#who am i kidding all of the songs are my favs

[zafetycar]

what i was made for - LN4

⭐︎ lando norris & singer!female!reader - social media au

⭐︎ one in which lando norris' partner gets nominated for an oscar for "best original song"

⭐︎ warnings: ⏀

⭐︎ word count: ⏀

next part ⭐︎

--- --- --- --- ---

yourusername

liked by landonorris, barbiethemovie, icespice and others

tagged: barbiethemovie, landonorris

yourusername i am so grateful for greta, for margot, for this movie and for all of you who went to see in it theaters and who loved it as much as i did

thank you for liking "what was I made for" so much, it's a piece i'm very attached to. also sorry it made you cry that much haha. it was the point.

thank you everyone, so much

love <3

view all comments

barbiethemovie 🩷🩷🩷

user1 I didn't cry I BAWLED MY EYES OUT LISTENING TO THIS SONG😭😭😭

user2 mother is mothering

maxverstappen kelly and I went to see the movie, it was amazing to hear your song! congrats!

liked by yourusername

danielricciardo thank you for making music in the only intent to break us to pieces

liked by yourusername

⌞user3 she out here killing us

lilymhe best barbie ever 💅

⌞yourusername it's you🫶

dualipa amazing to share this experience you babe 💖

liked by yourusername

landonorris added to their story

seen by 958,332

yourusername added to their story

seen by 3,132,441

landonorris added to their story

seen by 1,521,779

tagged: yourusername

text: "to say I'm proud is an understatement. I love you darlin', you are such an incredible woman"

barbiethemovie

liked by dualipa, theacademy, yourusername, taylorswift and others

tagged: yourusername

barbiethemovie we are so incredibly honoured that yourusername has been nominated by theacademy for best original score with her heart-shattering song "what was I made for" !

thank you so much yourusername for creating this beautiful piece to complete this movie !

view all comments

user4 OMG OMG I love this song so much im so happy she deserves it🧡

user5 ugh not her again

⌞user6 lmao get tf outta here

yourusername 🩷

⌞user7 MOTHER

⌞yourusername kid

⌞user7 OMFG

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, maxfewtrell, yourusername and others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris not a day goes by in which you don't amaze me darlin'

you are such an incredible, amazing woman. and you make me laugh more than maxfewtrell which is odd as much as it is amazing. I love you more than your favourite love song could describe it.

congratulation on your oscar nomination (I mean not the first one so who's really surprised but), you deserve it so much. can't wait to see you create more "crying, throwing up, ripping my hair off" pieces!

can't wait to celebrate with you all night tonight (please hurry up I've been waiting for you all day I can't hold on any longer)

view all comments

user8 my fav driver and my fav singer ✨

yourusername thank you love 🤍

liked by landonorris

yourusername i sent you pictures did you not see them ?

⌞landonorris I did not see them

⌞yourusername check your msg

⌞landonorris fucking hell baby

liked by yourusername

⌞user9 rue what is this

oscarpiastri you do know this conversation isn't private right ?

⌞landonorris yes and ?

⌞danielricciardo oscarpiastri i've tried before it's no use

yourusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, sza, landonorris and others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername london, what a night !!! thank you thank you thank you so much for celebrating the nomination with me !!! this is all thanks to you ! thanks for setting the room on fire, looking forward to do this again ❤️‍🔥

madrid, better get ready ;)

thanks landonorris for the cool pics you took (you look hot af all sweaty), thank you for your support (especially when i'm too tired to ride) and your love (gimme the physical now please), thank you for everything <3

view all comments

francisca.cgomes such an icon

liked by yourusername

user10 estamos listos !!!

liked by yourusername

user11 apparently she sang wwimf ???

⌞user12 yes she did omg we got a surprise song

landonorris what a show babe (come take a shower with me please)

liked by yourusername

user13 YESSSSS OMG best moment of my life I heard wwimf live !!!🩷

user14 getting to hear what was I made for live was my therapy 🥹

⌞user15 bro it broke me even more

lewishamilton thanks for the invite, I had an amazing time ! bless you queen 🩵

liked by yourusername

carlossainz55 can't wait to see you in madrid rockstar💃 !!!

liked by yourusername

user16 QUEEN

user17 is nobody gonna talk about how they just basically have sex on social media ??

liked by yourusername

liked by landonorris

ps: this is my very first time creating a social media au, i hope i did it good, if you have any tips let me know !

note: hi! thank you for reading this piece, i hope you enjoyed it ! feedback is very much welcomed :) see you around ★

#lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris smau #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 x you #lando norris imagine #divider by cafekitsune #zafetycar

[dynsdiary]

━━ my pov of ellie iii

warnings : use of yn, lowkey self inserted uhh, using spotify cause the blend thingy but PLEASE BOYCOTT SPOTIFY GUYS !!!

cr : @idontgetanysleep & pinterest for the pics

ellie's taglist (lmk if u wanna be add / remove) : @ellstronaut , @dinaissoprettyoml , @julienology , @euphternal , @sapphhicslut

also chat, boop me !!

part i ⟶ part ii

DAILY CLICK

DONT BUY TLOU

WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE

⭐️ she’s the type of person who is not into pda that much (but you guys still do pda like holding hands/hand on waist or shoulder & some kisses here n there) BUT SHE LOVE YOU LOUD & PROUDLY!! 🍮 all of her social media bios would be something like “taken by @yourtag” or “e + your initial : ♡” or “i love my wife” KNOWING DAMN WELL YALL ARE NOT MARRY (yet… 😏) 🕯️ her page would be filled with your pictures / something that has you in it. and would caption like “she saw it first” or “yn chose it for me” like okay we get it ellie 🙄✋

⭐️ GUYS HEAR ME OUT!!!! she’s the type that would wait for you to get ready and be like “oh it's okay, i can wait. just make sure to be safe & look pretty f’me” LIKE HIHIRHEUDBSOANA 🍮 would let you do her hair (tiny braids !!!) 🕯️ she so corny guys i just know it

⭐️ omg few months or maybe even weeks of you two talking she would be asking you if you have spotify (boycott spotify guys!!) and ask you if you wanna do a blend, she just wanna know you better through your music taste 🍮 WOULD TOTALLY FREAK OUT WHEN THE RESULTS ARE ABOVE 80 “she’s my soulmate, i knew it” and do hand YES! gesture thingy (pls know what im saying (◞‸◟) ) 🕯️ why, just why, her gf had to live 34764482939 away from her!! (ellie is being dramatic but so real)

⭐️ WOULD LEARN YOUR FAV SONGS TO PLAY ON HER GUITAR AND SENT YOU VIDEOS OF HER PLAYING IT AND BE LIKE “for you, baby” or post it on her story and captioned (?) “for my girl @yourtag” 🍮 i know she makes a lot of playlists for you. started when you were her crush, then you were in the talking stage with her, then the two of you dating, then songs that reminded her of you

🕯️ SHE WOULD SING TO CLAIRO's SONGS WITH YOUU AND DANCING AROUND IN THE KITCHEN OR 3 AM TO THE SMITHS OMGOMG

⭐️ her home & lock screen is your picture, it doesn’t matter if the pictures of both of you tgt or just you. 🍮 matching stuff with you LIKE HELLO YES SHE LOVE IT !!!! immediately drop everything when you ask her if she wanna matches w you, per examples :

🕯️ she just a biggest simp ever!!! ⭐️ loveee calling you especially facetime, she just adore looking at your pretty face, your sweet smile & listen to your cute laughs every time ellie cracks a joke. 🍮 would cut & peel fruits for you, and you do it to her as well 🕯️ text you in 3 in the morning for her & you scolding her for not sleeping

⭐️ blurts out i love you one time and since then she just wont stop saying how much she loves you 🍮 since you guys are in ldr :(, ellie had to give you gifts & all that by giving you a package but the good thing is that you can keep the letters she wrote for you and the drawing she gave you as well !! 🕯️ HER FRICKING JOURNAL IS FULL WITH YOU..... not kidding...and some sweet details that she had noticed about you

⭐️ always tweeting how she wished she's with you and would diff tweet something like " 'if she wanted, she would', then WHY IS SHE NOT TELEPORTING HERE, NEXT TO ME, LAYIN ON MY ARM, WHYYY" (this is so me coded lol)

🍮 omg would do streaks with you to update abt each other's day and also locket

🕯️ timezone sucks so be ready to be wake to 99+ tiktoks ellie had sent you while you were sleeping. (you did the same thing too)

⭐️ movie night every friday !!

🍮 few years of ldr and both you & ellie had decided to moved in together

🕯️ would surprise you once in awhile and vice versa

⭐️ girly would treat the teddy bear that you gifted her like its her CHILD (it is)

🍮 ellie who loves you very dearly

🕯️ ellie is your girlfriend & also now, your roommate (hehe hinted)

REMINDER !!

that neil is a zionist and therefore dont buy his games, doesnt matter remastered or not !!!

before you leave, have you DONATE TO PALESTINE today? ITS FREE TOO !!

#written by dayana ❦ #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

[ih34rt-alphatxuri]

Read Your Diary

table of contents/pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: he needed to find a way to get inside of her, for ever and ever and ever.

warnings: obsessive behaviour, emotional manipulation, borderline stalking and an overall toxic dynamic with an oblivious Y/N, use of explicit language, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids), p in v, breeding kink if you squint. I absolutely do not condone any form of emotional manipulation or toxic relationships. This is a work of fiction and most definitely not a reflection of this person's real actions or personality.

message from A☆: Hey !! So recently I've been reading a lot of dark fics so I wanted to try and write one of my own. This fic has the same structure as Chewing Cotton Wool, and this (Read Your Diary) is one of my fav Måneskin songs, and I put A LOT of effort into it. Btw, I didn't use the whole song ! I only used the lyrics that I felt resonated with the storyline I wanted. (I fully went in and edited the smut part I AM SORRYYY) I hope you enjoy...

P.S, try and spot the song references throughout the fic !!

Brought you some roses, you didn't take them So I shed a tear

He was just trying to be nice. That's what Y/N thought. She'd been working as Christian Horner's secretary for only a couple months now, and his star driver had quickly taken a liking to her. But who could blame him? She was young, a few years younger than him, and absolutely gorgeous. Max would send her a bouquet if her favorite flowers every single race weekend, and in the beginning she'd never take them. How did he know what her favorite flowers were? He had his ways...but she always refused them. Little did she know, Max was watching from down the hall, sometimes he'd shed a few tears over it. After what was probably the millionth time he'd left her flowers, she finally took them. She figured he was just trying to be nice, make her feel welcomed, that's what she kept telling herself. And in that moment it was like something snapped in Max's head: he had to have Y/N, and when he did he'd keep her forever and ever and ever.

Pouring some champagne over your panties So that we can cheers

They were at a party after the race, she was getting absolutely shit-faced drunk. Y/N was wearing a short, sparkly party dress, the light catching every fleck of glitter as she moved. She danced the night away, downing drink after drink. That's when she bumped into Max, his glass of champagne pouring all over the front of her dress.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry schatje (little treasure)...let me help you." Max grabbed a napkin, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in closer to wipe her off. He knew this was a bit risky, but Y/N wasn't refusing his touch.

"Maxie...hi!" She giggled drunkenly leaning into his touch. This was perfect. Max tried his best to wipe her off, but her dress was still sticky with the fizzy fluid.

"Y/N, darling, you should get changed...your dress is in no condition to stay on your body." He smoothed her hair over with one hand, looking into her eyes as she spoke.

"No, im fine Maxie!" She whined. She clearly wasn't, and Max wasn't going to skip out on the chance to be her knight in shining armour; even if in reality he was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Counting the hours, counting the seconds 'Till I can feel your bones

"Oh, but Y/N, liefje (darling), you're too drunk to think straight." His tone had the slightest hint of mockery, but she was too drunk to tell.

"No, Max...I'm perfectly fine to be alone.'' She spoke between hiccups, trying not to stumble over herself as Max led her back to her room.

"No you're not, come on...let me take care of you." There was a certain darkness in his eyes as he spoke. As he led her into her hotel room he had an almost malicious smirk on his face. He didn't want to take advantage of her though, even if he was counting the hours until he could feel her bones beside him. All he wanted was a chance to get closer to her, to get inside her head.

Dance in your shoes, read your diary to Get inside of you, you, you

This was Max's chance. As she peacefully slept he got up and began to go through her things. Her suitcase, her clothes, her purse, everything he could find. That's when he found it: Y/N's diary. He flipped through the pages, taking photos, drowning himself in her words. He knew it was wrong to read her diary, but this was perfect. It was all her emotions, written out in front of him. This was the way, he thought, the way to get to her. Infect her with his love, rot her mind with his sugary sweet lies. He needed her in the palm of his hand.

Forever and ever and ever.

I'm not a coward, I'm not a hero But I can be your toy I'll be the pill that you wanna swallow When you're looking for the joy

Reading her diary had been like dissecting her brain, he learned everything about her. What she liked, what he hated, the things that made her weak in the knees and swoon, and the things that turned her off. He knew just the way to have her at his will, have her wrapped around his finger. And that's exactly what was happening. After weeks of tedious yet discreet manipulation, he almost had her. Max was the one Y/N would go to first when she felt down, when she needed to get something off her chest, when she was excited about something. It was almost like he was her drug, little did she know it was all his fault. But she was too oblivious to realize it. Her friends tried to warn her, but it was no use. He was already getting to her, he'd already turned into her joy-pill.

Cried on your nudes, wearing your perfume Now I taste like you, you, you

This was wrong, so wrong. He knew it. But Max would go to the ends of the earth to even have a small taste of her. He sat quietly outside her apartment building, phone in hand. What a stupid, oblivious girl. She'd left the window wide open as she got changed, Max snapping pictures of her naked body without her knowledge. Once back in his own home, he pulled out his phone to flip through the pictures. Such a pretty, ignorant girl. He felt himself getting harder and harder as he looked at her body in each picture. Max could cry over her nudes, he needed her so badly. He grabbed a small bottle from him bedside drawer: a small travel-spray of Y/N's perfume. Max sprayed his pillow with it every night, craving her scent and body beside him. He decided to take a shower to get his mind off things, but now he practically tasted like her. There was no taking his mind off her now.

Forever and ever and ever

Oh, why don't you give a little love now, baby?

Alone, in the shower Using my left hand so it feels like you

Max had been alone in the shower for about an hour now, jerking his cock to the thought of her. The smell of her perfume still lingered, the mental image of her naked body driving him insane. He needed to have her, he couldn't wait much longer. But he almost had her, she was just within reach. He came with a loud groan, his release coating his own hand. He could only imagine how much better his cock would feel elsewhere; in her hand, her mouth, her pussy...but he had to wait just a little longer.

So please, I'm begging To feel something new

It had been like a predator circling its oblivious prey; she had no clue he already had her in the palm of his hand. She was under the impression that this was what she wanted, this was all out of her own volition. But that was far from the truth. Max was behind it all, meticulously puppeteering her feelings. But she'd never know, he'd make sure of it. As she entered his apartment, the feeling of his hand on her lower back was sending chills through her body, Max smilled maliciously to himself. But he had to make her think she was the one in control, that this was her choice. They walked to his couch and both sat down, their bodies mere millimeters away from each other. He had already brought out a bottle of wine and two glasses for them. They sipped on their drinks and just talked, but behind his blue eyes he was waiting for the perfect window to strike. About 4 and a half glasses in, she'd scooted closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder subconsciously. Now was the moment, thought Max. His hand slipped away to her thigh, slowly rubbing up and down and driving Y/N mad.

"Max..." she whined his name, it was like music to his ears.

"What, liefje (darling), what's wrong?" He had to hide his smirk, the slightest hint of mockery and possibly pity in his tone.

"Fuck...I think I need you..." She was too drunk to think before she spoke, her thighs rubbing together slightly as she yearned for some sort of friction.

"Aww...you need help darling?" He lifted her chin, pulling her in closer. All she could do was nod, letting him pull her in for a kiss.

One thing led to another, and they ended up in Max's bed. She'd practically been begging him to feel something new the whole way there, it's ironic how she thought she was the one in control. Max put her down onto the bed and reached under her skirt to remove her panties. He ran a finger through her folds, collecting her wetness.

"You're desperate me, huh schatje (little treasure)?" He brings his fingers up his mouth, licking them clean. All she could do was whine out a reply, she was desperate. With than Max knelt before her, leaving a trail of kisses up her thighs as Y/N squirmed with anticipation. The feeling of his tongue over her pussy, he ate her out like a man starved. Every moan that rolled off her tongue only riled him up more, he licked every inch of her center and sucked her clit like it was his last meal. As she begged him to let her come, her words caught in her throat with a squeal as he plunged two fingers into her entrance. She wanted to cry, it was all too much. "Aww, you wanna come liefje (darling)?" He smiled up at her and spoke in an almost mocking tone as he worked his fingers in and out of her and rubbed greedy circles on her puffy, overstimulated clit.

"Please, Maxie, please, please let me come...fuck!" She gasped out, her hands tangled in his hair.

"Since you asked so nicely, darling, I'll let you...come all over my fingers..." He sucked her clit and pumped his fingers even faster, pushing her over the edge. He came with a loud, straggled moan, her slick leaking out over Max's fingers and palm. He licked his fingers clean once again, then pulling himself back on top of her.

"You wanna taste yourself schatje (little treasure)? Hm?" He grabbed by the neck, with a rough gentleness, while taunting her with his patronizing tone. He kissed her roughly, Y/N whined at the taste of herself on his tongue and his hand gripping her neck, she needed more. Max was her drug, and she was too far into her addiction.

"Max I fucking need you...please." She reached up and pulled his face back down for another heated hiss.

"Anything for you, liefje (darling)." He smiled down at her, their foreheads touching. This was the moment Max had been waiting for for months, dreaming, fantasizing. He wouldn't wait another minute to make her his. So, he stripped himself of his clothing and Y/N removed whatever was left of hers. He cautiously got on top of her, like she was the most delicate creature on the planet, and aligned the hit tip with her hole. But he wanted to draw this out, so he slowly dragged the tip of his dick along her slit, rubbing it on her clit and then back down. Max could've died a happy man right there, his body hovering over hers as she begged for his cock and trembled.

"Please Max, stop teasing, I need it so fucking badly..." She said in a whiny, needy tone. Seconds later Max was pushing his cock into her, stretching her out as she moaned. He didn't waste a minute, not even allowing her to adjust. It's like a switch kicked off in him, he was feral. He thrust in and out of her at a fast, rough, yet delicious speed. Within minutes of him fucking her she was already a babbling mess.

"Aww, Y/N darling, already too fucked out to speak?" He mocked, deriving a little too much joy from seeing her at his will.

"Maxieee- fuck- 's too good...fucking fuck!" She moaned out, but Max was far from done yet. She felt her walls fluttering around him as his dick twitched, a tell-tale sign they were both gonna come.

"Need to come, liefje? Aww, I'm gonna fill you up so fuck- fucking good. Gonna claim this fucking pussy..." He groaned, feeling his climax reaching.

"Please, Maxie- fuck- need to come so bad, 's too much, fuck- please" She moaned out breathlessly, but she was already gone. The knot in her stomach had already snapped, spilling her slick all over Max's cock. He soon followed suit, his dick twitching inside her and the painting her walls with his come. He took a look down at where their bodies met, smiling maliciously down at the sight of the mix of his and her release leaking out on his cock. He then collapsed on to her with a loud groan, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her face.

"You're mine now...you get that? Or are you still too cockdrunk to understand me?" He spoke in an almost patronizing tone, running a had over her hair; all she could do was nod in her fucked out state. After catching his breath, Max got up and ran over to the bathroom. He came back minutes later, picking Y/N up from the bed. She whined into his neck.

"Come on, darling...gotta get you cleaned up..." With that, he dropped her down into the tub, and he practically worshiped her body. He ran his soapy hands over her whole body, washing off the sweat with the utmost caution. He used a washcloth to wipe the come off her sensitive center, she whined softly at times. But Max was extremely gentle, and when he got her out of the bath and sat her on the counter wrapped in a towel, he took a quick rinse. He then took them both back to the bed, giving her one of his t-shirts to sleep in. She drifted off peacefully in his arms, not knowing what she'd gotten herself into. Now Max had her, he was inside her head. He was going to keep it that way, forever and ever and ever.

#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #dark max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut

[k0droid]

Savanaclaw Headcanons

A/N: posting some of my ACTUAL headcanons for twst characters cuz🧍🏾‍♀️thank you to all who sent anons and messages for ideas <3

Content Warnings!:

friendly reminder: i am black <3

I headcanon every character here as BLACK. if that threatens you, block and move on. on that topic, these are HEADCANONS, not real so if I mischaracterize your pookie, just leave a comment or reblog

reblog/comment as in "I think leona would do this-" not "ruggie isnt black u racist go fuck urself" cuz I think it shows who the actual racist is...

any black twst fans pls moot me I'm begging on my knees

RUGGIE BUCCHI::

-- y'all know i had to put my boy firsttttt -- FULLY BLACK lightskin (if you don't already know this, lightskin does not equal being mixed. like there are so many fully-black lightskin people out there and you don't have to be mixed to have light skin.) -- 4C hair styled like this -- Also wears his hair in twists -- Trans man -- Fav struggle meal? i think it'd be hotdog in a regular slice of bread -- do yall also think ruggie would be the one adding water in the soap thingy to make the soap stretch? -- has body acne in a similar pattern to a hyena's coat

JACK HOWL::

-- DARK SKIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -- stretch marks on his muscles -- 4B-4C hair but he straightens it because he doesn't like the way his ears stick out of his curls -- tbh I don't see jack as someone who listens to music, even as he works out. just sits there. in silence. if he did, i think it'd be those songs you would have heard in a 2019 youtube intro -- watched those unknown Canadian kids movies/tv shows from the 2000s

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR::

-- ALSO DARK SKINNED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -- out of the trio, I hc that he has the loosest curls -- 3A/3B -- decorates his braids/or locs with beads and gold and small pearls similar to this -- leona has an earthy fashion style, I cannot get the thought out of my head -- the type of person to tell you you've missed the turn AFTER u've missed the turn -- lip and ear piercings

A/N: this lowkey kinda ass but i don't actually have a lot hcs for twst characters so my next post is probably gonna be something like "what they would do at a family reunion"

#k0droid #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland savanaclaw #twst savanaclaw #twst leona #twst jack #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #leona kingscholar #twst headcanons #twst x black reader #black reader #black twst yuu #savanaclaw #black twisted wonderland

[indouloureux]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 (part one)

summary: she sought for validation; he sought for acceptance. two juveniles who believed they’d spend the rest of their lives playing red guitars and borrowed claviers, (along with the trepidation of isolation), meet in one boring afternoon, and find themselves reveling in caterwaul voices, laying in a field of colossal grass, and writing lyrics with botched ballpens and crumpled papers.

— or: two people bond over emotional trauma, and fall in love through great manifestos

warnings: 1hr reading time, slow burn, friends to lovers, slight teenage angst, jealousy, tooth-rotting fluff, eddie being a sap, weird manifestos, reader being adopted, eddie and reader both having a self discovery whilst falling in love, fem!reader (she/her pronouns), me not knowing how to write both piano and guitar playing properly, deep words (sorry guys open google), lengthy, idiots in love, a love story about two sad teens going through a phase (jk) eddie has a bit of a corruption thing (not kink) bc he introduces reader into new things lol!

explicit warnings (for part two): virgin!reader, virgin!eddie; piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, overstimulation, first time, soft, vanilla porn, mentions of blood, handjob, cum eating, biting, marking, missionary, maybe soft!dom eddie bc he watched porn a lot and thinks he "knows his way", sweet but short aftercare

a/n: this is a story of fiction. i do not know the locations in both indiana and illinois. this is written in the way i prefer it to be to fit its story telling, and i am well aware of the things i write in here, and how i write this story. based on the song '1979' by the smashing pumpkins. the whole lyrics layout inspired by @/upsidedownwithsteve! 1979 is like one of my fav songs ever and i wanted to write a story about it. sorry it took a while to post :( hope you guys all enjoy.

PART TWO; SERIES MASTERLIST

Shakedown 1979

Cool kids never have the time

On a live wire right up off the street

You and I should meet

In a field miles away from a town that’s cursed him, Eddie lays in the colossal grass with his hands on his chest and his eyes closed, the sun blinding him through the thin skin of his eyelids. Growing weeds tickle his inked skin, dirt stains his leather jacket, and ants cross over his hair; he does not mind one bit.

He daydreams of the sky. How accepting they’d be — how they wouldn't mind his disheveled, long hair, or his punk style and see him as one of them; One of the clouds who form themselves into whatever they want and float freely across the cerulean aether atmosphere. A place where he can be himself, where he can bring his darkness into that white airy cotton, even when it turns grey or when the night begins. Eddie would be himself, and no one would judge.

Ringed fingers touch the grass when he removes one from his chest, soft beneath his fingertips that he massages. Eddie hums, taking in the calming sound of air swishing the trees, the faint sound of passing cars, the optimistic birds, and the sound of Dustin talking to his girlfriend with a sickenly high-pitched and lovey-dovey voice. Which reminds him:

“Hey, Henderson,” he turns around, laying on his stomach. Eddie takes a quick glance at his watch — 7:05 am. “Wrap it up lovebirds. We gotta go to school.”

Dustin nods his head, his cap blocking his eyes. “Yeah hold on. I gotta go, Suzie-poo. I’ll talk to you later, I promise. I miss you already. I love you.”

A giggle. “I love you more, Dusty-bun.”

“I love you more multiplied by all the stars in the galaxy.”

“No, I love you—”

“Alright,” Eddie suddenly takes the microphone from Dustin, shooting him a judging look with a raised brow before he speaks. “Sorry, Suzie-poo. Gotta take Dusty here to school or else you won't be seeing each other and he’s gonna spend the rest of his life running up this hill crying. Bye-bye now.”

He almost laughs at the thought of Suzie’s shocked face when he turns the radio off. And maybe that same laugh comes out when he sees Dustin’s horrified expression when he realized he’d — or Eddie — had just cut her off. He looks back at Eddie, mouth agape, before he playfully punches his shoulder.

“Asshole,” Dustin kicks his shin. “That was my girlfriend, you idiot. She’s gonna be pissed that you cut her off!”

“Nah, she loves you too much,” he stands up, patting the dirt off his knees and his jacket, fixing his hair. “Now come on, Dusty bunny, we gotta go to school.”

“Don’t call me that,” Dustin swats his hand away when Eddie tries to ruffle his hair by slipping it beneath his hand, but the kid smiles anyway. Anything for the affection he gives. “You know, you’ll be like this one day,”

Eddie plays with his keys, walking down the hill in heavy footsteps that threaten to twist their ankles. “What’d you mean?”

Dustin hops over the fence, followed by Eddie who grunts loudly. “Being sweet. Disgusting. In love.”

He scoffs, walking over to the side of his van and opening the door, but not before he looks at Dustin over the hood of his van with a look. “So you admit that you and Suzie are disgusting?”

“From the words of you, Steve, Lucas and Mike — who actually both have girlfriends — yes, I admit that we are disgusting. Disgustingly sweet.” 

They close the doors simultaneously, the keys jingling when Eddie shoves the keys in the ignition. “You know, when I was fifteen, I spent my time playing the guitar and studying songs. My fingertips were bleeding, Henderson,” he shows him his palm, letting Dustin see the faint scar lines on his fingertips. “I never dated a girl. So I highly doubt I’d fall in love.”

“The only reason you never dated was because of your reputation,” Dustin throws his bag behind him. “And you’ll fall in love. I bet you will. You may be cynical and mad, but you’ll find the right person, Eddie,” he smiles at him. “Trust me.”

“Yeah yeah,” he shakes his head, the car shaking into a start and Mötley Crüe starts blasting that startles the poor boy beside him. “We’re gonna take this bet to my grave, then.”

Eddie Munson has only fallen in love once. When his Uncle, Wayne, had come home with a red guitar after his night, tiring shifts at the plant. He remembers clearly the way his eyes lost focus of the world and remained on that guitar, like the center of attention; the only attraction in this terrifying world. Eddie remembers the way his heart pounded like he’d fallen down a roller coaster, and remembered the way his tears had mimicked said coaster when he hugged his Uncle and sobbed out his gratitude.

That had been five years ago. When he was fifteen. And he swears he’ll never fall in love again.

Because love—in his own concept—was a dangerous game. More dangerous than when you decide to go and attack Vecna powerless in Dungeons and Dragons, or taunting a swarm of demobats. It’s a game with unknown intentions and arduous side quests that render you defeated before you even get to love itself. Dangerous and tiring, if you’d shorten it. And no one wants to delve into a love so treacherous if you’ll end up getting hurt anyway. 

It’s what Eddie thinks; understood. How he perceives love and what he thinks love is with his semi-nihilistic mind despite never having to fight for love. It’s a game he refuses to partake in and narrate, and would rather watch people struggle with it from the sidelines (with a beer in hand and a freshly rolled blunt in his mouth, as he’d imagined).

So he prays Dustin would win that game. Despite being miles away from his girlfriend; give him all the makeshift spears and shields made of garbage lids and dull nails. He cares so much for him that he actually hopes their love will succeed, that he’d go out not scathed but covered in grime and a triumphant smile. Even now when Eddie looks beside him to see the lovesick smile on Dustin Henderson’s face who replays every memory he had with Suzie during that one summer.  

He reaches over to give his friend a pat on the shoulder, which gifts him a bright smile before he races off to Hawkins High with eternal dread.

—

His day wasn’t at all dreadful. It felt like a normal day.

Probably because Jason Carver wasn't at school today due to a foot injury, and his little balls-in-laundry-baskets friends had no leader to bark at them around all day. They did nothing but practice and sit quietly at their tables, and so did Eddie.

Albeit the day being normal, he’d still get his usual judging stares and glares. Eddie Munson wearing a Dio shirt today? Freak. Eddie Munson wearing shoes other than his Reeboks? Freak. Eddie Munson trimmed his bangs today? Freak. Eddie Munson’s not wearing his vest? Still a freak.

He kept his head low, eyes on the ballpen that draws on his palm as he walks through the emptying hallway. Dustin had gone with Steve Harrington, and the rest had decided to leave early. Eddie? He’d just gotten out of detention for spacing out during class. Why detention? He'd never know why. Even Ms. O’ Donnel thinks he’s a freak. 

Eddie whistles. Mandy. Something new and unusual, a song he’d heard from Wayne early in the morning that he too whistles as he makes his coffee and smokes outside the porch. He’d woken up to the sound of it for two weeks and he finds himself subconsciously copying his Uncle.

His footsteps echo in the walls of Hawkins High. He jumps and spins and occasionally taps his fingers across the lockers covered in stickers, if not dents from rowdy students. The sight of the exit doors surprises him when he turns right, and a bright smile comes up to his face when he sees them. Eddie pulls his keys out of his back pockets, shoves his pen inside, and continues to whistle like he’s taking a walk on a quiet, sunny day at a park.

Until by the time he’s about two rooms away, he hears the sound of a piano. Soft and ear-pleasing, yet startling since it’s been an hour after school ended and no one, not even the teachers other than Ms. O’ Donnel should be here. Eddie stops his whistling, eyebrows furrowing as he hears the piano play the same tune he’d been whistling.

And then a voice. Far and hushed, like a ghost. Unseen through the walls, floating and yearning to be noticed; so they sing to be noticed instead. Eddie’s heart palpitates a little in panic, wondering if the ghost is singing the same song he’s whistling to get his attention. His hands curl into fists and prepare to run away.

But he thinks of disturbing whoever's in that room. He also thinks he should just go home because it probably could just be a ghost, seeing as half the victims from the Starcourt fire had been students and they’d probably come here for refuge in the afterlife. But Eddie’s curious. Maybe taking a glimpse over the small window on the door and seeing a ghost would cause no harm other than a possible possession, right?

So he tiptoes his way to the door he recognized as the music room. He’d seen this room once when he snuck in here during middle school and he needed a guitar for Gareth or else they would have lost that talent show (they did. No adult would let a child playing quote unquote, Satan’s Music, win).

Carefully, he peeks sideways through the small window, where he sees through the blurry glass; a girl sitting in front of a keyboard. Her back to him, head bobbing slightly at every key she presses, showing merely the tip of her nose and the plump apples of her cheeks when she sways lightly to her gentle playing. Eddie quietly shoves his keys back inside his pockets, pressing his ear against the glass, and watches the grace take upon her fingers. 

“I see a memory. I never realized how happy you made me,” 

A voice so celestial, like an angel he’s never seen but envisaged. Maybe like an angel he’d imagined in the clouds up above; a voice so warm like the summer breeze, soft like silk and the denim of his vest. It’s inviting and it’s hypnotizing, with every perfect lilt. 

Something new from his usual heavy ululating music. Something he might like and never get used to. 

And it’s tempting. So tempting that he finds himself opening the door harshly that the doorknob slams against the thin wall of the room that even startles Eddie.

“Oh Mandy, well you came—”

You scream, hands slamming on the keyboard that makes a distorted sound of unmatched keys. Eddie’s eyes widen and his hands raise in defense, hiding behind them when your own hand comes up to gasp into your palm, horrified by his sudden arrival. His heart pounds against his chest, hands coming down to clasp at his pec. And he’s staring at your petrified look.

“Mother of God,” you whimper. 

“I’m sorry!” he closes the door behind him hastily. “It’s, uh, I heard you. And I thought you sounded… great,” Eddie’s shoulders deflate, sighing when a small smile comes up to your face.

“Really?” you finish for him. “Sorry. I- I thought I was alone.”

“No, it’s okay.” Eddie finds himself smiling with you. More at the way there’s dimples at the bottom of your mouth and your teeth show slightly through your lips. 

He stares at you, longer than he intends to, a sense of familiarity waves down him when he traces the slope of your nose and the thick eyelashes that meet with your cheeks when you blink. Eddie thinks you’re pretty — especially with your small smile that makes his heart feel weird when he realizes he’s the receiving end of it. A faint picture flashes in the back of his head, and he limply points at you. “Hey, uh, I kinda remember you,”

Your eyebrows raise a bit, hands falling to your lap. “You do?”

“Yes! I think…” his eyes narrow. “Middle school.” 

“Yeah,” you tell him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It was back in middle school.”

Yes, he remembers you. Only that blurry picture in the back of his mind only focusing on the small pigtails of a girl shorter than him, the ends of a borrowed purple dress that tickled his knees, and that similar smile of yours except you’d been missing a tooth on the bottom row of your teeth that matched his. And that voice, still sweet but deeper than it used to be, still entices him like it used to do.

Eddie gawps. “Holy shit,” he says your name with pure shock, the smile on his lips starting to strain his cheeks. But he doesn't care, not when you’re prettily smiling with him. “You— you played that same song! Mandy, right? You played that too?” 

“I did, yeah,” he walks over to you, hands on his lap and slightly bent. Eddie walks until he’s standing beside the bench you’re sitting on, hand grazing the plastic of the borrowed keyboard. “Mandy by Barry Manilow. Yep.”

“I’m Eddie Munson. Although I'm sure you already knew that,” he offers his hand, hoping you won’t notice the trembling and the silent clinking of his rings. You smile at him, taking his hand into yours and he wonders why even the handshaking felt familiar.

And your hand is warm. Soft like the grass he’s touched earlier this morning, feeling the same small scars in the pads of your fingertips when his thumb slyly runs through them. They were light and they were pretty, your own dainty little ring made by a wire that loops around a gemstone was a hard contrast to the abominable ones on his hand. Almost like an angel shaking the devil’s hand. 

Eddie wishes to feel this way again. How a simple touch ignites something new, yet the fire starts within him that he can't find. 

“I know,” you place your hand back on your lap, his own falling disappointedly on his side. “Sat behind you during History.”

He nods his head down on the bench you’re sitting on, asking for permission. You scoot aside, motioning for him to sit beside you; and Eddie, for the first time in his life, shyly does. He sits beside you, thighs almost an inch apart as he nervously watches you toy with the black keys. “How come I remember you a bit in middle school but not…?”

“Your early years of high school?” you press on a key he doesn't know. “I left after middle school. Moved to Queens, for my dad’s work. Came back here because my nana got sick.”

“Oh,” he plays with his rings, pulls them up before he puts them back on, a slight indentation on his fingers. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” 

Eddie exhales, feeling his heart unwind when you begin to play a steady beat, watching as you press down on the plastic keys. “I came inside because I thought you sounded good,” he nods his head to you. “Your voice. It’s nice. And, because I also thought that ghosts might have heard me whistling and decided to play with me. Scare me shitless.” 

“Ghosts?” you repeat, pressing on a key that emits a deep tune. 

He hums. “Hawkins is filled with dead people. Right beneath this school and those roads you walk on,” he points behind him. “‘ve you heard of the mall fire last summer?”

“I think so,” you furrow your eyebrows. “My dad’s friend called him about that.”

“It was horrifying,” his eyebrows meet for a split second when your eyes widen and you look away from him. Eddie smiles a little. “So, piano huh?”

You look at him again. “Well, technically it’s a keyboard but…it makes the sound of a piano,” you slam a finger onto a black key. 

Eddie has gotten to the point where he realizes there’s no future in this conversation if he doesn't make up another question. And he doesn't want this to end. He just met you again, and he’d like to stay here a bit more even though he’s been craving to leave the school an hour ago. Anything to get to know you a bit more before he sees what’s going to happen next.

“Can you play me a song?” he asks quietly, feeling embarrassed by his diffidence. “Only if you want to.”

“Of course,” you smile at him, fists clenching that your index scratches on the cuticles of your thumb. He wants to stop you, but he worries about crossing borders and you’re probably just as nervous as he is as you say, “what song?”

“Mandy,” he deadpans. You blink at his tone, which makes him clear his throat and speak again in a rather forced cheerfulness that means no harm but to correct himself. “Please?” 

You let out a short chuckle, unclenching your fists to spread them out and stretch. “Yeah sure.”

You began with grace, you performed with aplomb, and his ever-curious mind was captivated by how simple it was for you to play and croon at the same time, as if he didn't know how to do it himself. Eddie watches silently, sings in his head with your gentle humming; remembers how he’d caught Wayne swaying to this song once and thinking he looked funny and at peace, wearing his usual red flannel with a cigarette in his mouth and eyes closed. He looked high back then, unperceived that his nephew had been standing there to the side with crossed arms and an amused smile.

Is this what his uncle felt? Finding peace in music other than electric guitars and heavy drums? Lacking all that yowling rasps and instead replaced with a voice that runs through velvet flawlessly like yours. Where he sways and taps his feet, watching your slender hands switch between keys without having the pads of your fingertips stuck in between them despite him noticing the slight shakiness in your hands, dwelling in on the missing memory that scratches on the back of his mind as he watches you play. 

“Caught up in a world of uphill climbing, the tears are in my mind and nothin' is rhyming,” you take a shy glance at him, eyes flitting to the redness of his ears. Eddie smiles to take your attention, making his ears turn redder when you smile back at him. “I…I forgot the next lyrics,”

Eddie chuckles. “So have I,” he lies. He just doesn’t want to sing. Not in front of you, at least. He worries he might crack his voice and he could just jump out that window.

There’s a faint sound of a door slamming shut from outside that makes you jump a bit, which makes Eddie turn around to where the sound was before he completely ignores it.

Trying to hide the disappointment that flows from him when you stop playing, he focuses on the fact that you’re looking at him as you do so. Which twists his heart in a way that’s far from bad, and tries to distract himself by clapping like one of the people he wishes he had after his shows. “That was it, all I could remember,” you motion to the piano, flushing bashfully. “I- stop,”

You laugh, your hand barely touching his wrist but motions for him to settle it down. “Bravo,” he smirks at you, wiggling his eyebrows. “That was amazing. Talented. You could be the next, I don’t know, Billy Joel.”

“I barely finished the song,” you nudge your knee with his. “I actually think I made a few mistakes but, uh, thanks,” Eddie fights the urge to remove the lone lint from your hair. He smiles at you instead, settling his hands on his lap. “What about you? Still playing the guitar?”

Eddie’s shoulder bumps with yours when you sway gently as your right hand presses all five fingers onto the keys. He can't stop looking at you, anywhere but your eyes really, so they mostly stay at your cheeks. Sometimes shyly at the plumpness of your lips chastely, or at the dimples threatening to deepen. “Still do. We play at The Hideout every weekend for some cash. We’ve got a crowd of about five…drunks.”

He feels that unfamiliar sensation of heat blooming in his cheeks when you laugh. It’s as soft and inviting as the piano that your hands rest on. “You should come see us,” Eddie continues, nudging his shoulder with yours. “That way I can tell my uncle we’ve got six people watching us now.”

“Hm,” you remove your hands from the keyboard, copying his slumped posture albeit a bit more poise. “I might think about it. If you play me a song too,” you raise your brow at his grimace. “What? It’s only fair.”

“Fine,” Eddie crosses his legs over the small bench, walking around with his hair twirling over his shoulder as he does so. His eyes never leave you even as he crosses the room to pick up an acoustic guitar. “Damn room doesn’t even have an electric guitar. Amplifier’s at the gym and I hate that place.”

You laugh, watching him take the neck of the brown guitar and grab a monobloc from a stack beside the door. He sets it beside the keyboard, awkwardly sitting down before he sets the guitar on his lap eagerly. Eddie smiles at you, grabbing a part of his hair and hiding his mouth behind it bashfully.

“What song, m’lady?” he peers at you through his eyelashes. Eddie feels triumphant when he makes you laugh again, thinking he could watch you push your hair behind your ear with a demure look any time of the day.

Your shoulders raise into a shrug, the smile on your face falling a bit. “Dunno. Ever heard of The Outfield?” 

“On the radio. When my uncle listens to music early in the morning,” his fingers slide across the strings, pressing randomly on frets. “Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes I listen to music other than metal.”

“Shocker,” you gasp dramatically. “You’ve ruined your image for me. I don’t see you as a metalhead anymore. You’re merely a commoner. A pretender.”

“You wound me,” he pouts at you. “Come on, (y/n). Give me a song,”

“Alright,” you rest your elbow on the keyboard, cheek on your fist. “Your Love. The Outfield. Think you know it or you’re just pretending?”

“Think I might have studied this for… other embarrassing purposes. But yes, I know it.” He clears his throat. “Prepare to cover your ears,”

Your Love wasn’t a song that was merely played by a guitar. However, an acoustic wouldn’t hurt. Not when he’s doing it for you. Eddie fears pressing his fingers on the wrong string, or a strain from his voice because that would just be plain humiliating. 

Your observance adds fuel to the fire of his confidence, while it also simultaneously makes him nervous ‘cause you’re watching; not just listening, not judging. You’re watching him like you actually want to see him play. And as far as he could remember, you’re the first girl to actually pay attention to what he’s playing without any cruel thoughts. He wonders if you think he’s great at this, just as much as he thought you were remarkable in the whole piano thing. 

Come on. E, C minor, B, E- no A. A, goddamnit.

When he almost misplaced his finger on the wrong string, he almost cried. But you’re not looking at his face anyway, perhaps too enthralled with the gentle sound of plucking; the deep baritone-like sound that the brass string produces makes you sway similarly like his earlier. 

“I ain't got many friends left to talk to, nowhere to run when I'm in trouble,” he shoots you a nervous glance, and he’s almost thankful that you’re looking at his hands. “You know I'd do anything for you, stay the night but keep it undercover,”

“You’ve got a nice voice,” his fingers slide across the brass string so quickly that it almost burns his fingertips when his voice dies in his throat and he looks up at you. “S-sorry.”

Eddie sets the guitar down, the flat of its back on his lap and knees. “No, it’s alright. Thanks,” you smile warily when he scratches nervously at the guitar. “So um- you gonna come see us in The Hideout? No pressure. Just, so I can show you that I really am into metal.”

Your lips tug downwards into an upside-down smile that teases him. Eddie tips his head back, flashing you a toothy grin as you say. “I’ll see to it, Eddie Munson,” you take a glance at your watch. “U-unfortunately though, I’ve got to go.”

He fights the urge to voice his disdain through a quiet groan of protest when he sees you reach on the other side of the bench to take your bag and sling it over your shoulder before you stand up from your seat. Eddie places the guitar on the ground, nervously fiddling with his fingers. “Um. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Stopping in your movements, your thumb slides between the leather strap of your bag and your shoulders. “Yeah. Sure. If you’ll see me, anyway.”

“I’m sure I will,” he offers you a smile.

He watches you leave with a sad frown. 

But later that night though, when he talks to Dustin on the RT, he remembers telling him that the girl in the purple dress wore ripped jeans now and a yellow blouse covered in pink flowers, her hair down in loose waves over her shoulders that enticed him. Eddie remembers telling him you’d looked mature, prettier, and that maybe you’d come to his show next week.

What he doesn’t tell him, though, is that he remembers every spot on your face that had dimples when you smile. That your voice was like petal silk that pleases his fingertips as he rubs it between them; or that your hands had similar scars like his, only you’ve gotten them for a different reason. How graceful you’d looked playing the keyboard like you’d been the only one in that room. 

A veridical sense of déjà vu makes his mind tingle and his heart twist. In his bed, Eddie has his hands over his stomach, staring up his ceiling with a poster of Tiamat he once saw during a yard sale that he bought. But he thinks of you, the exiguous curiousness grows the longer he remembers that bright smile on your face. And he feels nothing but the want inside him that yearns to see you again.

Justine never knew the rules

Hung down with the freaks and ghouls

No apologies ever need be made

I know you better than you fake it

“Lost in a purple hill, shake these zipper blues? Hey, Nancy, do you think—”

A shoulder bumps you, too hard to be taken as an accident. Your notebook falls to the ground, ball pen tight in your hand as you let out a startled gasp. You look at the boy first, whose eyes widen in embarrassment as they flicker between the journal on the floor and to your agape mouth. 

You should have expected it. The halls were crowded and there were very eager students to enter the cafeteria and take tables before someone else would. But still, you’re taken aback by the sudden impact, even after almost squeezing yourself against the lockers just so you would avoid this kind of incident.

“Shit, dude, I’m sorry,” 

You give him a tight smile. “‘S alright,” he apologizes through a useless smile before he’s being dragged away by his friends. Nancy spins around at the upheaval, and follows the direction of your eyesight before she frowns in disdain.

Asshole didn’t even bother to pick it up for you. Or ask if you were alright.

“What a prick,” she clicks her tongue to the roof of her mouth. You ignore the slight throb on your shoulder, bending down to pick up your notebook and wipe whatever dirt it's picked up from the ground. “Is it ruined?”

Shaking your head, you close it shut and hug it close to your chest. “No. It’s alright. I’m just lucky the floor doesn’t have any piss or something. Or else I would have…punched that guy,”

Nancy chuckles, shaking her head. She turns back around, clutching your wrist to go through the sweaty sea of rushing students. “I doubt that—ow, hey!”

Your face hits Nancy’s permed coils, nose meeting the Fabergé glory of her shampoo. You grimace, moving away to see your friend rubbing her shoulder before you see Patrick McKinney furrow his eyebrows in worry at his mistake. 

“Sorry. You alright, Wheeler?” he reaches out to rub her shoulder chastely, but Nancy shrugs it off, nodding. Patrick’s eyes relax, taking a glance at you before he realizes he doesn’t know who you are before he pats her shoulder carefully. “Alright. Sorry, again.”

It was difficult to hide the frown that paints itself on your face when Nancy simply grabs your wrist, guiding you around the crowd once more. And there’s this annoying itch in your head that keeps on reminding you how unlucky you’d been that you bumped into an apathetic guy who hadn’t even bothered to ask if you were alright whereas Nancy got sympathetic eyes and genuine concern. 

And you thought, well that’s because they knew her. Having to date Steve Harrington when he was still here, who’d been part of the basketball team himself, of course they knew her. You? The guy looked at you like some random crayon found on the ground. So you tell yourself to get over it; they don’t care and neither do you. It was a simple bump. Your friends would have asked if you were okay.

Nancy didn’t.

Well, she was distracted.

No, she wasn’t.

Shut up.

The cafeteria doors are left open with the people that surges through. Nancy stands on her tiptoes, searching for the boy with glasses that made his eyes larger and took up half his face — Fred, you remember; you practically sink onto her shoulder in fear of accidentally bumping into someone again. And fuck, how muscly was that guy for your shoulder to hurt?

When she spots him, Nancy’s quick to drag you to her side and sit you down beside her in front of Fred, who’d immediately chatted about this thing he’s seen somewhere you don't bother understanding. But when his eyes land on you, his talking stops. Lips snapping shut and he’s staring at you with those wide eyes of his, the scar on his cheek bending when he smiles cheekily at you, his forearms resting side by side on the table as he leans closer.

“I heard a rumor that you were with Eddie Munson yesterday,” he narrows his eyes playfully. Nancy whips her head at you, astounded with the new gossip she’s heard, especially now that it included you.  

Nervous with the attention diverted to you, you move back, fingers fidgeting on your lap. “What? Where’d you hear that?”

“Andy saw you.”

“Who’s Andy?”

“That guy who kinda looks like Arnold Schwarze-something.”

Nancy snorts. “He does not look like him.”

Frowning, you lean closer. “What was he doing there yesterday?”

Beside you, Nancy opens a pack of pudding pie that she quietly offers to you. You shake your head politely, offering her a short smile before Fred asks for your attention with a simple tap on your elbow. “He left something by the locker room. Then he said he caught Eddie Munson sitting beside you on a small chair inside the music room being…shit, Nance, what’d he say?”

She shrugs, mouthful. “Dunno. Cute? Or, weird?”

“Somewhere along those lines, but we’re sugarcoating it for you,” he leans closer. “You do know who Eddie Munson is, right? Like, what people say?”

Nancy reaches behind you to take the Hi-C juice box in your bag and puts the straw in for you, shoving it in front of you that you gladly take and quietly thank her for as you say, “That he’s a freak? Just because he dresses out of the trend doesn’t mean he’s a freak, y’know?”

“Steve used to think he was,” Nancy raises her eyebrows at you. “I mean, I don’t think he’s a freak. He does have an influence on my brother though. He’s growing his hair out. Like a mullet, or something.”

“Well he’s not a freak,” you bring the small plastic straw to your lips, the sweet orange-y flavor of the mechanized juice filling your taste buds. “He’s nice. He said I had a…nice voice.”

No one’s said that to me before.

“That’s sweet,” Fred pouts. “Don’t know. Maybe he’s planning on luring you in as a sacrifice.”

Eddie? Cult leader luring you in for some sacrifice? The same person who’d smiled kindly, watched you play the piano like he was actually interested in your performance and applauded you like he’d been watching a breathtaking opera at the same time, invited you to watch his band at some dingy restaurant and thought ghosts might have been haunting him?

His style might say otherwise—with all those brutish rings he’d harbored so proudly and his disheveled mullet-ish hair. But with those wide, curious eyes that watched you like the most interesting flower blooming from the iced frozen ground, a voice so benign and placid who’d praised you in a way anybody else wouldn’t? No. He’s not a cult leader. Or a freak.

And you’d only known him from the mystifying, blurry memories and the couple minutes you’d spent with him yesterday. 

That same Eddie who you found with a small frown that lifts into a charming smile when his eyes find you. Briefly does he stop talking with his friends from across the room when your eyes link with his. And Eddie presents you a smile so pretty it makes you dizzy; with his style different, that same leather jacket with a red flannel beneath and a band shirt you don’t recognize, but he had the same fondness in his look that makes your heart flutter wildly like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon. 

You feel a spark of electricity ignite in the tendrils of your veins; the sound of your heart beating in your ears as everything else muffles and the spotlight goes onto him — like the sun beaming through the window to show you what you’d been looking for. 

Yeah sure, he’s a cult leader.

(A cult leader who made you feel noticed in a town with 15,000 ignorant, judgy people despite being with him in less than thirty minutes.)

“What’s she smiling at— oh,” with her laced fingers, Nancy places them beneath her chin and tilts her head sideways to take a glimpse of Eddie, who’s still looking at you. “That’s cute,”

“You really shouldn’t believe rumors,” You turn to her, nudging your juice box with her hand. “I mean, I’ve been here for three months. I barely know him and I think he’s just…being himself. It’s like this town hates people who are comfortable being themselves.”

The corners of Fred’s lips tug down. “Ouch,”

“What? It’s true,” 

“Y’know, we had a yard sale last year,” Nancy tells Fred. “Eddie was there lurking.”

“And?”

“Seemed like he didn't caused any trouble. Just roamed around, gave this kid a stuffed animal when he couldn't reach it. He seems nice, Fred.”

And you almost tell them that five years ago, Eddie Munson followed you backstage when he saw you crying; That he’d asked you if you were okay, that he said you’d do great and you did, and in between those hazy flashes of cut memories, you almost tell them that he wore a Bauhaus shirt too large for him, that his hair was buzzed and he made you laugh until you’d—quite literally—forgotten the reason why you cried in the first place.

—

“Hey there, Mandy,”

You yell, clutching the notebook closer to your chest and the pen tight in your hand that it might pop the ink out. Eddie’s hands raise in defense, eyes widening in shock as you both stop walking, the leaves crunching beneath your worn-out shoes and his white sneakers, the birds flying away from the disruption. 

“Jesus Christ,”

“We gotta stop meeting like this,” familiar, but the memory’s lost in your worry-filled mind. You laugh disbelievingly at him, closing your notebook and tucking the pen behind your ear. “What?”

“Nothing!” you scratch the dents on your notebook, shying away from Eddie’s intensive look. “Mandy? ‘S not my name.”

“I know. But it’s a cool nickname. And you know,” he tilts his head sideways. “The song.”

You smile when his head lulls back, chuckling shortly when you both begin walking again. Eddie has his hands behind his back, his hair wild from the harsh winds of August’s warm breeze. Which he fixes with quick pats to the hair covering half his forehead, his eyes never leaving you.

“Why are you walking home?” you see him bring his hands in front, toying with his rings, pushing them in and out of his fingers. 

When you look up at him, your right eye squints from the brightness of the sun until he steps over it. “I wanted to walk home. And, um, I don’t have a car,” you flush beneath his piercing gaze. “What about you?”

“Because I saw you walking home,” he grins. “You were writing while you were walking so I thought maybe I should come join you in case you accidentally trip,” 

The sun draws a halo above his head, painting over the devil horns drawn onto him. It gives him a sacrilegious glow, intriguing you to just push his hair behind his ears and ask him all the things that made him smile just so you could see him smile once more. Yet, you don’t; your hands stay around your notebook, your mouth parts but never says anything, and you merely try to say those words through your eyes.

Cult leader, my ass.

“What, so you…left your car in school so you could walk with me?”

He shrugs. “I guess so. It’s still there when I come back, anyway. After I walk you home,” Eddie swallows. “...after I walk you home as a friend.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

Eddie’s lips purse. “So…” he makes a noise, like a random music note. “I didn’t see you in history today,”

History was (unfortunately) the only class you shared with Eddie. Where in the first three months, you’d kept on asking yourself where you’d seen him over and over again as you stared at the back of his head. (Wishing he’d turn around and ask for your name, if he’d seen you before, and notice you like he’d notice every random fuzz he’d find on his table.)

And he noticed you today. Even when you weren’t there, the thought of him thinking about you and wondering where you were sets a comfortable flame in your cold chest. 

“I was at the clinic,” you smile a little. “Some guy bumped into me earlier and I don’t know what he’s made of. It really hurt,”

His eyes darken into a gloom of concern, his eyebrows meeting like a broken bridge. “Are you alright? You okay now? Does it, uh, still hurt?”

“A bit,” you roll the injured shoulder. “Still kinda sore. ‘S like I played football, or something.”

Eddie’s teeth join behind his lips that remain separated, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout you can’t fathom the meaning behind. Then he’s biting it, his hands clenching and unclenching like he’s trying to make the hardest decision of his life before he’s pointing his thumb behind him. 

“Do you wanna go back to my van?” he asks quickly. “I’ve got something cold in there and I could help you. And I can drive you home, too,” his voice is eager and almost excited with a lace of hope. “But only if you want to,”

You’re unheistant when you say, “Yes,” take me with you. Aid me. Ask me how I am and I’d tell you. 

The walk back to school was quicker with his urgent feet that you had difficulty catching up with. You spot his car parked behind the school, befuddled with the amount of dents and the way his van leans sideways more than evenly. Eddie has a hand hovering behind you as he guides you, the other hurling the backdoors open that tricks you into thinking it’s gonna be thrown aside.

The back of his van was messy — with four empty beer cartons stashed aside, a Bauhaus poster that matched Eddie’s shirt with its sides ripped, white ridges seen in that black paper, a red cooler behind the cartons, and a blanket that you assumed used to be white but has been left unwashed for who knows how long. 

But despite the messy appearance, you sit on top of the blanket when he asks you to. And he sits beside you, 

a heavy hop that makes the van shake slightly and a creak underneath. He shoots you an embarrassed smile, a hand behind him to prop himself up as he twists his torso and pulls on the cooler until it slides near him.

When Eddie opens it, it’s nothing but almost melted ice and four bottles of Boston Lager with one of them being half-empty. You peer over the red box, watching as his hand dives through the cold mess before he hands you an unopened beer bottle.

Out of curiosity, you bring it up to your nose and take a whiff just because.

Eddie chortles. “What’s it smell like?”

You frown. “Like water.”

He stops you from putting the bottle right at your shoulder, looking for something behind him before he sighs scornly, reaching out behind him to pull out a black bandana decorated with large, intimidating skulls. “Here just—wrap it around so it won't wet your shirt too much,”

Eddie gently takes the bottle from you, half of his fingertips covering yours. Half a touch and it already makes you feel like someone had thrown a rope down the hole you’d been stuck in and pulled you out; in that slight formidable tactility does your skin tingle, a warmth that feels like you’re hovering your hands over the flawless dance of a flame. A caress that barely lasts ten seconds, but was a lifetime of gratifyingly dizzy touches. 

The coldness of the bottle doesn’t scathe you anymore now with his handkerchief wrapped around it. It seems like Eddie felt the same way, with how his neck reddens, and abruptly places his hands on his lap, watching you from the corner of his eye as you place the bottle on your shoulder. 

But the silence is comfortable, with the howl of the wind and the rustling of the trees. You dab the bottle on your shoulder, the bandana itself smelling of cigarettes and a boyish aroma you can’t comprehend, but you had a feeling it smelt just like him. The white skull turns gray, the cloth dampens and turns cold, and you turn to see Eddie with his nose wrinkled into a quick sniff before he looks around him and settles on your notebook.

“So what were you writing?” He gently takes the purple notebook into his hand, tracing its ridges and checking its black spine, flipping it around where he sees your name written on the upper left corner in small cursives.

“Um, just…things,” you pinch your nose with a vacant hand. “Just lyrics, I guess.”

“You? Lyricist?” Removing the hand from your nose, you reach over to flip the journal open, thumb skimming across the thick pages. “Just when I thought you were cool with the whole piano thing,” your face heats, smiling sheepishly at him.

“I wouldn’t say I’m great at this whole thing, though,” your thumb stops on a page you’d been writing on. Eddie diverts his attention on the half-filled page, head tilting down as he brings the notebook closer to his face.

You fear his judgment; not because you don’t trust him, but it leans more into what you’d gone through. That his criticism will be cruel, unkind and harsh like others had been, taking out all their negativity into the words you’d poured your mind onto, leaving without an apology or at least a clement admonition. 

There’s doubt that spreads across your mind. You watch as Eddie pokes his tongue out to graze his teeth, his thumbs drumming on your notebook, his own eyes flitting between your unaligned writing. But the smile that breaks across his charming face calms the dread down. Eddie looks at you, the crinkles on the corner of his eyes so endearing. 

“Lost in a purple hill, shake these zipper blues,” he reads out loud. “I like it. It’s very…savvy,”

“Savvy?”

“Savvy. Innovative. Creative,” you beam at him, your lips starting to ache from the bright smile you hold as Eddie’s head flips between your creative words and your contagious joy. “What? It’s amazing. Literally, all the words you can find in a dictionary that’s a synonym for creative. It’s—it’s that. W-what?”

His eyebrows join in a confused hill as the smile remains on his face, shaking his head at the shock that amalgamates with your glee. “Nothing,” you look away, feeling your entire body heating with the new sensation of appreciation. “I just thought it was kinda stupid. Like, maybe no one would understand it, y’know?”

Eddie’s thumb rubs his bottom lip. “Well, tell me what it means—hey, please?” he pouts playfully at you. “Tell me what it means, come on. I like it, I might as well know the meaning behind it, right?”

You shake your head in disbelief, placing the bottle on your shoulder to the space beside the two of you.  “Alright. Um, well, a hill right? You get up this hill and you feel disconnected from the world in…a good way. You- lose all toxicity and burden this place gives you. And I chose purple because, well, I like the color purple,” you laugh nervously. “And, zipper blues. It’s this depressed feeling you get from moving around too much. So you get lost up this hill, you get rid of that sorrow, and just disconnect all your problems. And, I don’t know if it makes any sense but—I’m rambling too much. I’m sorry—”

“No!” Eddie reaches out to place his hand on top of yours, quick and urgent to touch you again and the way his hand softens on you feels like he’d been substantially relieved to do something Eddie’s stopping himself from doing. Like water to a slowly dying flower, your heart blooms at the touch you’ve wanted to sense since earlier as he stops you from your ranting. “It’s okay. I- I get what you mean. And it’s…”

You feel him squeeze your hand gently. “It’s…?”

“I’m thinking of other cool words,”

You laugh bashfully, a laugh he copies. A laugh that reaches his eyes, went from deep into something high like a giggle until a small snort comes from him. You feel elated to make him laugh this way despite saying nothing. 

“It’s amazing, (y/n),” he doesn’t say Mandy, but it mantles your insides nonetheless. “You have other songs you’ve written?”

Toying with the neck of the beer, you nod. “I’ve got a couple of papers back in my place but, uh, I’m not exactly allowed to invite boys in my place yet.” he moues playfully. “But I could um, talk to you over it on the phone? Or give it to you tomorrow? I should just give it to you tomorrow, you don’t have to give me your number—”

Eddie squeezes your hand again. “Hey,” he chuckles at you. “Relax, Mandy. I’ll give you my number and we can talk, yeah?”

You feel like you’re waiting for an ice cream cone to be offered to you when Eddie plucks the pen behind your ear and writes his number down on the bottom of the page that he’s read. His writing is scrawny, unaligned like yours, capitalized when he leaves a note beneath the digits that you can’t read. He tells you not to read it yet after he offers to drive you home. 

The drive to your home was filled with small talk and music from the stack of cassettes on the back of his car. Ranging from Metallica to Judas Priest as said from the cases you gave him. And despite his attempt at his careful driving, the van sways against the uneven asphalt of the town streets. 

Eddie, with a hand on the steering wheel, has a hand hovering behind you as you twist your torso and lean towards the backseat to search for more cassette tapes. 

“What are you even looking for?” he asks, carefully turning left. You pick through the mountain of unarranged music, placing them next to each other when you see something you’re not looking for. “Careful. You might fall forward and I’ll just laugh at you.”

“I found it—turn right!” The wheels of his car screech at the sudden pivot, makes you clutch the grab handle and his arm, feet lifting off the clutch and onto the brakes where he presses lightly. “Fuck,”

“Sorry,” he pushes his hair out of his face, glancing at the cassette in your hand. “Oh, I didn’t know I have that,”

The black case of Reggatta De Blanc is clutched tightly in your hold. “I didn’t know you listened to The Police,” you flip it, scanning the back. “They’re my favorite band.”

“I didn’t know you listened to rock,” he’s still pressing lightly on the brakes to slow the van down, the smoke leaving the hood grows both your concerns. “I used to listen to them. Well, when I used to drive my Uncle to work when his car broke down for a while. Refused to listen to any of my tapes. Misfits? No. Iron Maiden? Still no. I mean, I get that he’s old, or something, but he has to try new things out!”

You open his player and withdraw Sisters of Mercy, prompting him to express his displeasure with a half-joking gasp and a short 'hey!' across the cut music. But you swiftly insert the tape to stop him. Eddie's fists clench over the peeling leather steering wheel, his gaze fixed on you.

“The Police, huh,” he grins at you. You swallow the upbeat tempo of Message in a Bottle, bopping your head to the introduction riff. Eddie’s head turns between the road and you. “Thought you’d be more Kate Bush, or something. Billy Joel. Madonna, maybe. Queen. Elton John. The Cure…”

With a twisted smile, you run your nails through the polyester filament yarn of your seatbelt. “I do. I don’t have a specific genre, Munson,” you turn to him. “I can like anything. Hell, I like W.A.S.P. And Joan Jett”

He gasps, turning right. “& The Blackhearts?”

“Fuck yeah,”

Eddie’s tongue clicks with the roof of his mouth, shaking his head. “What a potty mouth, Mandy.” his nose wrinkles when he laughs. Angelic, you think. A laugh a cult leader wouldn’t have; something Eddie would have. 

“Well, people usually don’t believe me,” you laugh timidly. “‘S like people need to like just one genre and make it their whole personality. Like, what if I like metal and pop at the same time?” his eyebrows raise a bit. “Sorry. N-no offense. It’s just…annoying, at times.”

You remember being twelve, recently having left Hawkins with a deep frown on your face. But you had a girl invited to your room in search of a new friend. With a borrowed boombox, you showed her Blue Öyster Cult after going through countless tapes of pop artists. And when she found out that the band had a different type of music, way different than the ones you’d just listened to, she’d told you: listening to different types of music makes you unbalanced. You need to stick to the one that makes you you. Or else people wouldn’t know who you are.

Wise words for a pretentious girl, you thought back then. Nevertheless, you believed her. 

For five years. 

But when you returned to Hawkins, you need reinvention. Because girls were only ever interesting when they’d reinvent themselves every once in a while to keep people hooked on. And you were tired of being unseen, invalidated; so you went back to your older self. Someone who played the piano but enjoys metal as much as Eddie Munson did, from what you’ve seen. You want to show him that side of you, in hopes for affirmation.

“None taken,” he breathes. “But, you’re right. No need to apologize.” your stomach buzzes with his accordance. “Metal’s just…me, though,” unlike earlier, Eddie turns the hazard before he turns. “So, I hope you don’t mind a man with a shag who’s a high school repeat’s driving you home, sweets,”

Sweets. Your whole body burns in the best way, biting back a smile. “No. I don’t mind. I like that.”

“I like that for you, though,” he gesticulates to you. “Being unashamedly yourself. Without aaany judgment whatsoever. And, uh, that’s amazing,” Eddie, although with his words genuine, smiles weakly and sweetly at you; harbors something that he wants to say but stops himself from doing so. “I should be like you more often.”

“I think you’re already being yourself,” your eyes trace the scratches on the windows, the slight blur on the corner of his windscreen; what once was a far distance of a motion blur of modern homes turns slower when Eddie’s foot lifts slowly from the accelerator. “I should be like you.”

“Trust me. You-...” when he looks at you, he visibly softens at your countenance. His adam's apple bobs in what seems to be rich poignance with the way his pupils slightly shrink when he flits his eyes away from you, only to dilate and almost take over his brown irises when they look back at you a mere second later. Eddie chuckles dryly, can't help but smile earnestly at you. “I like you as yourself, (y/n),”

Your hand compels you to reach for his. Like magnets forced to meet. But the console which separates you both hinders you from doing so. But maybe it was your fear; your lack of courage. A film reel in your mind that slides through its mid-tone dull colors of a possible incident — he’ll hold your hand tighter with the gentle caress of his calloused thumb that alleviates the rigorous pounding of your heart and smiles brighter than the ultraviolet sun. 

Or his face would twist in disgust and shove your hand back on your lap, lips curled into revulsion and he’d ask you what was wrong with you, reject any excuse that would come out of your mouth like they always did before he’d drop you home and ignore you like you didn’t exist.

Keep it together.

“Thanks,” you mumble, the pads of your thumbs come across the linear scars on your fingers. You see Eddie balk in his seat, lips pursed to make small incomprehensible sounds while he bobs his head to Message in a Bottle. Your house emerges, curtains drawn and run down car missing. Disappointedly, you press on the red button of the seat belt buckle. “Right here, Eddie.”

The van halts to a stop, passenger door right in front of the pathway to your small home. The radio lowers, the seat belt snapping back in place tickles your arm, and dismay wooshes with his loud ac. 

But Eddie leaves unexpectedly before you do, the unlocking sound of his car door disappears quicker than the door slamming shut. You watch as he crosses over with squinted eyes, until he reaches to open your door, bowing lightly with an arm stretched towards your house; a smile that reaches up his eyes and a dimple that comes with.

“M’lady,” he nods his head at you. You can’t help but laugh, picking the bag up from between your legs and slinging it over your shoulder, the heat adding an unfortunate ache on your eyes that shoots up to your head and almost burns any skin that’s exposed. Eddie notices. “‘S hot, isn’t it?”

“Unusually hot,” you shake your head. Eddie closes the door, walking on the unmowed grass on your small lawn until you both end up beneath the porch, in the shade that soothes you.

His eyes desecrate the components of your door, tracing the doorbell button, lips making small psh sh sounds before Eddie finally looks down at you. “Can I have your number?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “But I already have yours.”

“So I can call you anytime, Mandy,” he laughs heartily. “I can’t exactly save phone numbers, can I?”

You flush in embarrassment. “Right. Sorry,” you take the pen from behind your ear, reaching out. “Can I have your arm, please?”

Eddie smiles. “Lovely manners.”

He shows you his arm, a small, almost unnoticeable butterfly tattooed on his wrist where you write your number above it. “Nice tat,” you smile up at him, your own blue ink that’s botched to almost unusable decorates his pale skin.

“Yeah, I don’t really know how I got that,” his eye shuts, nose wrinkling, watches your eleven digits appear on his wrist along the veins. “Nice,” he sings. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to get going,” Eddie tugs on his bracelet, his feet lifting off the porch. “See you ‘round, Mandy. Shake those zipper blues beneath the burning solari for me, won’t you?”

You bid him goodbye with a sad wave, but you cover it with a smile.

Shake those zipper blues beneath the burning solari. Huh.

Morphine city slippin' dues

Down to see

That we don't even care

As restless as we are

It was a battle between who was gonna call first.

That day when Eddie drove back to the trailer, quietly as Wayne took a nap on the fold-up bed in the living room, he went inside his bedroom and locked the door. Barely was it night. Barely. Yet there he was, sitting on his bed clad in nothing but a random shirt and boxers as he waited for your call.

Nothing.

So he sat and played and thought and dreamed. 

Shake those zipper blues beneath the burning solari? What the fuck does that even mean?

The first ring on his phone, it hadn’t come from you. Mike Wheeler asked if he’d used any kind of shampoo on his hair, and what brand it had been. Eddie answered that it was three-in-one, no specific brand. Just anything he could afford. The second had come from Dustin, who’d asked about something DnD related that Eddie had already forgotten. 

And then the third was from Reefer Rick, who was put on probation and asked how he was and honestly, the phone call lasted for two hours. A conversation that barely included any drug talk whatsoever and simply what had happened in their lives.

So obviously, Eddie couldn’t help but mention you. Minus your name for safety reasons.

“Shit, dude. She’s… she’s nice. She’s smart and she writes songs like I do and she plays the piano. And I actually met her before! ‘S just that I don’t exactly-... remember it, y’know?”

“Don’t tell me you’re fallin’ in love, kid.”

“I’m not!”

“You know about love and how dangerous it is, don’t you?”

He did. 

Like a dangerous game of Dungeons and Dragons.

Yet there he was, the sun gone and the skies Stygian, painted with scattered specks of the burning stars and the crescent moon. Eddie’s patience had slowly been wilting, his knee bounced on the floor and his ass was sore from sitting too long on his lumpy mattress. A notebook in hand with his own clusterfuck of rhyming words with deep elucidations in hopes you’d be talking about songwriting. 

And when the phone rang, he stood up faster than the speed of light and he took the handset off the wall and pressed it up to his tingling ears. 

“Hello?”

A huff of a laugh. “Hey, Eds.”

Eds. Eds Eds Eds Eds. 

His heart palpitated; a ruthless attack of the Cupid’s red piercing arrow shot through his heart. Eddie Munson rested his hand against the wall and the other tight on the phone receiver as his knees liquified from your giggle. 

“Hey there, Mandy.”

“I took your lyric, by the way,” he could only imagine what you looked like that night—pajamas, sleep shorts, a crop top, or a random band shirt he thinks you’d totally have, you’d still be pretty nonetheless. “Shake those zipper blues beneath the burning solari. It’s very impressive. Kinda making me not want to give you credit here,”

Eddie shook his head in playful disbelief and turned over to rest his back on the wall with a silly smile and a belly full of butterflies. “I’d very much appreciate the credit. At least then the world would know who I was.”

A playful sound of consideration kisses his eardrums. “Maybe. Yeah, sure. I’ll give you credit.”

Since then, phone calls had been filled with exchanged conceptualizations and words written with a botched ballpen onto crumpled pieces of papers; Eddie would see you in school, too. Passing each other shy smiles, listening to music in his van as he offers to drive you home, his hand discreetly turning back to you to pass notes during History. He no longer found the random fuzz on his table interesting and thought that the girl who answered his notes that ended each message with a smiley face was way more interesting than anything else in the world.

Maybe DnD and metal, too. But you came in first.

And every night, after a campaign or band practice, after his uncle would wish him farewell before heading off to work, the usual jejune midnights had turned into cavorting twilight nights. Before he knows it, he’s already brushing his teeth at six pm, like you’d smell his breath through the phone, and bounces his knee in anticipation in front of the phone. 

One night, when Wayne stayed home to get some proper rest, he'd noticed how Eddie had barely left the room to watch the tv with him, or how he hasn't played a guitar in weeks, or suddenly rush out a farewell to meet his friends.

He took a peek in the crack of his bedroom door, saw how his nephew had a lovesick smile as he laid on the floor with the phone on his ear babbling about things that has happened on his day or something about his past.

"You've been hogging up the phone, Eddie. I've got someone to call too, you know?"

Poor Eddie yelped, almost dropping the phone to the ground. Wayne chuckles, walking over to him which made Eddie clutch the phone to his chest. Wayne claps his shoulder.

"Yeah like who? That recently divorced mom beside Kapinsky's trailer?"

He jested to his uncle, who barks out a laugh. "Probably. I'm not the only one trying to woo girls here, son,"

"I- I'm not trying to woo him, man! I'm just-... trying to be her friend."

Wayne huffs with a smile and a light shake of his head.

It went on for weeks; countless calls that he didn't realize months had passed. Every day, every night, you’d become his friend; conversations started turning into somewhat remedial talks other than songwriting, telling each other the stories in your lives that none had experienced, talking shit of the judgementals and the great pretenders, and gave each other keys to your hearts for safekeeping.  

“What ever happened to Benny’s Burgers?”

“Heard some Russian kid got him killed, or something. Jason’s using it for his orgies now. Like ritualistic sacrifices are way more important than teenagers having sex all together. The children of god hath given into their temptations! Those gents might not but repent their sins for foul fornication!” 

“Eddie, I don’t care if you sell drugs. Half the kids in my old school in Queens sold them. Would almost kill each other for ‘stealing’ their clients. Hell, even half of the NYPD sold drugs.”

“In all honesty, it’s weird how you’re so normal about this.”

“My mom died when I was a baby. The orphanage had different answers on how I ended up there, though. My dad died, he was in jail, he dumped me there. But it doesn’t matter — I’ve got a new family now, anyway.”

“My old man’s in prison. Haven’t talked to him in years. My mom died too, so at least we have that in common, eh?”

“Sometimes I wish people cared. Like-... sometimes I wish they’d see me; stop treating me like a ghost and ask ‘hey, what songs can you play on the piano?’ and all that shit. ‘Hey, are you okay? What’d you feel about getting left at an orphanage? Sorry, I hit you on the shoulder.’ And all that stuff.”

“‘M kinda tired of being seen as a freak. I know everybody has their own thing. But sometimes I… wish I liked the same thing everybody else did. But that’s the thing about society and their codependency on approval — you like something that people think is far from normal, or something that people say isn’t- trendy, you’re a freak. I mean, sorry I like playing a fantasy game than Monopoly. Or- that I like Eddie Van Halen than Olivia Newton-John.”

“Hey, you love Olivia Newton-John!”

Laying in his bed of lumps and stains, Eddie imagined he’s in a field. The tall grass stroking his inked skin, the clouds that hover over him, all his devotion laid upon the clouds that mutate into your silhouette, which beguiles him more. And even when his visual morphs the sky gray and lets its sickening tears drip down onto him, he stares up at this cloud indentation of you that looks back at him. Until it’s blown away and he finally sees your spellbinding beauty. 

“Hey,” your voice startled him. “Still there, or you’re asleep?”

“No. This is Eddie’s soul speaking. He’s very asleep,” his jest was followed by an obnoxious snore that made you laugh brightly. He smiles. “Yeah, no. I’m still here. Sorry,���

“It’s okay,” you softly said. “Hey, um, my neck’s aching.”

He frowned. “Oh. Do you wanna continue this tomorrow?” Eddie twirls the cord around his finger, trapping the phone between his neck and ear.

“No,” you sighed. “Keep talking, please?”

“Okay,” Eddie cleared his throat. “Band practice went well. We, uh, learned a new song. Something that’s not metal. Gareth was kind of a bitch about it but hey, there’s no harm in trying something new.”

“Really?” he nodded, remembering you were not there before he said ‘yes’. “What song is it?”

Eddie turned to his side, facing his Blue Öyster Cult poster. “It’s a surprise, Mandy,” his scoff etched a smile on his frivolous face. “You’ll hear it when you come to Hideout.”

“Shame,” he thought you’d been pouting. Playfully, with your pink lip jutted out. “What should I wear when I watch, though?”

“Anything you want,” it made him panic a little; he didn’t have an outfit for the show. Eddie sat up, his foot knocking over an empty bottle that fell down on his floor that thankfully did not break but was loud enough to disrupt you.

“What was that?” you had asked. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he clutched his ankle, face crumbling in pain. “Yeah, babe, I’m alright,”

Shit.

He sensed it then. When your breathing went silent, when his heart stopped beating for a millisecond, the way your mind registered what he said the same time he did. Eddie’s body had loosened in panic.

“Okay,” you finally said, quiet and gentle. “Um, careful.”

“Thanks,” he almost said it again, getting himself distracted. “Thanks, (y/n),”

A pregnant pause. Eddie was massaging his ankle with a look that berated him for his idiotic freudian slip. He scolded himself by bumping the sore spot against the foot of his bed, hard enough that another loud thump was heard and tears brimmed the edge of his eyes.

“Okay, seriously, what is going on in there?” you chuckled incredulously. 

“Nothing!”

“You know what? You should come here before you accidentally trip on a knife.”

Eddie’s head dipped. “I thought you weren’t allowed to invite boys in your home?”

“I can rebel, you know,” he felt an eye roll. “Besides, my parents aren’t home and- I’m bored. And my neck hurts and everything’s better when you’re here.”

He deceived himself into thinking you meant nothing in the last part. Eddie felt the warmth rise to his cheeks then, something he’d grown familiar to seeing as it only happens when he’s with you. 

“Sure,” he picked up a random pair of shoes beneath his bed and opened his drawer to pull out the finest pair of jeans he owned. “Be there in a couple of minutes.”

That night, he parked his van a few houses from yours, and he immediately spotted the purple curtain of your windows. The light dimmed with the yellow warmth of your lamp, your silhouette moving across with something rectangular in your hand that he can only assume was your notebook. He felt slightly eccentric.

Eddie, ever the man who loves to put on a good show, decided to climb up the side of your home using the uneven ridges of the brick wall and your pipes. His palms had lightly scratched against the rough surface of the bricks, where he used all his strength to lift himself up until his head peeks through your window.

When his forearms rested on the stool of your window, he propped himself on one arm and used his left hand to knock rhythmically on the glass. Eddie saw your silhouette stop pacing, your shadow growing as you near your window and pulled the curtains back.

He’d smiled, bigger when he saw your shocked, wide-eyed gaze. Eddie knows you’re berating him when he hears your muffled rambling. You unlatched the window and pulled it up, your hands clutching his bare elbows.

“You idiot!” you hissed. “I told you my parents are gone. And you come up through the window? Are you insane? You could break your back or stab yourself with the bushes!”

Eddie fell face down, his cheek meeting your carpeted floor. He pressed his palms on the ground, pulling his entire body in until he flopped on your floor. And when he finally fixed himself and rids of the leaves and dirt that stuck to him, he stood up. And you slap his arm.

He gawped at you. “Ow!” he pouts, massaging his arm. “You wound me.”

“Relax,” Eddie took his shoes off. “It was just a slap, you drama queen.”

Eddie’s eyes wandered across your body. You were wearing a band shirt: Dead or Alive. He didn’t know who they were. But he didn’t care because then he’s got his eyes on your exposed legs, black sleep shorts that barely come across half your thighs and it made him swallow thickly, his blood flowing everywhere and god forbid had he popped a boner right in the middle of your room, he would have jumped out your window and broke his neck instead.

“Y-you know me,” his voice cracked the slightest. “Always a queen. Which is why I love the Queen. Not the Queen of England. The band, I mean. Well, I listen to them occasionally.”

You sat on your bed, kicking his shin. “I know, dummy.”

That had been a couple of nights ago.

Now he’s sitting bored, fourth row in the second lane, his chin on his palm, right hand drawing a small bat on the corner of his notebook. Along with some other words until he quietly rips the page off, folds it, and takes it in his hand before he moves it behind him.

Eddie feels the paper slip off his fingers. He thinks of your smile, whether it be a toothy grin, a closed lip or the one that made your teeth shine prettily. His body shivers from head to toe, cheeks tingling while his knee bounces in anticipation.

A light graze on his bare elbow startles him, the heel of his foot knocking against the metal leg of his seat. He takes the paper from the corner of his table, silently unfolding it.

I think that’s a bad idea.

Offended, he writes. I just said hi >:(

He gets a quick reply after he gives it to you. I can smell you thinking. I’m like a vampire. And I’m already telling you that filling someone’s locker with shaving cream is boring and a bad idea.

You snicker when he takes a quick glance at you with a silent gasp. Then what do you suggest we do?

Fill it with shaving cream and stick someone’s hair in it. It’s grosser.

It’s followed by a brief drawing of two stick people, one with a small triangular skirt and one with a guitar in it’s hand, in front of a crooked rectangle which he assumes is the locker, the door opened and curved drawings oozing out. And some small, clustered lines that represent the hair you’d told him about.

Eddie smiles brightly, folding it and shoving it in his pocket before he shoots you a silly smile. 

The bell rings, obnoxious and almost deafening. Eddie stands from his seat, watching you meticulously gather your stuff together, hands gently pushing your items inside your bag. He sits on his table, waiting.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Mandy,” He tucks his book on his torso, watching you sling your bag over your shoulder and narrow your eyes at him. “It’s a great idea,”

“I’m not one for bullying, but I think, even though I contributed to your prank knavery, it’s pretty tame and shit,” 

Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you, slapping the top of the door as he passes through. “Oh yeah? Give me something better, do tell.”

“I say fill the locker with water, but then it’ll just slip out,” he towers over you. Sometimes he likes to take advantage of the fact that people would move out of his way merely because they didn’t want to be touched or grazed by him like some disease; he can move faster. “Or we can get your little shrimps to make some machine type of thing that could explode in their locker.”

“Who? Dustin?” Eddie bumps his shoulder with yours. “I mean, yeah could be. And we can just blame it on him,”

“Great idea,” your face wrinkles in confusion. “Wait, who’s locker are you destroying, anyways?”

“Gareth’s,”

Your nose wrinkles. “What did Gareth ever do to you?”

“Breathing,” he sighs. “Anyway, are you doing something later?”

Even in a clustered hallway, Eddie finds it in himself to get the wind knocked out of him when you look up with pensive eyes. Your mouth parts, the ends of your front teeth peeking just a bit from beneath your top lip. You blink and your eyebrows widen.

“Nothing. Homework, maybe. Or just writing again,” his heart pangs at the sad sigh you let out. “Wanna come over?”

He brightens.

-

Eddie lays on your thick mattress, hands clasped together on top of the notebook that lays open on his chest. Eddie scans every saxe glory of your blue walls, smelling the citrus fragrance of your new white sheets. It’s soft, maybe softer than the field up weathertop, and comforting. You sit on the edge of the bed, W.A.S.P. playing out loud but not loud enough for a complaint. 

He turns his head to you, sees how your back is hunched with your notebook on your lap and your fingers drumming on the sides with your pen wedged in between your lips. Eddie leans up, peering over your shoulder.

I put my heart on a piece of paper and you throw it away(?) my heart’s on a string around my neck and

Half the page is scribbled words and annotations with doodles of flowers on the corners. The annoyance radiates off the inelegance of your structure, the bite marks that deepen on the plastic cap of your black pen, and your eyebrows that meet in the middle. Eddie wants to kiss your worry lines away, taking your face in his hands and wonder how, despite the agitated expression, could someone still look so pretty?

Taking his pen from beneath the notebook, he takes the cap off with his teeth. Eddie props himself up on one hand, crosses his arm over yours and presses the black tip on your lined page.

Hi. Notice me pls :(

You laugh cordially, snapping your head to him with your chin on your shoulder and his chin on your bicep, his bottom lip jutting out from the lack of attention. 

“What’s up, Mands, huh?” his chin nudges your arm. You soften. “Writer’s block?”

“Writer’s block are for authors,” you say in a small voice.

“Writers. Songwriters. Semantics,” Eddie purses his lips. “Do you wanna turn the radio off? It’s what usually ruins the whole thinking thing, sometimes.”

“No,” you pout. “Maybe I just need a break. I don’t even know why I’m so upset about this. ‘S so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Eddie readjusts himself, his upper body being propped up by his arm with his legs spread on your mattress, knocking your arm with his temple. “Tell me why you’re upset. Come on.” 

You ruminate, staring deep into his eyes. “God, I don’t know, Eddie. It’s like my mind’s all hazy these days. It won’t work. Everytime I try to finish this stupid song, I- my mind just stops. It’s like I’ve forgotten the English dictionary, or something. I feel so illiterate. A freakin- a fucking ten year old could make a christmas jingle faster than I can finish this stupid stanza.” you slam your pen in the middle, closing your eyes in a deep sigh. “It’s tiring— I’m sorry. I talk too much.”

Eddie wants to draw this out. Close the space that’s almost not even there and take you into his arms as he heeds the words you avow with the silk petal of your voice that burrs when you tiptoe the edge of a breakdown. But you’re already looking away from him with a visible wobble of your bottom lip.

“Hey, hey,” he finally sits, ignoring the ache on his arm when he limits himself by touching your shoulder rather than grasping your chin; there’s still the lingering hesitation of crossing boundaries when it comes to physical contact, and he doesn’t want to drive you away. “You don’t talk too much. I love listening to you talk,”

A shimmer in your eyes from the tears that coat your irises. You blink rapidly and smile weakly. “Thanks. That’s- that’s nice.”

“You know what,” he plops to his stomach, reaching over to the ground where his open bag laid and took out two cans of Budweiser, warm with dents on the silver tin. “Let’s drink— just one! Have you ever tried?”

“I told you I used to live in New York. The only things I haven’t tried are coke and marijuana,” you take the can from him. “My dad gave me beer when I was fifteen. Not exactly great parenting but, we were alone and he didn’t know what to feed me.”

He opens the can and drinks the bitter alcohol with ease, letting it leave a burning sensation on his tongue as he watches you do the same. Eddie chortles when your face rumples in distaste, a frown replacing your woeful pout. 

“You alright there, Mands?” He raises a brow. “Sure your daddy didn’t give you apple juice?”

“Jesus christ,” you clear your throat. “I’m starting to think he did.” Eddie gently takes the can from you when you give it to him, gently placing it on your bedside table. “You know, Fred Benson has a party a couple blocks from here.”

Eddie takes another athirst sip. “Who?”

“Fred. The guy with glasses who’s with Nancy? I sat with him during lunch?”

“Oh right!” He sets his beer beside yours. “He’s nice. He put Hellfire Club in the student yearbook.”

“We should loosen up a bit,” you stand up, stretching your limbs and wince at the ache on your back. Your Beatles shirt, cut up to a midriff, exposes your stomach, a small scar just on the side of your hip and it makes Eddie flustered. He looks down at his hands. “We should go to the party.”

Eddie hops off your bed with the twist of his legs. “You can’t just leave. What about your parents?”

“I can rebel,” you repeat playfully. “And since when do you care about all that stuff, guy-who-got-arrested-once-when-he-sold-weed-to-an-undercover-cop?"

“I care when it comes to you,” he says softly, and he thinks you must have been pretending not to hear what he said. “Gonna call them or leave a note?”

“Gonna tell them I’ll sleep at Nancy’s,” you pull your drawer open and take a yellow sticky note out, scribbling down. Eddie takes his shoes from beside your bedroom door, frowning at the smudged dirt on the heel of his right shoe before he slips them on. “Can you wait outside? I’m gonna change.”

-

You looked breathtaking.

Embellished in a simple dress that stopped just above your knees, a pair of high-cut canvas sneakers that needed a bit of washing; a jubilant vogue that beguiles him, lifting him off his jittery fee. Your adroit hands accoutred in rings with lilliputian gems, warped around your dexterous fingers in delicate silver wires. And your hair, free from all its restraint, flowing down your shoulders. 

Driving to Fred’s house, you looked like a bright star found in the darkness of Eddie’s van. Sat on his seat, listening to all his metal mixtapes and headbanging to the songs you found endearing. His heart quivers whenever you awe at mixtapes you find in the back of his car. 

You were beautiful.

Covet reigns his cynical heart; he yearns to touch you. Wrapping his arm around your waist, holding your hand, or taking your face into his palms and telling you all the things that’ll make you smile. He wants to fortify you from all the savage things that ought to hurt you; Eddie yearns to proclaim his devotion into a dulcet whisper until he feels the rapidness of your heartbeat that thumps against his. 

But confusion regnants. He doesn’t know why he feels this way for a friend who simply knocked the wind out of him by wearing a simple dress. Then again, he thinks if it were any other person, they’d feel the same way. It’s you. You and your kind, shy, delicate heart that he wants to keep.

You, that he’s also lost.

It has been an hour since you guys have arrived. Maybe more than an hour. Eddie doesn’t know, but when he glances at his watch, it’d already been eleven in the evening. He wasn’t fond of parties but when it came to you and anything related to your happiness, he’d tolerate it. And for the first time in his life, in a house full of alcohol, he’s still sober. For your sake.

You told him you’d go to the bathroom, and he waited at some couch, stuck between two very drunk people who made out and completely forgot that they’re sitting right next to Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson. But, in all honesty, it felt nice not having someone run away as soon as they saw him. 

But when twenty minutes pass, where he debates on fetching you in case something happened, or thought maybe you were taking a shit, he ultimately decides to search for you. 

Foreigner guides him between the sweaty limbs of drunk teens and students who’ve already graduated high school but remained in Hawkins (aka Steve Harrington. He saw a glimpse of his voluptuous hair towering over the crowd). 

“I wanna know where (y/n) is,” he sings subconsciously. “I want you to show me,”

And then, he sees you. In a situation that proves his nagging thoughts right.

Standing against the wall is a drunk you. And lo and behold, Steve Harrington peers over you with a flushed face that spreads up to his neck, shirt unbuttoned like he’s seducing you with the jungle on his chest. Eddie feels the bottom of his stomach twist uncomfortably, a twinge of jealousy floating within the acids inside. 

He pushes the people away, as gently as he could, making his way toward you. 

“I know— Eddie!” you gasp, pushing away from the wall. You open your arms and fall against him, wrapping your limbs around his torso tightly so that it makes him just as shocked as Steve was. “Where have you been?”

“I was waiting,” a hand massages your forearm, the other resting cautiously on your back. “You said that I stay there.”

“Have you met Steve?” Eddie smiles tightly at him. He tries to hide his disappointment when you uncurl an arm from him. 

“Yeah, I met him,” he says softly. “Dustin kept on talking about him.”

Steve’s eyebrows raise in bewilderment. “Uh- yeah. Nice seeing you again, man.” he nods his head at him. “Haven’t seen you since I left highschool,”

“Kinda surprised you’re still here,”

He narrows his eyes at Eddie. “I could say the same,” Steve runs his hand through his hair, shifting all his weight on his left leg. “Didn’t you repeat high school?”

You gasp beneath Eddie, turning your head at him. “You repeated high school?”

“Didn’t I tell you that?”

“Yeah but I forgot,” you rub your nose with the side of your finger. “I’m sorry. That must have sucked.”

It used to. Until you came back. 

Eddie’s mouth parts, but all that could come out was. “Wanna go back home?”

“I haven’t peed yet,”

“You’ve been talking to Steve for twenty minutes?” he exclaims his disdain over this fact, tightening his arm around you without even realizing it. “Alright, I’m taking you up to the bathroom,”

“Hey hey hey,” Steve reaches out to grasp Eddie’s elbow, clumsily but tight as he can see the drunken gloss in his eyes. “Where’d you think you’re going?”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said?”

“Oh I heard it loud and clear,” he scoffs. “You’re not taking a drunk girl to the toilet, Munson.”

Eddie turns, hiding you behind him and lets you pick on the loose thread of his vest. “And what do you expect me to do? Let her piss herself in here?” he wonders wherever Steve found the nerve to act all protective over you. “Sending her up there alone is more dangerous, Harrington.”

“And you think I’ll let you take her up there?”

“Hey, excuse me,” with your hands around Eddie’s torso, you spin, your cheek right on the DIO print of his vest. “If you’re thinking that Eddie would take advantage of me, h’wont. You don’t know him. He- he won’t do what you’re thinking,” you narrow your eyes at him. “You know, if you people would just take the time to get to know him, you’d know that he’s not a freak. Or that he’d sacrifice me to the devil, or some shit. He’s a really nice person and you’re just—judgemental morons. And I really need to fucking pee.”

Your sweet mien is stripped off. An austere look makes Steve stumble back, face flushed in embarrassment than inebriation. He sputters out an apology, his eyes sobering in genuity. But surprisingly, he apologizes to Eddie. “I’m just drunk. I know it’s not an excuse but… she’s my friend.”

Still, with your words that left his heart unveiling and pounding like a fast drum bass, Eddie nods his head at him in slight forgiveness. “I get it, man. No hard feelings.”

(But he still is jealous that Henderson liked him more.)

Eddie takes you into his arms, smiles reassuringly at you as he pushes your hair out of your face, and leads you up to the nearest bathroom.

Lamented and assured

To the lights and towns below

Faster than the speed of sound

Faster than we thought we'd go

Beneath the sound of hope

Eddie Munson had only been in love once.

But maybe he’s wrong.

You sit patiently in the passenger seat, swaying to a Barry Manilow mixtape you found in Fred’s house that Eddie didn’t stop you from taking. He watches you from inside the convenience store, the beep of the scanner faint as well as the jingle of coins.

He bids a quiet goodbye to the cashier and pockets his change, holding two water bottles in his hand, sauntering to his vibrating van, and hopping in with ease.

Your eyes snap open, wide in its demiurgic inebriation. Eddie shuts the car door, placing his bottle on the cup holder in front of the gear shift so he could open yours to save you the struggle before he hands it to you. “Sober up, princess,”

Although half-drunk, you manage to swallow his sobriquet and flush. Princess. Babe. Mandy. What’s next? Love of my life?

God, I kinda hope so.

Eddie’s got his eyes on you, searching for any signs of struggle as you open the bottle with a small grunt before you bring the plastic up to your lips, swallowing heavily. Your eyes flutter shut, eyelashes caressing the gentle skin of your cheeks as you moan.

“Shit,” you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “What’s in the water?”

“Special K,” he jokes, opening his own. “You sober yet?”

“I can physically feel it-” you gesture your hands to yourself, waving it in a downward motion as you swallow the thick saliva on the edge of your tongue. “-disappear. I can feel it go down to my bladder.”

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he faces the steering wheel and twists the key in the ignition. “Just make sure you don’t have to pee yet. I’m gonna take you somewhere,”

You screw the cap back on, tugging on the ends of your dress as solemn curiosity makes you look up at him through your eyelashes. “Ooh. Where ya takin’ me, Eds?”

“It’s a surprise,” he pulls out of the parking lot, watching carefully from the rearview mirror with his eyes squinted. “I take Dustin up there every morning to talk to his girlfriend. But there’s a special spot I’m taking you.”

“Dustin has a girlfriend?” you gasp. “I always thought he made that up,”

“Oh, but she’s very real,” 

Tucking the bottle beneath your chin, you wriggle your brows at him with a skittish look. It enamors him, and it can’t stop him from turning his head at you and smiling softly. He wishes this would last — a fortuitous moment of abundant reposefulness, in his shitty van with your presence gracing the darkness of his world. 

Your face reappears in the darkness whenever a streetlight passes by. And every spark, you grow even more beautiful despite the intoxication that drops a barbell onto your eyelids. Eddie watches the buildings disappear, replaced by old trees, huddled together beside the road that swishes and collides with the passing breeze. 

With the doo-wop music pleasing to your ears, you hum beneath your breath, hand reaching out to roll the windows down and peak your head out. The wind strokes your skin headily, but the attempt to sober you is in vain. At least, with the alcohol that’s left in your system; you're clearheaded enough to register the lyrics from the radio and Eddie’s words of carefulness. 

Unable to detach his eyes from the lengthy road, Eddie filches every moment he’d glance at you out of worry you’d get your head decapitated off a pole or anything that passes by. 

But the sight of you with your back arched against the open window, hands in the air and your hair across your tipsy face was enough to relieve his worry. Were his eyes cameras, he’d taken every picture at every blink he took and kept in his mind. Just in case he’d never see such an unfathomable sight again.

“Hey, Mandy,” he yells slightly. “Having fun there, girl?”

“Totally,” you sigh, teeth gleaming. “Are we there yet, Munson? The inside of my mouth’s getting all dry here.”

“Get back inside, then,” he glouts playfully. “We’re almost there, babe.”

He’s getting really fucking comfortable with those petnames, now. 

You slither yourself back inside, slumping on his chair, your dress ridden up to your thighs. Eddie blushes from his face to his chest, snapping his eyes back on the road as you squirm on your seat, tugging on the ends until you’ve settled properly and rose the window up halfway. 

He tugs on the collar of his Paranoid shirt, a stark contrast to his exposed, opalescent skin. “You had fun poking your head out the window?” he cocks a brow. “Or do you still wanna go chase the cars that pass by thinkin’ they’re treats?”

“Dick,” you kick his shin, dirt smudging on his blue jeans. 

Eddie stops beside a broken fence, the vibration of his van coming to a halt when he twists the keys from the ignition and pulls it off. You blindly open the car door much to his dismay, and hop off with bleary feet. He does the same, shuts the door the same time you did and watches you cross over the van until you stand in front of him.

But you look at the hills, high and dark; its luscious green grass unseen by the darkness. He watches your jaw relax and your blinks decelerate. 

“We’re gonna walk up there?” you say smally, fiddling with your rings. 

“You don’t wanna?” his left eye narrows, a small pout coming up to draw itself on his face. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna. I can try to drive my car up the hill. Unless you also don’t wanna climb up the hill then I can just take you wherever you wanna go.”

You shake your head, tugging on his leather bracelet, hooking your finger around the ornament and crossing the shattered fence. “I can do it. I’m—I’m sober enough. I think I just have to remove my shoes. Hold on,”

He crosses the fence first, planting his feet on the ground as you use him as leverage. You balance yourself on one foot, pulling on the laces of your shoes and pulling it until he sees your socks—blue covered in black bats. Eddie takes your shoe as you do the same to the other, until he’s got your high-cuts in one hand, and the other being pulled by you.

Everything was untroubled. Laughs shared when he trips and scrapes his bare knee on the uncut grass; your socks darkened by the damp soil, his white Reeboks the same. And Eddie matches your heavy huffs, the remaining energy on his body on his legs that continue to lift him up the hill.

When you reach the top, you half-yell in relief, bending with your hands on your knees. Eddie sets your shoes down, letting himself fall on his ass. Once you’ve obtained your spent breath, you plop down beside him. 

“Holy shit,” you press your hands on the earth below, shifting to rest on your knees. “Eds, we can see Hawkins from here,”

You see the lights that brighten up the town. The miniscule homes of the village from across,  the burnt Starcourt mall, the sirens that lead its way to the Hospital and the variegated radiance from the arcade. You gawp silently.

“Exactly why I took you up here,” he tugs down on your dress when the wind blows it up, keeping his eyes at your face. “And if you look very closely, or if you have the eyes of an owl, you can see the trailer park.”

He laughs amusingly when you squint your eyes. Eddie knows if he can’t see it, so can’t you. But you try, nonetheless. 

“I don’t see it,” you lament, sitting back down beside him. Eddie tries to ignore the weight you rest on his arm; the pinky that grazes his behind your backs for anchor, and how your bare legs graze his jeans but despite the covering, he can feel the heat radiating off your body. 

“You’ll see it better when the sun’s up,” he leans on his right arm, shoulder bumping yours when he reaches for his Lucky Strike pack. Eddie flips it open, his small lighter lodged to the side of his cigarettes. You peer over, chin on his shoulder. He pulls out one, sticking it between his middle and index before he uses his thumb to pull his lighter out. 

Then he looks at you, nose beside yours with the minimal proximity. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“No,” you say. “My dad smokes. The dad who adopted me, I mean.”

“I know,” he smiles before he sticks the cigarette between his lips. He shoves his pack back on his pocket, sitting back down. “Do you smoke?”

The question was muffled through a lisp, but was still understandable. “Haven’t tried,” you answer. “But I almost did. It was weed, actually, that shit you sell? When I came back during summer, Steve picked me up and he asked me if I wanted to get high,”

“Really?” The cigar bobs when he speaks, the hand that cups over lowers slightly, his thumb stopping on the sparkwheel. “How long have you and Harrington been friends?”

He finally lights it up, the white paper burning into a crisp orange until smoke begins to vent. “Since middle school. Met him after my parents adopted me from my foster care. They took me to Hawkins, our house was near his, and we were invited to dinner by Steve’s parents when they were still present in his life.”

A burning jealousy on the pit of his stomach, ignited not by the lighter. “Were you good friends?”

“I’d like to think we were,” you tilt your head back and look at him. Eddie feels your pinky tap his, which he taps back. “When his parents started going on business trips, and mine were…well, working in Hawkins, Steve and I hung out in either his bedroom or mine,” you smile at him. “But, we rarely talked when I left for New York. It was a phone call every three months. And then he picked us up at the airport,” 

He lets the smoke leave the corner of his lips, on the other side where you weren’t. “Did he, uh, tell you all that shit about Henderson and Wheeler?”

“Through the phone. It’s kind of crazy,” his heart flutters at your light smile. “You know, I’m not sure if I should tell you this shit or not, but he told me about this whole thing about- monsters, and all that crap. Demogorgons, demodogs, the Upside Down. The Mind Flayer-”

“What, like DnD?” Eddie snorts. “Maybe the little shrimp talked to him about it, who knows,”

“I mean, he was half-drunk when he told me,” your lips purse. “Either he played DnD, or he dreamt about it. I mean, I asked Nancy about the Starcourt fire but she wouldn’t tell me anything!”

Eddie takes another puff, a long one that reaches his lungs. “‘M pretty sure he was just stoned,”

“What about you?” he sees you observe the cigarette, but he’s sure you’d been looking at his hands first and his dimly lit rings. “How’d you know him?”

He taps his finger on the rod, chunks falling down on the grass on the minimal space between your legs. “High school,” his lips twist into a frown. “I had my first senior year with him. And- uh, he was a douchebag. King Steve,” Eddie nods his head, a sardonic smile offered to you. “And when Henderson came and said that he was awesome, kept on insisting, actually, it was hard to believe.”

“Did he ever, uh,”

“Call me a freak?” he finishes. “Once. Twice. Dunno. We crossed paths but never really met, I guess. We knew we existed in each other’s lives but we never really acknowledged. He was too gung ho on Nancy Wheeler,”

You chortle, a plain snort leaving you that renders him amused. “Oh, God. Nancy. D’you know Steve wouldn’t stop talking about her whenever he called me.”

“You ever get jealous?”

He hopes you say no. Never did. He’s my friend. Only ever liked him as a friend. I don’t like his hair, I don’t like his smug smile. Eddie doesn’t care if it deems him jealous. But there’s nothing bad in hoping, right?

“No,” you ponder for a bit. “Maybe,”

His heart sinks.

“Only because I wished someone talked about me the way he did to Nancy,” a pensive gloss covers your irises, lit by the vibrant colors of the town upon your grazing knees and swaying feet. “He sounded so in love. And I always thought about how she would feel if she knew someone talked about her like that.”

He sighs. “You never know,”

You think he’s in thought, with the way his shoulder presses against yours absentmindedly and the silence that’s drawn out from his peart mien. 

“I had this dream when I was a kid,” you whisper. “That I was the greatest pianist in the world. I was singing with Billy Joel and—everybody knew who I was,” Eddie smiles. “And, ever since that dream, I’ve taught myself how to be one of the greatest pianists in the World,”

You exert amenity towards him when he laughs bemusingly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” your eyebrows furrow for a split second. 

A sudden memory climbs its way to his head. “Do you remember back in middle school? We, uh, hung out a lot after the talent show. And- and all we did was play music,” He says it with slight uncertainty; he himself can barely remember all those times yet he based on a single memory. “We played this one song all the time.”

“Does Everyone Stare,” you answer. “The Police.”

“That one,” he nods his head. “Because it was the only song we knew how to play that had guitars and pianos.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you nod. “I can’t believe we forgot each other,”

“But I do remember some parts,” he takes a short hit. “You said that you wanted to marry Billy Joel, and then you kept on bragging to me how you could play Die Young like, fifty times,”

“Only the Good Die Young!” you correct him. “God, yes! I played that even when I was in Queens. My grandma loved that song.”

“I always wondered why you had a huge crush on him. He was old,”

“He was not!” you gasp.

Eddie shrugs, lips curling in amusement when a huff leaves his nose. “Yes he was! And it was a good reason for me to get jealous, too,”

Shit.

If he could, he’d ululate his stupidity into the sky and embarrass himself further because it’s already out now, isn’t it? But confirming your jealousy didn’t mean he’d harbored feelings for you, right? He could be jealous for other reasons like…

He doesn’t remember.

“Jealous?” you repeat. “You were jealous of Billy Joel because I liked him?”

“We were kids. Hell, I got jealous when Tommy H. brought his Nintendo to school. Or when Barb Holland—may she rest in peace—won class president. I get jealous all the time,” he snickers. “Don't let it get into your big head, Mandy.”

Double crossed between his lies and what you truly perceive, you shake your head mirthly. “Yeah. Okay, Munson.” you roll your eyes at him. “God I… whenever I played that song, I always imagined I was in a concert. With this… huge grand piano. I’d play for those snobby rich people, then I’d get roses thrown at me. I’d play so hard my fingers would bleed and they’d give me a standing ovation,”

Eddie smiles. “What a dream,” he looks away, chin on his neck when he looks down on his lap. “I’d be your first ever watcher. Then I’ll throw tomatoes at you and boo you off the stage,”

He looks back at you and you laugh jovially. 

The muddle of alcohol in your head almost makes you miss how his jaw clenches and his eyes soften. A solemn twinkle in his button eyes, nostrils flaring as he stares at you with the smoke on his cigarette flowing between the tangled strands of his hair. 

Suddenly nervous with his intense stare, you nod at his cigarette. “Can I-uh, try?”

Eddie blinks. “Yeah, sure.”

He offers it to you with a balk stutter on his hand. You lean over, your hand almost on his thigh as you wrap your lips around, lipstick staining the orange filter that leaves a pink coruscating shine. Brazen do you inhale, cheeks sucked in, gray smoke filling your lungs until you cough abruptly and push it away.

Smoke puffs when you cough and he laughs jubilantly. “Mandy!”

“Fuck,” your hand grasps his shoulder, the other covering your mouth. “Christ. No wonder why my dad says I shouldn’t smoke. Oh- shit. Ah.”

He pats around beside him. “We left our water in the car,”  

“Screw it. I’ll try again,” you wrap your hand around his wrist and take the cigarette in your mouth, sucking like your life had depended on it until Eddie himself has to pull it away. It’s a bit calmer this time, no coughs and only smoke. 

His palm meets the side of his hand to a mock applause. “Bravo.”

“Who taught you this?”

Eddie takes a short puff. “My old man,”

Your smile falls. “Oh, shit, sorry,”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “My…mom got mad when she found out. I was eight,” he licks his lips. “And, you know, I told myself I wouldn’t do it again. But highschool happened and before I knew it, I have a metal lunchbox full of packs and weed,”

You feel his pink shyly tap yours. “My mom used to take me up here,” Eddie continues. “Way before Dustin did and- we used to go up before the sunrise so we could watch it. When he was dead asleep,” he swallows thickly. “She’d make these sandwiches, chocolate and peanut butter, and we’d eat them while we watched the sun rise; and she’d point out all these butterflies,” he shows you his wrist where the insect lays. “And she said ‘Eddie, you must always cherish the beginning of a new day,’”

He mimics the voice of his mother in a high-pitched voice and a tone that lilts to a posh border. Eddie knows it’s not exactly her voice, but he loves a good impression.

“She sounds like an amazing person,” you whisper.

“She was,” Eddie muses, a melancholy wave that crashes on him as he lays on the undertow, helpless. “She always had this bubble of hope, even if my dad always popped it. She just kept on blowing, and smiling, and loving even though she was struggling and honestly,” he looks at you with a sad smile, “she’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met,”

Your heart breaks the slightest. But he looks at you like the brightest star he's ever found.

“She always had a bubbly personality even when everything was tough,” he sighs. “And I haven’t done this. Watching the sunrise since she, y’know, because I always slept in,”

His chuckle makes you smile breathlessly. But it had been more wistful. There’s a mosaic of maudlin rings over your eyes, on the verge of shattering. “Is that why you took me up here?”

“Kind of,” he drops his head sideways. “There’s no sunrise, though. So I hope this will suffice,” 

“I’ll take anything you give me, Munson,” you smile softly. “It makes me happy, either way,”

Finally, your pinkies hook behind you. His finger is warm, bigger than yours but bears a whit of gracious familiarity. They hook, as thick as thieves; Eddie gifts you a smile so warm and loving that makes you lean close.

“Even if my van’s all run down and loud and on the verge of burning?” his eyebrow raises. “Or I stain your reputation?”

“I don’t even have a reputation,” you laugh. “But yes. Even if you van smells like marijuana and you, like, listen to Orgasmatron for god knows how many times. I’ll accept anything,” 

I’ll accept anything.

Eddie leans close, tobacco breaths exchanged, nose bumping with yours; his eyes are low and hooded, his eyelashes that tickle his cheeks when he blinks rapidly, fearing that once he opens his eyes you’re a mist within the gray smoke. And fuck, you’re pretty.

Prettier than the barely there stars above you, prettier than the morphing clouds that entice him at seven in the morning, prettier than Sweetheart (his beloved guitar, yes); prettier than everything else, you being the center of attention, the only attraction in his terrifying world. His heart pounds like he’s fallen down the rollercoaster, and it feels gratifyingly amazing.

Your pinky clutches his tightly in a silent promise. And he vows to keep it, whatever it may be.

“Just where our bones will rest,”

Befuddled, he pulls back slightly. “What?”

“I thought of a lyric,” although disappointed, Eddie finds it in himself to smile lightly. “My heart's on a string around my neck and I stare just where our bones will rest.” you say. “Shit, Eddie, do you have a ballpen?”

“Lucky for you, I do,” he reaches for his pocket again and pulls out a blue pen with the cap covered in small indentation of bites. You frown. “Sorry. I get nervous a lot.”

“It’s okay,” you unscrew the cap. “Um, fuck,”

You unlace your pinky from his, pulling your left forearm out so you’d write the lyric just above your inner elbow, small across the skin of your forearm. 

“I could get this tattooed,” you mutter. And then you look up at him with a proud, bright smile. 

“I could do it,” his shoulders raise to a shrug. “I mean, I mostly do my own tattoos,” Eddie shows you his arms—the butterfly on his wrist, the bats on his forearm, before he pulls on the collar of his shirt and shows you The Devil. “Either I use my machine or the stick and needle,”

“Didn’t know you knew how to do tattoos,” you narrow your eyes at him. “What’s next? You can fix cars,”

He almost says yes.

You reach to touch the tattoo on his forearm in awe, delicate finger grazing his inked skin, petting the hairs on his arm. “Seriously. I’ll do it, (y/n),” he chuckles. “Just gotta tell me when,”

With your eyes gilded in delirium, you nod. And he smiles.

Eddie Munson had only been in love once. 

But he had no idea he could fall in love twice. 

-

You could remember how delicate he’d been.

Eddie had taken you back to his home. The place dark and desolate with the missing presence of his beloved uncle. He’d sat you down on his couch, apologized for how messy the place had been and that you’re getting your first tattoo at some dingy trailer. And you remember how your words succored the insecurity out of him; how he visibly deflated in relief and knelt in front of you.

Although covered in latex, his hands were warm against your arm, but it was incomparable to the spark you felt when you looped your pinky around his. 

His words had saged the pain from the stabbing needles. Constant praises that made your stomach flip; ballyhoos that made your cheeks burn as your mind swallowed them in a way that you shouldn’t— “You’re doing a great job, babe” “Taking it so well, aren’t you, Mandy?” “I know it hurts, but it’ll feel good soon,” “Good girl.”

Good girl had been the last straw. 

Eddie was doing it on purpose, right? Or your mind was just too deep into the gutter?

He’d traced the words you wrote on your inner elbow in vigilant precision. Eddie was fruitless of failure, nothing amiss in the Stygian tattoo. Which left you in awe given that he’d used a stick and needle rather than the machine hidden somewhere beneath the depths of his dusted bed. 

When he was done, he lathered your arm with ointment before covering it with plastic—cling wrap. And he drove you home with smiles painting both the canvases of your faces; the inside of his van filled with nothing but twitching hands that yearn for reconciliation, and knowing looks exchanged between the music of The Police.

You had laid on your bed with the lingering feeling of his latex touch and his bona fide scrutiny that night. A silly smile on your face when you think of Eddie Munson; the boy who’d disappeared in your life who you miraculously found again.

special thanks to: @vendettaparker, @munsonquinns, @familyvideostevie, @applcrumbl for proofreading :3

PART TWO

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED 💕

#eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munsonx y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things smut #stranger things angst #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction

[harunovella]

who's your daddy? ; t.f.

synopsis: lone missions weren't new to you, having completed a dozen without losing a limb or your life... of course, that was due to a certain fushiguro man who couldn't seem to stay away when you were in the face of danger... and, of course, with every successful rescue came with a back breaking thank you

cw: fem!reader, aged up characters (18+), age gap (isn't really specified), very subtle mention of blood, bratty!reader (but we all know that's on purpose), mentions of handjobs/blowjobs (but nothing too descriptive, daddy kink, dilf!toji, exhibitionism, fingering, oral (m → f), spanking, slight name calling?, dom!toji/sub!reader, mating press, creampie, srry if i missed any! MDNI!

wc: 4.4k+

an: this is my first ever toji fic, i'm so hooked on eren it's hard to write any other man other than him (oops i just love my emo hobo rockstar), anyway i had sm fun writing this and plan to write more for him... esp now that he'll be animated??? also i wanna write for jjk men (potential gojo fic and... maybe choso fic... coming soon!) anyway enjoy everyone's fav dilf breaking your back! p.s. this fic was originally gonna be called big man with a gun based off of this song bc it literally is toji to a t but i'm saving it for another time bc this title fits better... p.s.s. i always confuse myself with the whole 1 grade/grade 1 so i went by what i hear sorry oops ok anyway enjoy!

Megumi never understood why Gojo had to send you on lone missions, even if you technically were perfectly fine to handle them on your own. However, Megumi always felt a sense of responsibility for you as he was the one who brought you to Jujutsu Tech. Much like Yuji, the way you met Megumi wasn't under normal circumstances... Instead, you were in the middle of protecting a pair of little boys from—what you eventually learned to be—a Grade 2 cursed spirit. You managed to handle it with sheer luck on your side (and what you also eventually learned to be your own cursed energy). Long story short, Gojo was very intrigued by you and was happy to take you under his wing, especially after you were labeled Grade 1.

Yes, you were a Grade 1. Yes, you could handle yourself. Yes, you've been on a handful of lone missions and you have come back safe. Still... it worried him, and he knew he couldn't do much about it. Especially when you did not like being coddled: something you constantly reminded Megumi of.

"What's gotcha panties in a bunch, Meg?" The sound of his father's voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he trudged through the living room of his home. Toji watched from the kitchen as his son pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gojo did somethin'?"

"When doesn't he?" Megumi sighed before bringing up your name. "He sent her on another lone mission." Bringing his hand into his hair, he continued, "it's in that abandoned subway station where they always hold raves. I wanted to go—"

"Doesn't she hate when you babysit her?" Toji interrupted, earning a glare from his son.

"I have a bad feeling about this mission, alright? Gojo didn't want to listen and both Yuji and Nobara said I was being over the top—"

"You are—"

"Shut up, old man," Megumi snapped as he shot his father a deadly look. "I am being serious. Gojo said it was a Grade 3, but it isn't sitting right with me."

Sighing as he served himself and downed a glass of water, Toji settled it in the sink before speaking up, "she'll be fine. She's a Grade 1."

"I don't care—"

"Look, kid, you do plenty of missions on your own and you're a lower grade than her. You sexist?" Toji tilted his head, earning an eye roll from Megumi. "Relax, she'll be fine." Walking past his son as he patted his shoulder, Toji made his way to his bedroom.

In all honesty, Toji trusted his sons instincts. Megumi was almost always right about his gut and if he believed you to be in trouble, then there was a chance you could be.

Toji eyed a photo on his bedside table. It was Megumi's birthday last year and you had Nobara help you set up a small gathering with your small team (Gojo included, to Toji's dismay) and Toji himself. Megumi was at the center with a flat face and a party hat, Yuji had an arm around his shoulders with a peace sign, Nobara and Gojo stood behind him with wide grins as you took Megumi's other side. Your grin matched that of everyone else's in the photo, except that of the two Fushiguro men. Behind you stood Toji with his arms crossed and a subtle smirk on his lips. Neither Fushiguro were photogenic, but Toji kept the photo solely because you were in it. To everyone else who saw it? He just liked having a photo of his kid and the people who made him happy.

Deep in thought as he remembered that day, how you were in that cute little skirt and turtle neck, those stockings and how none of it did you justice for the cold weather in Tokyo, Toji heard the sound of Megumi's door slamming shut. His reminiscing was cut short, knowing very well if he didn't do something, you were going to be nothing but a memory.

"Fuck, this kid is going to be the death of me," Toji huffed as he walked out of his bedroom. Peeking over at his son's door, the man then walked past and grabbed his keys from the coffee table before walking right out. It wasn't like Megumi ever questioned what his father did or where he was going, he was always leaving the house at odd hours of the night and returning whenever he pleased. Either way, his son didn't need to know. Especially not now.

Toji hated loud places, he found them rather obnoxious. The heavy beats pounding, vibrating against the floor beneath his feet. The smell of alcohol in the air, mixed with that of all the bodies grinding up against one another. The flashing lights. The obnoxious men flirting with tipsy women. If it wasn't a cursed spirit that was going to get you, it was going to be some drunken bastard.

Making his way through, using his height to his advantaged as he pushed through the crowd, Toji looked down at the abandoned track and turned his head towards the dark tunnel. He was sure you were down there, somewhere. "You better be in one piece," he huffed to himself before he hopped down onto the tracks, making his way over to the darkness.

"That wasn't so bad..." You breathed, sheathing your twin sai onto your thigh holsters before wiping your hands clean. For a Grade 3, the cursed spirit wasn't all that difficult. You wondered if the classification was right or maybe you were just having a good day. Either way, you weren't complaining. You completed your mission and you were ready to sink yourself into a bubble bath. Me time was a great reward for a successful mission! That's what you always told yourself.

Pulling out your phone from the pocket of your skirt, you unlocked it and scrolled through your contacts, tapping on Gojo Jojo. Placing the phone against your ear as your free hand settled on your hip, you patiently waited. "Yo!"

"Mission completed," you nodded, "curse has been exorcised and now the world can worry a little less about unwanted, negative energy."

"And Megumi was worried you couldn't complete your mission," Gojo let out a tsk on his end. "I knew you could do it! You are probably— student— had— from Okkotsu— know— tell—"

"Huh?" Furrowing your eyebrows as your phone was cutting in and out as static suddenly buzzed in your ear, you pulled your phone away to look at your screen before placing it back against your cheek, "hello? Gojo? You're breaking up, I can't hear what you're saying!"

"Hey— Hello?" Hearing his voice come in and out as he called your name, your eyebrows furrowed. Just as you were about to give up, your heart sank. Something in the air shifted and your body grew stiff. Goosebumps took over your body as you blinked. Lowering your hand as you turned in your spot, a subtle gasp left you.

It happened much more quicker than you perceived. One second, you were on your feet, ready to grab your weapons, the next, you were tossed across the way and slammed violently against one of the subway walls. A rough cough left you as the wind was knocked right out of you. Your body ached as you swore every bone within you snapped. Hearing clicking sounds in the distance, you lifted your blurred vision before pushing yourself off of the wall. A huff left you as you landed on your feet, clutching your side as you felt your own blood trickle down the side of your face. There before you, in its twisted and demonic ways, stood another cursed spirit.

And it clearly wasn't a Grade 3.

"I just wanted my bubble bath..." you mumbled to yourself, reaching for your twin sai, ready for a round two.

If someone asked you if you could stand against a Special Grade, you probably would have said "not alone, at least not for long." It wasn't like you had doubt in yourself... but Special Grade's were categorized as such for a reason. Most were handled by multiple sorcerers at once, unless you were that lucky 1% who could defeat one on your own (either without breaking a sweat or on the verge of bleeding to death). Either way, the former was near impossible.

At this rate, you definitely weren't in the lucky 1%.

The Special Grade was much more smarter than you had believed it to be. It was fast. It almost knew your moves before you even knew them, yourself. Instead of wearing it down, it was wearing you thin. You were littered in wounds, your uniform all torn up—your jacket now open, your blouse now with holes, your skirt looking mangled. Your stockings looked like they've been through better—and you didn't even want to get started with your hair. You've seen better days. But your appearance was the least of your concern when all you got was the arm of the Special Grade as it's about to take your life.

This was not how you wanted to go. Not like this. Definitely not in a place so revolting. How did Gojo—or anyone—not know about this anyway?! You were sure someone would've known and definitely wouldn't have sent you without a warning... or help!

With its various hands clinging onto you and lifting you in the air as you weakly struggled to escape, a sudden flash swooped past you as you fell to the ground. With a rough landing as you hissed, rubbing your back and trying to catch your breath, you looked up to see who or what it was that managed to get in between you and it.

Recognizing those godly movements that were much too fast for the human eye to easily catch, your racing heart only picked up its pace as your savior so violently—yet so calculatedly—attacked the Special Grade.

"You gonna keep sittin' there, kid? Or you gonna help?" Your savior—the one and only Toji Fushiguro—spoke as your eyes widened.

In its now weakened state, you watched as Toji managed to keep the Special Grade down before it could even retaliate. Reaching for your twin sai—that got tossed along the way—and embedding your cursed energy into it, you came in with the final and fatal blow.

Watching it disintegrate there before your eyes, you took in heavy breaths before turning to face the elder Fushiguro. "Why are you here?" You glared. "You always appear on my solo missions as if you're keeping tabs on me!"

"A thank you would suffice. You should be grateful," Toji clicked his tongue before he fed his weapon to the worm latched to him.

Rolling your eyes as you tightened your fists around your weapons, you shook your head, "stop treating me like some defenseless child every time I go on a lone mission! You're worse than Megumi! At least he doesn't just show up!" You huffed. "I am a Grade 1!"

A small laugh left Toji, almost condescendingly. "'m not even a curse user and I had to step in—" seeing you toss one of your twin sai his way, Toji swiftly caught it and easily fed it to the worm nuzzled against him, earning a gasp from you.

"H— Hey! Give it back!" You pointed with your now free hand, but just as you blinked, he appeared before you. With his hand clutching onto your chin, you glared at him, instinctively slapping him across the face.

A snicker left Toji as he shifted his jaw, his free hand moving up to rub his cheek at the subtle sting that almost felt like a child slapped him. "If you weren't my son's best friend I would've cut your fuckin' hands off, but then who'd give me those delightful handjobs?"

Gasping, you shoved him, hands pushing against his chest as you took a step back. As furious as you were, you couldn't deny the heat building up within you. The ache between your thighs each and every time the elder Fushiguro came to your rescue. It was ridiculous how often he went to save you but almost never for his own son when he was on his solo missions. "Why are you always interfering?" You asked as Toji stalked towards you, backing you into a wall.

"Why're you such a damn brat?" He countered. "Can't say thank you for shit, huh?" Tilting his head, he pressed his hands on either side of your head as he leaned in, his nose just barely touching yours.

"I don't need your help, old man," you seethed, looking him in the eyes. You hadn't realized it, but he had—your voice had grown softer. Your attacks, less aggressive. He was getting to you. He knew it. He always knew how to.

"This old man saves your life time and time again," Toji said, that infuriating smirk dressing his lips as your eyes flickered from the scar to the sudden fire in his eyes. He knew he had you, trapped with no way out. It always took one look and one touch—just one little gesture and you were instantly putty in his hands. Molding you in any shape or form he wanted.

"Why? I never asked you to," you frowned, eyebrows narrowing as you felt your chest rising and falling with each deep breath you took.

Rolling his yes, Toji sighed, "isn't it obvious?" Seeing you shake your head, Toji then leaned in to your left ear, lips grazing the skin as he whispered, "I'm not letting anything take away what's mine." With a gasp leaving your now parted lips, Toji's hands instantly latched onto your face, slamming his mouth against yours as an instant squeak left you.

Your heart skipped a beat as his tongue pried your lips apart, gliding and exploring the cavern of your mouth. He was hungry and desperate, it had been so long since he last tasted you. And, as always, these moments happened when you needed saving... just to reward your savior with your lips around his fat cock.

You could never forget the first encounter, when you were almost in the hands of death... how Toji swooped in and saved your life as if he were you knight in shining armor. Of course, he wasn't going to take a simple thank you. No way. Not when he had his eyes on you. He wanted a thank you gift in the shape of your pretty, little mouth, around his aching cock.

And, of course, you gave it to him. You did as told because you secretly were lusting over him, too. He fucked your throat and coated your face with his release as a sign of his gratitude. He swore he had never seen anything sexier than that. His pretty baby with her gentle face splattered in his seed. Probably why he got off so easily to the thought when he was alone, having taken a photo for personal use.

One of Toji's hands held the back of your neck, fingers entangling in your hair as he tugged on it, forcing your mouth to open more. A breathy moan left you as Toji sucked on your tongue before pulling you back into the kiss. His mouth slotted against yours, saliva spreading, lips moving sloppily. He parted for a moments worth, allowing you to catch your breath as a string of spit connected the two of you.

"You wanna be a good girl and give daddy what he wants?" Toji breathed as you let out a desperate moan, a subtle nod as you couldn't move your head much with the grip he had on your hair. "Yeah? Gonna let daddy fuck you dumb for being a little bratty, ungrateful, bitch?"

"Y— Yes!" You breathed out, tearing up from the sting of his grip on your hair. "Wh— What ever you wan'!"

Laughing, Toji's hand's moved to your jacket and blouse, using his sheer strength to rip them off your body, exposing your bra cladded chest. Lowering his lips to your neck, he left a trail of sloppy, open mouth kisses to your tits. In his wake, red marks were left behind as his teeth sank into your skin, biting deeply and earning squeals from you. Your hands pressed against his chest, trying to push away when he bit too roughly, but Toji shoved your hands away. Gripping onto your wrists with one hand and pinning them above your head, his free hand slid up your skirt and dipped beneath your stockings and panties.

Toji didn't know what patient meant, always too eager to get what he wanted, so the moment he felt your slick cunt, he was quick to tease your hole. "So fuckin' wet f' me already..." he grunted as you whimpered, wiggling your hips, wanting to feel his thick fingers in you.

"Please..." you begged, eyes squeezing shut as you took in deep breaths. "Toji—"

"Now you wanna behave? Wanna act like you weren't bein' a bitch a few moments ago? All because my fingers are teasing your tight pussy?" He said, forehead now pressed against yours as he slid his fingers along your folds, coating them with your juices. "Tell me..." he grinned, forefinger and middle pushing into you, "who's your daddy?"

And just like that, your mind went blank, body falling limp. His fingers fucked into you at an unforgiving pace, thumb pressing and circling your sensitive nub along the way of you chasing your orgasm. He panted with you, nearly getting off to the sound of your wet pussy and the desperate mewls that left your parted lips. With his knuckles deep in you as he curled his fingers and pressed into that spot that had your eyes nearly rolling back, Toji suddenly pulled away.

"N— No!" You cried out.

"Oh, baby girl, don't worry," he huffed, letting go of your wrists before kneeling and yanking down your tights and panties. He was aggressive and fast, tossing your shoes to a side and completely removing the two layers that separated him from your sopping pussy. "You can come all over my tongue."

A gasp left you as Toji lifted your legs over his shoulders, keeping you balanced and pressed against the wall as his hands pressed against your ass cheeks. Your bare pussy was now exposed before him, your chest heaving as your hands instantly flew into his hair. Toji's tongue pressed against your cunt, lapping up your essence as he licked a stripe from your entrance, to your nub. Repeating the process over and over as your heart raced faster and faster.

Your head fell back as his tongue fucked into you, moving between your hole and aching clit, causing your thighs to shake. You tried pressing them together, but Toji's hands were quick enough to keep them apart. His laughter was felt against your pussy, enjoying the way you came undone for him not too long after berating him for saving your damn life.

"T— Toji! Toji! Toji, please—" you begged and panted, fingers tugging and pulling on his hair as he practically made out with your pussy. The sounds that emitted from him made it seem like he were a starved man who hadn't eaten in days. The way his eyes were hooded, watching how you could hardly keep your own open. If it weren't for you being so focused on the feeling of his mouth on your cunt, you would've noticed the way he was practically humping the air.

Biting down as you gave his hair a particularly harsh tug, your toes curled as you came all over his tongue. Your eyebrows furrowed upward with the ecstasy that filled your veins, head falling as you tried catching your breath. If you didn't know Toji any better, you would've believed it was a one and done... but this man wasn't like any other. He didn't know when to stop. He only knew how to keep going until you practically passed out and he felt satisfied.

Lowering you from his shoulders and turning you around, Toji pressed your face against the wall as he pulled your hips towards him. Undoing his pants before pulling his aching, leaking length out, Toji's hands grabbed your ass cheeks before giving them a harsh spank. Watching your ass jiggle as he did it again and again with a sinister laugh, you looked over and felt your heart race faster than it already was. You nearly forgot how big he was, remembering your fast time with him leaving you practically bone and brainless afterwards. A sensation only he gave you. A sensation you missed...

Pulling your cheeks apart as you stayed with your back arched for him, Toji pushed his cock into you, groaning and hissing at your tightness. Incoherent words left you as you tried adjusting to his size, only to gasp as he pulled back where just the tip was in, only to slam back into you. Toji didn't know what being gentle was like, thrusting into you as if he planned to break you in hard... and, in all reality, you wanted him to. As much as he annoyed you when he constantly came to your rescue (which wasn't true, you really owed him your life), you enjoyed these moments the most. And, sometimes, you behaved the way you did so he would fuck you ruthlessly. After all, you knew how to push his buttons.

"Fuck— Fuck— Fuck—" you panted as the sound of skin slapping and Toji's heavy breathing echoed in your ears. His was fucking you at a deadly pace, so fast and rough you were sure you were starting to see stars. So deep that you were sure he was going to burst right through you. "Toji— Toji— Toji—" Feeling tears slip down your cheeks as you nearly drooled, lips parted with heavy moans and desperate cries of pleasure, Toji threw his head back as he let out a hefty laugh.

"Always... so fucking... tight! Fuck— I missed this... pussy!" Panting as he roughly pressed his fingers into your hips, slamming himself into you as your cunt sucked him in, you desperately moaned. "Sounding like a fuckin' whore... bet no one fucks you this good, huh?" Slamming his dick into you with a hiss, Toji took in sharp breaths, fingertips digging deeper into your hips, leaving red marks behind. "Bet you.. don't even.. let anyone else.. fuck this... fuck— tight—"

Shaking your head as you felt yourself climaxing, you cried out, "T— Toji—! I—"

"Not yet, baby," he grunted, leaning over you and whispering in your ear, "that was one helluva special grade you had me save you from. You think... I'll let you off... that easily?"

"P— Please... Toji..." you begged, hips aching from his grip as your knees nearly gave out. You tried reaching back, but Toji suddenly pulled out and pushed you down. You let out a whine at the lack of him, but Toji was quick to get on his knees, grabbing the back of your own before pushing them into you. Leaning in and spitting on your fluttering hole, Toji filled you again with a lengthy moan, balls deep in you as you clung onto his shoulders. Digging your nails into his skin, Toji pulled his hips back and rammed into you, picking up his previous pace and making a mess out of you.

The way your tears spilled, how you were weeping and looking like a fucked out mess had his stomach clenching. Your palms slammed against his shoulders as he fucked you throughly, balls slapping your ass as his hair began to stick to his forehead. Leaning in and slamming his lips against yours, practically breathing into your mouth with open kisses, Toji then sucked your bottom lip before kissing your chin and cheek. Licking up your tears as you whimpered and whined beneath him, Toji pulled out again and flipped you on your stomach.

"Toji— I can't— I can't take it—"

"Oh, I know you can," he nodded as he lifted your hips, filling you up once against before spanking your right ass cheek once, twice... multiple times until there was a print of his hand left behind. In seconds you were creaming around his cock. Your drool pooled beneath you as your face was pressed into the filthy ground below. Toji kept your hands pulled back behind you before he lifted you up.

Wrapping a hand around your neck as his other slid between your thighs and gave your clit a pinch, you yelped. He rubbed at it, fast circles, anticipating your third orgasm. It didn't take long for him to get what he wanted, after all, this was your punishment for being an ungrateful brat. Fucking into you deeply, Toji soon found himself filling you to the brim. You felt like pure jelly, truly being fucked dumb as you couldn't think straight.

Feeling him pull out as you whimpered, your body nearly fell forward before Toji caught you. Falling onto the balls of his feet as he turned you enough to face him, Toji held your chin before leaning in to kiss you, tongue slipping past your lips lazily. Kissing you deeply and slowly, Toji nibbled on your jaw as he pulled away before whispering in your ear, "say thank you to your daddy."

Taking in deep, shallow breaths as your eyes could barely stay open, you mumbled, "thank you... daddy..."

Grinning, he licked your neck before biting your earlobe, "now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"What's up with all the bruises on your neck?" Yuji asked as you sat before him, besides Nobara and across Megumi.

An instant blush crept on your cheeks as you lifted the collar of your jacket, trying to hide what was already seen. Now gathered together for your morning meet up, Gojo tilted his head as he eyed you. "Are those hickeys?"

"No way," Nobara gasped as she leaned in with squinted eyes, causing you to lean away. "Did Mr. Fushiguro save the day again?"

"Again?" Megumi asked before stiffening in his seat. Looking at you with wide eyes as you mirrored his expression, the younger Fushiguro then exclaimed, "that fucking old man!"

an: okay popping in to say that ending was sm fun, idk if I'll be willing to write a part two or to just let your minds wander... also i will make a masterlist eventually as this is my third one shot xo

#haruno writes; #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #fushiguro toji #zenin toji #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji smut #jjk toji #toji one shot #daddy toji #dilf toji

[hughesd4le]

21 (insta edit) | jack hughes x pop star singer! reader

summary: you & jack have been dating for a while neither of your guys fan base had a clue that the two of you we’re together or that one of the songs you wrote was about him.

note: this literally came out like ass but i still wanted to post it. hope you guys enjoy

y/nofficial

liked by trevorzegras, lhughes_06, _quinnhughes and others

y/nofficial i just wanna say a huge thank you to everybody that came to see me perform. i am very thankful for all of you.

load more comments.

trevorzegras you were amazing my favorite litte rat. we’re so proud of you, can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you.

y/nofficial love you too satan. so glad that you guys got to come out and see me.

fan1 they know eachother???

lhughes_06 it’s so obvious the last song was about him.

y/nofficial no shit sherlock, this is why quinn is my fav hughes.

_quinnhughes i’ve been promoted to favorite hughes now?

fan1 she knows the hughes??? and who is the song about????

fan2 the song is probably about trevor

y/nofficial it’s definitely not about trevor. he’s literally like a brother to me.

fan3 who is she dating?

jackhugeswife better not be jack. she’s literally a whore.

fan1 she’s not a whore.

jackhugheswife she’s friends with his brothers and trevor i bet she hooked up with the three of them

fan2 her and trevor have been childhood best friends? and second of you don’t even know her so she’s not a whore💀

jackhughes

liked by y/nofficial, trevorzegras, lhughes_06 and 134,053 others

jackhughes had an amazing break with my amazing friends and family.

_quinnhuges you’re so whipped on her but congrats on finally pulling her after being a scaredy-cat to ask her out.

jackhughes quinn what the fuck why are you calling me out.

jacksnico damn quinn really did jack dirty

trevorzegras who’s that girl all over my boyfriend. how dare she steal you away from me🙄

lhughes_06 cry about it zegras. she’s way better than you

jackhughes trev it’s not like that i swaer she’s a side chick

y/nofficial damn i gotta go tell her.

fan1 that’s y/n it has to be

jacknico omg you’re right it might be they have similar hair and facial features 

fan2 omg you’re so right

y/nofficial

liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras, _quinnhughes and 96, 502 others

y/nofficial you’d be the love of my life

jackhughes i love you, my angel

y/nofficial i love you most pretty boy

fan1 I KNEW IT.

trevorzegras boyfriend stealer🙄 kidding. congrats on coming out to the crazy jack stan’s

jamiedrysdale why didn’t you tell me she was dating jack. i feel betrayed

y/nofficial i’m so sorry jams please forgive me

jamiedrysdale i’ll forgive you. only because you said you would still wear my jersey.

lhughes_06 i think i should get credit for the first picture🙄

y/nofficial all credits goes to little hughes for the pictures 🙄

nicohischier so you’re the girl he’s been talking about the past few days

dawson1417 nico this was supposed to stay between us and jack

jackhughes what the fuck nico i thought you were better then this💔

nicohischier you have been annoying me the last few days during practice. you deserved to be called out.

y/nofficial awh he talks about me. i knew he was down bad but didn’t know he was down bad like that down bad.

#jack hughes #luke hughes #new jersey devils #nico hischier #dawson mercer #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale #anaheim ducks #hughesd4le

[project-sekai-facts]

What's ur fav piece of trivia for every* character?

(*or at least as much as you can recall off the top of ur head)

my favorite trivia for characters is usually just whatever i think is funniest so just keep that in mind. that's not always the case but you might see it become a pattern. oh the other thing is whatever is most soul-crushing so yeah.

Ichika - either the fact her name comes from how her parents met (because i think it's really sweet) or that she accidentally discovered miku when she was watching videos on her dad's tablet and opened a recording of a miku concert

Saki - she used to listen to the song Time Machine when she was in hospital (at Ichika's recommendation) to remind her of family and friends. It's the in-universe reason why she is featured on the cover. This is actually one of my favorite facts in the game overall.

Honami - she is surprisingly good at flirting

Shiho - not one I've posted before, but in Run! Sports Festival! she couldn't bring herself to throw any of the balls in the ball toss because they had cute animal designs on them

Minori - she once passed out because Haruka wished her happy birthday.

Haruka - she likes penguins because she thinks the way they waddle is cute and she likes how round a lot of penguin merch is

Airi - she followed all of Shizuku's campaigns and bought all the magazines she was featured in when she was still a member of Cheerful*Days. She insists it was just research.

Shizuku - either that she usually has a thermos of miso soup on her to eat after practice or archery club or that she isn't good at texting. i haven't posted either of these before

Kohane - again one I haven't posted yet, but her favorite photo she's taken of Count Pearl is one of Pearl eating mice. the rest of VBS are surprised that she isn't squeamish about that sort of thing (i dunno what they're talking about that sounds like a very cool photo).

An - the possible symbolism of the black stripe on her new school cardigan. hello to the person who submitted that i am still not over it.

Akito - in Cinema he's the only person to sing solo during the first two choruses, the others don't get solo parts in the chorus until the end of the song. i think about this one a lot actually

Toya - he can't swim

Tsukasa - he's the comedic relief and there's a lot of really random shit i know about him because of that, so my favorite fact about him is whatever will have the most impact in the moment if i were to mention it out of nowhere. for a less vague answer, this one although i consider it to be one of my worst posts

Emu - she's very good at replicating cartoon faces. i like this one because it raises a few questions about whether the L2Ds are still exaggerated or if she just looks like that and no one questions that she actually has a cartoon face. what if project sekai ends with them all becoming self-aware.

Nene - either the fact that she thinks the forest has good graphics or that she called rui's mom "auntie" when she was younger because i think it's cute.

Rui - i like a good reference and i appreciate that he sometimes references famous people and media.

Kanade - she's left handed. i also like that her family name was made up specifically to contrast with the rest of N25.

Mafuyu - either that it's shown one time that she can see ghosts and then it's never brought up or referenced again, or that the "mom's cooking" listed as her favorite food might refer to the bunny-shaped apple slices her mother would make for her when she was a kid. i also like the detail that her eyes being two-tone is because she inherited the eye colors of both her parents.

Ena - twitter user. also despite loving cheesecake, she doesn't like cheese. girl what the hell.

Mizuki - they started out editing by making AMVs for a magical girl anime they liked. Amia comes from the name of a character from that anime. also did you know they put ice cubes in noodles because of their sensitive tongue. ice cubes.

Bonus - some side character stuff I like

Kotaro's favorite food is strawberries but he doesn't like strawberry flavored things for whatever reason

Asahi and Sakurako's family names are Chinese mythology references

Tatsuya's hobbies are motorbiking and fishing. these are not things you expect to go together

Nagi hated tomatoes but she would eat them in front of An

Iori hates spicy food, whilst Mio's favorite food is super spicy ramen. Meanwhile Mio doesn't like cream, but Iori likes crepes (which usually have cream on them).

Souma started listening to foreign music after Arata left for America

gbr i forgot about the vocaloids for a second but before i call it a day i think it's incredibly funny that Len cannot reach the stools in crase cafe.

#asks #mod talks

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Do you have any fics you recommend off the top of your head? Sorry if you’ve answered this already

Hi! I have not answered this already, and I've ended up NOT answering this off the top of my head lol. I'm assuming you mean Avatar fics (although I am happy to give recs for any other type of fic I read, or just best ones I've read if that's what you meant?). I've made this stupidly extensive and long list sorted into categories of Spider fics (with some bonus Avatar fics unrelated to Spider that did rock). Here it is you are welcome.

A NOTE: These are fics I have bookmarked and I enjoyed enough to recommend. I have read a ton more obviously, and I can give more specific ones, but they might not be of the same quality :)))) Also I don't read anything Quaritch/Recom sympathetic so you won't find that here. And don't worry I will continue my what Spider fic am I thinking of series, because I am not giving any actual reviews here lol. It will be marked if it contains mature content, and linked if I have done a review/rec for it.

Spider Sully!!!: (my a03 collection for spider sully fics if you want to keep up with what I add to it)

-Foreign Body by TreeTrope @hes-a-tough-kid

-oel ngati kameie series by @mochalottie (bestie friend of the blog)

-Nísoaia by flaming_keys @dinas-bracelet (another iconic friend of the blog, mature content) review

-Found Family series by siren_songs

-Spider Sully series by @alexihollis

-No One Worried 'Cause They Knew Just Where I'd Be and This Home is Home (and All That I Need) by SmokeyBubble (I skimmed the other parts of this series, they were not for me but these parts are Very good)

-Kelku (Raising Spider AU) series by iammadeofmemories review

-Keeping up with the Sullys series by @platinumink

-In Another Life by transient_wavelet (I think this one is about to get slightly recom sympathetic tho so we will see if it turns me off enough I remove the bookmark, but I liked the first section!)

-Need to Come Down for Oxygen by dieformedove review

-Left Behind by Lookeri

-Half Alive by @eirianerisdar

-Family is Who You Fight For by virtualpapercuts

-Pinned down by Marnky (this is eating disorder focused which made me hesitant to rec it as that is not my fav, but I bookmarked it! so it's in here!)

-eywa provides by @mochalottie (we just rec every and all lottie fics)

-The boy in the cell by Lookeri review

-baby mine by @mochalottie

-Nature or Nurture by ENC95 review

-The Spider Chronicles series by @meenawrites (yet another icon bestie friend of the blog)

-A Spider's Life by ENC95

-I promise, I tried by Alia_JuneBug

-Reciprocity by moonewriting

-The Heat of the Moment by @hempbug

-Recovery by Ivoryseia

-for the nights and days of life by @mochalottie

Locorro Shit:

-Restless Child series by ScovilleMilk @spicymiilk (I beta this one it's so good!!)

-Mine and His series by sweetmars03 review

-Bitter by Icandigelvis @oppa86oppa (this is THE locorro fic it began a revolution)

-Could This be Love by HufflepuffWolf_1991 review

-Recessive by JadedFalling @theoriginaljordge (aNOTHER friend of the blog)

Tonowari and Ronal Adopting Spider:

-I'm Still Here by @alexihollis review

-From Sky to Sea by @eirianerisdar

-our hearts beat in the womb of the world by @mochalottie review

Spider Introspectives:

-Human or More by virtualpapercuts

Rocorro Shit:

-quiet mornings by AstersandInk @asfateentertwines

Anyone Else Adopting Spider:

-You'll Be in My Heart by AnodyneTheAnimal @stupidlytiredstudent (our man Norm) review

-More Than My Body by @alexihollis (our man Tsu'tey)

-The Song of Healing by by dreamsoflovingness (our man Tommy)

Spiriiiiiii:

-Please be kind, please be gentle with me by cuipid @milesocorro (a lil mature content) review

-You Gave Me All You Had (And Now I Am Home) by Bellarkyy

Nocorro Shit:

-Like Seaglass in an Ocean (Like how a Single Word Can Make a Heart Open) by CherryApollo

Take a Bite of the Orange by CherryApollo (i see u bestie)

Fun Fic, Side Spider:

-A Son for a Son by @icequeenlila (dude Spider is lowkey a badass in the back of this and I'm very invested in the tragedy of it all)

-Soundtrack (Human AU) by subster (he did just get a MAJOR chapter all on his own tho)

-Sully's Stick Together- All Of Them by Jay42Leatherback666 review

-Head to Head (Heart to Heart) by TheGodWith5Yen review

(Here is my collection for all other Spider fics I enjoy if you want to keep up with what I add to that)

No Spider but a Banger:

-Happiness is Simple series by I_Would_Prefer_Not_To (Jeytiri, mature content)

-It started with a whisper (and that was when I kissed him) by soymilktea (aonunete, listen the lack of spider in this fic is criminal but I live and breathe dumb social media aus I have a collection just for them)

-My Beloved by Zinstrae (jeytiri, mature content)

-My brother's keeper (Tom Sully lives! AU) series by take your peace now (makeyourpeacenow) @makeyourpeacenow

-Two Halves (of the same soul) by femme_forte (jeytiri, I looove a daemon au)

#if you saw this ask get posted half finished no u didn't #if i mentioned ur fic and u want to be tagged lmk #i promise u i've read every spider fic to ever exist #that doesn't have quaritch as good lol #also if i see u use any of my dumbass ship names i've single handedly forged then know i've seen and i know #spider socorro #miles spider socorro #jake sully #neytiri sully #jeytiri #neteyam sully #nocorro #lo'ak sully #locorro #kiri sully #spiri #tuktirey sully #tonowari #ronal #ao'nung #tsireya #tommy sully #tsu'tey #fic recs #melissa on avatar (cameron) #melissa's asks

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven Lavey Shelby

Heaven Lavey Shelby - is the protagonist/reader of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes, but also my Peaky Blinders OC. All info and background can be found in the said series but if you can't/don't want to read it, here are some basic facts below.

She's 25 at the beginning of the series • Arthur's wife • Natural white hair • Blood witch (similar to the concept of Heartrenders) • French • Cold unhinged bitch

🌙 Playlist

🌙 Theme Song: Bang Bang Bang by Sohodolls

𝒮𝐸𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒮

♢ Heaven in Your Eyes

𝒪𝒩𝐸-𝒮𝐻𝒪𝒯𝒮

♢ From Blood We Will Grow

♢ To Bark and Bite

♢ Kaiser Meeting Cyril (requested)

♢ A Bone to Pick With It (requested)

♢ Perfect Lines

♢ Love Ritual

♢ A Slice of Us (Modern!Arthur Shelby x Heaven)

♢ The Woods Whisper 1 (cannibal!AU) || The Woods Whisper 2

♢ Savage Daughter

𝒜𝒮𝒦𝒮

♢ Heaven Shelby Headcanons

♢ What if Arthur didn't exist? Who would be her man?

♢ Height difference with Arthur

♢ What does she think of Arthur's boxing hobby?

♢ How much Heaven has changed from her 1st version?

♢ What bedtime story would she tell to John's kids?

♢ Has she seen the ocean?

♢ Do the Changrettas know about Heaven?

♢ Red talks: Heaven vs Linda

♢ Red talks: Heaven vs Linda 2

♢ May x Heaven AU

♢ The best quotes for your characters

♢ Overthinker or not?

♢ How would a love story Eva x Heaven be?

♢ Would Heaven falls for modern!Arthur from Loose Cannon?

♢ Virtuous Ray of Sunshine x Ex Bad Guy

♢ Takes on hearing Arthur speak Romani

♢ What's Heaven's fav memory of Arthur? And his?

♢ Cute Aggressions towards Arthur

♢ Caption This!

♢ Tommy Shelby x Heaven Poll

♢ John Shelby x Heaven Discussion

♢ Heaven’s past Affairs

♢ How did Amos and Heaven meet

♢ What would Heaven eat at a carnival?

♢ What did Amos and Heaven's relationship look like?

𝐼𝐿𝐿𝒰𝒮𝒯𝑅𝒜𝒯𝐼𝒪𝒩𝒮 / 𝑀𝒪𝒪𝒟𝐵𝒪𝒜𝑅𝒟𝒮

♢ Heaven in Your Eyes 2nd moodboard

♢ " Not so much an Angel"Ch.6

♢ "You should be scared of me" Ch.12

♢ Trick or Treat

♢ Heaven in Your Eyes illustrations (by @zablife)

♢ Heaven x Arthur illustration (by @raincoffeeandfandoms)

♢ Heaven x Arthur moodboard (by @runnning-outof-time)

♢ Heaven Shelby moodboard (by @dearshelby )

♢ In Love with An Angel (by @there-goes-thefighter )

♢ Eleanor Shelby & Heaven Shelby (by @dearshelby )

♢ Chiaroscuro, Eva Smith x Heaven Shelby (by @evita-shelby )

♢ Fairy!Heaven Moodboard (by @raincoffeeandfandoms )

♢ Wonderland (by the @evita-shelby)

♢ Partner In Crimes (by @raincoffeeandfandoms)

♢ Party and Trouble (by @peakyswritings)

♢ Shakeaspeare's Play (Kaiser and friends by @evita-shelby)

♢ Bird of a Feather (Tommy x Heaven x Jack x Eva by @evita-shelby)

♢ Bayou Christmas (Mel and Heaven by @cljordan-imperium)

♢ Heaven In Your Eyes ( by @v3n1c3b1tch3 )

♢ Christmas Morning with Arthur and Heaven (by @peakyswritings)

♢ Heaven’s face Imagined (by @heavencanbeaprisontoo)

♢ 18th December with Heaven and Arthur

♢ Heaven As... (Aesthetic tag game)

𝑀𝐸𝒩𝒯𝐼𝒪𝒩𝒮

This part is dedicated to the works of my wonderful mutuals, who mentioned/used the character of Heaven in their stories. No word is strong enough to tell you how grateful I am for your incredibly kind gifts/surprises/cameo. I am utterly lucky to have you by my side, know that I sincerely love you. Thank you again, darlings.

Trailer video:

♢ Pierced By Cupid (video by @brummiereader)

Featured in...:

♢ Killing Me Softly pt. 5 (Cameo by @brummiereader)

♢ Killing Me Softly pt.9

♢ Garden of Eden (Eva Shelby x Heaven Shelby by @evita-shelby)

♢ Garden of Eden pt.3

♢ Girls Night and Broken Glass (for @raincoffeeandfandoms birthday)

♢ Womenland (by @raincoffeeandfandoms about the Eva x Heaven AU)

♢ Garden and Pruning Shears (by @zablife)

♢ Stolen Angel, a John Shelby x Heaven blurb (by @zablife)

♢ Pasts and Future (by @dearshelby)

♢ Snow on The Beach (by @pacifymebby)

♢ Visiting The Bayou (by @cljordan-imperium)

♢ In The Graveyard With Lilith Rose Shelby ( cameo by @chaosinkest1996)

♢ Text Memes (by @rysko )

#Masterlist maintenance #Heaven Shelby #Arthur Shelby #Arthur Shelby x OC #Arthur Shelby x reader #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders OC #Heaven Lavey Shelby

[delusionalmultifandomwriter]

Crashing Baby Birds (fluff)

Requested?: No

Oneshot: Damian crashes on Jason's couch after a long night.

words: 1263

Damian Wayne & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd

Here i am again, writing about my fav duo. They don't get nearly enough attention! Also Steph is joining, no idea how that happened. Its an experiment, im still improving my writing about her.

Jason woke up in the morning to the sun shining into his face and his alarmclock playing an awful pop song. He blindly hit his nightstand until he eventually hit the snooze button. Jason slowly sat up groaning while he rubbed his face to wake himself up. He slowly got up and grabbed a grey t-shirt from the floor. His bedroom wasn't exactly a mess but maybe he should do his laundry sometime soon.

Jason stretched as he got up and decided to do breakfast and shower first and postpone the laundry until later. Or never. He left his bedroom and froze. Something was wrong. The window was... only half closed. Jason always made sure to lock his windows and doors... Someone had bridged his security system.

He slowly made his way into the living area, guarded up and ready to fight the intruder. Nothing seemed to be missing, there were some dirt footprint stains on the carpet floor. Jason made his way over to the window and locked it again.

He flinched as he heard a quiet noise behind him, he turned around, ready to attack. When he spotted a small boy with jetblack hair and tan skin sitting up groggily on his worn-down couch.

"Damian?" Jason exclaimed confused. "De fuck are you doin' here?" Damian blinked hazily and rubbed his eyes, the domino masked layed forgotten next to the couch table. Finally, he looked up at Jason. "Todd? What are you doing here?" He asked, he obviously missed what the other boy said before.

Jason smirked and headed over to sit down on the couch next to Damian. "Well, I live here." Jason joked. Damian looked at him confused before he registered where he was. "Oh. Appareantly." Damian grumbled. "I should leave." Damian got up but winced and sat down on the floor.

"Hey now. You can stay." Jason said quickly, raising his hands apologizingly. "What happened to you?" "Nothing." Damian answered through gritted teeth and started a new try to get up. "Nothing, huh? Nothing looks pretty painful to me." Jason answered while he rolled his eyes at the stubborness of the boy.

"What hurts?" He asked while he got up and kneeled down on Damian's level. "Nothing." Damian growled. Jason sighed while he scanned down Damian's body. He looked tired and a little pale. "Listen kid, its either me or i go and call Bruce." He threatened half-serious. "Something is telling me that you dont want the old man right now." Jason smirked at Damian.

Damian crossed his arms and looked away from him. "Leg." He grumbled quietly. Jason chuckled. "Thought so. Stay, i get the med kit." He got up and grabbed the green box from the bathroom and swiftly returned before Damian could run off.

When he returned, he saw that Damian had already ripped open the fabric around the wound. Jason knelt down next to him. "Stab?" He asked curiously. "I got distracted." Damian argued angrily. Jason raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "The great Damian Wayne. Getting distracted? Well, now you got me curious. B already letting you patrol alone?" He asked while he started to clean up the bloody wound.

"He thinks im with the Titans." Damian grumbled. "But you aren't?" Jason answered. "No shit, Todd, stop trying to make conversation with me." Damian snapped. "I was with them but Starfire was starting a fight over team effort and respectful conversation again so i left!"

All Jason did was chuckle. Damian glanced at him offended. "What?!" he scowled. "Was it really Starfire who started that fight?" Jason smirked. Damian growled unamused. "Maybe I got a little firey." He grumbled quietly.

Jason sighed but decided to drop the topic. They both stayed silent while Jason was fixing Damian's leg. Once he finished he helped Damian up. "So, what happened with B?" Jason asked. "He banned me from patrol because i stabbed the Penguin." Damian grumbled. Jason burst out laughing.

"Bad day, huh?" He asked while he gently nudged Damian back on the couch. Damian huffed and sat back down. Jason ruffled his hair and Damian groaned and layed down to escape the affection. "I can go now." He grumbled.

"No you can't. You can stay or i call one of the others to come pick you up. You won't go outside in your Robin costume and injuried in the living daylight." Jason stated. Damian groaned into one of the pillows. "What's your pick?" Jason asked pushy.

Damian hesitated for a few moments. "I'll stay." He finally mumbled into the pillow. Jason smiled down at his little brother. "Excellent decision. I'll go find some clothes for you to wear." Damian lifted his head up to look at Jason.

"You are build like a fridge, Todd, i highly doubted anything from you would remotely fit my size." He argued. Jason smirked at him playfully. "Maybe one day when you finally grow a little, Shorty. For now i can offer you some stuff that Tim left here." Damian huffed and buried his face back into the pillow exhausted.

Stephanie Brown pulled up the car in front of an apartment complex in Gotham Midtown. The sun was already nearly set and the buildings shined in the last streams of sunlight. Weird enough that she had to pick up Damian somewhere but what was even weirder was, that she had to pick him up at Jason's place. She texted Jason who opened the door for her. The house was a little worn down, the area was not too criminal but still no place for a kid to run around. Well, at least Damian was not a regular kid.

Stephanie made her way up the stairs, Jason was leaning against the doorframe of his apartment and smiled at her. "At this point i could host a family meeting here, ya know." He joked. Stephanie chuckled. "You called me, i came."

Jason smirked. "Quiet right, thanks for picking up the demon spawn." He led Stephanie into his living area. She smiled softly, as she spotted Damian sleeping on the couch tucked under one of Jason's blankets. His face was completly relaxed and he breathed softly through his slightly parted lips. "Aww." She simply said before she cleared her throat and turned back to Jason.

"Right, anyhow. How did he end up here?" She asked while gesturing towards Damian. "Well, appareantly he had a fight with everyone and crashed here after he got stabbed." Jason shrugged with his hands shoved into the pockets of his cargo pants.

Stephanie looked at him puzzled but nodded slowly. "Mhh, Bruce mentioned something like that." She brushed back her hair before she glanced back at Damian. "You would never think he could stab someone when he is cuddled up there all peaceful and fluffy." She said after a few minutes of silence and just watching Damian rest.

Jason chuckled. "Fluffy?" He asked smirking. Steph nodded. "Come on, he looks fluffy. Look at that hair." She argued playful. Jason wheezed laughing. "Right. Fluffy."

"Shall we wake him?" Jason asked after he calmed down again. Stephanie hesitated. "How tired was he?" She asked thoughtful. "Very. Im pretty sure he would sleep through the night if we'd let him." Jason answered.

"We could let him sleep and go on patrol to kick some butt. I've been dying to go on patrol, Batman made me stay inside researching intel last night." She groaned.

Jason laughed lightly and nudged her playfully. "Let's go, i doubt Demon Spawn would run off. Even if, he is injuried. We could probably catch him."

Steph laughed. "Duh."

#batman #batfamily #jason todd #batfam #my writing #red hood #damian wayne #dc robin #stephanie brown #spoiler dc #fluff #oneshot #ooc #sleepy damian wayne

[halfmoth-halfman]

we're starting to get into the spooky months now, so what better way to close out the summer vibes than with a fic rec list!!

unfortunately, the original of this post got messed up through my queue and it left me discouraged and not really with the energy to go all out like i usually do so i apologize if the reviews are a little lackluster this time around, but i did love and adore every single one of these fics 💜

if you wanna see more more of my fic recs and favs, i have em all on my recs blog, here!! please note the navi page is still under construction!!

and of course, if you have any fic recs of your own, feel free to send em my way here or on my sideblog - i love finding new fics and writers!! 💜

Javier Peña

birthday bash || a pile of cards - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ what else can i say? cute. adorable. perfect. made me feel like it was my birthday, because this was fic was such a gift. i don't know how jo is able to write the cutest and most fun relationship dynamics, but it makes my heart soar every time.

late night texts || iv. before the gold and glimmer | bonus scene: phone sex | v. you make me feel wild | vi. the place where i want to be | bonus scene: wicked games you play | vii. oh the sweetest thing - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ i will never not be in love with the way jo writes javi, and the absolute beauty of her writing. the way this relationship builds and feels so real with equals parts teasing and the shyness of the first time meeting someone you kinda sorta know always leaves me stunned.

John "Soap" MacTavish

run away to me || i. - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i'm warning y'all now, hal has spoiled me this month and a lot of the fics on this list are gonna be hers. but to start we're talking about this fantastic fic. blacksmith!soap was not something i knew i needed and i am foaming at the mouth to see where this goes.

soap comforting reader - @nrdmssgs

✧ coming from someone who's had very similar anxieties around meeting a significant other's family, this hit very close to home and was so. damn. sweet. i love this so much and soap being an absolute sweetheart here was just icing on the cake.

John Price

glitter and gold || snippet - @writeforfandoms

✧ i could talk about this fic for hours. not only have i read it about a hundred times, but this fic helped inspire me to start drawing again. one of my top favorite comfort fics, everything about it is perfect. dragon!price being so in love with his wife, princess!reader finding joy and love and freedom with her new husband, the little appearances from the rest of the 141. it's all just perfect.

cardigan || part 1. it starts in a bar - @as-is-above-so-below

✧ price x teacher!reader was a lovely idea that i have been waiting for with baited breath and it did not disappoint. esp this part:

“Believe me. I get it. My career makes it difficult to find time for much of anything.”

“Yeah, well, I have sixteen kids.”

i love sassy teacher!reader.

songs that sound like sea-foam || (ii) | (iii) - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ this fic destroyed me. i had to call my mom and talk to her about it because i loved it so much. idk how to describe it, this filled me with a beautiful sense of longing and nostalgia of the classic fairytales my parents used to read me before bed

all, most, some, none - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ mmkay just one second while i-

lions and ibexes - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i love husband!price, don't get me wrong, but i think farah was the real star of this fic. her characterization is wonderful, and the talk she and reader have is so sad (for lack of a better word) but also hopeful and real. i want to have a love the way hal writes it in her fics.

late night cookies - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ perfect dad!price fic right here. really hit me right in the unresolved daddy issues. good job.

where did you sleep last night - @captainfern

✧ i might just be a sucker for pet names like my love and darling, but this was so unbelievably sweet. reader missing price so much that they light one of his cigars just for the familiar smell of him?? i'm aldkasjl i love this so much.

glory to the reaper - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ the ability of hal to just present us with pure poetry like it's no big deal is just ugh chef's kiss. like all of this here:

How can life go on when such things are uttered to light? When they’re buried deep into your marrow like the dirt on top of a grave? 

How can the Reaper knock at your doorways when love exists in such quantity…in the fractures of his eyes? Only when his lips brush yours do you understand.

absolutely stunning.

ducky socks - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ dad!price strikes again by breaking my heart in the best possible way and gluing it back together with pure sweetness and a wholesome father-daughter relationship.

Keegan P. Russ

for the weak and weary - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i am of a simple mind. i see hal has written a keegan fic, i drop everything and read the keegan fic, i sob uncontrollably and struggle to read through my tears, i scroll back up to the top and read again.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

some nights are like that - @deadbranch

✧ insert ohmygod they were roommates meme here. i love gaz, i love friends to lovers, i love roommates to lovers, i love everything about this fic. it's cute, it's sweet, it made me giggle. 10/10 will read again.

cult of vagabonds || chapter six: storm-flying petrels - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i crave this series like something else let me tell you, and each chapter completely delivers. reader is somehow so frustrating and so relatable at the same time, no regard for her own life but also...same.

to be in love - @lethalchiralium

✧ am i biased because i requested this? yes. but also because this is cute and wholesome and perfect and the idea of gaz buying flowers for his crush makes me smile like an idiot and keri did a perfect job with this.

paper rings - @lethalchiralium

✧ this is me staring at keri after she's written one of the most perfect gaz prompts i've ever read and giving me the cutest, sweetest, most wholesome treat.

get behind me - @writeforfandoms

✧ i love fall fair stuff. corn mazes, haunted houses, bobbing for apples, all of it. and it's even better with the addition of gaz. soap being a little shit had me laughing, but gaz being such a sweetheart (and a little bit of a tease) just had my smiling and giggling to myself.

there’s no need to panic, i’m right here now, aren’t i? you’re safe - @writeforfandoms

✧ gaz is the best boi and even more so when jen writes him. i love the way she portrays him being so soft and comforting, but also not afraid to take care of problems for his significant other. and, as someone who's had loud neighbors, i wish i had gaz there to take care of them for me too 😭

Miguel O'Hara

glass houses - @lethal-chiralium

✧ actual picture of me pretending to be okay after reading this and having my heart shATTERED INTO A MILLION PIECES HOW DARE YOU KERI

welcome to new york || 3 | 4 - @writeforfandoms

✧ i consume these chapters as if they're a decadent slice of cake made just for me and they're so fucking delicious every time. i love lyla and jess in this fic (i love everyone in this fic tbh, but i gotta support the girlies) and this part right here:

(Note to self: bring a sweater.)

literally me. i love this so much and can't wait see where it goes.

hammock by the sea - @wyvernest

✧ the way this fic made me want to enjoy a sunny july afternoon on my honeymoon with miguel in a hammock soooo bad. idk if feel-good can be used to describe a fic, but that's how i feel about this one. it's a feel-good fic, makes me soft and happy and wistful.

spider-girl!reader|| you haven't kissed me all day | jealous miguel | saying i love you for the first time - @luveline

✧ luveline never misses with the miguel fics. every single one is A+ 10/10 chef's kiss. the domesticity while also keeping miguel his grumpy self is just lakdjaksl i'm so weak for luveline's fics and her portrayal of miguel.

Multi

dead disco || chapter 6 - @peachesofteal

✧ i really gotta read this series in small doses, because the way it makes my heart ache cannot be healthy. i just want everything to work out, for them to be happy but goddamn does peach want me to suffer (and i happily thank her for it)

how do they cuddle - @homicidal-slvt

✧ this has any and everyone in it, but more importantly it has my boys, gaz and roach and that's all that matters to me. gaz being the type to do a little kiss attack is so cute and something i can see him doing and roach tracing little shapes and letters i'm screaming. also graves being an absolute menace, you're so right for that.

Nikto

ravishing allure || prologue | cake for a dead man (i) -@halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ do i know who nikto is? not in the slightest. did that stop me from dropping everything to read this series? not in the slightest. will i ever be normal about one of hal's amazing fics? not in the slightest :)

Phillip Graves

close your eyes for me, love - @writeforfandoms

✧ protective graves just does something for me. like, of course, he's a little shit and all that, but, as we've seen in canon, that man is loyal to a fault so it makes sense that loyalty would extend to his significant other. and also the way jen writes him just makes me blush and giggle so that's a plus 🤭

Rodolfo Parra

pressing their foreheads together - @writeforfandoms

✧ i read Warnings: soft domestic fluff and kissing. and knew this fic was gonna be made for me. and i was right. this fic made me sigh longingly. i am so astronomically weak for the way jen writes this man and the way she writes soft domesticity.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

the safe house has seen better days - @ghostaholics

✧ how does it feel to have such a perfect understanding of a character and then create such a gorgeous fic on top of that??

Always staying awake, always assigning himself to the graveyard shift for watch while everyone else squeezes in a few hours of rest before the sun comes up.

i am in awe of ms. ghostaholics and her beautiful ability to turn characterization into pure poetry.

hired as a live-in house cleaner - @ceilidho

✧ i👏🏼love👏🏼this👏🏼fic👏🏼 this turned me into a big ol' soft pile of hearts and mush ugghh just the perfect amount of fluff. very cute but subtle too and y'know i think that fits ghost pretty well.

the team is invited to a wedding - @rileyslibrary

✧ one thing about me: i love a wedding. and this fic right here? absolutely delivered. it's got everything: ghost, gaz cameo, a wedding, macarons. not to mention the A+ banter between ghost and reader, i love them and this fic so much.

happiness || white carnations - @lethal-chiralium

✧ happiness hurts in a way that leaves me somehow longing for more and i can't describe it any other way. i think keri is determined to figure out how many different ways she can break my heart with angst and fluff and i couldn't be more thankful.

circles and squares - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ i know i gushed about this fic already, but i'm gonna do it again. the best way to describe my feelings about this is that i would dedicate an entire section of my bookshelf just for jo's writing. the way she perfectly balances the differences between ghost and simon. the way he's stern and struggles, but doesn't lose his snark. the way he and reader support each other while still respecting each other and they're need for space. i'm so weak for this fic.

on the edge of the universe - @kil-g

✧ it's the world-building for me. it's the captivating atmosphere for me. there's just something so beautifully haunting here, and i am desperately clinging to every little piece of it. like i'm already feral for everything isa writes, and this is another excellent addition to the collection.

civ!reader kills someone out of self defense for the first time - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ had me hooked from the opening line and man was i on edge the rest of the time. i was panicking right there alongside reader, and the portrayal of her confusion and fear and anxiety was so well done. and ghost coming in to comfort her?? i was crying. so unbelievably good.

badly wrapped secrets - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ i just-

"Thank you, for all of this.

He nods—short, and full of understanding, as well as signalling: you’re welcome."

i love them so much 😭

blood was its avatar - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i was fighting for my life trying to read this without blushing like a sinner in church and ended up looking something like this-

and i damn near cackled like a witch at that ending LMAO

the roommate series || lover boy - @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

✧ i knew nothing about this series going on and when i tell you i read through it with a swiftness. my skin is clear, my knees are weak, my livestock is fed. this fic (this whole series tbh) has reached in and wrapped around my heart in the best possible way.

illicit indulgences || the ghost of you - @floralpascal

✧ i am screaming. this is so...i don't know the right word. beautiful? stunning? gorgeous? all of the above? the captivating description of loneliness, the way ella manages to capture the stubbornness of ghost missing someone but refusing to admit to himself that he does. they're so perfect and in love and i'm just alskdaj

can you imagine someone threatening you - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ you ever hear that phrase, so nice you reblog it twice? well i have, cause that's exactly what i did with this fic. it's the least i could do for the pure artistry of this fic. i love reader here, being so confident and capable and ghost being completely infatuated by her ability and so ready to kill anyone who disrespects her.

Valeria Garza

10 years too late on that, love - @writeforfandoms

✧ hello???? this was incredible???? i am??? slightly intimidated???? and in love??? with both valeria because she's mommy and with jen because she's such a wonderful writer and i am in awe of her talent.

#moth fic recs #fave fics #monthly fic recs

[proseka-headcanons]

hi i'm the guy who wrote a whole ass essay about my fav ships, with Nene as an unwilling match-maker. headcanons for the Shinonomes bc i love them;

- Akito can draw, courtesy of having an artist as a sister. Like, if he decided to pursue art instead of music, he could. His art is almost on par with Ena's. I think that when VBS was too lazy to do a choreography for a song they want to upload on social medias, they'd make Akito make an MV for it lol (ofc the others would help him make it, n25 style)

- I think it's pretty much canon that the Shinonomes have sweet tooth, especially for pancakes and cheesecakes, but i want to expand on that; New dessert shop down the street? they'd already bought the entire menu by the end of the week. New dessert recipe on trend? when Shinonodad (i forgor his name) came home, the kitchen was messy af and the culprits were on the sofa, eating said dessert while watching netflix or smth.

- Adding to that, everytime it's like, Valentine's, or White Day, or any celebration day where cafes and shops would have like, couple discounts, Ena and Akito would pretend to be couple just to get that discount or free dessert. it's the only time they were nice to each other. Mizuki caught them once. She took a photo of them and sent it to the Kamiyama gang gc. An died laughing. Nene said that's actually genius.

- Everytime N25 had a meeting, at one point they'll get the honor of witnessing the fight of the Shinonomes first hand. like, it's so common for the Shinonomes to fight in the dead of night that at this point, Mizuki already prepared popcorns.

- None of them are a morning person. At 6 AM every morning, you will witness the waking up for school Akito and just finished school Ena. They either stare at each other before having a mutual understanding, or the other would somehow trigger the other and they would have a boderline almost physical fight.

- also yes they have fist-fighted each other for at least 5 times in their life. And i just know one of the fight was bc one of them ate the other's cheesecake.

- Akito is trans-masc and Ena is trans-fem. They traded genders.

- They also traded clothes.

- When they came out, Shinei (shinonodad, i remembered his name finally) actually doesn't really care. for how much he's an asshole, he still loves his kids. Shinei just goes "oh, ok" and hugged them. Shinei's not the best parent but he's trying.

- Shinei actually bought Akito a binder. Akito cried.

- WLW and MLM hostility. that's them.

- Akito knows how to style hair. He taught Ena how to do it.

- ENA GOES TO VBS' CONCERTS AND AKITO ALWAYS WAITS FOR N25'S SONGS PREMIERES. they'd rather die than admit that tho.

ok yeah this is getting long enough. i love the Shinonomes sm.

-- also can I call myself unofficial mod Tsukasa from now on :D?

i love. everything. about this. also call yourself whatev you want (im a lil confused about it but as long as no ones going after my name(iwillfindyou(iamtherealakitoshinonome))). ive read so many sad headcannons about akito being able to draw really well, and ena getting so upset about it that he just stopped all together. dont get me wrong, i am an angst enjoyer but man. one of the serious fights theyve had was over akito supposedly "stealing" the only thing ena enjoyed. :( - 🥞

OUGHFHFHHFHFHFGHGHG.... this is all so real I'm sobbing - mod ena

#mod akito #prjsk #project sekai colorful stage #proseca #prosekai #prsk #project sekai #proseka #project sekai colorful stage featuring hatsune miku #project sekai headcanons #proseka headcanons #shinonome ena #akito shinonome #shinonome akito #ena shinonome #tagged by mod rui #mod ena

[anatrik]

First thoughts TTPD:

What a lana x folklore girlie win this issss!

1.Fortnight is about matty?? HAHAHAHA also why did this make me think of when holt was going running with the ladies when he was in witness protection??? Crying. Fav line has to be they were supposed to take me away but they forgot to come and get me. So sad but also so cool in relation to her cancellation/return. 10/10

2. TTPD- not so hahahaha anymore IS THIS ACTUALLY A FUCKING MATTY HEALY ALBUM??? There was a typewriter at the 1975 show she performed anti-hero at? Unless its somehow about harry? Who else is tattooed on her roster??? Or is this about herself? Kinda feel like modern idiots/who’s going to decode is directed at us lol😂 9/10?

3.My boy only breaks his favourite toys- went in expecting mad woman rage. Pleasantly surprised. king of my heart to queen of sandcastles he destroys….DESTROYED ME. Are you fucking kidding me rn? Im caling it. Best song. Im crying at 7.30 am this is not funny anymore. Also THANK YOU FOR NOT SLANDERING DAD. I knew you wouldnt let us down like that. Also the chorus sounds like long story short😭 oh this is so sad. Once i fix me hes going to miss me? He was my best friend?😭 he runs because he loves me? Stopp😭😭 1000000/10

4.Down bad- ….aaaand we’re back to MATTY AGAIN? He does not deserve this spotlight but why are all the song so goood😭😭😭 is this why artists love to date problematic men? It unlocks some extraordinary potential? Crazy crazy girl😭 also stay down (bad) 🤌🏾 shes done it again 10/10 also for personal reasons i will be believing this is about joe in that Tom/Joe/met gala overlap period when she was photographed going to the gym a lot and that this is about all that yearning please let it be about that plesplesplesplesplesples also down bad waking up in blood staring at the sky…like i lost a twin is giving bigger than the whole sky🥺

5. So long, london- so so long long, lon-don DONE? ok miss girl😭 the hoax parallels😭 dont be undoing the song i was going to play at my weddddding what is wrong with you😭 my only one my smoking gun to two graves one gun youll find someone??? Also reminds me of la la land :/ how much sad did you think I had in me? You wrote hoax so a lot ok leave us alone. crying again. 10000000000000000/10 oh lol its a track 5 ofc it is😂

6. But daddy I love him- she really said if you ever liked, shared or even LOOKED at the ‘vivaa las vegas’ memes you cant come to the wedding and shes so real for it. Lfgggg. Ubothered unhinged uhmazing. Growing up precocious sometimes means you still hold on to that princess/quarterback wattpad fantasy AS IS YOUR RIGHT QUEEN GO THE FUCK OFF🥳 100000/10 calling out toxic fandom for the first time and we love to see it🫡 this is suchhhh a happy songggg you deserve ALL the chaos and revelry.

7. Fresh out the slammer- god she gets it. Like sure he was great and he is still my biological father and everything but as a decidedly melancholy person myself who has constantly had atleast one close friend in a deep depression I can see how all that heavy lifting can just get heavy at some point especially when youre a partner and their sole lighthouse in wtv storms be out there buffeting their mental health. Its not for everyone and thats so fair and so valid but so sad as well. 10/10 for the honesty.

8. Florida- she really said girlrot summer🫡 this is the lanaest song ever. So lucky one/nothing new coded. This will be the First song I repeat and then so long london. Aaaghhh how i love a self aware melancholic anxious little superstar. 90283749292/10 thank you for giving florence an entire verse whew. Little did you know your home’s really only a town you’re just a guest in is soooo going on my body forever

9. Guilty as sin?- honestly just fuck if it means we dont have to hear about how desirable ratty healy is man ffs. IThe only reason he looks so hot is bc hes forbidden. You have to trust me on this. He’s sooo mid JESUS. U cant be writing hozier lyrics about a man that hasn’t met a shower😭 1000000/10 writing. -16392992/10 content. Unrequited love/lust truly is the greatest weapon in a poets arsenal bc where is this energy in the joe songs binch?😭 this is such a teen in love with a 26 yo creep who called me so mature for my age mom you just dont get ittt anthem😂😂

10. Who’s afraid of little old me?- is a warning 😂 im so here for it. Like yes I still hate matty with all my heart and soul but yes I agree fans should not be allowed so much of an opinion on another persons life and yes I should be afraid (I am). She said aight love letter era over I AM WRITING YOU ALL HATE MAIL AND I’M HAND DELIVERING IT. Shes sooo done pretending to be the relatable girl next door when she’s anything but and is now reminding us of it and yes yes yessss girl OWN ITTTTTTTT. I’ve been saying for agesssss that there is a darkness under all that sunshine from where she clawed her way to the top and this is sooo vindicating. 10000000000000/10 favourite song ever. Mad woman wishes she was who’s afraid of little old me. I am unwell. I am in love. This is the Taylor Swift i stan. The marketing genius the calculating business woman the puppet master with narcotics in her songs thats why we sing along🫡 she so can handle a dangerous man

11. I can fix him (no really I can)- you cant.

12. loml- ofc. OFC. Its the saddest song of all time. OFC. Fuck offf ughhhh. 😭😭😭😭😭 its giving happiness. Its giving divorce. i am a child of a broken home now and my parents still love each other and hold so much regret still. What do i do with thissss? Im just a little girl taylorrr! 1002380292011010101/10 soo so gooood.

13. I can do it with a broken heart- first of all track 13. Love it. Second of all the upbeat barbieness of it all. Third of all I FINALLY PLACED IT. Shes in her unrelatable era. She is not your girl next door. You will never understand her life. She is as much a phenomenon as a person and we literally only see as much as she allows us to and honestly if i have to get put in my place theres noooo better way to have it done. Im having such a great time actually. 10 BILLION TRILLION OUT OF 10 you tellll em girl you FUCKING TELL EM.

14. Smallest man who ever lived- not going to speculate on who it is bc they clearly had a serious problem and its not a joke but damn :/ thats so sad :/ hope they get help? Didnt expect this to be what the song was about at all?

15. The alchemy- she said TRAVIS IS MY BOY WITH HER WHOLE CHEST😌 10/10

16. Clara bow- did she just name drop herself ? I was so right about unrelatable era. Also the Subtle nod to olivia/sabrina noted and appreciated. Lucky one/castles crumbling (mature version) fr fr. Solid legacy song.

17. The black dog- shared your secrets with and location is the same whiplash as a red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground with no one around to tweet it🤌🏾 joe songs hit so so different 😭😭😭 1000000000/10

18. imgonnagetyouback- the valiant roar was not so valiant and more of a mew i guess. 7/10

19. The albatross- oh this is the ONE. The album defining song for sureeee. Mad woman on coke. A rose by any other name is a scandal???? Thats my religion right there. Little last great American dynasty twist there at the end! Fuck yea. She does reallly try to warn the men in her life have to give her that. One gazillion/10

20. Clearly god has favourites and they are the ppl called chloe or sam or sophia or marcus😭 ALSO this song is about joe for sure. The internet starlet hasss to be delaney rowe!!!! It HAS TO BE. 10/10

21. How did it end?- shes back for the fans😂 plot twist the breakup is with yall🤌🏾 but yesss say it louder! One gasp and then how did it end. So good. 100/10

22. So high school- lmao aristotle grand theft auto ONLYY taylor swift man😭😂 you know what you want and boy you got her🫡🫡 11/10

23. I hate it here- mother’s having a mental breakdown kids yk the drill🤌🏾 10/10

24. ThanK you aIMiee- what better way to say fuck you to a hater than to thank her for jumpstarting your legacy my god!!! She is insane for this. The capitalisation is a bit petty tho ngl. 8/10

25. I look in peoples windows- once again I thank you for the kindness and respect shown to joe. Never doubted you but thank you nevertheless. 10/10 short as nice to have a friend but it didnt need to be longer.

26. The prophecy- its so sad and humbling to see even a woman at where she is having to beg for love bc that literally is the nature of love. Something humiliating, to have to beg for 🤷‍♀️ cards playing out like fools in a fable cursed like eve got bitten. No one writes like her damn. 10/10

27. Cassandra- very madeline miller on this one. Love love loveee modern takes on tragic greek women. 100/10

28. Peter- ah fuck. This one is going to hurt (it did). 1000000/10 my ribs get the feeling she did😭 all her joe related aches are so bone deeeep ugh. Promises oceans deep but never to keep😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 oh god it hurtsss it hurts it hurtss

29. The bolter- curious child ever reviled except by her father wow.

30. Robin- OMG! I needed this song growing up sooo bad. That way to go tiger felt so so warm like running into a kitchen after a day of being in the mud and u tell ur mum the silly things u did and shes genuinely interested and impressed by your smol victories. A bajillion/10

31. The manuscript- postmortem of every ex ever🤌🏾 love it.

#taylor swift #anatrik #ttpd #fortnight #clara bow #but daddy i love him #the smallest man who ever lived #loml #my boy only breaks his favourite toys #down bad #so long london #fresh out the slammer #florida #guilty as sin? #who’s afraid of little old me #the alchemy #i can do it with a broken heart #first thoughts #the tortured poets department #my writing #the black dog #the albatross #chloe or sam or sophia or marcus #how did it end? #i hate it here #thanK you aIMee #i look in people's windows #peter #cassandra #robin

[zees-hat]

whats ur fav ships and why !!!!!!!!!!!!!

u just unleashed my insanity.

heads up im picky about ships and am not too big on multishipping BUT NOT CRAPPING ON MULTISHIPPERS YOU GUYS ARE COOL i like seeing the art and stuff :3 🫶🏻🫶🏻

will start with og and then reboot cuz YIPPEEEEE

OG

Alenoah like ough they’re LITERALLY enemies to lovers fuck yeah the chemistry is great and the ANGST possibilities omg

GWOURTNEYYY omg they are so cute and the energy was there i swear. love that trope though like two ex girlfriends dating EACH OTHER LIKE FUCK YEAH

Ozzy because like they’re literally adorable and izzy is insane i love her. the world tour song owen sang about her is stuck in my brain 😭

Lyler. ohhhhh my god the cuties ever. Yall stay with me here when i say I HC THEM AS T4T LIKE FUCK YEAH ‼️‼️

Lesharold is cute but man it’s been ROUGHHH in world tour they’re sillies tho :3

Gidgette?? i swear that sounds so wrong for some reason but like whatevs 😞 they’re cute in season 1 but man they gotta work things OUT rn

Djuncan. holy SHIT i literally just learned about this ship TODAY and its already in my damn brain like not even kidding theyre real to me like the opposites attract is GIVINGGGGG

REBOOT

Rajbow OBVI like omg THEYRE SO CUTE :(( they literally light up when they see each other istg I WANNA SQUISH THEM AND PUT THEM IN A JAR

Damiwayne bc OOOOH THEY SNUCK UP ON ME A LONG TIME AGO. i used to be a juliayne shipper like right when i first started watching reboot but like changed my mind real fast 😭

Mkulia and oh my GOD i swear if they aren’t canon if there’s a season three there will be RIOTS i tell you, RIOTS. the villain gfs ever

Ripaxel i used to hate so so much but they GREW on me like GOT ME BY THE THROAT ripper is so pathetic and i love him, girlboss x actual loser

Chazee is where it gets more rare like this is such a crack ship but in an /srs way theyre GAYYYY i would write oneshots about them

Sillie. if u dont know its scary girl x millie now like this IS A RAREPAIR BUT LIKE HEAR ME OUT OKAY like girlfriend who does research x girlfriend who is an insane creature like do u guys get the vision 🙏

Nichemma oh my god they’re so cutesy i love them SO MUCH another rarepair but aaaaahhh i like it!! nichelle would be so much better for her i swear

thats all i got ‼️🫶🏻

#total drama #total drama ships #tdi #tdr #alenoah #gwourtney #td ozzy #td lyler #lesharold #djuncan #rajbow #damiwayne #mkulia #ripaxel #chazee #td sillie #nichemma #GAYS WIN EVERYBODY

[neck-thats-made-for-bruising]

In honor of Lovers birthday tell us what your fav lyric(s) is/are from each song

IFTYE: Your name on lips, tongue tied/free rent, living in my mind

Cruel summer: Said "I'm fine," but it wasn't true

Lover: My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

The man: If I was out flashing my dollars/I'd be a bitch not a baller

The archer: They see right through/Can you see right through me?

I think he knows: Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh/We could follow the sparks, I'll drive

MA&THP: It's you and me, that's my whole world/They whisper in the hallway "shes's a bad, bad girl"

Paper rings: The moon is high/Like your friends were the night that we first met

Cornelia Street: Baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name

DBATC: But if the story's over, why am I still writing pages?

London boy: BABES DON'T THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME

Soon you'll get better: I know delusion when I see it in the mirror

False God: The alter is my hips

YNTCD: CAUSE SHADE NEVER MADE ANYBODY LESS GAY

Afterglow: Hey it's all me, in my head/I'm the one who burned us down/but it's not what I meant

ME!: HEY KIDS, SPELLING IS FUN

INTHAF: You been stressed out lately, yeah me too

Daylight: I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you/I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you & I wounded the good and trusted the wicked

tagging some of my fellow swifites (no pressure) @ava-taylors-versionversion @angerycat @mqstermindswift @when-emma-falls-in-love13 @two-maroon-ghosts @wonderstruck-land89 @stvrlighhttt @poppy-inmyhair @person4924 @bookish-swiftie13 @bejeweled-13 @my-castles-crumbling @andtheysaidspeaknow-13 @sleepingswift85 @erasofswift @friendship-bracelets-anon

sorry if I forgot anyone, if you want to join you can <3