gets Teekl to follow you into certain places and report back to him later if it’s an area that’s safe for her to be in on her own.

• If you ever notice any of your friends acting strangely and giving you a dazed or lovesick expression, it’s Klarion in disguise– but he never stays like that around you too long, he was just curious on how you act with him vs your friends, if you show affection to him while he’s like that he’ll be over the moon! …until he remembers what form he’s in and promptly excuses himself to go throw a tantrum somewhere far away from your location.

• Vandal picks up on the witch boy’s fondness for you early, but not the intensity of it in the beginning. He’s seen Klarion go through phases over the countless millennia they’ve worked together where he would fixate for a while on a particular subject or person before it died off one way or another. He’ll get over it…

• Except he didn’t, it was different this time, stronger than before and now it’s getting to the point where it could be a liability to The Light’s plans if you were involved in any of them. If you end up getting hurt because of something they orchestrated, Klarion will flip out and go after whoever was involved with said plan and might even leave the group entirely. So it’s best for the other members’ safety to keep away from his beloved (Y/n) in this regard.

• Klarion hates the people you’re close to with a burning passion. Why would you waste your time with those stupid, weak mortals when you could do whatever you want on Earth with him? Why even stop at Earth, any planet is on the table, he doesn’t mind! No limitations, no consequences. Anyone who tries to keep you two apart will suffer a grisly fate. (Pun intended)

• Confession…? Well it’s less of a confession and more like a “Kay you’re coming with me from now on my dear! :D We’re gonna have so much fun–” while he’s basically kidnapping you. You’d most likely already know his feelings for you by now with how affectionate he acts towards you. If you don’t realize how much danger you are in by now, it will quickly become evident when he slaughters anyone who might have tried to stop him from taking you. • If it turns out that you do feel the same way however, a few things would be different from your other choice of refusing him. First off, there won’t be any punishments since you won’t be trying to leave. Hooray! You will also have a chance to keep your family and friends safe from him too in this case since he’ll be more open to suggestions on places you go to and people possibly being spared, making it easier to keep them out of his sight. But no matter what he’s gonna bring you everywhere and be practically glued at the hip so get comfy.

• Klarion’s not one for sticking in one place for too long unless he needs to, so most of the time you’re gonna be tagging along with him as he wreaks havoc or is on a mission. He brings you into battles and shows off so you can see that he can keep you safe and happy (Press X to doubt) and that you need him. • If you’re hoping for Teekl to show any sympathy to your plight, you’re dead wrong. In fact, by this time she’s gotten attached enough to you to be a platonic yandere now. She’ll be helping her master keep an eye on you and protect you but if you try to sneak away when the Chaos Lord is napping or locked in battle she’ll stop you from leaving and snitch on you to Klarion about your recent attempt to hightail it out of there. Unless of course, you start giving her some head scritches and belly rubs in exchange for keeping quiet. • Punishments happen if you try to make him see through the delusions, which will disrupt his fantasy of you loving him back if you push him hard enough, usually resulting in a rage filled tantrum at the continued insistence of letting you go. “NO! I’m never letting you go so stop saying it! You’re MINE. Mine mine mine mine mine--” • So you think you don’t need him huh? You wanna leave? Fine! He’ll just dump you in a situation where you’ll be in constant peril until you plead with him to come back and help you. “See? You do need me after all.” Klarion would scoff and heal whatever physical wounds you may have but you would most likely be traumatized after this whole ordeal. Then he goes back to doting on you as if he forgot what just happened. • If you end up escaping without Klarion or Teekl noticing until it’s too late, Klarion’s gonna start freaking out about you being kidnapped or whatever while Teekl is facepalming in the background but worried for your safety. Klarion will start to go everywhere and demand you be brought back to him RIGHT NOW as he’s causing mass chaos anywhere he can until he gets you returned to him, The Light’s plans be damned. The rest of The Light might even help him by being on the lookout for you since he’s gonna start thinking that they are involved in your disappearance if they don’t. The longer you’re gone, the more the body count is going to rise. Unless Dr. Fate is there to have a chance to stop him, it will be a struggle for any other heroes trying to fix things. Maybe come back soon if you can’t handle all the lives being lost in your absence? • You might have to lie and think of a scapegoat if you do come back to him of your own volition because he’s gonna want somebody to torture for taking you away for so long. If you get captured by someone he knows and they explain what happened to him then he’s just gonna punish you again until you stop. trying. to. leave!! • He’ll make you immortal whether you want to be or not, you don’t have a choice in the matter. Nothing or nobody else is allowed to have you– not even death itself. ♡

#gibby writes #klarion #klarion bleak #klarion the witch boy #klarion the witchboy #teekl #young justice #dc #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #yandere #tw yandere #klarion x reader #klarion x y/n #klarion x you #klarion the witch boy x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere dc

[urfavstargirl1]

Show Me What You've Got - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part 3 to the series Chemistry, Part 2

stranger things masterlist | Spotify playlist link

summary: It's Y/N and Eddie's last night working on their assignment. After a bad day at school, the two end up studying at Eddie's place. By the end of the night, the two finish their assignment, guitar playing from Y/N and Eddie ensue, heart's are opened, and Y/N's gives Eddie a surprise goodbye.

cw: yearning, angst, fluff, era-appropriate racism/sexism (optional latina!reader insert w/ minor references), hurt/comfort, shy/nerdy!reader, pre-ST4, cocky!Eddie, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, swearing

a/n: theres many so here goes:

1. This was meant to be a filler chapter but ended up being the longest one I've ever written lmao so buckle up because a lot happens 2. I realize it's highly improbable a student like Eddie and a straight A student like Y/N would be in the same class or in a chemistry class for their senior year, but for the sake of this story, let’s ~pretend~. 3. Also for any of my astrology baddies, I'm big time convinced Eddie has a pisces placement. I’m thinking maybe sagittarius sun pisces moon and Y/N is very much influenced by me and my virgo moon so i feel like this chapter (this whole series) really exemplifies that opposition/synastry lol. 4. get ready for hella yearning, teasing, flirting, hurt, comfort, and just all the cuteness

On the way home from Y/N’s house, Eddie’s mind and heart are racing. Instead of focusing on the road before him, his mind wanders to the nervous look on Y/N’s face or the adorable quiver in her lip.

When he gets to the trailer, the lights are off and his uncle’s car is nowhere to be seen. He unlocks the door and enters the dark space. He flicks on the light and trudges to his room where he flops on the bed and looks up at the ceiling fan. 

He folds his hands behind his head and sighs. “Goddamn it Y/N, what are you doing to me,” he wonders aloud. 

He turns over to his bedside table and rummages through the drawer. He pulls out one of his premade joints and a lighter. He props himself up on his elbows and lights it. He takes a puff and draws a long inhale. He exhales a cloud of smoke and a tension in his shoulders dissipates. His heart, however, is still pounding loudly in his chest from the moment that just transpired: he had asked Y/N, sweet, innocent, beautiful Y/N, if she’d ever had sex before.

 Why did he even ask her that? Well, in the moment, it felt like the right thing to say, but now, he worries he might’ve taken things too far.

It’s not like it’s his responsibility to help her explore something as personal as her sensuality, but she just looked so lost and confused. Like she was completely in the dark and the only person who had ever shone a light on the subject was him. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if sex was another thing on the list of forbidden fruits her parents ordained on her, but he at least expected her to have some sort of girlish curiosity about it, not just avoid the subject completely.

Regardless, it was obvious she had never had sex before, but despite the fact that she was clearly embarrassed about it, she never denied it. He knows for a fact that anybody else would have and made up some story to pretend like they had, but she didn’t and that was refreshing to him.

By the end of the night, he comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t regret what happened, but he knows that he needs to be careful. He doesn’t want Y/N to think he’s more of a freak than he already is. They’ve only known each other for a matter of days and he’s already managed to screw things up: that’s a record. 

In a way, he’s grateful they won’t meet up tomorrow. The afforded time and space might grant him a shred of dignity back. And yet, he feels like it’ll be too long. As he takes another puff of his joint, he begins to count down the far too many hours before he’ll see her again. 

—- 

The next morning, Y/N wakes up with very little recollection of the night before.

Like any other life altering moment, it kept her up into the night just replaying it, thinking about it, and overthinking about it.

But in the morning, she’s not fully awake enough to remember it just yet. As she opens the blinds to her room and adjusts to the day ahead, she’s reminded of the to-do list full of assignments, activities, and tasks that’ll keep her brain occupied for a while. 

The thought of Eddie finally comes to her as she stands face to face with her closet. She forgot to prepare an outfit the night before and is tasked with choosing one now. It should be a simple enough task. There’s a few outfit combinations in her wardrobe that are tried and true, but a certain pesky thought stops her in her tracks before she can even select one.

What would Eddie think?

Y/N wonders what Eddie would think of any of the outfit choices she has. Would he think this outfit is too dorky? Would he think that outfit is cool? Would he think she looked pretty in whatever it is that she wears? 

Y/N shakes her head as if she could physically remove the thought that way. 

She convinces herself that it doesn’t even matter how she looks because she won’t even be spending time with him after school today. But then she realizes that it doesn’t mean she won’t see him at all.

During class, she’ll have to tell him that they’ll have to meet at 4:30 tomorrow instead because she has an appointment with her guidance counselor after school. 

It’ll only be a five minute conversation, so why base a whole outfit for the day based on a brief interaction, especially with a boy she has no business wanting to impress? 

And yet, she finds herself wanting to look good, for him. 

The realization makes her want to crawl out of her skin. She’s never been so boy crazy as to want to look good for a boy before. She sees that sort of hypnosis in her close friends who have boyfriends. From that moment forward, Y/N promised herself she wouldn’t succumb to that madness, yet here she is now. 

It’s silly to be worrying about this. She has college applications and exams and other, far more important, things to be worrying about. And besides, what's the point of a high school relationship? Not that she’s even imagining a relationship with Eddie, but while she’s on the subject, she reminds herself that they’re futile. 

This time next year, she’ll be away at college, many many miles away from Hawkins. And she can’t make permanent plans based on temporary people, so it’s futile to keep incorporating Eddie into her thoughts like this.

Eddie is just a boy that she has to work on an assignment with. It’s fun working with him, sure, but that’s all he is. Nothing more and nothing less… Right?

—

By the time Thursday rolls around Eddie’s been eagerly anticipating seeing Y/N again. 

If he had a quarter for every glance he stole at Y/N when he thought she wasn’t looking, he could probably buy another guitar by now. 

It’s not enough just to be able to see her in class, looking at her whenever she pushes up her glasses with her index finger or raises her hand and gives the correct answer to whatever problem the teacher presents them with. 

And it's definitely not enough to sneak glances of her at lunch where her friend group sits on the other side of the cafeteria. 

“Eddie,” Dustin waves a hand in his face.

“What?” Eddie snaps out of his daze.

“We’re voting on when to have the next campaign.” Dustin says with frustration.

“Yeah, yeah I’m down for whatever,” Eddie aloofly responds and shoos Dustin away.

Sometimes, if there’s not too many students walking past Y/N and her group of friends, Eddie will see her talking and laughing. And sometimes, he’ll blame it on his imagination, that when he sees Y/N crane her neck a few times, it’s because she too is searching for him across the sea of students. 

As he sees her laugh and smile, he wonders what she talks about. He also wonders what her friends are like. And he wishes he didn’t care, but a small part of him that he tries to bury wonders what they think of him. What would they think of him and Y/N spending so much time together? 

For the rest of the day, thoughts of Y/N consume Eddie’s head, and by the time school lets out, his blood is pumping rapidly in anticipation. 

Eddie lingers a bit with some of the Hellfire boys, but at 4:25 makes sure to promptly make his way to wait for Y/N by the counselor’s office. 

He almost wanted to bring her something. He thought about it a lot and considered bringing her a snack but he doesn’t know what her favorite candy or soda is. 

He also thought about bringing her some wildflowers from the field by the parking lot, but that would be too much. 

He even thought about bringing her one of his guitar picks, but worried she might think it was too weird or personal, or worse, not even care. 

Maybe it’s too soon to be doing any of those things, but he just wants to do something special for Y/N and make up for the weirdness of Tuesday night. 

He decides that maybe the best way to make it up to her would be to be on his best behavior and try his best to finish their assignment on a good note today.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t catch Y/N on quite a good note that afternoon. 

As he excitedly waits for her by the counselors office, he hopes she’ll appreciate his punctuality, but it proves pointless when it’s 4:35 and she’s still not there. 

He looks down the hall and checks the other side but it’s empty. He checks his watch again and frowns. Why is she taking so long? Did he somehow miss her?

Suddenly, the sound of a doorknob turning catches his attention and he sees Y/N sluggishly exiting the door of the guidance counselors office.

“Yeah, you too,” Y/N weakly mumbles over her shoulder before turning her head forward. 

She comes out in a daze, not even seeing Eddie and his wild mane of hair as she walks out the door like a zombie. 

“Y/N,” he wonders aloud in confusion. She walks slowly with her head hung low and doesn’t stop at the sound of his voice.

“Y/N wait up,” Eddie calls after her but she’s too lost in thought to hear. Eddie jogs to catch up to her and plants his feet in front of her. 

He sees a deep scowl on her face and teeth gnawing on her bottom lip. “Y/N are you okay?”

Y/N stops in her tracks and looks up at him, freed from her spiraling thoughts. She breathes deeply and holds herself steady. 

“Is something wrong?”

Y/N shakes her head and looks away. Eddie says her name in an unconvincing way. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks and Y/N looks up. She doesn’t say a word with her lips, but her eyes say it all.

Y/N’s chewing on her bottom lip as she contemplates what she should say or do. None of this concerns him and he probably wouldn’t care anyway. This is her problem and her problem alone to deal with.

“You know you can tell me right?” Eddie says reassuringly as he gently places his hand on her shoulder. Y/N slowly looks from his slender fingers gently gripping on the fabric of her shirt to his leather clad arm to the tattoos peeking out from his collar to the pale skin of his neck, the strong set of his jaw, the warmth of his lips, and the sincerity of his big brown eyes.

“I know we haven’t known each other long, but whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Y/N locks eyes with Eddie and she looks back and forth between his irises. A curtain of stone cold blankness crosses her face. She can’t let Eddie see her like this. It’s embarrassing enough what he’s learned about her, but to see her so weak and emotional like this is the last straw.

“Y/N, I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but you don’t have to deal with this alone, you know? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Y/N lightly gasps under her breath. Can he hear her thoughts? How does he know what she’s feeling, without her even having to say a word? If she weren’t so self-conscious about her composure, she could just cry at his words. 

She doesn’t want to drag this moment out even more than it already has been, so she tries to give him enough of an explanation that he won’t ask questions and they can just move on from this unspeakably uncomfortable and embarrassing moment.

Y/N shakes her head. “It’s nothing. I just had to speak with the counselor and–” she cuts herself off.

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first. He waits for Y/N to continue her sentence, but when she doesn’t, he asks, “Did something happen in there?”

Y/N hesitates, contemplating if she should even say it out loud, let alone to Eddie. The boy is starting to get too close for comfort.

She looks at him and his big brown eyes and feels her chest tighten. The way he looks at her is unlike the way any boy has ever looked at her. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze that she herself can’t even reciprocate. 

Normally, she would just keep something like this to herself, or better yet, pretend like it didn’t even happen, but the concern in his face and worry in his eyes begins to make her feel differently. 

Eddie removes his hand from her shoulder and lets it hang by his side, leaving her feeling cold. “I know you probably think I won’t understand, but… but I can try.” 

Y/N shakes her head. “It’s not that I think you wouldn’t understand Eddie,” Y/N responds, struggling but using every ounce of willpower in her body to maintain eye contact. “In fact, if I think about it, you might be the only one who would understand. I just… I… I don’t know. It feels weird to talk about.”

Eddie exhales and bites his lip as he looks away for a second before looking at Y/N. “Well, can you at least tell me how bad it was?”

“It was kind of bad.”

Eddie frowns. “Were you… hurt, in any way?”

“No, I didn’t get hurt,” Y/N exhales and the right corner of her lip turns up slightly, feeling somewhat relieved at having gotten a fraction of the most discouraging experience she’s ever had off her chest, even if it's to Eddie Munson.

Eddie exhales and a small smile slowly creeps onto his own face. “Good. I guess this means I don’t need to go around beating anybody up for you then, right?”

Y/N looks down and giggles. Eddie beams at her, feeling victorious at having brought a smile to her face.

“No. Not that I even believe violence is the answer, but no. And no offense, but you seem like your bark is much worse than your bite.” Y/N jokes as she starts walking. Eddie follows suit and the two make their way out of the building.

“Believe me, the Hellfire boys and I can do some real damage.”

“Yeah, like I’m entrusting a bunch of nerds to do my fighting. What’s a few matching t-shirts and dice gonna do?”

“Wow, so that’s how it is, huh? And calling us a bunch of nerds as if you yourself aren’t one,” Eddie teases and pinches Y/N’s cheek. Y/N nods with a small smirk and blush tinting her cheeks.

“You wound me, Y/N,” Eddie says and it comes off far more seductively in Y/N’s ears than the sarcasm Eddie likely intended.

When Y/N and Eddie make their way over to his van, Eddie walks Y/N to the passenger side and opens the door for her. Y/N raises a leg up to step into the van, then hesitates and brings it back down. She looks inside the van then back at Eddie who has one hand on the outside door handle and the other pressed flat against the back door. 

Y/N turns around and leans against the car. She exhales and shyly says Eddie’s name. The sound is sweeter than any song Eddie’s ever heard.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks gently. Their corner of the parking lot is empty, with the after school rush having died down which is a privacy Y/N welcomes. 

Seeing Y/N so guarded and unlike herself elicits an inexplicable need in Eddie to protect her. To take care of her. She’s strong on her own, but he wants her to know that she doesn’t always have to be. That she can be weak with him.  

“What happened back there,” Y/N says and jerks her head in the direction of the school building, “was because of something the counselor said to me.”

Eddie looks at her and doesn’t see a sense of fear in her face anymore. Despite this, he still wishes he could touch her. He wants to run his fingers along her arm or hold her in an embrace to comfort her, but he doesn’t want to be too forward or any more forward than he already has been. 

“What did she say?” He tilts his head and looks at her intensely.

“Something…weird… I just don’t understand.” Y/N shakes her head, trying to withstand the intensity of his gaze.

“What is it you don’t understand?”

“Well, she was weird about my college and major choice. I mean, the reason I even went to the guidance counselor today was to review my college application essays with her but we didn’t even get to do that. I sat down and handed them to her and before she even took a look at them, she asked where I was applying to and what I was majoring in. So I told her, you know, my dream school is the University of Chicago and I’m applying to their civil engineering program. I’ve wanted to go there for as long as I can remember.”

Y/N takes a deep breath in and out. Then, in a frustrated manner she rapidly and irritatedly explains the rest of her guidance counselor visit, “And it’s like I know what I like and what I’m good at and where I want to go and how I’m going to get there. All I needed was a second opinion on my essays. But she couldn’t even give me that. As soon as I told her my plan, she said I should set my sights on something a bit more realistic. But what do I need to be realistic about? I didn’t work my ass off to be ranked number three in our class, behind Randy and Lisa, do a million extracurriculars, and try to have stellar essays to be realstic.”

“Wow, she said that to you?”

“Yeah, and that’s not even the worst part. Then she goes on to say that she thinks I should look into the local community college or a state school here in Indiana because a person like me would be lucky to even get into one of those schools, let alone the University of Chicago.”

“A person like you? What does that even mean?” Eddie asks in disgust.

“I don’t know! But she said she wouldn’t even look over my application until I decided to apply to a state school and change my major to something a little bit easier and less intimidating.” 

“What? That’s fucking bullshit,” Eddie huffs angrily and slaps his hand against the car door several inches away from where Y/N’s leaning. The noise and proximity make her jump

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Eddie says as he lightly rubs his hand up and down her arm. “Anyway, what else did she say?” 

“That was it,” Y/N says and Eddie nods. “I just feel so stupid, you know? I mean, next time I’ll just ask my English teacher to look over my essays.”

“Y/N,” Eddie asks, daring to include the phrase, “are you serious?”.

“What?”

“What the counselor said to you was complete and utter bullshit, you have to know that.”

Y/N shrugs while pressing her lips together and holding her breath. If she doesn’t think about it too much, then maybe the tears will go away. 

“She’s wrong about you. You shouldn’t listen to the indoctrination crap she probably gives every other person in this school. You’re meant for more than Hawkins. And you’ll be a badass at engineering, I guarantee it.”

Y/N’s spirit lifts at Eddie’s words, but not as much as it should have. She smiles, but it fades before she whispers in a hurt voice, “But then why would she say that?”

“Because she’s a fucking idiot! An idiot who can’t see that you’re one of the smartest students in this school, hell this town.”

“But Eddie, she’s the guidance counselor.”

“It doesn’t make her right.” He spits.

“What? Why not?” Y/N’s voice cracks as she clutches the door for balance. If she can’t trust the elders in her life, then who can she trust?

“Look Y/N, not every adult in the world is smart or right. In fact, a lot of them are the opposite. Just look at the president, he’s both.” Eddie sneers.

Y/N wrinkles her eyebrows. 

“And they don’t always have your best interest at heart either. Sometimes you have to just take what they say with a grain of salt.”

Y/N nods, eyebrows still furrowed as she makes sense of her words, “I never thought of it like that.”

“Well, you get let down enough times and you start learning the rules of this little thing called life,” Eddie smiles.

“Eddie,” Y/N responds with concern, looking at his bangs lightly blowing in the wind.

“Don’t worry about me, Y/N. Just promise that you won’t listen to what she says.”

“I can, it’s just… How could she say that to a student?”

“ Because she’s just doing her Hawkins High School job of forcing conformity onto you. But you don’t have to do that, you know.” Eddie bends down to follow her downcast line of sight till she looks him in the eye. “You don’t have to be who people want you to be.” 

Y/N scrunches her eyebrows. The realizations are too intense for her. For as long as she could remember, she did what others expected of her.

“You can’t let your guidance counselors, or your teachers, or even your parents continue to tell you who you are or who you should be, Y/N. Only you get to decide who that is.”

Y/N looks away and blinks rapidly as she begins to feel tears form in her eyes. It’s too much too fast. She can only handle so many life altering realizations delivered by none other than Eddie Munson.

She opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out. She looks up at Eddie. 

“Come here,” Eddie says as he rapidly wraps his arms around her and engulfs her in a hug. 

Y/N’s body is frozen in shock. She’s still processing the events of her guidance counselor’s visit and Eddie’s words, but the feeling of Eddie’s tightening arms around her and the tufts of his hair tickling the skin of her cheeks bring her back to reality.

Slowly, she slinks her arms around his middle and presses her cheek against his warm chest. She sniffles and pulls tighter. This kind of affection is foreign to her, but coming from Eddie, it’s more than welcome.

Eddie rests his chin atop her forehead and gently strokes the hair of her ponytail. She breathes him in. The scent of soap, cigarette smoke, and maybe even a bit of cologne fills her nostrils. He smells so good. Has a boy ever smelled this good before?

They hold each other like that for what feels like eternity but is only a few minutes. She almost doesn’t want to let go, but her body betrays her and she pulls away.

“Eddie,” she gently says with furrowed eyebrows.

Eddie looks at her and realizes he just made a big mistake. “I’m sorry, I thought it would help.”

“No, it’s not that. I just… can we get out of here,” Y/N gently asks. 

Eddie sighs in relief and smiles, “Let’s go.” 

When they climb in the car, Eddie looks at her and says, “If you want, you can listen to whatever radio station you like.”

Y/N meekly nods. It’s only car ride number three and he’s already defying his own rules for her. She knows how much it must mean for him to say that so she shyly thanks him and tunes in to her favorite station. 

“When we get to the diner we can get whatever you want and just forget about all the bullshit that is Hawkins High School. Sound good?” Eddie says as he starts the van and pulls out of the parking lot. “Actually,” Y/N responds, “I don’t really feel like going to the diner today.”

“Oh,” Eddie looks from the sides of his eyes, “Where do you want to go?”

“I kind of want to go somewhere quiet. I don’t really feel like being around a lot of people right now.”

Eddie looks at her again, not really sure what she’s asking for. “Did you have anywhere in mind?” 

Eddie’s already on the road, only a few minutes away from the diner, but he’d travel a hundred miles if it meant making Y/N happy.

“No, not really.”

“Uh, we could go back to my place, if that’s alright. My uncle has an early shift today so he should be gone by the time we get there.”

Y/N steps out of her emotions for a second and realizes the gravity of his invitation. She’s being invited to Eddie Munson’s home. She’ll be home alone, with a boy. Just her and Eddie. And Eddie’s room which might eventually enter the mix. Her and Eddie. Alone. In a room. His room. With his bed and-

“Does that sound okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah that’s perfect,” Y/N’s lips answer, betraying her anxious thoughts.

“Okay,” Eddie says as he looks at his fuel gauge, noticing its dangerously close level to empty. “We might have to stop at a gas station real quick. I’m not gonna have enough to make it all the way to my trailer.”

Trailer? Y/N didn’t know Eddie lived in a trailer. It’s not a bad thing, but she’s more surprised than anything to learn this about him. Although, it makes sense if it’s just him and his uncle. She imagines how a house could get too big and too lonely that way.

“Sure thing,” Y/N nods. Somehow, the thought of stopping somewhere familiar like a gas station before delving into the unknown that is Eddie’s personal space feels slightly relieving to Y/N.

After a few minutes, Eddie pulls into the gas station and parks in front of the convenience store. 

“Eddie, I thought-”

“C’mon, let’s get some snacks,” Eddie says and gets out of the van before Y/N has a chance to say anything. 

Y/N follows suit, confused by his direction. She follows him and he opens the door for her to enter. A bell chimes and she walks through to find a landscape of chips, candies, and sodas galore. 

She slowly makes her way to the side and looks to Eddie to lead the way. He looks down at her and says a quick, “C’mon” before strolling to the candy aisle.

“What’s your favorite candy?” Eddie says as his eyes scan the rows of sweets.

“Um, I like Hershey’s chocolate, especially the kind with almonds,” Y/N says softly.

“Ok, Hershey’s chocolate with almonds for you and pop rocks for me,” Eddie reaches out and grabs one of each candy.

“Eddie, but-”

“C’mon, let’s go get some slurpees,” Eddie cheers as he makes his way over to the slurpee machine.

“Eddie,” Y/N calls after him. 

“Which one do you want, blue raspberry or cherry?”

“Um, I’m fine with just my candy,” Y/N shyly says.

“You sure,” Eddie cocks an eyebrow and Y/N nods. 

“If you say so,” he raises his hands in mock defense. 

He leans in and places a flat hand by his mouth and whispers, “But between you and me, if you want some later you can just have some of mine,” he winks.

Y/N blinks in confusion at Eddie. What has gotten into him?

“Think we’ll need anything else before we go?”

“Um, not really,” Y/N shrugs, not expecting him to go on this random massive snack scavenger hunt with her.

“Okay let’s hit the road then,” Eddie says as he skips over to checkout. Y/N and Eddie argue about him paying for her chocolate bar before ultimately just letting him do it.

They exit the store and get into the van. Eddie reparks the car at the closest available pump and gets out of the van. As he stands, waiting for the gas to pump into his van, Y/N sighs and looks out the window. 

A car with an unrecognizable boy driving and girl riding in the passenger seat, pull up to the pump in front of them. The boy says something to the girl before leaning over the console to give her a quick peck on the lips. He gets out of the car and starts pumping gas. The girl looks over and makes eye contact with Y/N. She smiles and Y/N instinctively gives her a shy smile back.

The girl turns to look in Eddie’s direction while Y/N looks in the direction of the girl's boyfriend. The two boys see each other and do a mutual head nod.

Y/N turns over her shoulder and sees Eddie leaned against the van. One arm is fully outstretched with a palm flat against the metal of the vehicle while the other is holding the pump. His brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes cast downward, but when he feels Y/N looking at him, his eyes flick upward and he smirks at her. 

Y/N’s eyes widen and cheeks redden as she rapidly swivels back in her seat. She breathes in through her nostrils, but it feels shallow.

She hears the clanking of the nozzle and shortly after, Eddie climbs back into the van.

“You ready,” he asks with a gleam in his eyes. Y/N sees the couple across from them getting ready to leave too.

“Um,” she looks over at him with a nervous smile, “Yeah.”

“Alright,” he cheerfully exclaims. He puts the gear into drive and backs out of the pumping area. Y/N resists the urge to admire how sinfully good looking he is when he drives or wonder if she and Eddie looked just as much like a couple to the boy and girl from the gas station as they did to her.

For the rest of the journey to Eddie’s trailer, Eddie makes mindless chatter, filling Y/N’s nervous silence beyond that of her favorite radio station. 

“Shh, I love this song,” Y/N interrupts Eddie and raises the volume as When Doves Cry by Prince comes on.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorite Prince songs.”

Eddie briefly looks over at her and asks incredulously, “Really?” 

“Yeah! Probably that and Purple Rain.”

“Hm,” Eddie nods contemplatively.

He hesitates a moment before adding “I know Prince is more of a pop star, but even I can admit, the man is an absolute beast on guitar,” Eddie comments in awe and Y/N giggles. 

“He is! Maybe you should learn how to play a Prince song. Expand your heavy metal horizons and what not.”

Eddie chuckles and looks over at Y/N. “Yeah, maybe I will.”

Y/N nods and notices they’re approaching the trailer park. Eddie drives past a few trailers before pulling up to his own. 

Y/N’s looks around, taking in her surroundings. The spaced out beige paneled trailers are different from the tightly packed red brick homes of her neighborhood. 

Here, many adults are outside hanging wet clothes to dry on a clothesline or sitting and having a beer with their loved ones. In her neighborhood, it’s usually children out on the streets playing or riding their bikes. It’s different, but comforting in the same way.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie greets as he opens the door to the trailer and lets Y/N walk through first. She takes a step in and Eddie follows behind her, turning on the yellow fluorescent light that hums above them. 

She takes in the sight of the kitchen, dining room and living room. The space isn’t big by any means, but it's somehow roomier than she thought it would be. 

She walks further and turns around, taking in the sight of dozens of trucker hats and coffee mugs on the walls and ceiling. 

She looks to the side and notes the worn brown couch in front of the tv with a collection of VHS tapes scattered nearby. She wonders which ones are Eddie’s favorites. What are his favorite movies or tv shows?

The clanking of dishes takes her out of her thoughts and she turns to see Eddie rummaging through the kitchen cupboards.

“Since you despise slurpees for some weird reason–”

“I don’t despise slurpees. They’re fine, just not really my treat of choice.”

“Whatever you say, smarty pants.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. 

“Could I interest you in a crisp refreshing coke,” he says in a jingle voice, “or maybe a cup of stale leftover coffee my uncle probably made before he left?”

Y/N follows Eddie’s voice to the kitchen. She approaches the counter and leans her arms against it. “Um, yes to the coke, no to the coffee.”  

She watches Eddie as he sets a glass on the counter, fills it with ice, and pours a can of Coca Cola over it. “One ice cold coke on the rocks,” Eddie proclaims as he slides the glass over the counter to Y/N as he looks into her eyes and wiggles his eyebrows.

Y/N blushes and looks down, but her hair is pulled back so there’s nothing to hide her embarrassed blush. 

“Thanks,” she gratefully mumbles before turning around and taking a seat at the table. As Eddie serves his own glass, Y/N starts taking out her papers and pencil. 

“Feeling better?” Eddie asks as he sits down across from her. She nods and meekly looks up from her paper to him. “Yeah, thanks for your help Eddie,” she says sweetly. 

Eddie nods. “Sure thing, smarty pants. Wanna get to work then?” Eddie asks as he pulls out his own papers.

“Oh, um, yeah.” Y/N responds, surprised at Eddie’s eagerness to actually focus on their assignment for once. 

She looks down at the papers scattered in front of her. They only have a few more questions to work on till they're done. She can get them done in no time. 

Except this time around, she finds herself more distracted than ever. She’s constantly looking around the trailer or getting lost in some thought completely unrelated to chemistry and 9 times out of 10 related to Eddie. 

At first, she lets her eyes wander to the mug collection she saw earlier and wonders if Eddie had chosen any. Does he even drink coffee? Or tea? He seems like someone who primarily lives on Jack and Coke and the thrill of a heavy metal song. Or maybe they all belong to his uncle. What is he like?

She tries to refocus her attention to the pencil in her hand and the paper in front of her, but the pencil feels too heavy and something inside her buzzes too loudly for her to properly focus on anything. 

She looks back up and sees Eddie deep in concentration. His slender, ring clad fingers wrapped around a pencil. She wonders where he got those rings from or why he even chose to wear them in the first place. They look good on him, no doubt, but it’s rather uncommon for guys to wear rings or things like that. Well, unless you’re Freddie Mercury or David Bowie that is. 

Her gaze trails up to his wild head of hair. His voluminous frizzy waves take over his head and shoulders. She wonders what he ever looked like with short hair. She also wonders what he would look like with his hair in a ponytail or even in braids. She imagines what it would feel like to run her fingers through his hair as she braided it. 

His hair is another one of those things that not many guys could pull off, but on Eddie, it’s totally and utterly attractive.

“Y/N,” Eddie says in a playfully scolding voice still looking down at his paper, “I know I’m looking sexy as hell today, but do you think we could maybe focus on the task at hand?” Eddie looks up at her with a shit eating grin and Y/N tenses up. 

“What? I’m not–I…I am focusing on the task at hand” Y/N scoffs, flustered and red-cheeked. 

“You sure about that sweetheart?” Eddie’s eyebrows raise as his gaze travels to Y/N’s blank paper.

Y/N’s breath gets caught in her throat as she looks down. “Y-yeah I am.”

“You don’t sound too sure,” Eddie replies, cockiness dripping with every word.

Y/N turns her head up and looks Eddie square in the eye, “Well, I am. So, one, tough shit if you don’t believe me, and two, for your information, you’re not even… sexy, so...”

“Oh, Y/N, you’re so cute when you curse.”

Y/N gasps and Eddie leans forward to seductively add, “Even more when you lie.”

“Eddie,” Y/N hisses, flames kissing every inch of her skin. “Stop distracting me so we can finish this assignment.”

“You seem distracted whether or not I say anything, smarty pants.”

“That’s… not true.” Y/N rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her watered down coke before pretending to focus on the question before her. 

She can feel her heart beating loudly in her chest. Can Eddie hear it too?

“Uh huh, sure,” Eddie says sarcastically before returning to his own work. Soon enough, the heat in Y/N’s chest and shame in her features dissipate till the two are silently engrossed in finishing the remainder of their assignment.

With the adrenaline from Eddie’s shameless teasing, Y/N finds the strength to finish the assignment with ease.

“Okay, I’m finished with my part. How are you on yours?” Y/N asks.

“Hold on. I’m almost done with this last question” Eddie says without looking away from the paper as he scribbles out his answer.

Eddie puts his pencil down and looks up at Y/N, “I’m done." 

“We did it!” Y/N cheers and raises her hand up for a high five. Eddie is confused at first, then claps his hand to hers. 

“Yeah,” he forces a smile. 

This isn’t good news. It should be, but it isn’t. This means he won’t have a reason to spend time with Y/N anymore. If he's honest with himself, why else would someone like Y/N hang out with a freak like him. 

He recalls the first day they spent together and the conversation they had after they left the library. He remembers promising Y/N that they would do something fun to celebrate their finished assignment. He doubts Y/N remembers it or actually meant it when she promised it back. 

Part of him wants to bring it up, but it’s a miracle that she’s even here with him now. Maybe he can just make the most of his time left with her now, before it’s over.

Y/N checks her watch, “And it’s only 5:45!”

Eddie looks over his shoulder before turning back to Y/N. “You don’t have to be home till 7:00 right?”

“Yeah!”

“C’mere. I wanna show you something?” Eddie says and gets out of his chair. “Oh, what is it?” Y/N asks innocently.

He leads the way to his room and Y/N cautiously follows. He enters casually while Y/N lingers in the doorway. Eddie begins moving things around and searching for something within his drawers while Y/N scans the room; there’s stuff everywhere. How can someone think or breathe in a room like this? The disorganization makes Y/N yearn for the clean corners and empty edges of her own bedroom.

She takes in the mixture of band and playboy posters hung on the walls. There’s empty cigarette cartons and crushed beer cans on the dresser. It smells faintly of weed and even a bit of aquanet. There’s clothes strewn about across every square inch of the room. 

She refrains from touching anything, feeling like the inside of a museum exhibit of a teenage boys room in 1985.

The chaos makes Y/N feel on edge, but she relaxes as her gaze settles on a weird looking, larger than life, bright red guitar hung on his mirror across from the doorway.

She slowly walks forward, almost entranced by the exquisite instrument. Its edges create a unique shape and the cherry red color is so vibrant. She stands before it and only looks, but her hands are itching to-

“Touch it,” Eddie says from behind and Y/N shrieks. She looks over her shoulder at Eddie standing inches away and clutches the part of her shirt over her chest.

“Holy shit, I didn’t mean to scare you there tiger,” Eddie chuckles and Y/N rolls her eyes. 

“You didn’t… I just could hear you.” Y/N mutters and looks at the hand he effortlessly places on her shoulder.

“You can touch the guitar if you want,” Eddie says and he’s so close Y/N can feel the vibration of his voice against her body. His warm breath lightly coats her exposed ear.

“Can I?”

“Go ahead.”

“Okay,” she says softly and reaches out to touch the base of the guitar. She lightly runs her fingers across the sleek material and shivers. She slowly strums her fingers along the chords and nearly jumps at the corresponding noise. 

“Wanna hold it?” Eddie asks and lifts his arms up to take the guitar off its mount. Y/N’s eyes are drawn to the tattoos on the taut skin of his muscled bicep. 

He offers the guitar to Y/N and she takes it, placing the strap over her head and onto her shoulder.

“Do you play on this often?”

“Yeah, we play at a dive bar a couple miles out of town.”

“What?” Y/N asks as she strums across the chords. She looks up at him in confusion.

Eddie looks around for a chord and connects the guitar to the amp on his dresser, “I play with my band, Corroded Coffin.”

“You’re in a band?” She asks with widened eyes.

“Yeah, you should come see us sometime,” he says confidently.

Y/N nods, speechless at the realization that Eddie is not only in a band but performs live. Her mind zeroes in on the vision of what Eddie would like playing guitar on stage. How his hair would stick to sweat on his skin and how the stage lights would reflect on his tattooed arms or dazzling eyes. 

“Here, try this,” Eddie turns on the amp and hands Y/N a guitar pick. Y/N takes it and nervously strums the guitar. She nearly flinches from the loud vibrations. 

“See, you’re a natural,” Eddie teases. Y/N glares at him.

“We’ll take it slow,” Eddie says as he leans forward and places her hands on a specific string and fret. Y/N looks up at his hooded eyes, lids half closed as he looks down at her hands. She’s almost mesmerized by his beautiful features till the electric touch of his fingers on hers brings her attention down to the instrument between them.

“Now strum” his command brings Y/N back to earth. She strums and hears the sound vibrate off the instrument. 

“Now put your right hand on the string below it and put your left hand here,” Eddie adjusts. She strums. 

“Okay, now put this hand here, on the D and G chords, and this hand here,” Eddie gives her another chord and she strums. They repeat the process for several more chords. 

“Now put it all together,” Eddie instructs. 

Y/N slowly strums, pausing to adjust between chords. When she forgets a chord, because why did Eddie have to make her memorize so many, she looks up to Eddie and he points out the next one. 

She plays the entire piece and it sounds crooked but somewhat familiar. She tries it again and again. The more she plays the more she recognizes the song he’s just taught her. 

“Wait,” Y/N looks back down in concentration and plays the chords faster. Duh duh duhhh duh duh duh duhhhh, duh duh duhhh duh duh. 

“Eddie,” Y/N exclaims. She looks at him with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. She looks down and plays the chords more fluidly, getting into a rhythm. 

She plays the song again and moves her body to the rhythm, leaning forward and back and bobbing her head along the way.

“Eddie! I’m…” Y/N trails off as she finishes the song one last time.

“A rockstar?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“No,” she rolls her eyes then peers up at him.

“That, smarty pants, is the legendary riff to Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple.”

Y/N stops playing and tightly clutches the guitar in her fingers. She scrunches her eyebrows and grins at the impending sense of pride she feels.

“That was… awesome! I loved every second of it. Do you feel like this every time you play?” She asks in breathless excitement. Her chest drastically rising and falling.

Eddie’s taken aback by Y/N’s reaction. He didn’t think she would be this excited or awestruck. He clears his throat and says, “Something like that.”

 Y/N takes the strap off and holds out the guitar to him.

“It’s your turn,” She smugly grins at him. 

“You want me to play?” Eddie smirks and grabs the guitar. 

Y/N sits back on the edge of his bed. “Yeah, show me what you’ve got.” She says with a challenging tone.

Eddie adjusts the guitar in his expert fingers. He holds his hand out for the guitar pick and flicks his wrist before he starts strumming. 

“You mean, a little something like this,” he winks before playing the chords to Iron Man by Black Sabbath. Y/N gasps at how much it sounds like the tape he played just the other day.

“Or maybe a little something like this,” he says and expertly plays the Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple chord he just taught her. 

“Surely you know that one,” he winks at her open mouthed and wide eyed face.

“Wanna hear something new I’ve added to my set list?” Eddie asks and Y/N nods with heat emanating from every inch of her skin. Eddie breathes in then exhales. He closes his eyes and strums the intro riff to When Doves Cry by Prince. 

“Eddie!” Y/N squeals as she rises to her feet, smile beaming wide from ear to ear. “You learned my favorite Prince song? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N knows she must be imagining the pink tint beginning to coat Eddie’s cheeks. 

Eddie decided from the first time Y/N rode in his van that he would learn a song for her. He figured a Prince song would be the most natural option. After borrowing the Purple Rain tape from one of his bandmates and listening to it for hours on repeat, he not only fell in love with the album but wanted to learn how to play every single song. He really liked the intro riff to When Doves Cry but he never realized the song would draw him in the same way it did for Y/N.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he says bashfully. 

Truthfully, he didn’t expect he would ever get the chance to show her, but the look in her eyes let him know that the late nights spent practicing were well worth it.

Y/N looks at him smiling breathlessly at her. This is the nicest and most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for her. 

She turns her head to the side and covers her smile with her fingers. If she doesn’t get it together, she’s sure her heart will explode out of her chest.

Keeping her fingertips on her lips, she asks, “Do you sing, at all? For Corroded Coffin?”

Eddie presses his lips together, fighting the smile threatening to form on his face and does a one shoulder shrug.

“What does that mean?” 

“Sorta, kinda.” Eddie shortly grins. With most girls, he’ll never hesitate to let them know he’s the frontman of Corroded Coffin. He doesn’t know why, but girls always seem to like him more when they learn he’s a guitar player, especially when he tells them he’s the lead singer too. 

“So do you sing backup then?”

“Not exactly,” he grins at her like a Cheshire cat.

“Eddie,” Y/N whines, “Why are you being so weird about this? Just answer the question.”

Eddie leans back on his dresser and crosses his arms over his chest. He smiles and cockily says, “Just come to one of our shows. You’ll find out then.” 

“When’s your next show?”

“Friday.”

Y/N gulps. “Friday, as in tomorrow?”

“Yup,” Eddie replies, cockily popping the p-sound.

Y/N frowns, “I can’t. My friends and I made plans to go to Star Court after school.”

“That’s fine. We usually don’t go on till 11:00 anyway. You can come after. And bring your friends too.”

“Eddie, I can’t do that. On weekends my curfew is 10:00.”

Eddie looks down in disappointment, “Oh, come on, you can just sneak out. Your parents won’t know the difference.”

“Seriously, I can’t. And I just know they would find out somehow. Nothing gets past them.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Get one of them to cover for you.”

Y/N knows that if her sister could, that she would cover for her, and that she could potentially get away with it, but that’s way too big of an if she’s not ready to gamble on. 

“Eddie, even if I could get my sister to cover for me, I just don’t think it would work.”

“Sure they will. They’ll probably be asleep the whole time and not even notice you’re gone.”

Y/N tries to imagine it. Never mind the fact that she doesn’t even have a car to get her there. But, if somehow he gave her a ride and if her sister covered her and if everything worked out… What would happen then? Probably nothing because there’s no way that could ever happen.

“Look Eddie, while I’m under my parents roof, I can’t afford to get in trouble in any capacity. I just can’t. I hope you can understand,” Y/N looks at him pleadingly.

Eddie looks into her eyes and sees a scared child. It’s a sight he recognizes instantly because he used to have it too.

“Yeah, I understand,” he replies in a sense of respectful disappointment.

“Thanks,” Y/N whispers and Eddie nods. 

An awkward silence fills the room but is interrupted when Y/N gets an idea. “I would still like to see you play though.”

Eddie looks at her in confusion.

“Maybe you could give me a preview, tonight,” Y/N bats her eyes. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“You could play one song. It could be like practice.” She says innocently with big doe eyes.

Eddie is tempted to give in, but he hasn’t fully let go of the hope that she could see him play live with Corroded Coffin someday. He knows it's a lot to ask for someone like her, and yet he wants it badly enough to ask for it anyway.  

But for all he knows, this might be the last night they ever spend together. If she were to never see him play live or even see him outside of the classroom, then he wants to give her something. He wants to give Y/N anything she asks and one last beautiful memory between them both.

“Okay,” he gives in.

“Really? You sure?” Y/N worries she might have pressured him. 

“Yeah, for you I will.”

Y/N smiles hopefully at him “Okay.”

Eddie turns over and moves items around on his dresser. He pulls out a microphone and plugs the chord attached to it to the amp beside him

He juts his chin in the direction of the back corner of the room “You mind passing me the mic stand over there?”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she silently follows his request. Is he really about to do this right now?

“You sure it won’t be too loud? Don’t want to disturb the neighbors.”

“Nah, they don’t care.”

“They don’t or you don’t care?”

“Y/N, I practice like this all the time and they’ve never said anything to me before.”

“Yet.”

“Y/N, do you want me to do this or not?” He chuckles. 

Y/N nods, “I do.”

“Just sit back,” He flicks his wrist in the direction of his bed, “Relax, and enjoy the show.”

Y/N slowly backs away and takes a seat on the edge of his bed. She looks up at him, palms sweating and nerves tingling.

Eddie breathes and takes a moment to think about which song he’ll play for her. Besides the short Prince riff he just learned for her, there’s nothing he can play that she’ll like or isn’t metal. He doesn’t have a lot of options, so he goes with a safe choice and hopes she’ll appreciate it anyway.

He kisses his guitar pick before strumming the chords to Paranoid by Black Sabbath. It’s his favorite song to perform and one he knows like the back of his hand. 

He begins strumming and shaking his head in rhythm with the song.

Finished with my woman 'cause

She couldn't help me with my mind

People think I'm insane because

I am frowning all the time

His voice echoes through the sound system and fills Y/N’s ears. Y/N looks at him and notices how his full lips curl closely to the head of the microphone. 

All day long I think of things

But nothing seems to satisfy

Think I'll lose my mind

If I don't find something to pacify

He looks from his fingers on the guitar to Y/N’s face. His eyes lock with hers and he smiles before wailing:

Can you help me

Occupy my brain?

Oh yeah

His fingers dance along the strings and up the neck of the cherry red electric guitar. He thrusts his shoulders and moves his pelvis along with the instrument. He shakes his head, letting his frizzy waves fly. 

I need someone to show me

The things in life that I can't find

I can't see the things that make

True happiness, I must be blind

He's lost in focus, trying to play it perfectly for her. He’s never looked more beautiful. Y/N’s dryly swallows the saliva in her poached throat. An unnerving sensation begins to grow in the pit of her stomach and her heart races to the beat of the song. In this moment, she realizes that she finally understands what it means when people say they’re turned on. 

In just a simple pair of black jeans, a hellfire club t shirt, a leather jacket, and jean vest, Y/N feels like she’s in the presence of an absolute sex god. 

Make a joke and I will sigh

And you will laugh and I will cry

Happiness I cannot feel

And love to me is so unreal

Y/N can feel the blood dancing in her veins. She almost wants to stand up and jump or dance around to the song, but one, there’s hardly any space, and two, how do you even dance to this kind of music? It’s so much easier to dance to music on the radio or the Spanish music her parents listen to.

She settles for nodding her head to the rhythm and grinning at Eddie. She even lets out a few whoops and hollers to cheer him on which he nervously smiles at before refocusing on the song.

And so as you hear these words

Telling you now of my state

I tell you to enjoy life

I wish I could but it's too late

Eddie strums the last chord and it slowly fades out. The buzz of the sound still reverberates around the room. His chest rises and falls and the hair at the back of his neck is damp. 

Eddie wakes up from his metal induced trance and sees Y/N standing on her feet and clapping. She’s grinning widely at him and he breathlessly smiles back at her.

“Eddie! That was so awesome! You’re literally a rockstar!”

Y/N could just hug him, but there’s a whole guitar between them. And despite the fact that Eddie already took them to a “good acquaintances that can hug under specific circumstances” level, Y/N feels too shy to initiate such contact.

“Nah,” Eddie breathlessly replies with a wave of  a hand.

“No seriously,” Y/N takes a step forward and places her hand an inch away from his holding the neck of the guitar, “You have a gift.”

They lock eyes for a moment. Y/N’s shine in admiration and Eddie’s gleam in pride.

Eddie breaks the contact to move over and unplug the chords.

As he puts the guitar back in its place, Y/N turns around and walks around the room with her back facing Eddie. It’s embarrassing how big he’s making her smile. 

“So how long have you been playing guitar?” She asks as she pretends to look at the other things in his room. 

“I don’t know. As long as I can remember.” Eddie says as his eyes follow her movement. 

“Is that what you want to do when you grow up?” Y/N asks. 

“I’m nineteen. Some would say I’m pretty grown already.” 

Y/N’s tenses. She doesn’t like when he throws his age around like that. It makes her feel intimidated knowing how much older and experienced in life he is. 

“You know what I mean Eddie.”

“I don’t know Y/N. Probably yeah. I want to keep playing for as long as I can.”

“What do you think you’ll do when you graduate?” Y/N asks as she walks over and sits at the corner of his bed. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it,” Eddie replies from his place against the dresser.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he replies curtly.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, just haven’t.” 

“Really?” Y/N asks incredulously. 

“Look, maybe I’ll get a job with my uncle. Maybe I’ll go and fix up old cars. Maybe I’ll work at the record store at Star Court. Is that what you want to hear?” Eddie says in frustration as he plops down next to Y/N.

Y/N holds her breath and waits for him to calm down. She didn’t mean to make him mad, but what she doesn’t realize is just how sensitive of a subject this is for Eddie.

“Point is, I’ll figure it out when the time comes.”

“You don’t… have a plan?” She asks quietly, barely above a whisper at the boy sitting next to her.

“No, I don’t have a plan Y/N,” he says in a controlled voice as he looks down at his hands folded in his lap. “Why should I make a plan when it’s probably just gonna change?”

She turns her head to face him. “Yeah, sometimes your plans can change, but they still give you something to work for, something to hope for.”

“The last thing I need is false hope.”

“It’s not false hope, Eddie.”

“Tell me how it’s not.”

“I mean, if you could make your tomorrow better than your today, wouldn’t you at least try?”

Eddie looks down at Y/N who’s already looking up at him. He scrunches his eyebrows and bites the inside of his lower lip. 

He looks back down at his lap and Y/N’s eyes trail to the tattoos on his arms. She wishes she could reach out and touch them, but that would be weird right? She’s in his room, leg to leg and arm to arm with him, but it would be too much if she reached out and placed her fingers over that delicate skin, right?

“Even if I did, what would it matter? Tomorrow isn’t promised, why should I act like it is?”

Y/N can’t deny that some of his words ring true, but it’s still not enough to convince her otherwise. Y/N sighs, “Are you happy, Eddie? With the way things are now.”

Eddie can’t find himself saying yes. Of course he isn’t happy he failed his senior year of high school twice. Of course he isn’t happy to be a burden on his uncle. But as long as he had his guitar and his D&D, it made life bearable.

“I mean for some things yeah, but I have a lot of other things to be happy about. I have my friends and I have my Uncle Wayne and I have music. To some, it may not look like a lot, but for me, that’s all I need.”

Y/N closes her eyes and breathes in. “Eddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Y/N twiddles her fingers in her lap. “You do have a lot to be happy about. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you can be grateful for everything your family’s done for you and you can still want more for yourself. I know I am.”

“You are?”

“Sure. I’m grateful for all the sacrifices my parents have made and all the things they’ve done for me, but at the same time, I know there’s more out there and I want it, even if it’s just a taste.”

Eddie muses over Y/N’s words. “Yeah I guess so.”

“In the same way, I’m grateful for everything Hawkins has given me, even if it includes shitty school counselors and hardly anything to do for miles, but I still want more than what this little town can offer, you know?”

Eddie nods slowly. “So what do you want?”

“Huh?”

“What do you want? That your parents or Hawkins can’t give you?”

Y/N takes a deep breath. There’s so many things that she wants in life. But she feels weird letting it all come out to Eddie. These are things she thinks about constantly but never tells anyone. She's excited but tries to contain it and instead lets out a simple, all encompassing answer. “Freedom.”

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles at her.

“Yeah. I can’t really do what I want or be who I want under my parent’s roof or in a place like Hawkins.”

“I feel the same way. I mean I can be who I want in here, but out there…” Eddie trails off and shakes his head.

“Is there anything you want?”

Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know. Never really thought about it.”

“Really?”

“I mean… no one’s ever asked me.”

“Well, I’m asking you. And I’m sure there’s something. For starters, do you ever want to leave Hawkins?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think about getting out of this god forsaken town, but then I think about my uncle Wayne and my parents and what any of them would think and I just… I’m not ready to leave this place just yet. Maybe in a couple of years, but for now, I’m not ready to leave my family, my uncle.”

Eddie hasn’t really brought up his parents before, so she knows how big of a deal it must be for him to have brought them up. 

She places a gentle hand on his forearm and slowly rubs her thumb along the skin. Afraid to look Eddie in the eyes and make a vulnerable moment even more uncomfortable, she watches as Eddie brings his other hand over hers and guides it to interlock their fingers.

“I’m so sorry Eddie.” Y/N squeezes his hand. 

“You don’t have to be.” Eddie says in a comforting voice as he sandwiches her hand between the both of his. 

The two are silent for a moment before Eddie adds, “I think I might want to get out of this trailer though, stop being such a burden on my uncle.”

“Eddie, I’m sure that’s not true.” “Eh, it kind of is though. I mean imagine barely making ends meet and still having another mouth to feed. He’s not even a parent but for the past several years he's had a kid to worry about. I don’t want to be that anymore. I just want to be like a normal nephew and uncle. I–” Eddie chokes and squeezes Y/N’s hand. 

He clears his throat and in a strong voice says, “I want to stop being a fuckup and finally make him proud.”

Y/N gasps and tightens her grip on his hand. “Eddie–”

“Shh.” Eddie shakes his head. He breathes in deeply. “I just need to graduate. And then, I’ll get a job and I can get my own place. Maybe even upgrade the busted old van outside, but not too soon though. She’s been with me through too much.”

“Your van is a she?” Y/N laughs.

“Yes, she is. She’s my old girl.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and Eddie chuckles. “Guys are so weird about their cars.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“I’m very much not.” 

“Whatever you say, smarty pants.”

Eddie squeezes Y/N’s hand and she looks at him. “So, what about your band?”

“What about my band?” Eddie smiles and cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“Is there anything you want for your band’s future?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? There’s gotta be something,” Y/N looks up at him, “You have a gift that needs to be shared with the world.”

Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know. I never thought of it like that before.”

“Eddie, you could perform in front of hundreds of adoring fans every night. Don’t you want to hear girls screaming, we love you Eddie, from the mosh pit of every arena across the country?”

“Only if you’re one of them,” Eddie pinches Y/N’s cheek. She giggles and swats his hand away. 

“Sure, if you ever have a gig in Chicago, let me know and I’ll be there.” 

“So tell me smarty pants, why Chicago?”

Y/N shrugs and giddily replies, “Oh, lots of reasons. We visit a lot because we have family there and every time I go I fall more and more in love with the city. The people there are so cool and at night the skyline lights twinkle like stars. It's beautiful. Everything about the city makes me feel alive. I feel like I can be myself there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nods and smiles. “It doesn’t hurt to be too far from here either.”

“Oh so the big Chicago hot-shot is gonna come back and grace the presence of us Hawkins common folk?”

“Shut up Eddie, it’s not even like that.” Y/N leans to the side to shove Eddie.

“You’re gonna get into that school Y/N, I just know it. You’ll be the best thing to come out of this town.”

Y/N looks up into Eddie’s eyes, sparkling in the low light of the lamps in his room. “Thanks Eddie… You’re gonna make your uncle proud–you’ll make all of us proud too, I know it.”

Eddie smiles at Y/N. His lips pulled tight to create a dense dimple by the corner of his mouth. A comfortable silence falls between them.

All of a sudden, Y/N feels a tightening in her chest. She can’t breathe properly. He’s too close. Talking could distract her before, but now that there’s silence, all she can focus on is the feeling of his leg against hers. Of the warmth and weight of his hand in hers. 

He shuffles his torso slightly to face her and his arm rubs against her. She looks down at the newly created empty space between their arms.

“Y/N,” Eddie softly calls out. Y/N looks up and her breath hitches from how close his face is to hers.

“Yeah,” she replies barely above a whisper. She looks between his warm chocolate eyes. His eyes flicker from her lips and settle on her own bright eyes. 

Is this going to happen?

Y/N’s palms are sweating and her heart is pumping loudly and violently in her chest. 

A part of her is afraid and nervous and not yet ready for this to happen. But the other part of her is the opposite. 

She hadn’t realized it till this very moment. If anyone was going to be her first kiss, she would want it to be Eddie. But would he even want to kiss her? What is happening? If Eddie is going to do something, he needs to do it now and take Y/N out of her misery.

He opens his mouth and closes it. His eyes flash to the side and he gulps. “I should probably take you home now. Don’t want you to miss curfew.”

If Eddie’s not mistaken, a look of disappointment crosses Y/N’s features quickly before she covers it with a mask of neutrality.

“Oh, yeah, ok,” she nods and looks at her watch. It’s fifteen till 7:00. Of all times for Eddie to be more concerned about following the rules than Y/N, why now?

“Let’s go,” Eddie taps the back of her hand with his free one and unravels their intertwined fingers. Eddie rises and walks to the door. Y/N stays back for a second, not yet ready to leave this room, this trailer, or this surreal moment.

“Y/N,” Eddie smirks from the doorway. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Y/N quietly nods and follows him. She silently grabs her things from the kitchen and follows Eddie out the door. She walks over to the van and hears the grass crunch beneath her feet. As she waits for Eddie to lock the trailer door and unlock the van, she looks around and sees the glare of the yellow street lights cast over the metal of the trailer.

The two climb into the van and Eddie starts the car. He puts a tape into the deck and pulls out of the trailer park. Y/N watches his slender fingers on the steering wheel as the shadows dance across them.

She feels solemn as he drives her back home. She doesn’t want to be going home and leaving Eddie just yet. She doesn’t want this to be the last time she ever rides in his van or hears his heavy metal blasting through the speakers. 

The trailer park is all the way in East Hawkins, so the drive to her house is long, but not long enough.

“That wasn’t too bad, right?”

“What wasn’t too bad?” Y/N turns to look at Eddie with a red glow cast on his skin by the stoplight.

“Having to work with the freak,” Eddie points to himself, “On a simple chemistry assignment.”

“Eddie, you shouldn’t call yourself that. You’re not a freak.”

“Yeah, well that’s the thing about nicknames, they’re given to you and they’re pretty hard to get rid of,” Eddie shrugs.

“Well I don’t care. You’re not a freak to me. Annoying? Sure. A deranged metal head? Maybe. But definitely not a freak.”

Eddie chuckles and the sight of his joy makes Y/N smile.

“Eddie,” Y/N says as he turns into her subdivision. “Today was fun.”

He looks at her. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Y/N grins at him. “Maybe we can still do something fun… to celebrate a job well done on this assignment.”

“You want to?” Eddie looks at her from his peripheral vision.

“Yeah. If you do too.” Y/N smiles at her lap. She looks up and sees the houses leading up to her own. 

“Yeah, sure. You got anything in mind?”

As Eddie passes her house, she sees her fathers car in the driveway.

“My dad’s home,” Y/N says with alarm as Eddie parks in front of her house. “I think he’s inside already, but we don’t have a lot of time.”

“What?” Eddie shifts his body to face her and her frazzled state.

Y/N unbuckles her seatbelt and grabs her backpack. “Are you free on Saturday?”

Eddie had plans with some of the boys from Hellfire club but they could wait. “I can be.”

Y/N looks from her house to Eddie. “Good. We’ll pick back up on this tomorrow, before class, okay?”

Eddie nods. Y/N looks at the dashboard and the time reads 6:58. She looks over her shoulder and sees no one standing outside her house or peeking through the blinds of the living room windows. 

She turns back around to face Eddie. She looks at him for a moment, gathering the nerve to do something she might end up regretting. Eddie notices and looks at her in confusion.

Okay, it’s now or never.

She grabs the back of his seat for leverage and leans over. She lightly places a hand on his neck for stability and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

“Goodnight Eddie,” she whispers inches away from his wide eyed and slack jawed face. 

She scrambles to get out of the van before he can even say anything. She shuts the door behind her and runs across the walkway to her front door. 

She opens the door and closes it behind her. To the right, her parents are loudly talking over some story on the news playing several feet from the left of her.

“I’m home,” Y/N shouts, “Gonna go to the restroom and I’ll be back down.” 

Her parents wave her off and Y/N excitedly pounces up the steps. She throws her backpack on the floor of her room and runs off to the bathroom across the hall.

She giggles at her reflection and brings her fingers to her lips. 

She doesn’t know what came over her, but it did. She kissed Eddie Munson, on the cheek though. But it’s the most she’s ever done in her life. 

She hopes he liked it but starts to worry he might not have. She shakes the worry out of her head and smiles. Little does she know, Eddie’s been dying to make a move but was 100% certain his advances would have been rejected. 

Y/N doesn’t know what any of this means for her and Eddie, but it thrills her nonetheless.

She keeps her composure throughout dinner, but once she excuses herself to go do homework in her room, she closes the door behind her, lays on her bed, and screams into her pillow with glee.

She climbs out of bed and turns on her portable radio. Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears plays and she begins dancing around her room. Her eyes land on a hairbrush on her dresser. She grabs it and uses it as a microphone while singing to herself in the mirror. 

When the chorus comes back on, she lies back on her bed and sings:

 Something happens and I'm head over heels

I never find out until I'm head over heels

Something happens and I'm head over heels

Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart

Don't, don't, don't throw it away

“Y/N,” Y/N’s sister yells as she opens the door. Y/N scrambles to sit up and looks at her in embarrassment. 

“Turn that crap down,” she says as she walks over and lowers the volume. “It’s annoying as hell.”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at her sister as she walks out of the room and leaves the door open. 

“Can you at least close the door?” Y/N yells over at her in the hallway. 

Moments like this are what make Y/N wish she had a walkman. 

Y/N spends the rest of her evening completing homework for other classes while intermittently replaying the time she just spent with Eddie. 

By the time she lays in bed, ready to go to sleep, visions of Eddie behind his guitar or his big brown eyes and bright smile flash across her mind. Her heart can’t wait to see him again tomorrow. She doesn’t know what they’ll do next time they hang out either, but all that matters is that she’s with him.

It’s weird, feeling the way she does. And a part of her almost feels silly. How did this boy just come into her life and already made this much of an impact? 

Y/N doesn’t understand her attraction to the deranged metalhead and in a similar way, Eddie doesn’t understand his attraction to the smartypants girl next door, but the both of them are eager to find out why.

#stranger things fanfic #stranger things #st4 #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #urfavstargirl1 #eddie stranger things #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Do you have any recommendations for cute fics? x

Hi!! not sure if you're looking for a specific length, etc. but these are a few that came to mind. Enjoy :)

2 A.M. Texts by everysingleday / @sun-lt (30k)

Harry has just come out and, with his best friend Louis’ support, he might finally be brave enough to go on a date with the guy he’s been chatting with on a dating app. Meanwhile, there’s a cat that wants to murder Louis, a fast-approaching deadline for Harry to find a new place to live, and this minor situation wherein he and Louis can’t seem to stop making out. It’s not a big deal. Louis is just being supportive.

—

aka, a practice kissing fic.

Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie (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.

Everything I Can Arrange, Every Part of Me You Change by orphan_account (10k)

“Don’t you try that shit with me,” Niall spits the second he reaches Louis, pulling off the hood with force. “What the hell is this?” He plops down next to Louis on the empty bleacher and unceremoniously pushes a sheet of crumpled paper in his face.

Netflix and Chill Buddy Application

It’s like no matter how hard Louis tries, he can’t seem to run away from this stupid fucking flyer. All the girls (and some of the boys) in every one of his classes have been talking about it all week. It’s on every wall of every building on campus. Louis went for a jog last night and he nearly tripped and died over a loose one on the football track.

You’ll Never Need to Doubt Itby supernope (1k)

Louis has cinnamon swirl hair and Love, Actually on DVD, and they’ve got five hours to Dallas, and everything is fluff.

To Have and To Hold by sweariwouldnt (15k)

“Do you think maybe…. am I getting cold feet?”

Louis doesn’t know what to say, instead he puts his book away and turns to his side, to face Harry. Harry looks at him from the side of his eye and then focuses his eyes back on the ceiling.

“Do you think you are?”

Harry makes a move resembling a shrug. “I don’t think I am.”

“Do you not…want to get married?” Louis starts hesitantly, knowing that it’s probably even silly to ask but he has to.

Harry turns to him, and takes his hand, kissing the knuckles. “I do, I do the most, it’s what I’ve wanted more than anything, I just… I don’t know. I feel… weird.”

Harry has a habit of planning their wedding when he feels down. It’s not ideal, really.

You Watched Me Sinkby bananasandboots / @anylessreal (38k)

They’ve discussed it a few times - the boyfriend thing. It’s not like it’s some forbidden, horrific, abandon hope all ye who talk about furthering the relationship sort of subject. They’re mature adults. They’re in tune with their feelings, their hearts’ desires, the way those butterflies swoop in their bellies whenever they so much as hold each other’s hands. They like each other. A lot. It’s mutual, they know. But for now, they’re just content to enjoy the simplicity of what they have, and what they have is great.

When dating in secret stops being enough, then they’ll discuss that too.

Or, the one where Harry teaches Sex Ed and sneaks around with the drama teacher, and doesn’t realize how out of tune he is with his true feelings until everyone else figures it out for him.

Part 1 of You Watched Me Sink Verse

#read

[zone-seven]

Kobra Kid Headcanons

- avid photographer. Cherri has a little dark room at his place and the two of them go on photography day trips and then hang out while developing the photos.

- He loooooves to show off his pictures, and they’re pretty good! He’s got a natural knack for composition and is very detail oriented, he can spend a really long time carefully setting up a shot if given the opportunity. His subject matter is fairly predictable: exceptionally cool cars/bikes/trucks, close ups of rare or weird car parts, decaying animals and animal skeletons, and bugs. Once in a while he’ll take a candid shot of Cherri or Poison or someone, or a landscape if something cool is going on, but 95% of the time it’s car or decay related stuff.

- He’s really sentimental, and his half of the room he and Poison share is decorated with his photos and the trinkets he’s collected over the years. He remembers the story behind every single one of them, and they are meticulously sorted by some sort of elusive criteria that Poison can’t quite figure out and Kobra can’t quite explain in a way that makes sense to others.

- Absolutely fascinated by vehicles. Can’t stress that enough, dude is ALWAYS thinking about cars. He loves to watch Ghoul work on cars in the shop and help her out when she’ll let him. It’s one of the few topics he’s interested in having an extensive conversation about. It’s basically impossible to be close to him and not pick up a lot of information about car parts.

- He’s got a little collection of die-cast cars and usually has one or more of them on him at any given time (though there are some that are too precious to him to leave their shelf). He does this half because simply having one with him is comforting, and half because he stims by spinning the wheels. He’s never been much of a “pretend to drive the toy car” guy.

- He’s fluent in both Japanese and English, and has picked up a handful of words and phrases in Spanish and Korean. He rarely verbally says more than a word or two unless it’s scripted.

- Generally relies VERY heavily on dialogue from The Mousekat Show for communication, though he’s constantly expanding his repertoire and picking up new scrips from the people around him too. He’s just extremely comfortable with his childhood scripts so he sticks with those a lot. It’s very easy to tell which scripts were taught to him by teachers or whoever because they’re much clearer to outsiders but don’t sound like him at all; it’s rather jarring if you’re used to his typical style of speaking. Very formal, VERY “city” style.

- He loves animals in general, but he had a startling and scary encounter with a military dog as they were leaving battery city and has been terrified of dogs ever since.

- Jet taught him to sew, and he does a lot of that. He does most of the mending and patching for the four’s clothes. He does some of that for friends too, which is how he finances his photography hobby.

- He and Poison have always been close (they’ve never known a life without the other, after all) but Kobra found it hard not to be somewhat resentful of his brother when they were kids. His disability and support needs were judged even more harshly in comparison to Poison’s extreme academic aptitude, and them being identical twins only made the comparisons and expectations worse. Poison has always seen him as an equal, but it was crystal clear to Kobra that people outside of his family only saw one of them as a full person, and it was understandably hard for him to not feel jealous and angry. Their relationship kind of struggled in their teen years and improved a lot once they left the city.

- He’s not religious or superstitious at all and has basically no patience for Poison’s fairly intense spirituality. He’ll put up with some amount of participating in it of it out of love, but he won’t pretend to believe.

#kobra kid #true lives of the fabulous killjoys #danger days #tlotfk #party poison #I’m back I guess. never left in my heart but I’m back talking about it <3

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Taskmaster New Year’s Treat was more fun than I’d expected, same as it was last year. This was largely down to Kojey Radical, it’s always fun when you get proper Taskmaster fans on the show. He made me laugh several times. The inclusion of an underage minor was pretty odd, and I wasn’t sure it was a good idea (especially since they’ve just created a special Taskmaster all for the children), but then the child actor turned out to actually be quite fun. He was good on the podcast, too.

I think it helped that the tasks themselves were really funny. I enjoyed season 16 a lot, but some of the tasks were a bit lackluster (they really need to slow down on the “do some other distracting thing at the same time as doing the regular task”, they get diminishing returns after a while), and I thought all the tasks in the latest NYT were great. I sort of see why they’d save the funnier tasks for an NYT episode, when the contestants aren’t comedians so there has to be more humour in the format. But also, I’d love to see them give the tasks with the most comedic potential to the people who extract comedic potential on a professional basis.

I’d enjoy a Champion of Champions: NYT edition once they’ve been doing this for five years. Though I guess the point of NYT is to get people who are too important to commit to more than one episode, and even the regular Taskmaster hasn’t been able to get all its champions make their schedules line up for a COC, so presumably getting the extra special celebrity stars from NYT free on the same day would be a challenge.

I’ve come around on that COC thing, by the way. I was really annoyed when I first read about Mae not participating, to the point where I didn’t even make a post about it because I knew how annoyed I was was too disproportionate to the situation to be worth posting. Not just because I really really like Mae Martin and was looking forward to seeing them, though of course there’s that. I was annoyed because it compromises the integrity of the competition of Taskmaster, if you can just throw anyone in there. Look, Alex, a large amount of my enjoyment of your show and/or general mental health is riding on me being able to maintain the suspension of disbelief, and view Taskmaster as a genuine competition. If you start admitting that they’re just a bunch of performance artists trying to make room in their schedules for this TV gig (no, come on, surely the Taskmaster contestants don’t get paid, they do it for the love of the game), the curtain starts to slip and it all falls apart.

In frustration, I said to a friend that this ruins the sporting aspect of Taskmaster, because it’s not like a sport will have a championship with a qualifier, and then just let someone else in because the date doesn’t work for one of the people who won their qualifier. But as soon as I said this, I realized: Yes they do. That’s exactly what they do. That’s why important qualifiers have challenge rounds at the end between the second and third place finishers, to determine the true alternate. Because if the winner gets an injury or a career in the States or some shit and can’t go to the championship, the alternate goes in their place. Kiell Smith-Bynoe was the second-place finisher in Taskmaster season 15, and is therefore the legitimate alternate, so it’s all fine! Integrity restored! I go back to maintaining my belief that Taskmaster functions as a genuine sport (I can come out of the delusion long enough to admit to knowing the reality on a Tumblr post – the disbelief that I can really never stop suspending is in the idea that genuine sports are also just made up and their results only matter because we’ve all collectively agreed to pretend that they do, no one’s allowed to talk about that (except Andy Zaltzman, who’s got some good material on the subject and is actually quite funny when he talks about that)).

And by the way, I’d like to state again that I hate the idea that it’s a (North) American thing to watch panel shows like they’re actual competitions. If I didn’t know much about British culture, I might believe that it’s just us North Americans who have this toxic competitiveness so entrenched in society that it comes up in even our entertainment TV shows, and the British are more enlightened about it. But I have heard the British cultural references. I have heard how wildly, blindingly competitive they get about something that we in North America consider a children’s game called soccer. And even aside from how deeply they get into (sort of) real sports, you can’t tell me that British people don’t get overly competitive about things that are not sports, treating them like they are a sport. I’ve heard how British people talk about pub quizzes, and darts, and snooker. We all like a good competition to distract us from the things with genuine meaning in the world! And I have chosen Taskmaster.

Anyway, when I decided to just view the Kiell situation as sending in the legitimate alternate, I got over my existential disappointment at pulling the curtain back on the realities of Taskmaster, and became only annoyed about not getting to see Mae Martin, whom I like. But that’s not so bad, because Kiell is fun too. And I think it’ll be a good episode. I can’t wait to see Dara O’Brien and Sarah Kendall up against each other, I think that’ll be an interesting matchup. Sophie Duker is a strong contender too. I think my money might be on Sarah Kendall to win, but I might be blinded by my large crush on her.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I give you the a possible epilogue of sorts where its like a day or so after the masquerade madness,and everything is back to its old ways at nrc,meanwhile poor sebek has yet to catch on to the fact raven and malleus aren’t related

Or alternatively crowley asks how everything thing went over at the other school and raven just looks at him so tired

[Related Posts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9]

Crowley asks the NRC kids how the symposium went and they all respond with dead-eyed stares. “It was fine.” Then he demands to know what souvenirs they all got him and the boys march off to their own dorms, totally blowing him off 😂 Raven regales him with a story about a great crimson calamity that struck the City of Flowers over dinner. “But it’s just a story,” she insists to the headmaster, intent on keeping Rollo’s secret, and onto hope that he will repent for his sins.

Sebek continues to remain completely ignorant 🙃 and he now follows Raven around like a lost dog hoping for free treats/headpats. (He also now picks fights with J word--) Raven has no idea what’s the matter with him and she’s mildly on edge that his attitude has done a 180. “I-Is Sebek-san up to something shady?!”

Meanwhile, Silver is happy that Sebek finally made a friend that he doesn’t constantly shout at... and Lilia’s encouraging Sebek to invite his “new bestie friend” over for tea in the Diasomnia lounge with sweets personally made by himself, of course. (Silver has to drag Lilia away before his father can do any real damage.)

... I also like to think that Raven and Rollo become weird passive aggressive pen pals 🤡 Like Rollo probably wants nothing more to do with her, but Raven’s dead set on keeping in touch and trying to be someone he can talk with (like how coming to NRC helped change her for the better). Maybe she can be like a student correspondent between NRC and NBC??

Raven sees herself and Rollo as very similar and she wants to do what she can to help him. We both scrawl down our true feelings on paper rather than share them with those around us, she writes, so let’s talk with each other. It doesn’t have to be about anything serious, but just sharing a little of our days and sharing stories. Let’s take small steps together. Shall I start? Today, Sebek-san introduced me to a new book series—

She can ask VP or Aide-kun to pass the letters along for her, and when the letter finally arrives at Rollo’s desk, he’ll frown and shake his head. “… Utterly ridiculous.” Because honestly, who sends letters these days instead of texting?? But Rollo will take out a piece of paper and a pen and write down a response anyway. Miss Crowley, you must cease your frivolous communications—

Over time maybe that animosity will ease a bit 😔 but honestly, they’ve still both got high walls to scale when it comes to being emotionally vulnerable. It’s just that Raven recognizes those barriers exist more readily than Rollo does. (And again, that’s why she empathizes with him.)

I can see them just talking about random subjects that turn out to be metaphors for how they’re really feeling, so each letter exchanged turns out to be like a little mind game or puzzle to get into the other’s head. For example, maybe Rollo begins to remark on the weather in each letter. On the surface, it seems like he’s making notes about the weather he observes when he goes up the tower to tend to the Bell of Salvation, but it may just be an indication of his mood. Stormy weather for a foul mood, clear skies for a happier mood, etc. Maybe when they’re “close” enough, he can send along some rare magic flowers for her enchanted inks too 💐

“What are you smiling about, milady?” Sebek might ask Raven.

“I received a letter from my friend! I can’t wait to read it after class.”

I wonder what the weather is like over in the City of Flowers… I wonder how Rollo-senpai is feeling today.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Rollo Flamme #Sebek Zigvolt #Dire Crowley #Raven Crowley #Silver #Lilia Vanrouge #notes from the writing raven #Rollo Flamm

[trifectum]

“LIAVOSSO’S GALACTIC JOURNAL! - entry 2: the Lybadora”

Entry two - still very rudimentary- but maybe she’ll get there in the end. Passion takes work!

“So - second entry! I’ve been working on my technique- got some tips from a ProtoDemon on Earth (I had the notes he gave me over tea tagged onto the end of the latest pages)

I’m ready for round two! Turns out, I can specify whether or not I want text highlighted - and they won’t directly write what I wrote! Check it out! PLANTS ARE JUST EXTREMELY LAZY ANIMALS! I can do other stuff too, like this, this, and this - but I’ll save those for a rainy day. For now - let’s get on with it!

The Lybadora

These big, red, handsy people are my second choice for this journal for good reason - they're easy to get undressed, and easy to make a quick sketch of. After such a miserable experience with the Mantisi, I needed a simple set of subjects to actually have a conversation with and enjoy the company of. That and a bonus of having all the most difficult to talk formally about out of the way for the rest of the entries.

Biology

While Lybadora are actually pretty genetically similar to humans, what with their generally humanoid silhouette and organs, there are a few differences. Obviously, four arms, no external nose, three fingers, and spiky hair are some, but the height difference also tends to be a little wide. I’ve heard of humans and Lybadora being attracted to and marrying each other before, so I guess the hormonal similarities are quite distinct. That or the Lybadora’ll spend a night with anything that works, and so will the majority of humans. Either way, they are prone to their ‘emotions’.

Speaking of which - I did have to ‘human proof’ them a little. For example, the male sitting in a chair is my problem solving for that ‘bag’ situation. As you may have guessed - human and Lybadora sex organs are similar too. To all us non-humans that’s fine (who cares, right?), but most of humanity tends to be outwardly prudish, and really enjoys censoring anything that even implies a recognisable sex organ. So I’m just gonna respect that for the sake of staying off the watchlist of the Curator.

History

I don’t think I elaborated this enough the first time - but this is for my evaluation of encounters I’ve had with the allotted species. I guess I can also mention a bit of general history here and there - but I’m not a trained historian, so fair warning. Generally me and Lybadora are rather well separated. In terms of aggressive situations, nothing much is exchanged that wouldn’t have been if it were any other species. At most, their natural tendency to challenge worthy opponents is a tad bit informal. No one really knows why they’ve learned to challenge people to combat - just that it had to be some kind of adapted ritual from an era where such a thing had more weight. They are traditionally a hedonistic society, which does sort of fuel some opinions they tend to have of beings like me: being almost entirely unique is a ‘pull’ to most of the more adventurous ones. But that’s almost atypical really, Lybadora are famously forward.

Opinion

The Lybadora are decent people. It’s not too difficult to talk to one, and their personal ideals aren’t typically malicious. I guess they can be very off putting to an idle human observer - but an active conversation is always a little off from the sidelines. They… did sort of make me wonder about my advertising though; couldn’t exactly pay them with money if they were extremely hopeful of a ‘different equity’. Eh - we’re all consenting adults - it’s just a matter of specifying that I pay in Qwarts alone next time. OH and of course Kria is off with the Blade on the safest section of the allotted planet during my figure-sketching sessions.

Summary

If you like the kinds of party loving, fight loving, loving loving people you rarely see being themselves out in the wild - you like Lybadora. They’re a cuddly alternative to trying to befriend a wallkeeper in the docks of the Hell Facility, and can sniff out a good time from a mile away. Just keep an eye on them if you suspect anything more.

Hey! That’s it - much better this time, aye? Make sure to ask your questions wherever the questions are asked! Until next time!”

#art #illustration #drawing #alien oc #journal #worldbuilding #speculative evolution

[house-of-slayterr]

A Dinner to Die For:

Tag: @iloveslasher @myers-meadow-selfship

Meadow’s POV:

My schedule was packed to the brim today. I had an early morning meeting with the school board over coffee. I had three classes to teach. And then I had to be home for Hannibal’s dinner party. I was sort of excited for it, Frances helped me pick out a fancy new dress that would knock his socks off.

Sure, maybe my focus should be on actually trying to impress his friends. But I am a woman with needs, and what this woman needs is to be roughly manhandled by her fiancé after teasing him all night. It was the perfect plan, truly. Hannibal was a strong man, but even he couldn’t resist such a simple tactic.

I flatted out my dress as I got out of the car, walking into the coffee shops to see my boss already seated.

“Ahhh, miss Meadow, early as always.”

“Early is on time, on time is late.” I laughed.

“And that’s exactly what I love about you as an employee. Please, sit, I’ve already ordered us some cinnamon cappuccinos.”

“Sound delicious.”

“So, I know you’re wondering why I had to meet with you today. I’ve, there’s no real easy way to approach this subject I guess.”

“Whatever you have to say to me sir, I will be civil as always. There’s no stress here.” I offered.

He seemed a bit high strung. More so than usual. I suppose it wouldn’t be easy it be the head of the board or directors at a university.

“Truly, it’s not a big deal, but you know how these things go.”

I nodded as the barista set our cups at the table, thanking her and handing her a tip as she left to serve someone else.

“A few of the female students have had some complaints?”

“Oh? I was not aware of this.”

“It’s seems, despite me thinking your attire is completely appropriate, they aren’t on the same page. It’s petty, high school nonsense, but they’ve had some complaints about their boyfriends not paying attention during your lectures because there too busy staring at your um…” he cleared his throat, trailing off the sentence.

“Oh, alright. I guess I’ll wear cardigans to class now.”

“Thanks, you know I never would have said anything if-“

“It’s ok Herb, you’re just doing your job. It’s not my fault I have a nice figure, but if it’s genuinely distracting to my students I will try my best to combat that.”

“We’ll that was the extent of business, sorry I set so much time aside for the meeting, you know how it is.”

“Yeah. It’s fine we can just relax and enjoy our coffee for a minuet. It’s peaceful. How are you doing, how are the kids?”

“Oh they’re kids.”

I laughed lightly.

“That and huh?”

“Lacy is suffering from ‘daddy’s girl’ syndrome and Blake doesn’t like it. But how am I meant to stay mad at this face? I hate making my wife the bad guy, but I just can’t do it!”

He showed me a picture of his daughter. She was positively adorable. I didn’t much care for kids, which is why I taught in college. But I could appreciate them for what they were.

“Yeah, I bet with those eyes she gets out of a lot.” I chuckled.

“Don’t you know it. She’s learned the dreaded ‘please’ coupled with the puppy dog eyes. I crack every time. But Blake’s been doing good, he’s starting middle school this year.”

“Is that so? Already! I swear he was just born yesterday.”

“Time flies I guess. Lacy starts kindergarten too, so my wife will have some time alone finally. I feel bad leaving her with the kids all day, but she gets to go out at night with her girls. So we compromise.”

“You have to appreciate a father who actually watches his children. Do you know how many of the male professors I’ve talked to during our monthly mixers that refer to watching their kids as ‘babysitting’? It’s appalling.”

Herb groaned.

“God I know! I could never disconnect myself form my family like that. They’re my everything, no matter how much of a pain in the ass they are. Oh, I’m vo graduations on your engagement by the way. You seem happy, if any deserves it it’s you.”

“Thank you. Honestly it’s so strange, I never really thought I’d be the Marrying type.”

“Have any ideas for the wedding yet?”

“Umm no, we’re taking our time with engagement. Who’s to say just because he put a ring on my finger we gotta get married next month, or even in the next year. I sort of like the title finance.”

Herb laughed lightly.

“I was the opposite. Me and Henrietta eloped, my mother was furious! But we’re thinking this year we’ll have a proper event. That way the kids can be involved in the ceremony when we renew our vows.”

“Oh gosh, that sounds wonderful!”

“You’re invited of course. You’re the best person on my pay roll, I would be honoured to have you there.”

“And I would be honoured to be there for you. You’re one of the best bosses I’ve ever had.”

“You can bring the fiancé.”

“Oh, umm I didn’t tell you did I?”

He shook his head.

“Two fiancés actually. Doctor Lecter and I are polyamorous. I’m afraid my dear Frances would have a fit if they weren’t invited as well. They keep asking to meet my work friends, would it still be ok if I had two plus ones?”

“Oh, gosh, of course. I would love to finally meet this Doctor of yours, and Frances sounds lovely. Consider them invited.”

“Thank Herb, I’m glad things are working out for the both of us. This meeting was nice, you know, other than discovering a bunch of 20 something are apparently getting turned on in my Entomology course.” I laughed.

He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, wasn’t exactly the type of thing I ever wanted to have to call a meeting about. I really do feel for all the nonsense all the women on my staff have to deal with. Please let me know if there’s anything I can ever actively do to combat stuff like this. Telling you to cover up just doesn’t feel right.”

“Will do boss. You’re one of the good ones Herb, remember that.”

I went to leave some money at the table to pay for my coffee but he stopped me.

“Please, it’s on me.”

I gave him a smile before sending a friendly wave to the barista that had served us. As I made it to the car, I pulled out my phone to check my messages. One from Frances.

Frances:

Don’t tell Hannibal yet, but I had a job interview today and I think it went really well.

Also, I hope your morning meeting went well, have a good day at work.

Also, Also, I can’t wait to see you tonight, or the look on Hannibal’s face ;)

I rolled my eyes at the last message. But I couldn’t help but smile down at my screen. I was used to them texting me everyday, but lately they’ve been more into it. It was sort of adorable, every morning I’d get some sort of good morning text. Around my lunch time, they would sneak little sticky notes into the lunched Hannibal packed that had some sort of corny joke on them. And a “drive safe <3” text when they knew I was about to drive home.

I think they grew bored with sitting around the house all day. After much convincing from both Hannibal and I, the finally agreed to take it easy. Take the time to fully recover from everything they’ve gone through. They hated to admit it, but there was still a lot of physical pain to heal from. And more importantly, mental. But they assured me sessions had been going well with Alana. And I could see the fruits of fruit hard work. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this happy. Other than when they were on the stage.

Meadow:

My lips are sealed. Meeting went well, Herb wants to meet you. I’ll give more details when you tell me all about this mystery interview later.

I’m off to work, today we’ll be discussing the Giraffe Weevils! Did you know they have them on display in the San Fransisco zoo? Perhaps we can convince Hannibal to take us one day.

Have a good day Darling, I’ll be home soon <3

I didn’t usually like to send emoticons in my messages, but Frances had difficulty reading tone. And besides, it was nice to reciprocate their energy, it made everything feel more casual. They always said I should stop writing my texts as if they were emails. And I think now I understood what they meant. I waited another moment before starting my car, and heard the familiar ding of my phone.

Frances:

Zoo!!!!

I chuckled. Of course that was the only part of that conversation they focused on. I set my phone down and drive to work. I was annoyed with my class for sure. It was entirely embarrassing to be called to your bosses office over something so trivial. But life goes on.

Class went by without any particular problems. It was nice that everything was easy today. No mess, no emergencies, just normal people stuff. And now I got to go home and see my beautiful fiancé and my best friend. And eat dinner and drink wine and not have a single cafe in the world. The perfect end to a mediocre day.

Hannibal greeted me at the door with a swift kiss.

“How was your day my love?”

“Good, it was nice Hannibal. We now have a wedding to go to though.”

“Oh?” He asked, leading me to the kitchen were he was finishing up the feast for his dinner party.

“My boss, he wants to have a proper wedding this time with his kids involved. He invited the three of us.”

“Sounds lovely My Dear.”

He kissed my forehead as I made my way around the counter to sit on the seat. He’d always playfully glare at Frances when they would forgo proper etiquette and hoist themselves up onto the counter top. I would always laugh because it never took him long to drop his frown. I didn’t realise a small chuckle passed my lips.

“And what are you so happy about over there?” He asked.

Oh he was definitely in a good mood today. Hannibal had what I would describe as pleasant moods. Almost as if he detail time in his schedule to have a nice moment. They were careful and calculated, and while sometimes organic, they still felt meticulously planned. Like he only allowed himself to be happy for so long, before he returned to being neutral. And don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed those moments. But this was so much better, to be privy to Hannibal’s natural and blinding smile was something I thanked god for. It was special.

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to see this side of you. You have a gift for making me feel loved and warm.” I said.

“Well I would hope my soon to be wife felt loved by me. I would be miserable at my job if I couldn’t even do that.”

A joke. A rare tease from the mouth of a man who was so stoic and apathetic. I couldn’t stop a grin from taking over my features, and frankly I didn’t want to.

“Oh, so I’m a job to you now hmmm?” I teased.

He made his was across the kitchen, leaning over the counter.

“I don’t hear you complaining whenever I say yes ma’am. And your heart skips a beat and you get that pathetic little look of admiration in those pretty eyes of yours.”

I could feel his breath on my cheek now. And I was certain they were as red as an apple by now.

“Doctor Lecter! Our guest will be here any minute.” I scolded.

“I could always send them away.” He said smoothly.

I had to bite my tongue to strangle the noise bubbling in my throat. Just then the door bell rang.

“You’re unbelievable.” I laughed.

It wasn’t Frances, they have a key. And I couldn’t help but wonder why they weren’t home yet. I sighed, putting on a smile and opening the door for our first guest. Jack and Alana, both always on time.

“Welcome you guys, please come in.” I greeted.

“Whatever Hannibal is cooking smells lovely.” Alana complimented.

“Doesn’t it always?” Jack added.

I let out a short laugh, leading them to the dinning room. One by one our guest for the evening rolled in, but still no Frances. I frowned, checking my phone under the table. Hannibal gently squeezed my hand and whispered in my ear.

“Where is Frances, Darling?” He gently asked.

I sighed.

“I’m sure they be here soon.”

Frances POV:

I raked a forceful hand through my hair. I was pissed, no I was beyond pissed. The audacity of that man, inviting me to an interview under false pretences. And now I was going to be late to dinner. This was bad. I felt awful, Hannibal hated it when people were late. And I was never late to anything. I chuckled at the joke I usually told about even being early to my own birth.

I adjusted my suit jacket in the bathroom and cleaned myself up before heading to my car. I used to just walk everywhere but Hannibal insisted upon buying me the thing. He even got it custom painted in my favourite colour as a surprise. I smiled fondly at the memory. As I wrapped my fingers around the wheel I noticed the faintest hint of a bruise blooming on my knuckles. Shit. Hannibal would definitely notice that.

I drove as quickly as possible to the house, fixing my hair and collecting myself before going in. The soft murmur of voicing was surprisingly calming. At least everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. I quickly made my way to the head of the table to greet Hannibal and apologise for my absence. I didn’t want him to be upset with me.

“Je suis terriblement désolé d'être en retard, Mon Amour, le temps m'a échappé.”

I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. I knew Hannibal wasn’t much for public displays of affection but it felt appropriate. And I’m as certain he’d think the same.

“Suis-je pardonné?”

I placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to give Meadow a kiss on her forehead as well as a silently apology for my tardiness. I noticed Hannibal’s eyes lingering on my hand and cursed under my breath. But quickly replaced a smile on my face. I swiftly moved to take my seat between Meadow and Will.

“Nous parlerons plus tard.” Hannibal offered.

“Of course, Darling.”

“You ok?” Will asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Just tried to get here as quick as I could.”

“I’m glad you could make it, Hannibal wouldn’t let us start without you.” Jack commented.

There was no malice in his words, just a playful dribble of banter. I sent him a small smile and rolled my eyes.

“We’ll please, don’t starve on my account.” I laughed.

The food Hannibal prepared was delicious as always. I didn’t realise how hungry I was until I took the first bite.

“So, Meadow, Hannibal tells me you’re a professor at the local university.” A man I’d never met before asked her.

I glanced over his appearance, it was clear he was trying to impress his host. But the smug look that never seemed to leave his face annoyed me. His body was tense, but not overly so. Like he was straining to make polite conversation.

“Oh, yes. I quite enjoy my job. I’m an Entomology professor.”

“Entomology?” He asked.

“They study bugs.” Will offered an answer.

“Wasn’t aware there was much to study there.” He commented flippantly.

My fork was firmly planted on my plate as I clenched my fists under the table and took a deep breath. How dare this stranger come into our house and be rude to my Meadow. But I had to remain civil, I’d already lost my cool once today. And being late didn’t put me in any favour with my beloved. I couldn’t mess this up, it was one dinner.

“Most scientific studies are actually quite impressive and require a great level of intellect, don’t you think?” I asked.

“I suppose so, I don’t believe we’ve been introduce yet. Frederick Chilton.” He offered.

“Frances.”

“Just Frances?” He challenged.

“Just Frances.”

Will gave a confused look from beside me. Probably thrown off by my unusual behaviour.

“I didn’t mean anything by my earlier statement Miss Meadow, I hope you take no offence. I was simply unaware of that branch of science.”

“It’s alright Mr. Chilton.” She shot me a warning look, “most people don’t put much thought into insects. They’re quite exquisite creatures, very important to our ecosystem.”

“I believe you.”

“Mosquitos cannot possibly be important.” Jack laughed.

“And that’s where you’re wrong Mr Crawford. They’re very important in the fertilisation of plants. Though I do suppose we could survive without them, no species relies solely on them for substance.”

“Like I said, not important.”

She laughed as his joke.

“I guess not.”

“Did you know the females only seek blood after they’ve laid their eggs? They require protein to recover.” I added to the conversation.

Meadow looked pleasantly surprised. I chuckled lightly.

“I do listen when you talk, Mon Coeur.”

“Are you from France?” Frederick asked.

I raised my eyebrow at him.

“Oui monsieur, I was moved to America by my previous dance company when I turned fifteen. Maintained my citizenship shortly after that. The United States immigration system is far more forgiving to children.”

“And what was that like?” Alana asked.

“What, moving?” I asked confused.

“No, living in France. Do you miss it?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Sometimes. I don’t remember most of it, stages look the same everywhere, you know?”

“Perhaps I should take you back to France again someday.”

Hannibal spoke up for the first time in a long time that night. He was often content with just listening, a side effect of his job I guess. His words were soft and sincere, at least he was content to be mad at me all evening.

“I would enjoy that very much.” I smiled at him.

“You’ve been to France before right Hannibal?” Alana asked him.

“Yes, a few times now actually. It’s nice there, very quiet.”

He was right, it was quiet. But I couldn’t really bring myself to miss it. What did I have there? Nothing. No one. And quiet got boring. But here, I was never bored. I had friends, and a family. The best partners I could ever have asked for, and I wasn’t even looking. I’m the grand scheme of all the bullshit in my life, they were more than worth it. They made me whole, the way I never thought I could be. I didn’t notice a small tear escape and roll down my cheek.

“You alright Frances?” Will asked once more that evening.

“Huh?”

I quickly wiped the tear from my cheek.

“Yeah, I think I just need a moment. Excuse me.”

I pushed my chair out from under than me and quickly sauntered over to one of our guest rooms. I felt stupid for crying. I hated crying. It was the absolute worst feeling in the world. Even if they were mostly happy tears. So then, why did I feel so awful right now? I heard a gentle knock on the door and was surprised to see Will. He peaked his head in through the door and when he saw no hesitation from me he entered, closing the door behind him.

“What, Hannibal couldn’t even leave his own dinner party?” I joked.

But it didn’t seem to land as his frown deepened.

“I’m worried about you.” He said.

“Don’t be.”

“I’m serious Frances.” He sat beside me on the bed. “You’re my best friend, and you deserve to be happy.”

“And how many times have I said that same thing to you, Mon Ami?”

“Une fois de trop.” He laughed.

It was nice that he and Hannibal could understand me. Meadow didn’t know much French yet but she was learning, and it meant everything to me. She was so cute when she stumbled over her words, and got all flustered after. William placed his hand on mine, making me turn to look at him.

“I’m just-“ I sighed, “I just love them so much, and I know it’s stupid-“

“That’s not stupid.”

“I’ve never loved anybody before William. And I guess I’m scared. We don’t exactly have the most traditional relationship.”

“You hate traditions.” He pointed out.

I laughed softly. He always knew how to make me feel better.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Punched some dumb asshole.”

The look of shock on his face was something to savour. It was hilarious.

“I gotta tell Hannibal but I’m afraid he’ll be upset with me. I was already late, and I keep thinking, what if this is it? What if he realises I’m too much to deal with and leaves me. I mean, why wouldn’t he? He has Meadow and she’s perfect. God, she’s so fucking perfect Will!”

I exasperatedly threw my hands up and fell backwards onto the bed. I hadn’t expected him to start laughing. Why the hell was he laughing? I shot back up and looked at him bewildered.

“Frances I swear, sometimes you are the dumbest person I know.”

“Gee, thanks.” I deadpanned.

“They fucking love you, everyone can see it. The way Meadow’s face lights up every-time you walk into a room. The way she leans in with a smile when you’re talking. And Hannibal, he keeps your favourite flowers in his office because he knows you’re allergic, but they make him smile every-time he looks at them. And he has a photo of the three of you proudly displayed in his desk. It’s the only piece of personal decor in that clinical room.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Frances nobodies leaving you. You think after everything we’ve all been through, you punching some idiot is gonna be the straw that breaks the camels back?”

“I guess that does sound kinda silly.” I sighed. “And Hannibal’s therapy is wearing off on you, you’re starting to sound like him.” I joked, nudging his shoulder.

“Don’t ever say that again.”

I raised my hands in mock surrender.

“Now, I know Frederick is another dumb asshole, but you think you can go back out there and not punch him in the face?”

“I don’t know, will be a pretty difficult task.”

“You’ve never met a task you couldn’t accomplish.”

I smiled.

“What would I do without you Will?”

“Oh you’d definitely be a total disaster.” He grinned.

“You’re lucky I love you.” I squinted.

I head him softly mutter a “yeah I am.”

The rest of the dinner went by smoothly. At least I knew if nobody had my back, Will did. Well him and Winston, that dog was the cutest thing on the damn planet. Will was the last to leave, lingering to make sure I was ok. I walked him to the door and bid him goodnight.

“You better give Winston and the others some love for me or else.”

“You spoil them too much.”

I scoffed.

“Says Mr I keep treats in my coat pocket in case I come across a new stray. Goodnight William.”

“Goodnight Frances.”

I slowly shuffled into the kitchen, knowing I had to get this over with. Hannibal was busy scrubbing dishes while Meadow dried them.

“I’m sorry I was late.” I started.

“It’s ok, we were just a little worried about you. You didn’t send me a text or anything.” Meadow said.

“Yeah sorry, got a bit caught up.”

“So you said.”

Shit, he sounded angry. I hated when he was angry.

“What happened to your hand?”

Of course there was concern, but his approach wasn’t nearly as gentle as Will’s. I fidgeted with my hands, but looked up when I heard the sink turn off. They were both looking at me now and I felt like a little kid.

“Does it hurt?” Meadow asked softly, breaking the tension a little.

I shook my head no.

“Ummm, I was at that job interview I was telling you about earlier.” I started.

Hannibal raised a brow, having never heard it mentioned until now. And I felt bad for that too. But I wanted to surprise him, I wanted it to be a good surprise. And now it just wasn’t.

“Oh, yeah, how did that go?” Her tone was a bit more cheerful.

“I got the job.” I said.

“That’s great, Frances, I’m so proud of you.”

“That doesn’t explain my question.”

I frowned. I knew he was upset but I figured if I delivered the good news first he’d at least be happy.

“Turns out, the interview wasn’t really meant to be an interview and now I feel stupid.” I mumbled.

All hardness dropped from his face and Meadow looked concerned. She came over to me, silently asking for permission if she could touch me, which I gratefully gave to her. She gently grabbed my hand, running her hands over the bruise.

“I’m sorry.” She stated simply.

It was sincere, earnest, now fluff to distract from its meaning. Which was something I loved so much about her. She didn’t surround herself with filler words with worthless meaning. If Meadow said something, you couldn’t help but believe it.

“What happened?”

It was still angry, but not at me. Which eased my nerves a little. I just stood there staring at my feet. I didn’t know how to explain what happened. I should have realised something was up.

“Frances, please.” He said softly.

I finally looked up at him and he looked defeated. It made my heart break.

“Umm, yeah.” God I cringed.

I sounded so weak and disoriented when I was upset. It’s like every word I ever knew flew from my head to fast for me to catch them.

“I was really excited when I got the phone call saying they were interested. But a few questions into the interview I realised he wasn’t really interested in an interview. You know I’m really bad about telling when people are flirting with me.”

“The interview was flirting with you?” And there was that anger again.

“But I promise I shut it down right away. I kept trying to dodge him until the interview was over but he kept pushing. He tried to kiss me when I went to leave, and I just sorta froze again. But then he started saying something about me not getting the job unless I gave him what he wanted and I lost it. So I punched him, god I’m so sorry Hannibal.”

I watched him take a shaky breath and prepared for him to yell at me, squeezing Meadow’s hand, but it never came.

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry you had to experience that.” Meadow said kindly.

She pulled me in for a hug.

“Why would you be sorry, Love?”

Hannibal said in a shaky breath.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked more evenly.

“No. After I punched him he called me a bitch. But I um, I told him that what he did was assault. And I may have mentioned that my best friend was in the FBI. So I guess I may or may not be blacking mailing my boss. But yay, new job right!” I tried to put on a smile.

“Absolutely not.” Hannibal seethed. “You’re not going anywhere near that man ever again.”

“Hannibal-“ Meadow tried.

“I said no. Frances there are other jobs, if I ever made you feel pressured to start working again that was not my intention.” He said honestly.

“Not jobs that I want. Hannibal I really really want this job. And I think it will be good for me. I can handle some perverted asshole. If I turned down a job every time someone tried to touch me I’d never have a job again.” I said dismissively.

Not of his feelings of course, more of my own. He had every right to be upset about the situation. We were engaged, I love him and somebody made me feel worthless and gross.

“Then you’re not getting a job.” He said.

“Darling, just please listen to them ok. You can be a little headstrong sometimes.”

“He tried to kiss them Meadow, does that not matter to you?”

I flinched a little at his tone. It was hard to remind myself that he wasn’t actually angry with either of us.

“Of course it does! How could you ask me that?”

Fuck, this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to start a fight. Maybe Will was wrong, maybe I shouldn’t be here. It was my fault they were arguing and I felt helpless against it.

“I want to go down there and kick this man where the sun doesn’t shine, but Frances is trying to talk to us. The least we can do is listen to their reasoning.”

He sighed and turned back to see me now shaking. The panic in his eyes didn’t make me feel any better. He took a step toward me, but I stepped back, hugging my arms around myself.

“Frances?” He tried.

“Please don’t fight because of me. I don’t want you to fight.” I said frantically.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice. Everything ok My Love, just breath for me alright?”

I nodded, taking a shaky deep breath. He waited for me to calm myself a little before stepping near me again. This time I didn’t move and he swiftly swept me into a bone crushing hug. He gentle caressed my head.

“Tell me about this job, yeah?” He asked softly.

“It’s a teaching position. I’ll be teaching a few different style of dance to children a couple days a week. And one adult class on Friday evenings.” I explained.

Meadow stayed back, just watching.

“And you’ll be happy doing this.”

“I really will.”

He sighed once more.

“Fine, but I’m dropping you off on your first day. I want to meet him.”

“No!” Meadow and I said in sync.

“Relax my loves, I’m not going to do anything. I just want him to know he can’t touch what’s mine.”

I giggled lightly at that. Meadow rolled her eyes.

“So jealous.” She teased playful.

“I’m not jealous Darling, that would mean I’m envious of something that man has, which is highly unlikely. Jealousy is beneath me.”

“You keep telling yourself that buddy.”

I gently tapped on his chest twice, and he raised a brow looking down at me.

“You two are going to be the death of me, you know that right?” He asked.

Meadow joined in on the hug, crushing me between them.

“Oh no, dying surrounded by love and adoration, I feel so sorry for you.”

Her sarcasm was contagious. Hannibal rolled his eyes.

“Do me a favour,” Hannibal started.

“Yes, anything.” I said, smiling up at him.

“Next time you feel like you have to punch something, call me. I don’t want you damaging that pretty skin of yours.” He said smoothly.

He placed a gentle kiss on my knuckle and I giggled once more.

“Always the gentleman.” I teased.

“Are you alright from earlier?” He asked, referring to dinner.

“Yeah, William and I had a good chat. He’s good people Hannibal, please don’t ruin him.”

“I’m not ruining anybody, Darling, at least not anyone who didn’t deserve it. William is my friend.”

Such a simple answer. But I could tell he meant it.

“Thank you.”

I leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“I don’t know about the two of you, but all this arguing made me tired.” Meadow grinned, before sprinting off to the bedroom.

I followed quickly after her, trying to beat her to the bed. It was chidlinsh, but maybe that what we needed at a time like this. By the time Hannibal made it to the room, the two of us were nearly in a pillow fight. He chuckled softly leaning against the door frame. He cleared his throat, gaining our attention.

“Oh, and Frances… if your boss ever so much as looks at you wrong again, we’re having him for dinner.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

An: This all takes place before they were ever married still. Also I picked one of my special interests for Meadow’s career so then I can write more accurately about it. Can’t get in the mindset of a super smart college professor if you don’t know anything about the subject they’re supposed to be an expert in.

#Hannibal spouses #Hannibal #hannibal imagine #Hannibal x oc #Hannibal x reader #Hannibal lecter #meadow lecter #Frances lecter #alana bloom #Freddie Lounds #frederick chilton

[fruit-salad-ship]

I got covid and scrolling through this blog has been making me feel better!

Any ideas how the trio reacts if one of them gets sick (only if you feel like it, i know you are very busy)

Thank you!

Buddy nooo, sorry to hear you got covid, really hope it clears up soon for you!

Getting sick is all good and well, until peach gets sick.

The other two are normal humans, they get sick, they take time off. Grey will book a day out, recover in peace, and his girls often will stop in to see how he’s doing, peach will make him snacks and stuff for the day, plum will keep him company when he’s stuck in bed. If plum gets sick, the other two are subject to her whining. She’ll complain a lot, even if it’s not that bad, which the professors tolerate surprisingly well, even peach. Her inner doctor comes out and she lets plum complain about the inconvenience of a minor issue because he’ll, she’s sick, whatever. She doesn’t like the taste of most medicines, and is bad at taking pills, so getting her to take any is like getting blood out of a stone. Peach will actively pin her to get cold and flu meds in the idiot. Grey will baby her afterwards because she complains about peach being so rough when she’s sick. The professor does not care, the only important thing is getting her better no matter the cost, and that happens far slower and often not at all, if she doesn’t go through a full course of medicine. Sometimes they have to exchange favours for plum to do what they ask, which is less physically demanding…most of the time. There’s a number of ways to convince/push her to recover, but often it’s a long winded process.

Then there’s peach. Ok sure, she’ll take the medicine, she’ll jump through the hoops to appear perfectly fine, she’ll comply with requests if you ask to see how she’s doing. BUT she will not stop working. She loathes staying in bed, hates sitting around at home, is not built for the inconvenience of sickness, the resting, the doing little to nothing, the hanging around. She’s impatient, and has a lot of her plate, too much to just stop. She will often hide she is sick from the others, and truck on as best as possible, avoiding contact with people, doing the outdoor work to stay in fresh air.

One time they found her out in the fields unconscious because she totally ignored a fever that persistently got worse. Whenever they catch her sick, they’ve got to find ways to fight her to get her staying inside, in bed, resting. Luckily she’s weakened from illness, otherwise they’d never get her to recover. Plum is by far the biggest nag, she hits the situation with hostility, popping round to the house whenever possible, telling peach off for getting up to sort the washing out, or organise the overlooked home office that’s a mess. Grey handles things in a gentler way, worried she’ll over do it, asking her to ‘please just do this for me’ which makes peach feel a little responsible, and she tries to relax.

Unfortunately she will push until she literally can’t anymore.

Had this doodled from a long time ago, but here, it feels on topic.

Get better soon!

#fruit salad #brainrot

[secretgamergirl]

Just a Reminder - You Don’t Win a Prize if Nazis Hate You the Most.

When I run down my tumblr feed, about once every day or two I see a chain of posts being shared by people I like which are kinda just a big back and forth shouting match starting from a post saying either “as a Jew, I hate seeing trans people talking about being Holocaust victims too” or “trans women aren’t threatened by transphobes as much as trans men!” and... these are just the absolute worst fights to try and pick. Stop doing this.

Presumably there’s other variations on this going on and I’ll condemn all those too, it’s just these two, specifically, are the ones I just keep seeing crop up, so they’re what I’m gonna highlight for now.

So, the holocaust. Pretty sure we all agree that the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft public book burning is one of the more powerful images to demonstrate why Nazis need to be completely eradicated that does not feature a pile of corpses. I also don’t think anyone is in disagreement that Magnus Hirschfield, who ran said institute was a Jew, nor that the bulk of his staff and the subject matter of these original research journals were Pretty Darn Trans.

I DO see people though making really damn stupid arguments though like, “right, they burned his books because he was a Jew, it had nothing to do with their contents,” and that’s just factually untrue. There is a truckload of solid documentation about Nazis having stupid conspiracy theories and pseudoscience to justify genocide against, in no particular order, Jewish, Romani, Black, queer, and disabled people. Also Jehovah’s Witnesses. Lot of wild crap explicitly connecting these too, case in point, they claim trans people in particular and queer people broadly are monsters created by Jewish doctors to infiltrate society and throw a wrench into the ability of physically and mentally perfect white men to have white women barefoot and perpetually pregnant in the kitchen popping out enough babies to maintain a huge majority and not be overtaken by all those subhuman other races. It’s all a bundle deal. Any of these type of people the hate have the height justified with their role in this grand sinister conspiracy.

And even if that WEREN’T true, and it really was that Nazis hate Jews and only Jews and all these other people they keep trying to completely exterminate are collateral damage from plans to take out specific Jews that had some really bad scope creep and splash damage, they’ve still got the body count. That’s still part of the Holocaust and denying those deaths is messed up for the same reasons as every other weird claim bigots make (and to be clear, there is no non-bigoted reason to be doing this) to minimize the Holocaust, but also, rather crucially, please note that I keep speaking in the first person. We still have Nazis, they’re still hell bent on killing all these same groups of people, they’ve been doing a pretty good job lately of getting the sort of power needed to act on it, and they’ve been acting on it. If you’re in one of these groups, you should really be focused on getting rid of the Nazis and not whatever the hell this historical revisionist dick measuring crap is.

Meanwhile on the trans infighting front, the way society at large hyperfixates on weird stereotypes and propaganda vaguely trans-woman-shaped far right boogiemen is Pretty Damn Bad. It’s terrible for trans women because there’s this significant portion of the population trying to identify, locate, and murder us. It’s terrible for trans men because the messed up discriminatory crap targeting them specifically gets basically zero public attention except in those weird cases where it gets bafflingly twisted into something about trans women (I’ve seriously seen like... anti-abortion and transphobic pregnancy-related-legal-language stuff pushed with weird scaremongering about trans women “wanting changes in language to not say mothers” so that we can waste doctors time LARPing abortion procedures or some weird crap like that). It’s terrible for nonbinary people because all the weird polarization messes with basic scientific understanding and some transition care gets screwed by people trying to make really ironclad policies. Heck it sucks for cis women who fit whatever weird profile the people trying to murder us apply, and men whose commitment to masculine presentation is insufficient to avoid suspicient of being Infected.

There’s something of a problem with those conversations also getting bogged down in weird unproductive nonsense where someone points out how they deal with some form of transphobic discrimination like it isn’t something everyone involved isn’t also dealing with too of course, but the real big problem I have with these has nothing to do with all the arguing in the comments it’s the fact that the comments keep ending up attached to overt anti-trans propaganda pieces where someone missed big ol’ dog whistles and misinterpret people’s efforts to point them out. Like, this is how this big long post I have all over my feed tonight starts off:

“can we stop the belief that terfs hate transfems exclusively or like more than they hate cisgender men or transmascs...”

There is of course more to that sentence and another six paragraphs and all, but there are zero reasons I can think of to type the above that aren’t “I would like to obfuscate the motivations of fascists and minimize the hell out of the whole actual freaking extermination effort targeting trans women right now,” so from where I sit, there’s no value in reading any further. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. I’m assuming everyone I see sharing this missed that or they’re doing that weird tumblr thing where you quote the whole real bad take/conversation because you want to share your agreement with like the 10th reblog-nest point but like, you’re still spreading this “trans women are men” dog whistle without so much as calling it out. Gotta be careful about that. Fascists on this site do a way better job of Trojan Horse-ing that sort of crap. Not necessarily saying that’s the case here, but... for real what other reason is there to type something like that?

Anyway, again, even if the whole thing is in good faith, the framing is decidedly framed in this antagonistic transmasc vs. transfem sort of way and like, that is not a fight that is actually happening anywhere. There’s just Nazis trying to kill all of us, let’s focus on that in a productive and broad coalition building sort of way?

#fascist divide and conquer crap #nazis

[rubykgrant]

(beginning of the Wash interview with Andrews~)

Andrews noticed that when it was Wash’s turn, he entered with a note of laughter in his voice; evidently having some conversation outside of the interview room with his friends, which had clearly been amusing. She wondered just what it could be...

“Sounds like the rest of the gang are being their usual charming selves out there,”

“Yeah, haha, yeah- Simmons and Doc have been doing this thing where they say I need a password to get in a room, and there isn’t an actual password, so they try to block the door-” Wash began to explain.

“Wait, they were trying to stop you from coming?” she asked, suddenly confused and worried.

“No, I mean, not REALLY. It’s their way of teasing me about the- um, the time I was a little bit extreme… and sort of being everybody’s problem…” Wash sounded somewhat sheepish now, but not especially unhappy.

“Oh. You mean the incident with you and… the former Agent Maine and the Meta, trying to locate Epsilon,” Andrews finished. She hoped she had described it properly, not too blunt.

“Mm-hmm. The guys call that my ‘Villain Moment’. The thing is, they’ve sort of been avoiding the subject for- a couple years, wow, and so have I. When Simmons and Doc started teasing me, it wasn’t because they were suddenly mad at me all over again, it was because they’re not AFRAID of me anymore. I mean, these guys spent a long time together in a canyon trying to shoot at each other, remember?” Andrews nodded as Wash paused. “Right, and they treat that whole thing like it was just a funny misunderstanding, and they still joke about Red Team VS Blue Team, even though it doesn’t matter. So, they tell me I need a password for the bathroom or the kitchen, and say ‘access denied’ when I don’t know it, then I just shove my way though, and we laugh about it. They even check with me and make sure I’m OK with it, so they don’t go too far, y’know?”

“That’s good. And you’re right, it sounds like they aren’t trying to be mean. Especially if they’re actually being considerate about how it makes you feel,” Andrews  said.

“Honestly, I think we’re all trying to be more considerate about… certain subjects. It’s just hard for some of us to admit that,” Wash tipped his helmet to one side, nodding in the general direction outside the room.

“Ah. Perhaps some people, who are used to giving orders and insults on a regular basis, find it difficult to try a softer touch?” she gave a small nod herself; same direction. Same implied person.

“It is really REALLY hard for him to back off Grif and the Blues. But he’s trying. Like I said, we all are. Besides, teasing me about non-existent passwords is small potatoes. Tucker warned me that Simmons can actually be VERY petty and vindictive, I’m lucky he never tried to retaliate back when I was still kind of fresh from my Villain Moment. Also, Doc might call himself a pacifist, but he knows exactly how to annoy me, I kept getting tricked into distracting conversations with him DURING the Villain Moment. Now we’re actually friends, and they’re definitely not afraid of me any more, so this is weirdly their way of forgiving me… and Carolina thinks it’s SO funny to watch them bully me, she just laughs and laughs, like it’s- oh, wait! I almost forgot!”

Wash suddenly stood up and rushed back over to the door. He opened it, stuck his head and one arm through, said something to the others out there, and then returned to his seat in front of Andrews; now holding a folder full of various pages. Some of them looked like printed copies, official documents and records… but most of it was hand-written notes, some scribbled on lined paper, as if from a journal.

“I’ve been making notes of all the things I wanted to tell you about! Like, like Triplets, and being split-up on Chorus, and figuring out I was in a paradox, all that, I didn’t want to forget anything- I’ve got some pretty good meds now that help me stay in the moment, but sometimes I lose my train of thought or get a little confused about the order of certain events, like the other day I almost thought I had Epsilon with me longer during Project Freelancer, but I was combining the memories I spent with him looking for the Director and when he came back on Chorus, and it was WEIRD because in my head it was totally different than what actually happened, but it seemed to make sense because I knew that I knew Epsilon, but it wasn’t during Freelancer- dang it! See, this is why I need to focus!” Wash took a deep breath, seemed to gather his thoughts internally, and then began speaking calmly. In fact, he now had an almost analytical tone (the opposite of hint of laughter he started with).

“When I mentioned Carolina thinking it was funny, watching the guys tease me- that’s because it’s a little like how things were during Project Freelancer. I have a lot of things I want to talk about, what it’s been like making friends with the Reds and Blues, losing the friends I had before, What happened with Epsilon, Maine, and the Meta, what they all mean to me… but I really want to begin with things that happened during Project Freelancer,”

#red vs blue #rvb #rvb fic

[bitebackbaby]

“to walk the gale” & “and the universe said” for the fic ask :)

ooooh, heck yeah!! let’s start with “to walk the gale” – this is a long fic that ive hinted at before, because it’s my ‘fox as krell’s commander’ fic!! fox, my beloved… you deserve the world! and by that i mean i must break you.

in this fic, fox is assigned as general krell’s commander and basically goes from “okay, i can make this work” to “This Will Work (loads blaster)” in the first three months lol. this one has a heck of a lot of whump, given the subject matter, but it will be counteracted by the comfort that is to come :’)

this fic is set to be ten chapters long!! here’s a quick snippet! :)

“I think he’s trying to kill us,” Parasite says grimly.

Fox grunts, pressing a hand against the wound on his side. “He’s a natborn. What else is new?”

Parasite swallows, looks away. He drags out the medkit, begins sorting through their meager supplies. There’s a hint of frustration in his eyes, and Fox doesn’t blame him. Parasite wasn’t trained in more than basic CPR, just like the rest of the basic troopers, but he’s kind and giving and has a warm bedside manner, so with all the medics… gone, he’s the best they’ve got.

But it’s not fair. And Parasite is right to be angry.

Fox just can’t bring himself to think about it too deeply, not yet.

He knows what he’ll find, in those murky depths – and it’s nothing good.

title (& chapter titles) comes from this quote from the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett; “All witches are selfish, the Queen had said. But Tiffany’s Third Thoughts said: Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours! Protect them! Save them! Bring them into the sheepfold! Walk the gale for them! Keep away the wolf! My dreams! My brother! My family! My land! My world! How dare you try to take these things, because they are mine!

I have a duty!”

NOW!! “and the universe said” is far more au than most of my wips, as it takes place in a different reality entirely. well… kinda.

have you ever played the game Spiritfarer? boom. there it is. (if you haven’t, i seriously recommend it!!) but to go into a bit more detail; in this au, fox acts as a guide for lost souls who need to pass on to the afterlife. they are all the spirits of people that he once knew when they were alive, and they all have something different to teach him. as fox slowly walks them through the path to acceptance and moving on, he learns a bit more about himself too. :)

obviously, this is a story that deals heavily with death & grief, but much like the game that inspired it, my hope is that this story will bring more comfort than hurt <3

this wip is set to be twelve chapters long. here’s a quick snippet! :)

Fox opens his eyes slowly. Above him, the ceiling is swaying in time with the waves, his hammock rocking gently back and forth.

On his nightstand, the Guiding Light is glowing softly, an ever-present warmth that draws him in like a flower reaching for the sun, and he carefully picks it up, cradling it between his hands.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, and presses his forehead to the Light for a brief moment, before pulling away.

He can hear the sound of footsteps out on the deck. Seems like one of his passengers is awake already.

“Time to report for duty,” Fox mutters to himself, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. He throws his legs and over the side of the hammock and jumps down.

With the Guiding Light strapped to his belt, Fox prepares for another day.

title (&chapter titles) come from the minecraft end poem ;)

#oztalk #oztalk: to walk the gale #oztalk: and the universe said

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

What are some of Maurice's courting his crush moves, both before and after his exposure?

oh my Goddddd I wrote WAY too much because I love Maurice, OOPS-

Before he’s exposed, people just sort of… fall at his feet. Isn’t his inherent charm enough without him having to make a move in the first place? He’s got his pick of who he wants to go with, because everyone wants him. After all, who wouldn’t want to make time with the most beautiful gentleman on campus? The one exception is, apparently, the person he manages to catch feelings for. Some call it irony; Maurice calls it frustrating.

He’s incredibly unpracticed in trying to actually court someone. Not only is he gorgeous, he’s well-born. For most of his romantic life, his beauty and gentility have sort of done the job for him, so he’s very used to people simply being naturally attracted to him. Once they’re interested, he just keeps them there with things like gossip. (And he knows it all, so friends and the like are always clamoring at him to find out who likes who and what scandals have gone down recently and what’s what with fashion.) To find that he has to pull out something more than that, he feels like he’s in trouble.

That’s not to say he can’t do it, of course. He reeled Joanne in by acting sweet, but… Joanne was a special case in that he was lonely and desperate already. If the person Maurice has feelings for isn’t, then he has to work a bit harder. He can’t just give them a smile and compliment their outfit and think that’s all there is to it. Even though he can accomplish more than that, he’s not exactly used to hard work.

His most reliable tactic is to have his network of friends gather information for him that he can use. “You know (Name), don’t you? Where do they go after classes? Are they in the library often? The gardens? What’s their favorite subject? Well, if you don’t know, go find out for me, please.” It’s a safe bet that someone in his friend group will be familiar with his crush, or more likely multiple friends will know them. So he learns everything he can to find out what kinds of things they’re into, whether it’s reading or sewing or science or, well, anything.

Once he has information, it’s only a matter of chatting with other friends to figure how to best apply that knowledge. If they enjoy reading, for example, he’ll show up in the library acting quite lost, asking them if they’ve read this book before because he has to do a report on it. The excuse for interaction is entirely fabricated, (in this case, he undoubtedly doesn’t have a report to do), but he’s hoping that whatever conversation comes of it will be genuine.

Other than that, he does things he thinks of as ‘thoughtful’. He gives (Name) flowers or candy, invites them on walks, sends them romantic letters… anything you could really think of that someone might do to show their interest in someone, he does. Thanks to his gentility, he’s got access to a rather generous allowance from his parents, so he really is able to spoil the object of his affections. Mainly that kind of thing is to ensure that he has as little competition as possible, because not everyone is capable of doing that.

After he’s exposed, it becomes more difficult for him to make any moves at all, quite honestly. The fact that Edgar broke off their friendship is bad enough, because for as manipulative and mean as Maurice can be, as many friends as he thinks he has, Edgar was the only one he really felt was a true friend. Not having Edgar in his life is devastating, and makes him feel very alone, to the point he’s not interested in making new friends at all. Going along with it, though, is the fact that now everyone knows Maurice has been using makeup to cover his average features. It’s made him a target of mockery so much so that he usually keeps his head down on campus, even once the initial teasing has faded away. His grades have obviously suffered, meaning his father is furious with him. Every aspect of his life is just terrible now. He’s lost all his friends, his good marks in class, and the approval of his father. All he really has now is this little spark that pops up in his chest when he sees (Name).

He’s gotten quite shy and has trouble connecting with other people now. Following all the weeks of cruel comments and snickers aimed his way upon going out without his makeup, he no longer feels like he’s worth any attention. He’s just trying to get through days without being teased again, so he’s quiet and unobtrusive nowadays despite the storm of awful feelings he’s carrying round. That said… his crush may well catch him staring at them. Maybe pretending he’s gazing into space whilst thinking, or maybe with his eyes peeking over the top of a book. It’s like he doesn’t know what to do about his feelings anymore except admire (Name) from afar.

If he manages to get the courage up, he may approach them in the most casual way he can possibly think of. Maybe they’re sitting in the gazebo reading, so he gathers all his nerves up and goes in, asking if it’s alright for him to sit here. His heart is hammering away the whole time as he tries to focus on whatever work he’s trying to do, but he does sneak glances at them. Finally they’ll have to be the one to speak up; “… It’s Maurice, right? Your hair looks nice today.” And it shocks him, because their tone is sincere unlike all the mocking he’s endured about his appearance. He’s scarcely able to stammer out a thank you before they ask about what he’s working on, and then it doesn’t take too long for the conversation to become comfortable, natural… real.

He does his best to take cues from what he did before, except he doesn’t want to give (Name) shallow, meaningless gestures. So when he gives them flowers, he picks their favorite instead of defaulting to whatever’s most popular, and he gives them one or two instead of a bouquet. The walks he invites them on are through places both of them enjoy rather than him just deciding where they’re going to go. And any letters he writes for them don’t steal lines from flirtation cards ― they’re written from his own thoughts and feelings. He tries not to go overboard, mainly because anyone he did big things for before isn’t around now. He’s realized that, much to his disappointment, buying love doesn’t work.

Even though it’s a struggle for him after his exposure, he starts to think it’s… worth all the effort. It’s better this way. He doesn’t have to worry about what (Name) will think of his real face, because he’s not hiding it anymore. He doesn’t have to doubt why they stick around him, because he’s not giving them material rewards for being with him. Oh, and one thing he isn’t going to miss? The self-conscious horror that comes with pulling away from a kiss only to see he’s left a lipstick print behind. He’s much shyer now, but… he’s almost happier trying to win someone’s affection the old-fashioned way.

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Maurice #Maurice Cole #headcanons #romantic #drama #fluff #I love him SOOOO MUUUUUUUCH #one hell of a queue