#yeah i'm the boogie man! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jointherebellion215 · 2 months

Text

Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly.

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?”

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands.

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.” You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.”

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely.

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her.

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her.

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd.

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you.

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile….

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.”

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over.

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love”

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base.

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred.

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

283 notes · View notes

restinslices · 3 months

Note

Ahhhh after some thought I’ll choose the earthrealm men with a lovey dovey s/o 👉🏻👈🏻

back to requests a mere 6 days after saying I was gonna take a break. Was that post a little unnecessary? Yes, but I didn’t want anyone to get mad at me for not posting everyday and not getting to requests immediately. ANYWAY, back like the flu.

Johnny Cage

Johnny “Loves Attention” Cage is having the best time

Do y'all remember how much of a cornball this man was in the game? He has no shame

So a significant other who also has no shame? He's getting on one knee as soon as possible

He tries to out cornball you

He loves it all. The stupid nicknames, the cuddling, the gifts, the giggling, all the adoration, he's just in love

Definitely returns the favor. If you buy him smth, he's buying you smth (let's ignore that debt), you give him a nickname so he gives you one. It goes on and on

All this lovey dovey shit might exhaust some people. Johnny is not some people.

The nicknames are probably his favorite part. He makes the most atrocious nicknames up because you won't be upset

Some real dumb shit like Oogy Boogy Sweetie Weetie Cutie Patootie Kissy Face- yeah all that shit is one nickname. Why? Because it's funny to him and you'll laugh

The type to get y'all dumbass matching shirts

“If found return to stupid” “I'm stupid”

Those type of shirts

Everyone hates you because it becomes a competition of who can be the most corny. It's tortuous for anyone near you

Cannot express enough how much this man enjoys the attention you give him. If one day you decided to ignore him as a joke, he'd actually be so sad and notice immediately

He just adores having a corny lovey dovey partner. The best thing to happen to him.

Kenshi Takahashi

He doesn't hate it but he definitely needs a breather sometimes

Having a lovey dovey partner isn't terrible to him. All the touching and nicknames and being spoiled is definitely cute to him, but being lovey dovey also means you're on him a lot. Kenshi doesn't give me huge extrovert vibes so I think because you're so extreme(?) that there's times when he needs a break

He thinks it's adorable though. He likes feeling wanted so he likes how outwardly you are with your love

Idk if he likes all the nicknames though. I can see him easily cringing if you go overboard

Idk how he'd feel about you spoiling him. He doesn't hate it but he feels like everytime you give him a gift, he has to give you one and he ain't got that shit on him. His own thoughts are running him dry

When his social battery is recharged I think he'd like how physical and sweet you are

He enjoys how loved you make him feel. He's just not sure how to respond sometimes. I can see you saying something really corny and although he thinks it's cute, his brain doesn't move fast enough and he ends up just staring at you

He rolls his eyes a lot too so it can give the appearance that he's annoyed by you but it's definitely not that

You want some corny shit he'll definitely like? Matching jewelry. He'll eat it up like it's a cookie

Also draw over his tattoos. He loves it

Loves the corny shit his brain just legit shuts off sometimes

Kung Lao

Like Johnny, he enjoys the attention

Idk if he necessarily enjoys all the corny things. I don't get a strong feeling from him. Maybe it depends on the day

Likes the attention and spoiling but all the corny nicknames and shirts and just being a total sap makes him a little uncomfortable at times

Once again, it depends on the day. Sometimes he's all for it and sometimes he's like “let's calm down for today”

Gets you a matching hat but without all the sharp shit because he doesn't trust you with sharp objects

He's a mix of Johnny and Kenshi tbh

He refuses to wear those corny matching shirts. You'll have to kill him

That applies to other things too

Those corny nicknames Johnny would make up? He'd prefer a beating from a serious Spiderman

“Aw my Snookie Wookie-” “I'm gonna shoot myself right here right now. Please stop”

It's cute and he acknowledges that it's how you show love but certain things just ain't gonna work with him

Especially in public certain things just won't work with him because he has an ego and thinks certain things will make him look weird. It's giving insecure teen

Don't doubt his love for you though. He loves his little sap. Just take it a bit slow

At some point a switch would flip and he'd go from being embarrassed to thinking “wow, I'm so great my partner is willing to look silly in front of others!”

Now he feeds into your corny bullshit

A win is a win

Raiden

I fully believe him and Liu Kang are romantics, therefore he loves it

He gets flustered easily so tons of affection makes his face go red and all that cute shit

His brain also short circuits like Kenshi's. He's so bad at pretending he's not flustered

“Are you blushing?” “...” “...” “...” “Raiden?” “Of course not”

Likes the consistent physical contact

Spoiling him also makes him short circuit. He's trying to think of how to thank you but all that comes out is “oh!”

Adores you just as much as you adore him

He likes gift giving. And idk mean just jewelry, I mean “you got me all these gifts so I'm gonna bring you a bunch of produce and hey, maybe we can cook later”

We saw him collecting cabbages like Cabbage Man from ATLA in the beginning of the game, he gotta still have the hook up

Loves receiving cheek kisses

Man is so weak in the knees. Kung Lao can yell “STAND UP!” all he wants. That shit is not happening

Play with his hair. Once again, weak in the knees

He's having a great time. Sure he's easily embarrassed but it's not like “omg, you're being weird. Stop”. It's more of a “I love this but I feel like everyone's looking”

You two are super lovey dovey but not as obnoxious as you and Johnny. Johnny is like “you can't out corny me” and Raiden is just tryna vibe and love on you since you love on him

All the embarrassment he feels is so worth it to him

Liu Kang

A romantic so all that lovey dovey shit? Heaven to him

Liu Kang has so much love to give and he's never allowed to share it because his life is ass in every timeline

So a partner that adores him and shows him how much they adore him? Did the Elder Gods hand craft you for him?

He's honestly a mix of everyone. He wants to love you all the time like Johnny, he loves how much you love him like Kenshi, he loves how much you outwardly adore him like Kung Lao and he's a huge romantic that loves how much time you spend together like Raiden

He's so love deprived so he loves everything you wanna do

Matching shirts, jewelry, socks, whatever the fuck? Absolutely.

Spoiling him with random shit? He'll take it all

Telling him how much you love him all the time? Yes.

Giving him the dumbest and corniest nicknames? He'll take that too

He's also lovey dovey so the feeling is very much mutual

Enjoys quality time so you wanting to be on his hip is very much welcomed

You're a breath of fresh air since you're so kind and loving to him. Remember he has all the memories of the past timeline, then this timeline gets fucked up. He's used to constant smoke and destruction so someone being so nice and sweet to him and relaxing with him is heavenly to him

Doesn't matter how corny it is. It's all he wants

Real quick, two things. Firstly I wanna make more MK1 intros so y’all should give me ideas. Secondly I think it would be fun if we as a unit made an MK1 oc. I’d make polls, you’d vote on certain things and then we use the same results but tinker it to our individual liking. For example maybe we know they’re Edenian but their gender is up to you. It’d be like a bunch of variants. A Multiverse of Madness if you will.

312 notes · View notes

hotteoki · 9 months

Text

drunk bf ateez headcanons - 2k celebration!

pairing: ateez x reader (no prns used)

cw: mentions of alcohol (obvie)

genre: fluff, established relationship, headcanon

notes: after watching drunkteez on wanteez and having yunho on my mind i just had to write this ( ˘ ³˘)

notes: this is my second celebration post! happy 2k followers!

hongjoong

he seems fine

at first

he's downing shots, glasses, bottles

at flash speed

but he's fine

even he says he's fine

"i just don't feel anything"

"well i mean some people just don't get drunk"

"maybe i'm just reeeeeally talented"

you're like thinking 'oh! he's not too bad'

...

did the 'reeeeeally' not give you warning signs in your head

you spoke too soon

next thing you know he's trying to shove his head down the billiard/pool/snooker table holes

it's more of gently ramming his head against the table edge than shoving his head tho

you were dying laughing by the time you reached him

"joong what are you doing???"

"i'm looking for thissssss"

"what is 'this', joongie?"

it's silent for a while and you're rubbing his back

then he just pops up

"this!"🫰🏻

(ಠ ಠ)

he thinks he's sooooo funny

you had to stare at him for a good few minutes before processing what the hell you just witnessed

he's upgraded from terrible dad jokes to terrible rizz jokes

i don't think i can decipher which is worse

he's also balancing the shot glasses on the back of his hand

which had you PANICKING

a whole migraine just from that

forget a hangover

your fear of him breaking one of those is enough for you to want to die

surprisingly he didn't break any

"see baby? i'm just tooooooo talented"

he's giggling so much

it's so cute :(

but add the worst aegyo in the world to the list

it’s near bang chan level of horrifying

i mean sure

joong is NATURALLY a giant tiny cutie

but when he’s doing it on purpose???

um.

well!

okay!

(유∀유|||)

have fun!

seonghwa

no thoughts behind those eyes

just blink blink (0_0) (-_-) (0_0)

i'm pretty sure he's on mars

and out of nowhere he starts singing along to i want it that way playing in the background (b99 ref (ʃƪ˘ﻬ˘))

singing along very loudly if i may add

BUT

as soon as the song ends

he's back to his (0_0) (-_-) (0_0) agenda

at one point

you’ve just gotten used to his giggles and clapping out of the blue

yeah he just applauds randomly

to whom and why?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

he just wants to i guess

"hwa, i think we should go now it's like 4am-"

"HAKUNA MATATA YO"

oh he's singing again!

will not stop for the next twenty minutes

in his head it's a free karaoke bar

and he's just singing to his heart's content

he can also get pouty very quickly

and is very, very clingy

whichever one of your arm is nearer to him is not going to hear the bells of freedom for the rest of the long night

to be fair

if any of the other members are near him

he's also going to be clinging to them

just

a little less than you

he loves you the most after all! ><

all in all

he's pretty chill

every now and then

this is a bit short cause i don’t know what else i could say i’m sorry (╥_╥)

i'll make it up with a seonghwa drabble soon promise

yunho

where did this man's energy come from???????

one minute he's on the dance floor

he's 'boogying', as he said

the next he's running laps around the bar

you're just shocked he hasn't crashed into another poor innocent person yet

oh and now he's on the stage! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

are you ripping out your hair yet

( ˘ ɜ˘) ♬♪♫ (yunho!!!!!!)>ヽ(‵﹏´)ノ

he's singing what seems to be halazia

except it's literally just the word halazia being repeated

you're pretty sure he sang 'hala-hala-hala-hala-halazia' like about seven times

stream seven by jungkook

you had to physically drag him down from the stage

“nooooo baby you don’t understand i still need to sing hips don’t lie they need meeeeeee (ง'̀-'́)ง”

“yeah ok shakira let’s go”

his hand slips from yours and he’s sucked into the wardrobe of narnia

cause even tho he’s a literal giant

you can’t seem to find his usually sticking out head

the reason why?

he’s squatting while doing the dougie

why? i don’t know

i don’t think he knows either

but he’s dougieing!

he’s also spitting BARS

starts rapping to mingi’s part in guerilla while you’re trying to drag him out

at this point you’re beginning to suspect that he’s not actually drunk

maybe a little tipsy

but mostly just staying to cause chaos

and to give you a headache

but his little pout as you’re pulling him away

“yuyu come on we have to go >:(“

“but baby i don’t want tooooo”

does this face 🥺

yk that one time when ateez made faces imitating the emoji signs they were holding

and yuyu had the 🥺 one

THATS EXACTLY THE FACE HES MAKING

and how can you deny this golden retriever :,)

(if you can resist it you’re just a maniac frankenstein cheoreom georeo maniac maniac ha ha idk i don’t make the rules)

“okay fine… but no-”

“YAY i’ll be back”

he does in fact come back a few minutes later

HOLDING A PIGEON?????

“YUNHO WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? PUT THE BIRD DOWN-”

“i made a friend! :D”

you’re certain he took a few years off your life in just one night

yeosang

since we've never actually seen him drunk

cause he's a fairy

i'll go by what joong san and hwa were saying in their vlive like ages ago

cause apparently yeosang gets all cute

so let's imagine a very clingy sangie

just tugging and snuggling into your arm

mumbling your name too

his cute nose scrunches up whenever you try to move

he whines about how you don’t love him anymore

literally just because you moved to scratch an itch on your neck

“sangie what do you mean i don’t love you anymore of course-”

“you don’t LOVE ME ANYMORE :-(”

near tears because he’s convinced of his point

sigh

“baby why do you think i don’t love you anymore?”

“hm??”

confused blink blink

he’s forgotten what he was even saying

your hand brushing through his hair is just too distracting!!!!

he’s a simple man ok?

( ๑>ᴗ<๑ )

that’s how i imagine he looks

with a flushed face

but still looking like an angel sent from heaven

but yk

don’t forget about his muscles

（ΦωΦ）

atp he’s fed up with you moving around while trying to take care of the other members

so he just tightens his iron grip on your arm

good luck moving a literal koala clinging onto your arm

like hwa’s situation

you’re not moving another inch until he’s satisfied with the amount of love he’s showered you

which

he never will be

◝(๑꒪່౪̮꒪່๑)◜

again very short cause i have nothing to come from ;-(

san

literally the LOUDEST mfer in the bar

you can expect everyone within a twenty meter radius to be staring at the two of you

you just standing there like (ಥ‿ಥ) and he's just like ᕙ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕗ

flexing

he's not doing it on purpose

but like

come on

how can you NOT stare at the gorgeous man that is your boyfriend

gawddamn

what snaps you out of your daze was san suddenly pointing at you

"san what are you doing?"

"youuuuuu... are soooooo... not me"

🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

oh he's so far gone

i don't think even he knows what he's doing

bro's just saying things

he's literally the walking epitome of speaking to speak

the worst, and i mean absolutely WORST case of asian flush ever

every exposed square inch of his skin is bright red

you're like

panicking trying to get him to sit down

cause he's stumbling around into every person in the bar

he's practically knocking them over like bowling pins

then immediately apologising in the cutest way possible

the second he's made it out of the human mosh pit tho

(╥﹏╥)

you're like (ಠ ''ಠ)

"sannie, honey, why are you crying?"

"i don't know"

sniffle

"i just love you soooooo much..."

"thank you i-"

"like SOOOOO much"

"okay thank you baby-"

"i love you like thissssssss much"

he's holding out his hands

and he's stretching them out as far as possible

and before you know it

oop! he's bear hugging you

his cheek is squished against the top of your head as he's mumbling incoherent words

the only thing you can make out tho is

"i love you so much"

you guys are such goals (;-;)

mingi

okay since we’ve never seen drunk minki

i’m going to go by the endoscopy ep

where he was breakdancing

at first he was convincing gaslighting you that he was fine

because fine means stumbling around and not even being able to walk in a straight line

but whatever suits him! :p

no seriously

he could not walk properly for the LIFE of him

he was crashing into strangers and waiters alike here and there

and by crashing

i mean practically throwing himself onto them

but the second he stands back up

he’s back to yelling into their faces that he’s sober

like mingi…

no one believes you

(￢_￢;)

you were following him right on his tail

frantically apologising to everyone he disturbed

and he’s bopping his head

he’s jamming!!!!!! 乁( • ω •乁)

he’s in his own little world

which is so adorable you almost want to cry :-(

but by the time you have to leave

and he’s STILL dancing around

you have to start pulling aggressively on his arm

he won’t go otherwise

he could stay there all night just to prove a point

the point?

that he’s sober

yes he’s still on that topic

because he’s 100% NOT drunk!!!!!!!!!!

“mingi we have to go-”

“BUT BRUNO MARS IS ON”

“MINGI ITS NOT EVEN BRUNO MARS ITS JUSTIN BEIBER”

“…o yea! ヽ(･∀･)ﾉ”

sigh moment from you

“i want bruno mars thoooooo do you fink i can request for bruno marsssss??????”

“no”

“why not!!!!!! ;-(”

“cause we have to go (˘∀˘)/(ㅠ~ㅠ)”

pushing him out of the bar now

he’s a fun person to be around when you’re drunk as well tho

wooyoung

witch cackle amplified by 2611%

it’s so funny tho

he laughs over literally NOTHING

a stranger walking in the bar?

HILARIOUS

someone passing by?

howling on the floor

the toilet door opening?

he’s wiping away tears

hongjoong tripping over a chair in his drunken state?

he’s getting a 10 pack at this rate

to be fair

you also cackled at poor hongjoong pretending like his dignity didn’t just get absolutely annihilated

at the same time

he’s also just fumbling around

he’s not very sober

not sober enough to recognise you

“oooooooh you’re soooooooo good looking we should go outttt”

“wooyoung this is the fifth time tonight we’ve been together for over a year”

“say whaaaaaaaaaat???!!!!?!!?!”

starts coddling you after that

he’s so sweet but in a loud way

well

louder than usual

cant stop kissing you (ﾉ´ з `)ノ

no literally

i’m not exaggerating

he will CHASE you around the pub to kiss you if needed

he has done that before (in my head)

“wooyoung people are staring-”

“COME BACK LEMME KISS YOUUUUUUU ε=┌(;･д･)┘”

now

you might be thinking

skits, why would i ever deny kisses from wooyoung????

yeah see

he thinks he’s kissing you

he’s not

he’s biting you

like full on CHOMP CHOMP CHOMPERS

it’s not even cute lil :3 nom noms

ITS LITERALLY FULL ON TEETH RAWRS

so unless you want a chunk of your skin gone

start running! :p

jongho

you really think he's going to be the drunk one?

him??????

bro has not seen a day of being drunk

he could be downing bottles of every kind of alcohol known to mankind

and still be fresh as a daisy

(≖ᴗ≖) ✿

he'd be the one challenging the entire bar into drinking too

he handles his alcohol very well

let's be honest, you're probably the one drunk

he's going to be taking care of you instead

BUT you never told him how he once drunkenly went up to the bar stage

and started shooing off the performers

before flaunting off his vocals

so that was fun

let's say he hypothetically was wasted tho

i'll use the endoscopy ep as an example like mingi

he's just going to be asleep

just

snore mimimimi snore mimimimi

he might wake up like every half hour

and get all confused

but it's so cute :(

like he's just lifting his head up from your lap

◝(´Ｏ｀)◜

probably definitely drooling tho

it's going to be pretty short for him cause he just doesn't get drunk

he's invincible

networks - @kflixnet k-labels kbookshelf neverendingdreams-net straykidsland @k-films

652 notes · View notes

joelswritingmistress · 7 months

Text

Last Halloween: Chapter 3

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Warning: Angst, mild language

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

"He's coming?" Your friend Jessie asked, practically letting her jaw drop to the floor as she adjusted her cowboy hat in the mirror.

"Shh." You put a finger to your lips and pulled on a pair of black spandex for your cat costume. "I don't want to tell Winnie or Chris." You knew they would give you a hard time, but Jessie was a little more open minded.

"Okay, okay." She pretended to zip her lip. "I won't say anything."

"Thank you." You tossed on a black shirt with lacy sleeves before grabbing the cat mask. After Jessie checked herself out once more in the bathroom mirror, you reached for your keys. "Let's boogie," you whispered.

The ride over was focused on Joel talk, and you didn't particularly mind. You were kind of itching to talk about him.

"Are you into him?" Jessie asked.

You weren't a good liar so you were honest, despite the potential backlash. After that motorcycle ride it was like a switch had been flipped inside of you.

"Yeah. I mean, I think so."

"Wow." She giggled, "It's so.. random. Not judging. I just.. wow. Why?"

"Why?" You shrugged as you drove. "He gave me a ride on his motorcycle earlier and-"

"Wait, what?" She grabbed your forearm without even realizing it.

You laughed. "We rode around town and then he drove me back to pick up my car at the junkyard. That's why I was so late getting home."

"How old is he?"

"I'm not sure."

"He's a least ten years older than us. Probably more."

You shrugged again. "I'm just feeling things out. I really just want him to have a friend." You turned to look at Jessie for a quick second. "Ya know?"

"Oh, I know." She chuckled. "A friend with benefits."

You laughed and swatted at her. "Cut it out."

"Just let me know what color bridesmaid dress I should wear."

You rolled your eyes with a grin and the two of you had another laugh.

The sign for the tavern came into view by the road side and you pulled into the parking lot, allowing your car to merge in with all the others. You both reached for your purses in the back seat and then headed toward the door that led inside.

On your walk up you heard someone call out your name and turned to see the man in the plastic scarecrow mask. Joel. Seeing him there alleviated any anxiety that lingered on the chance of him not showing up. He *had* showed up, and you knew how big of a step that was for him.

"Hey!" You greeted him with a hug and he partially lifted the mask as your roommate began to introduce herself. A moment later, the three of you were walking inside, welcomed by the beat of the old time seasonal song, Midnight Monsters Hop.

"I'm gunna go get a drink," Chrissy shouted, using her thumb to motion toward the bar that was overflowing with ghouls, ghosts and everything in between.

"Okay." You gave a thumbs up and looked to Joel. "Want a drink?"

He nodded, "Yeah, sure."

You reached back behind you for his hand and felt that similar electricity from before when he took it.

Up at the bar you flagged down the bartender.

"I'll do a vodka soda and.."

"A Bud Lite," Joel added, reaching into his wallet. Like his habit at the coffee shop, he paid with cash despite your attempts to try to pay for the round.

You looked at one another and without saying a word, you tapped your glasses together and then took a sip from your drinks. Joel hesitantly lifted his mask partway. You felt so bad for his inability to be free.

When another old Halloween song came on by The Dead Kennedys, you pulled Joel with you into a crowd of people who had begun to dance along to the rock music.

The beat was fast and upbeat. Without thinking you shoved Joel playfully with a grin with one hand to his chest and then closed the gap again and began to dance right next to him.

A moment later he was following your lead. He was having fun. You were having fun. The dim lighting in the bar was intersected by strobes of oranges, greens and purples, highlighting your every move.

When Joel really began to relax you could see it in his body language. He was dancing around, grabbing your hand to twirl you and being less cautious about lifting his mask to take a sip from his beer.

The rock music never seemed to let up. You needed a break from dancing as sweat began to make your face glisten. You eyed an old photobooth in the back corner of the bar and reached for Joel's free hand again, towing him with you.

When you pushed your way through a pale, white curtain you pulled him down into a seated position beside you and inserted a five dollar bill into the money slot beneath the camera screen.

With the first 3-2-1 countdown on the screen, you both kept your masks on and you stuck out your tongue. For the second photo, Joel lifted his mask so it sat on the top of his head and he managed a half smile. For picture number three, Jessie came out of nowhere, leaping into the booth for a photobomb and then exiting just as quickly.

You were laughing. Joel was laughing. You were both genuinely enjoying the night. Seconds later, the pictures developed and you took a copy while handing one over to Joel.

He kept his mask up as you pulled him back out into the bar where you resumed dancing. The energy was fiery. You loved every minute of it. More so, you loved seeing Joel at ease and having fun. Prior to recently you had never even seen him smile.

That night, in the freaky, flashing strobe lights, things felt perfect - as perfect as they had felt on the back of Joel's bike a few hours earlier. You knew this was manifesting into one of those nights - the type of night you looked back on that was on the border of magical, at least the type of magical that existed in real life.

It was everything. The music, the lighting, the look on Joel's face as his eyes found yours and never left. You were two giddy children that night and it felt so damn good. Never in a million years did you think you'd be able to get him out of his shell.

A break in the song left the two of you breathing heavy with smiles.

"Want another drink?" He shouted.

"Sure." You smiled, and a ringing stuck in your ears with the brief absence of loud music. The next song quickly picked up and Joel smiled, squeezed your hand and then made his way through the crowd.

"Another round, please," you heard him order.

Your eyes were on him as he stood there by the bar. You still smiled. He was contagious; perhaps the definition of a diamond in the rough. Joel Miller was.. dreamy.

"Hey killer." A voice interrupted your temporary euphoria. It wasn't directed at you. It was directed at Joel. Your daydream was suddenly interrupted when you saw a man approach him as he waited for your drinks. "You're in here dancing and having a good time. Where's Johnny? Hmm?" The guy shoved him now and you ran to Joel's defense.

"Enough!" The bartender scolded but the guy went on.

"You kill a local legend and you think you can just move on?" The guy shouted.

"Stop!" You intervened, standing with Joel as others began to turn in your direction.

"Oh, you even got a girl, that's great," mocked the stranger. "You know what Johnny's girl does on and off every week? She cries. Because you killed him!"

Joel tossed a twenty on the bar, left the drinks and stormed out of the establishment. You chased after him, bursting outside and shouted his name when a car whizzed by and almost hit him on the Main Street road.

"Joel!" You shouted and hurried the rest of the way to him. "Joel, stop!"

"I can't do this!" He shouted, "You just don't get it!"

"I know." You shook your head. "Joel, I'm sorry."

"I'm not your little fucking project," Joel went on.

"I know that, Joel." You shook your head, feeling the first sting of tears in your eyes. "I just.. I like you. I was having fun with you."

"I don't belong here. Not in this town. Not anymore! Nothing is going to change that."

"It's not fair," you went on, "I know-"

"You don't know anything!" He waved his hands wildly to the sides. "You don't know how I feel every single day."

"I know I don't," you agreed, "But I want to be here for you. I want to help you. Be your friend."

"What and relive this shit show of a night almost daily with me?" He made a face and shook his head.

"This night hasn't been a shit show," you argued. "Up until two seconds ago this was one of the enjoyable nights I can remember. It started back at the junk yard and on the bike-"

"Well, I'm glad I could give you a thrill ride," Joel said in a snarky fashion that cut you a little deep.

"Joel.." you shook your head. "I enjoy your company." You extended both of your arms in his direction with your palms up.

He looked at them but distanced himself further back a few steps. "Just.. go back to your normal life and stay away from me."

He scoffed turned away from you, storming off into the darkness as you still held your arms out in front of you. Despite having just formally met him, a single tear left each of your eyes.

"Joel!" You called. "Joel, please.."

He didn't turn back around. It broke off a piece of your heart when he disappeared around the corner of the building without so much as looking back.

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 4

@untamedheart81 @amy172

128 notes · View notes

dwobbitfromtheshire · 10 months

Text

What if the boathouse scene went differently?

A/N: I tend to sexualize this scene too much because I don't want to think how scared they both were. Here's the boathouse scene, but with more emotions.

Steve was scared. He wasn't going to lie himself. The beer bottle was pressed against his throat as Eddie glared menacingly at him. He could also see that he wasn't the only one scared. He recognized the look in Eddie's eyes, the look that says he had seen something he couldn't quite understand. Steve understood that all too well. That fear of the unknown. It's why he did what he did next after dropping the oar.

Steve reached out a hand, and he felt Eddie react instinctively, pushing harder. He could hear them yelling behind him. Steve flipped up his hand and placed a gentle hand around Eddie's, the hand that was holding the bottle. He placed his other hand on Eddie's shoulder.

"It's okay," Steve said softly. "It's okay."

Eddie's face relaxed along with his stance, letting go of the bottle. His face crumpled.

"No, man, it's not," Eddie whimpered.

He collapsed against Steve, sobbing. He buried his face into Steve’s neck. Steve looked over Eddie's shoulder to look at Dustin with wide panicked eyes. Dustin mimed a hug and waved his hands at him. Steve rolled his eyes but wrapped his arms around Eddie and held him close. At least he wasn't holding a bottle to his neck anymore. Steve relaxed his arms and eased into the hug. He moved one of his hands and began stroking the back of his head. He felt a wave of affection and sympathy for the man in his arms. Eddie's whimpers began to slow with each stroke of his hair until it came to a stop. He was still holding onto Steve rather tightly.

Steve motioned at Dustin to give them a minute. He looked like he wanted to argue, but he looked at Eddie again and frowned. Dustin pushed the others out the door and gave Steve a nod on the way out. Steve eased Eddie back and looked at him. His big brown eyes were watery, sad, and full of fear. He could also see a little bit of anger simmering somewhere in there, but it wasn't directed at him. Steve pulled a tissue out of his sleeve.

"Are you a magician?" Eddie asked as they sat on the floor.

"No, I just babysit a bunch of kids," Steve replied, and Eddie took the tissue.

"Dustin was right. You really are like their mom," Eddie said.

"I feel more like a cattle wrangler," Steve said, and Eddie snorted.

"Who apparently cleans up their boogies," Eddie laughed.

"I did that once," Steve muttered, and Eddie laughed.

"I'm sorry about, uh, nearly killing you, and you know, getting snot on your jacket," Eddie said.

"You were scared," Steve said. "And I get it cleaned or get a new one depending on the damage."

"Can't get a new neck," Eddie quipped.

"Tell that to my mother," Steve said, and Eddie laughed, and then he kept laughing. "Eddie. . ."

"I'm not a violent man, Steve, I've never even thrown a punch. I like to act all tough, but the truth is I'm a coward," Eddie said. "So, I really am sorry for doing that, one wrong move, and I could have hurt you, man."

"We do a lot of things and say a lot of things when we're scared that we never thought we ever even imagine we could do. I never thought that I would be able to step up the first time something like this happened. I used to think I was a coward, too, and then I faced something bigger than that: losing someone I was starting to really care about. I grabbed a bat and started swinging with no questions asked," Steve said. "I don't know what happened to you, but I know you saw something."

"You've been through something like this before?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, Hawkins is cursed, man," Steve replied.

"Dustin's been through this too?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah," Steve said.

"Shit," Eddie said and paused, rubbing his hands on his face. "It's hard to believe that Steve Harrington is a genuinely nice guy. I'm glad I was wrong about you. I was super jealous as hell, by the way. I didn't want to believe it."

"About what?" Steve asked.

"Dustin! He doesn't shut up about you," Eddie said. "He hero worships you."

"He does?" Steve asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Eddie said, smiling back at him.

"I was jealous too," Steve said. "He talks about you all of the time. I think he wants us to be friends."

"I think it's working," Eddie said. "I think I would do anything for that kid."

"Me too," Steve said.

Steve locked eyes with him, and there was fondness in there now. Looking at him now with fresh eyes, he suddenly realized how pretty Eddie was with his big eyes and his plump lips. Was he reading his mind? Eddie's cheeks turned pink, and he ducked his head.

"I must be crazy. Chatting with Steve Harrington," Eddie said. "Becoming friends. . .yeah, definitely crazy."

"Oh, you're definitely crazy," Steve said, grinning.

"Asshole," Eddie said with a hint of affection.

"That's all I used to be," Steve said.

"Ah, you weren't so bad," Eddie said. "It was that obnoxious untrained hyena you were friends with. You at least tried to reel him in."

"How do you - ?"

"I noticed," Eddie replied.

"I noticed you too," Steve said.

"Yeah?"

"It's hard not to when you climb on the tables in the cafeteria like they were a stage," Steve grinned. "It was funny when you walked right across Tommy's sandwich."

"Oh, was that Hagen? Oops," Eddie said.

"Oh, like you didn't do that on purpose," Steve said and laughed.

Then they were both laughing, falling again each as they did so until they were on the floor and clutching their stomachs. They lay side by side, staring up at the ceiling.

"Thank you for letting me cry on you," Eddie said.

"You're welcome. When I first went through this, I didn't have anyone to help me afterward. I just stopped being friends with Tommy and Carol. Nancy and I hadn't gotten back together yet. It was just me in my big empty house with a pool Barb Holland died in, and all I wanted to do was to have someone to cry on. Harrington men don't cry, though," Steve scowled.

"Where were your parents?" Eddie asked.

"My dad was away on business all the time, and my mom followed him around to make sure he didn't cheat," Steve said.

"Your dad fucked around on your mom too?" Eddie asked.

Steve looked at him to find that Eddie was also looking at him.

"Assholes," they said together.

Suddenly, the door burst opened, and Dustin appeared above them with his hands on his hips.

"Are you guys sleeping?!" Dustin asked, and they started laughing. "This is a serious situation?!"

Steve stood up and held out his hand, helping Eddie up. He pulled him into a tight hug. Yeah, this was definitely the start of something.

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #pre steddie #dustin henderson

373 notes · View notes

sixofpomegranates · 2 years

Text

☠︎ Tutor ☠︎

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Carver!Fem!Reader

Word count: 13K (it's a long one | That's what she said.)

Summary: Trading tutoring for guitar lessons, Reader’s hopeless crush on the towns freak doesn't seem so hopeless after all.

☞ Picture does not describe the looks of the reader!

A/N: !Body & Skin color Neutral! Reader! IMPORTANT: Jason is also still alive. Reader is Jason's cousin and grew up with Robin as her best friend. They worked together with Steve at Scoops Ahoy.

CW: Smut, Fluff, Angst 18+| Eddie (Bullying/Self-Deprecation/Feeling of not being good enough) It is implied that Eddie has ADHD or is at least in the spectrum, [y/n] (Rich Parents not supporting your dreams/Shady family wealth-white supremacists) Mentions of Vecna/Chrissy/S4/Near-death experience/Scars/Nightmares, Pining, Drugs & use of (Weed), Making-out, Fingering, Penetrative Sex (Virginity/Loss of virginity, Unprotected, Creampie)

Pinning my tutoring flyer on the board in school, I sigh. Another year of tutoring to have more than this couple of peanuts my parents consider my pocket money, I guess.

Fun fact, it's called pocket money because it's little enough to fit in your pockets, even if Dad gives it to you in pennies.

But okay, I want something, I'm eighteen, and I am able to earn the money for it. Sure, my uncle and aunt just bought Jason a new car because our family name's soaked in wealth, and apparently, we think that the price of a dead girlfriend is exactly the same as for an Audi 5000CS Turbo Quattro; but okay...

If anyone in my family would know that the disaster that was March and the giant earthquake were actually a real-life boogie man coming to collect teens; and that there was something the kids I tutored over the last years called 'The Upside Down', I'd get my guitar lessons paid within the blink of an eye...

But Robin, Steve, and Nancy were very clear about why I've got to keep it to myself.

So no hero status or guitar lessons for me, only tutoring either a child that Steve will adopt the second it comes into his five-mile radius or a stupid jock that will try flirting with me every session and stare at my cleavage instead of his books.

Simply not fair.

As somebody reaches past me to grab my flyer, I jump so severely that my headphones fall off my ears, and the smell of marihuana fills my nose.

"Jesus," I mutter, turning to the person behind me and meeting the face of Hawkins's most hated man. Eddie Munson.

March has fucked up everyone; me being particularly jumpy and having my walkman on all the time is actually one of the better outcomes.

Eddie is now hated by most. They couldn't link him to a satanic cult (Just officially named him a freak and loser that likes dungeons and dragons, which seems to be a gateway drug to demon worshipping now...) and with the government and Chief Hopper's help, they also stopped trying to convict him of Chrissy's murder, but the town hates him.

They still believe he has something to do with it, whether proven innocent or not.

How he still makes it through the day, a big smile on his lips, truly baffles me.

"So, you're tutoring?" he asks, not looking up from my flyer. I nod. "Yeah, need the money."

"You only tutor the freshmen or..." "Everyone's welcome," I smile, turning off my music. "Even the full-on, nonconformist metalheads."

Cocking his head, he raises his eyebrows. "You really think you could help me pass chemistry with Kaminsky?"

"Depends." "On what?" I grin. "If you pay for your lessons."

Faking a heartbroken reaction, he giggles. "And that after I saved you from being demobat food. I'm a hero, y'know?"

Shrugging, I pin another flyer on the board. "Well, Munson, what can I say? We are living in a material world, and I am a material girl."

Eddie pulls a face as though he is about to vomit. "Gross, don't Madonna me."

"I Madonna as much as I like to," I laugh, punching his chest gently. "So, chemistry, anything else you'd need help with?"

That is when the bell announces lunch. I watch the metalhead tense up before me but still trying to play it cool.

"Uhm, we can talk about it while having lunch," I offer, but he shakes his head. "Nah, I- They throw stuff at me when I enter the cafeteria, so I'll just relax outside a little," he tells me, still smiling, but his eyes can't hide anything.

He's afraid.

"Yeah, sure," I smile back. "After school?"

The hallway starts to fill with students, and Eddie becomes visibly uneasy. He already begins removing himself from the conversation, turning around only to lift his flyer. "After school," he calls over to me and vanishes in the crowd.

*****

After school, I wait outside for Eddie, having him see me and smile from afar, ditching Dusting and Mike while they're still talking to him and running up to me.

"Hey, Carver," he says teasingly, making me smile. "Hey, Edward."

He nods, knowing he deserves the comeback. "You shall be forgiven."

"Okay, business talk. What classes do you need help with?" I ask, looking around. My parents insist on my cousin driving me home for safety, and I really want to avoid Jason seeing me with Eddie.

"Well, chemistry is currently the biggest problem. Have you heard of Kaminsky's All-or-Nothing Test?" I nod. "That's the one you have to take if you screwed up every other test-" Realization washes over me. "Oh, Eddie."

He smiles at me apologetically, cheeks turning a little pink.

"Why didn't you say something earlier? I- We could've studied together."

He shrugs. "To be fair, I know we were in the Upside Down together and stuff, but I didn't think we'd know each other enough to ask."

True, we don't. I'd only ever seen Eddie from afar in school or at the mall. And before all hell broke loose with Chrissy's death and those bat-things nearly killing him, I'd actually been massively intimidated by him.

He is loud, handsome, and definitely a little crazy; that had been enough to keep me away.

But since the Upside Down... That place and all that comes with it – let's just say it helps you forget your social status and makes you become allies even with the handsomely crazy ones.

"I- I still would've helped you if you'd asked. You have to graduate this year, or else-" He interrupts me. "I know. I just didn't want to be a burden. Like, 'Oh, you killed a bat for me, now I have to study with you.'"

"You're not a burden, Munson," I tell him, looking into his warm, brown eyes.

"Heard different things before, and you only say that because you haven't tried studying with me yet," he grins. "So, how much per lesson?"

"How bout a deal?" I ask him back before all bravery can leave me. Eddie's lips split into a gorgeous but mischievous smile. "Oh, I'm good at dealing."

"I swear if you pull out your lunch-" Before I can end my sentence, he's already pulled out the black metal box containing his drugs.

"Eddie, you're not paying me with drugs," I tell him sternly, forcing him to put the lunchbox back into his backpack.

"It's good stuff," he tries to assure me, but I shake my head, hardly able to bite back a grin. "And I still don't want it."

After a final try at handing me the metal box, he shrugs, putting it away.

"You play guitar, right?" I ask him as if I haven't been part of the most metal concert the Upside Down has ever experienced. "How bought instead of paying me, you teach me? I wanted to take classes with that money anyway."

He blinks at me a couple of times before letting out a loud, excited laugh. "Y-Yeah. Totally. I- I taught it myself, so if I can learn it, you can learn it."

"Cool," I answer. He scratches the back of his head, echoing me, "Cool."

We stare at each other for a moment, somehow not knowing what to say. God, this is awkward, isn't it? Am I making it awkward?

Quickly clearing my throat, I announce, "I'm babysitting Mike and Holly tonight, and the Wheelers always allow me to bring company. So, bring your books, and we'll see how bad the situation actually is."

Eddie smiles, as he almost always does. It is actually quite distracting. "Okay. Uhm, then I meet you there at...?"

"Six," I blurt out, then giggle a little anxious. "Six. Great," he chuckles in reply.

Before either of us can say another word, our attention is drawn to a small group of jocks, Jason being their leader, on their way to us and their cars.

"I'm gonna drive the kids home," Eddie tells me, still smiling as if he could hide the real reason he wants to leave. I grant him the illusion of having fooled me, smiling, "Okay. See you tonight."

I watch him hurry away, get Mike, Lucas, and Dustin – including their bikes – into his van, and drive off. Jason rushes now closer, having seen us from afar. He lays his arm around my shoulder, pulling me uncomfortably close.

Maybe I'd felt safe being protected by him when I was five, but now I only see the always returning, dangerous paranoia in him. The way he brutally beat Lucas, saying he protected Max but left them both behind as the Upside Down ripped through the old Creel house... He isn't the same person he was before Chrissy died anymore.

"Hey, was the freak bothering you?" I struggle out of Jason's hold, walking to his car. "No, he wasn't, and don't call him that."

He opens the car, throwing his backpack into the backseat. "Come one, [y/n]. You know this guy's a satanic cult leader and murderer. Think of what he did to Chrissy."

It always spins back to this. It always becomes religious. Religion, whichever you pick, can be beautiful, but unstable people will always find a way to turn it into a weapon for their insane reasoning.

"He didn't do a thing to Chrissy, and you know it," I tell Jason, hating that I can't just explain everything to him. I honestly don't even think he would believe me. He's too far gone.

"I know what I saw," he insists as we sit in the car, harshly gripping my wrist. "Around him, things happen. Strange things, evil things."

His fixation on Eddie never eased, even after he was proven innocent. Jason believes in everything being the fault of the sweet metalhead, simply because he was in the wrong place, with the wrong person, at the wrong time.

"You need some serious therapy before this whole town joins your bullshit again, and we have a second Salem witch trial on our hands," I snarl at my cousin, ripping my wrist from his grasp.

The more delusional he becomes, the more violent even his slightest actions become.

"I'm just watching out for you," Jason tries to explain, driving out of the school's parking lot. "Do me a favor and don't," I ask of him, looking out of the window.

My conversation-ending tone, however, isn't enough for him. As if he could frighten me with his tough-guy act, he threatens, "Stay away from Munson, or I'm telling your parents."

I nod. "Well, in that case, I'm telling Aunt Iris and Uncle Frank of how you faked a house break-in to hide the aftermath of your School's Out Party '84."

The discussion finally dies. Jason turns on the radio, listening to the religious station he's recently so obsessed with, and I continue staring out the window, watching cars pass us by.

*****

After getting Holly to say goodbye to her parents, I tuck her in and walk into Nancy's bedroom. I sit beside Robin on the bed while Nancy does her makeup at her vanity.

"Hey, Nance? You think you could borrow me your notes for Kaminsky's class?" I ask as she is done putting on mascara.

"Yeah, here," she smiles, handing me her pink folder. "So you're really tutoring tonight instead of going out with us?"

I roll my eyes, laughing. "And I am babysitting, so you can go out."

"And we're very thankful for that," Robin snickers, styling the mane of the little plush zebra on Nancy's bed. "So, who's the poor soul fucking up chemistry?"

"Eddie," I answer, looking at the folder to avoid meeting their eyes.

"Oh, so it's that kind of a study date," Nancy says, and I meet her grin through the mirror.

"What? No. He needs help with Kaminsky's All-or-Nothing Test, and in exchange, he'll teach me how to play guitar," I begin explaining myself, but Robin nudges my arm, rolling on her back.

"Funny, 'cause when Steve needed tutoring, you were very clear about not being into trades, even when he offered you free ice cream."

"She's right," Nancy giggles, agreeing with Robin.

"No, she's not. I worked at Scoops myself, so I didn't need free ice cream. Eddie plays guitar exceptionally well, and I wanted to pay for classes with the money I would've earned. Two birds with one stone."

"And it has nothing to do with you having the hots for Munson?" Robin asks me deadpanned, and I fall silent. I feel my face heat up and shake my head.

Rolling back onto her stomach, Robin smacks my arm. "Oh, come on. [y/n], we grew up together. Journey, Led Zepplin, Dio, Black Sabbath... The phase when we were thirteen, and you were dead set on marrying Eddie Van Halen? How you drooled every time Munson passed Scoops when we were working?"

Nancy laughs loudly, and I shrug, regretting always telling Robin everything, although I know she can't keep secrets for longer than thirty minutes.

"So... I may have a type. That doesn't mean I have the hots for Eddie," I blatantly lie, Robin raising her eyebrows and grinning at me. "Which Eddie? Ours or Van Halen?"

"Fuck you," I cuss, making her only hug me and laugh at the fact that I never really curse.

Knocking on the door, Steve comes in, scanning Nancy up and down. "Hey, are you ready to leave? Mike is talking to El on the phone, and I'm getting really bored alone downstairs."

She nods, and so we all make our way downstairs. I send Mike to his room, telling him to call Eleven from the phone upstairs and walk to the front door with my friends.

Steve opens the door, almost bumping into Eddie, who was about to knock. "Munson," Steve says, surprised. "Harrington," Eddie replies, also greeting the other two. "Robin, Nancy."

His eyes fall on me, and I smile, "Hey. You got your books?" He nods, lifting his black backpack. I step aside, letting him in, "The living room's to the left. I'll be there in a second."

As Eddie can't hear us anymore, Robin grins, wiggling her eyebrows.

I ignore her. "Bye, guys. Have fun." "You too. Do nothing I wouldn't do," she cackles. I raise a brow as she hugs me. "Do I need to remind you that you're gay?"

Sticking her tongue out at me, she drags Steve to the car, Nancy already warming it up.

"Isn't Eddie coming with us?" he asks, confused, Robin wiggling her eyebrows again. "He and [y/n] are having a study date."

Steve's mom-mode kicks in the second he hears that. "Should we stay and help them study?" "Go to the movies," I insist. "Please, I can't work with you eyeing us down."

"You're staying in the living room and do nothing any of us would do. Except for Nancy. You can do what Nancy does," Steve tells me sternly.

I raise my eyebrows. "So, I'm allowed to have a shotgun and shoot Vecna?"

"No?" he asked me as though I'm completely nuts. "You can study. Nothing else."

"Yeah, no dirty couch sex," Robing calls over, making Nancy look mortified. "Robin," she exclaims, then looks at me with a pleading gaze, "Please don't have sex on my couch."

"I hate all three of you," I tell them, closing the front door just in time to hear Robin call after me, "Nah, you love us."

Shaking my head, I return to the living room, where Eddie is busy walking and looking around.

As he notices me, he grins. "I like this place." I smile back. "Yeah, the Wheelers have good taste."

Stretching his arms out, he spins slowly in the living room. "It's so big. I mean, look at this. All of this is the living room, and nobody sleeps here."

"Your uncle sleeps on the couch?" I ask without thinking, quickly regretting my question.

Eddie's cheeks become red, and he stops what he's doing. "Folding bed, but it's a good one..." he tries assuring me, voice falling flat with embarrassment.

I smile at him, sitting down on the carpet and unpacking my study materials on the coffee table. Grabbing his hand, I make Eddie sit beside me and hand him Nancy's pink folder.

"Y-You have a pretty handwriting," he compliments me while flipping through it. "Oh, those are Nancy's notes. She's so anal about them," I tell him, handing him some of my notes for comparison. "That's mine. Not that clean."

After staring at them for a few seconds, he looks at me. "Huh. Like yours better."

"Charmer," I say, my face becoming hot again. To distract, I hand Eddie my chemistry book. "Here."

"What are we doing?" Eddie asks as I hand him a bunch of sticky notes.

"We're transferring my notes into your book. I like to use those to write down simplifications, extra notes, and explanations, and then I stick them on my pages. I also color-coordinate the highlighter I use with the color of my sticky notes. I believe it's more comfortable to learn if it's easier on the eyes..."

Feeling Eddie stare at me, I stop talking, look back at him, and ask, "What?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "Nothing, just... thanks."

*****

"Wrong again. Maybe we should focus on-" After hours, I finally feel my patience running thin. "Eddie?"

"Huh?" He asks as though he hasn't been staring at me for the last five minutes.

Fuck, am I so boring that he starts zoning out?

"I was talking to you. I- Can you please try to concentrate?" I ask him, smiling, trying not to sound offended.

He nods, stretching a little before leaning over our books again. "Totally. Yeah. Sure. Sorry."

As he answers the question wrong again, a deep frown appears on his face. I sigh, putting my pen down. "Okay. How bout a break? I'll need to get Mike to go to bed anyway."

He nods, almost relieved, and I make my way upstairs. After some debating and a non-verbal threat, I take the phone out of Mike's room, and it's lights out as his parents requested. I know he'll still stay up some hours reading his comics, but I'm willing to let that slip.

When I come back into the living room, Eddie's gone. Instead, he sits outside on the porch, smoking.

"Hey, is that marihuana?" Of course, it is. He smiles at me charmingly. "It's just a little pot to help me concentrate," he says as if I wasn't about to jump his throat.

A wave of anger rushes over me. "Are you even taking the whole thing seriously? I mean, I've been sitting in there for three and a half hours, trying to teach you something, and the first chance you get, you run outside to get high."

I walk back inside, starting to pack my stuff. I apparently thought too highly of Eddie due to my years of crushing on him. I should've known he wasn't taking it seriously, but I just made a fool out of myself.

I hear fast footsteps behind me. "Hey, hey, [y/n]. Look, I'm sorry. I really just smoked some to concentrate." I turn around, and Eddie steps closer, pleading, "[y/n], please. I have no reason to lie to you. I promise I want to learn."

"Didn't seem like it," I murmur, and he nods.

"I- I know. It's- I struggle to focus, always have. If something isn't interesting enough, my brain just shuts off and then does silly little things it finds more interesting – like counting the little daisies on your top."

We both look down on my shirt and then at each other.

"Please, let's try it again. I swear, no more drugs, and you get me on my best behavior," he asks of me, giving me this distracting big smile again while he cups my cheeks.

"Okay," I nod, without even thinking twice. "Okay?" I nod again. "Okay, Munson. Sit down."

We sit back down, and for the next minutes, I could swear he tries really hard. But as we start working on a practicing sheet with many questions on it, his concentration seems to crumble again.

"I- I'm sorry. I think I mixed the questions up," Eddie mumbles, angry at himself.

"You always keep looking down on the next question while solving the one above," I observe, and he nods. I hand him an empty piece of paper. "Here, try that."

He holds it up, confused. "A piece of paper?" I take it, laying it over his worksheet. "As a divider. We cover the next questions, so you can't look at them."

From here on out, it actually seems to work. Yet, I yawn, exhausted from the hours of work before.

"I'm hopeless, aren't I?" Eddie asks, grinning at me. "No. I'm just tired," I answer. "You're actually doing well."

His grin becomes wider. "I so do not believe you." He gives me a gentle shove, making me giggle, "I'm serious. Especially now that we stopped you from mixing up the questions."

"Do you think I'll pass the test?" This time Eddie seems more serious; there is no smile on his face that would indicate that he has any hopes for it. "If you study enough... I mean, Kaminsky's tests are super hard, but like, I'll help you as much as you need me to."

"Nice way to say that I'm fucked, Sweetheart," he coos, hand moving up to my face again. His cold rings burn on my hot cheeks. "You have to study for your own finals. I can't have you hold my hand through my own mess."

"Eddie, I have my studies down and don't mind helping you," I tell him, although I'd rather whine as he removes his hand. I wish he would've left it there.

"Hey, you know what my mom made me do whenever I wanted to achieve something?" I ask him, taking one of Holly's green sheets of crafting paper and folding it in half. "Goal cards. Write down the reason you want to graduate."

"The reason? I'd say because I'm twenty and can't repeat class again?" He deadpans, making me shake my head.

"Not like that. I meant the hopes you have." Licking my lips, I admit, "Like, when I was thirteen, I made one, saying I wanted to learn how to play guitar. Inside I wrote that I was doing it to become a famous musician and marry Eddie Van Halen. Even glued a picture of him in it."

Eddie is quiet for a moment, then bursts into laughter. I shove him. "Stop laughing. I'm trying to help you here."

He nods, whipping away some tears, "Uh-huh." "Fuck you," I tell him in fake appall.

Eddie collects himself, shoving me back and mocking me, "Oh, such big words from such a proper little lady."

As calmness returns to the room, he grabs his pen and the card, opening it. He stares at it for a while, pen ever so often pushing onto the paper, but no words come out.

"Do I have to write it down?" he asks me, a little defeated, this time without a smile. "If you want, you can tell me, and I'll write it down for you," I offer, and he hands it over to me.

Eddie is silent for a while, caught in deep thoughts. Suddenly he says, "I- I want to graduate, so I'm not ending up like my dad."

I look up at him, not yet writing. He continues to explain himself, "He dropped out, married his high school sweetheart, and just barely got by with petty crimes or – you know – selling drugs and stealing cars. Then mom died, and he just spiraled, became violent..."

As his voice loses its strength, I ask, "Where's he now?"

Eddie shrugs. "Does it matter? Prison? Maybe dead?" he says. "Uncle Wayne took me in after CPS contacted him about my dad breaking my arm when he was high... He told his younger brother to fuck off, and we haven't heard from him since."

We're quiet. I don't know what to say. I can't even remember his parents. I only know the version of Eddie that he is now.

"I changed my mind," he then says, tapping on his goal card. "Write that I wanna be a better nephew to Wayne... Don't wanna be a burden anymore, a fuck-up."

I shake my head. "Eddie, you're not a burden. Your uncle loves you."

He nods. "And I only disappoint him. I can't even fucking finish high school. I sit in my room all day, preparing for my D&D campaigns or playing guitar. I sell drugs to assholes that love beating the crap out of me for being a freak, and now I am also a satanic cult leader with demonic powers that murdered Chrissy and two other guys I didn't even know... Yeah, [y/n]. I totally don't sound like a burden."

I'm shocked at how low Eddie seems to actually think of himself. Behind this always smiling and joking façade, there seem to hide years of self-hatred and a, probably trained by his father and the school system, thought of being a worthless burden.

"You took in freshmen, nerdy little kids that don't fit in. You let them be part of your club so they wouldn't have to be alone or get bullied," I argue, having him shrug. "Somebody had to. People can be real assholes."

"You saved Hawkins." "Not like I can tell anyone about it."

I smile a little, "Well, you also saved me from those bats, almost getting killed while trying." "Matter, of course. Everyone would've done that."

I shake my head, "No, they wouldn't, and you know it. Jason didn't care for Lucas or Max, even though he claimed to have beaten Lucas to protect her. He just pissed himself, ran away, and saved his own ass."

Eddie gives me a half-hearted smile and lays his hand on mine, patting it several times. I close the cart and hand it to him. "How about you keep your goal card and write something inside it once it feels right, okay?"

He nods, putting it between the pages of his book where I think it will get forgotten. Then he opens the book on one of the other chapters, pointing at something.

"Can we go over that E cell stuff again?" He asks, clearly wanting to change the subject. I nod. He's been open enough for one evening. "Sure."

After learning for another hour, I fall asleep, face on the coffee table. When I wake up, Eddie is gone, only his leather jacket draped over me like a blanket. In my book, I find a small note asking me to study with him at his place on Friday.

*****

"You call me, and I'll pick you up; my number's on the back," Jason lectures me as he holds his car in front of the Munson trailer, handing me one of the phones from his duffle bag. "I'm meeting with friends, but should you need anything-"

"Don't sell your soul to the devil, and please call me. Yeah, I know," I interrupt him, eying the mobile phone in my hand. "Those things are starting to become really small, or am I crazy?"

He sighs, hating that I am going to spend the day in the trailer his girlfriend died in, with the guy who was the last to have seen her alive.

"Seriously, [y/n]. The minute he tries something, or you realize you're in a circle of blood with strange symbols drawn around it-" "Yeah, because that happens so casually often," I interrupt my cousin again.

"This is about your safety," he tells me as though I am unreasonable. "No, this is about you being paranoid and needing therapy," I answer, grabbing my bag and getting out of the car. "Thanks for driving me. See ya later."

I walk over to the trailer, knocking a couple of times. After a few seconds, Wayne Munson, Eddie's uncle, opens the door.

"Yeah?" he asks, holding a baseball bat behind his back. A safety precaution, I understand but disklike that he has to have.

"Hi, Mr. Munson. I'm here to see Eddie." He eyes me up and down, and I add, "I'm his friend. I help him study."

He looks over my shoulder, nodding to Jason's car with his chin. "And your friend in the car? That's Jason Carver, that little bastard," he says, highly suspicious of me.

"He's my cousin. My parents want him to drive me around since the earthquake," I explain, and his face becomes softer. "I'm sorry, Kid. I-"

I interrupt him with a smile. I understand why he has to be protective of Eddie after all that happened. "No, don't worry. I'm not crazy about that mental case either," I say. "Uhm, can I come in? I'm afraid he might get out of the car if we stay out here for too long."

Wayne lets me in, closing and locking the door behind me. From Eddie's room comes the sound of an acoustic guitar playing 'Sweet Leaf', one of my favorite songs.

"Eddie, your friend is here," he calls down the small hallway. I join him, calling, "Hi, Eddie."

We hear some rummaging and cussing, then Eddie practically rushes out of his room, only wearing his boxers.

"Hey, [y/n]," he greets me as I instantly look the other way, feeling my face burn like fire.

"Son, put some damn close on. You're in the presents of a lady, for God's sake," his uncle scolds him, and after a millisecond, Eddie cusses like a sailor.

"Shit, fuck. Sorry, I just woke up. I- It'll only be a second," he tells me, and from the bumping sound, I figure he almost ran into his bedroom door.

"Uh-huh. Take your time," I tell him, finally looking in his direction again as the door closes.

"Now, [y/n], can I offer you something to drink?" Wayne asks me, and I shake my head. "No, thanks. I'm good," I tell him, looking around the living area I know pretty well in both this dimension and whatever the Upside Down is.

It is scary to think that the portal simply closed, not leaving an ounce of trace that it ever even existed.

My eyes fall to the folding bed, open in the middle of the room. Eddie's uncle rushes over, taking the blanket and pillow and putting them inside the couch's storage department.

"Sorry, he didn't tell me he'd expected someone," he explains, embarrassed, folding away his bed. I smile at him, shaking my head. "Don't worry. Really."

The awkward silence is broken by Eddie coming out dressed in black, ripped jeans and a washed-out band shirt.

"Hey, hi," he greets me again. "Hi," I answer.

"I- I made the study cards you told me to," he explains proudly, and I grin. "Do they work?" "I think so. C'mon."

With his hand on my back, he escorts me to his room, signaling me to sit down on his bed. I, instead, only put my bag there and look around his room. In bright daylight and without the risk of dying or Robin screaming that we need music to save Nancy, it's actually nice in here.

It helps that it's also cleaner than last time and smells like air freshener and fresh linen.

"Edward, the door stays open," Wayne calls into the room, just as I pass a pile of clothes next to his closet, to look at the small, hand-painted figures that I think belong to his dungeons and dragons game.

I turn around, looking at Eddie. "So, the door stays open," I tease him jokingly, and he nods, becoming red while scratching the back of his curly head.

"Yeah. When something happens again, Wayne can give me an alibi saying he saw you the whole time during your visit and that you were okay."

My smile instantly vanishes, and I begin to apologize, "Oh, right. Sorry, I didn't think of that. I thought it was because-" "Because I'm having a pretty girl in my room?" he asks, tilting his head and stepping closer.

My breath hitches as he backs me up closer to the wall; I bump into the dresser behind me. "Naughty girl," he whispers with a mischievous grin as he cages me between his arms and his dresser.

I shake my head, becoming dizzy, "I- I- I didn't-" He chuckles, "I'm just teasing you, Carver. Calm down."

I am almost disappointed as he steps away, truly having only teased me. I turn my back to him before he can see the look on my face, but my gaze meets a mirror, showing me my pout.

Silly. It's silly that I'm sad he wasn't actually flirting with me. I focus on the guitar hanging in front of the mirror. Sweetheart, that's what Eddie calls the guitar. I begin chewing on my bottom lip, telling myself that I don't need this metalhead to like me back.

It would be too difficult anyway. Especially in fucked up times like these, where we don't know when Vecna returns.

Doesn't make me want Eddie any less, though...

"You like her?" Eddie asks behind me. I nod, suddenly feeling his hand on my shoulder, moving me back to the bed. "Well, not gonna let you touch her just yet. You need to learn acoustic first."

As I sit down on his bed, Eddie takes the black acoustic guitar full of band stickers that was leaning next to it and kneels down in front of me, showing it to me.

"This is Honey. She was my first guitar, first love, if you will," he chuckles. "She's pretty," I whisper. Eddie nods, "Glad you think so, 'cause she's yours now."

"What?" I exclaim, making him laugh. "Don't look so shocked," he says. "You need a guitar to practice on."

"But she's yours." He nods again, laying the guitar on my lap. "And she's been painfully neglected for years now, especially since I bought Sweetheart. Now take her and be good to her."

"Thank you," I whisper, following the outline of an old Metallica sticker.

As I look up, mine and Eddie's eyes meet. He'd been watching me closely. We grin at each other a little stupidly, and I feel my heart race like it's trying to win a marathon.

"I made you something," he says suddenly, jumping up and grabbing a bunch of small cards from one of his drawers. "Those are the different chords and where you have to put your fingers."

On the cards are drawn guitars necks, dots on the exact spots where my fingers need to be. "These are awesome, Eddie. And you really made those cards for me?"

He nods, cheeks turning pink, "We have a deal, after all. And if I teach you how to play guitar, I damn well will make sure you're becoming a real star at it."

I put the guitar aside and take his jacket out of my backpack, awkwardly and completely flustered, handing it to him. "You forgot your jacket at the Wheelers' home a couple of days ago."

"I didn't want you to freeze," he says, throwing it aside. "Why did you leave?"

"Because I know the reaction people have when they see me. I didn't want Mike's parents to think I was there to sacrifice their kids or have them be mad at you for letting me in."

I bite my lips again. "I wish you would've stayed. We could've gone home together." "I could've driven you home..." he smiles for a second before it vanishes again. "But people know my van, can't have you be seen with me."

Before I can stop myself, I say, "I don't mind being seen with you, Eddie."

He stares at me, touched, chocolate brown eyes becoming glassy, "T-That's a C. You think you can play it?" he quickly asks, swallowing hard and handing me one of the cards as a distraction.

I take the guitar but struggle with my finger placement. Eddie notices it and crawls behind me on the neatly made bed.

Hands on my waist, he makes me sit between his legs and helps me hold the guitar correctly. "Is that okay?" he asks, looking at me over my shoulder.

I nod, and he takes my fingers, placing them on the strings. As they are placed, he hands me a pick and helps me play that note. It sounds correct, and I smile at him. Eddie smiles back at me as though I just performed a concert for him.

"There you go, rockstar," he chuckles, placing my fingers differently again.

For a while, we play the chords, and I become more and more comfortable with his arms around me. It feels nice. Safe and calm.

We're both ripped from the moment as Wayne knocks on the open bedroom door. "Hey, you two. I'm going to work. Can I leave you both alone?"

Eddie nods, barely acknowledging his uncle. "Uh-huh."

"Eddie, are you sure-"

This time he looks up, interrupting his uncle, "Yes, Wayne. We're just playing guitar and studying a little. I promise nothing shady will happen." Eddie looks at me, "Right?"

I nod, assuring his uncle, "Oh, yeah. Absolutely not. I'm also getting picked up later."

The man nods, hand running over his head. "Okay. I- I'm just worried."

"I know," Eddie tells him, this time seeming to accept and understand his uncle's worries. They share a serious look that shows concern and affection.

Then Eddie smiles again, pointing at the polaroid camera on his dresser, "Hey, can you take a picture of us?" He asks, having his uncle nod. "Sure, son."

"That's okay for you, is it?" Eddie whispers into my ear, making goosebumps appear on my skin. I grin, nodding lovesick.

After taking a picture of us, me seated between Eddie's legs, the guitar in our hands, Wayne hands the picture to his nephew, wishing us goodbye, "It was nice to meet you, [y/n]. See you in the morning, kid."

"Oh, I'm gonna keep that one," Eddie whispers delightedly, looking at the picture.

I put the guitar aside, trying to look at the polaroid. "Why?"

"No reason," he tells me, standing up. I follow him, "Why, Eddie?"

"Because you look cute in it," he says, but this isn't enough for me.

I try to grab the picture, but he holds it up. Therefore, I stand as close to him as possible, standing on the tip of my toes to reach it.

Eddie wraps an arm around my waist, starting to spin us around. "Care for a dance, milady?

"You're so weird," I giggle, unable to reach the picture, but holding on to his wrist.

"Oh, Sweetheart, I'm completely insane," he tells me, stopping our spinning. "Now sit down and tutor me."

He softly pushes me back on the bed, and I make myself comfortable, looking at my own study cards while Eddie sits down next to me, going through his own. I have no idea where the polaroid picture went, but I sure hope I don't look ridiculous in it.

After two hours of learning together, Eddie lies back, staring at the ceiling. "I need a break."

I put the guitar aside and join him. "Same. My fingers are killing me."

"Yeah... Takes some time till you build up calluses," he chuckles, taking my hand into his, gently kissing my sore fingertips and stealing my breath. "Pretty soon, your pretty lil fingers will look like mine."

I don't know how he does it, but Eddie makes my heart beat so fast I feel like becoming dizzy; he always had me wrapped around his finger in that way, even as I only knew him from afar.

He's everything that my parents taught me to avoid, but I want to admire him forever.

"So you think I'll pass the test?" He asks me with a crooked smile, luring me back into reality. "Hm... I'd say I'm 99.9% sure," I smile, making him nod bothered as he lets go of my hand.

"Yeah, still room for me to fail." I prob myself up on my elbows, assuring him, "Well, I believe you'll make it."

A grin creeps over his features, making me certain that mischief is brewing together a plan under his curly mop of hair. "Would you be mad at me if I'd smoke one as a reward?"

I shake my head, and he sits up, grabbing a pre-rolled joint from his cluttered nightstand. "Do you want to...?" He offers, lighting it and taking a hit.

I shrug, uncertain since I've never done something like it before. "Uh... I- I don't know."

He looks at me with a serious face. "Hey, I'm not somebody that's pressuring others into things. I just thought... Would you want to try it? Now would be your chance, and it's safest to get high for the first time when there's somebody with you who has experience and watches over you."

I sit up as well, nodding. It isn't like I never wanted to try it.

"You sure?" He asks sternly, trying to avoid a reaction of mine that is solely based on the need to impress him.

I nod again. "Yes. Please."

Eddie leans over, holding the joint's butt to me. I lean forward, lips on the joint, taking my first pull; his eyes are on me, face as close as possible to inspect me.

"There you go. Small hits, baby," he coos his instructions. "Hold it, and now let go," I do as he says, coughing a little due to the smoke in my lungs. "Burns a little, I know."

It is hard not to stare as we lock eyes, his chocolate brown ones metaphorically bringing me to my knees. He has me smoke half of the joint, and as stupid as I feel for thinking like that, it feels intimate.

The way his big hands bring the joint back and forth between us, the gentle way he coos and praises me, and his eyes, his eyes are on me, so fascinated and intrigued as though I am one of the dirty magazines he unsuccessfully tried to hide under the bed.

I love that gaze of his and want to find a way to make it stay, although I probably just over-romanticize it because of the pot and my crush on Eddie.

As he puts the joint's end into the ashtray on his nightstands, I let myself fall back onto his mattress. "This feels nice," I say, feeling wholly carefree and peaceful for the first time since Vecna.

Eddie lies down beside me, explaining, "Yeah, it's the good stuff. Knocks us out for a while, perfect for relaxing."

We lay on our sides, facing each other. As he reaches out and brushes his knuckles over my cheek, I notice some ink on the back of his hand. I take it and read, 'Clean bedroom. [y/n].' on it.

I like my name on his skin; a weird thing to feel, but it fills me with a bit of pride.

"You forgot that," I tease him, pointing at the to-do list on the back of his hands. He chuckles, "Baby, I wasn't in school so that I could clean up."

I sit up, looking around. Then I giggle. "Okay..." "Hey," Eddie warns me in fake appall. "I even changed the sheets today."

I'd noticed the sweet, floral smell of the linen under me earlier, so I nod. "I appreciate the effort," I tell him, laying back down and kicking off my shoes.

"Where will life take you after graduation, Carver?" He asked as I make myself comfortable on his mismatched set of pillows.

"Where will it take you?" I ask back, but he quickly dismisses my question. "We both know I'll stay trailer trash, now answer me."

I sigh, saying my secret plan out loud for the first time, "I'll take the trust fund I'll gain access to once I have my diploma and run."

He furrows his brows. "So you'll leave us?"

"I meant that metaphorically," I say, making him look confused. "My family had different funds set up for me when I was born. One for high school graduation, one for college, one for marrying, and one for when I have children – a son, to be specific..." I explain.

"That sounds like a very thought-through version of manipulation," Eddie concludes, angered, seeming disgusted by my family's forced conforming.

"It is. I grew up thinking that I have to achieve all these set goals, but now..." Another sigh escapes me. "We don't know when Vecna will return, and every fight becomes more dangerous. I don't want to go to college and become a rich, famous, whatever. I don't want to play happy housewife for an upper-class jock my parents pick for me.

"If I die, I want to be able to look back and know I chose my happiness instead of social obligation."

My whole life, I'd been the perfect, preppy, old-money daughter my family had wanted. I exceeded in school, never went to parties, and stayed away from 'bad apples'. But I'd almost died, and as the weeks had passed, I came to realize that I would've left a life of unfulfilled dreams behind. One I'd only lived to make my parents proud.

"You thought about that a lot, huh?" I nod. "Ever since the bats attacked us."

My hand wanders over Eddie's stomach, resting on a spot I know is now holding a serious scar. He'd gotten it while protecting me from the bats as I'd tried to lure them from the trailer.

"Does it still hurt?" "Only sometimes. At least I have some very metal scars now," he jokes, hand coming up to my thigh.

Under my clothes, I hide some scars as well. It's not like I am ashamed of them. Why should I be? But they need to heal and fade enough to stop looking like bites first – as my family believes they come from an accident caused by the earthquake.

"What about yours?" Eddie asks, and I nod. "Same here. Do you sometimes dream of the Upside Down?"

"Aren't we all?" he chuckles, pushing down the trauma we all experienced. "It took me a while to even realize that all that actually happened, and when the wounds stopped hurting..."

"It'll get easier," I assure him as his arm moves up to my waist—another spot where a scar rests. I'm surprised he still remembers all of the spots.

"Right, wasn't your first rodeo," he remembers. "So, what are you doing with the money? Your trust fund, I mean."

I grin, biting my bottom lip, "You know the retail park between Hawkins and Derry?" "Who doesn't?" he laughs. "I wanna rent a space there and have my own music store. Sell instruments, cassette tapes, records... All of it."

Eddie's eyes become wide, sparkly. I seem to have piqued his interest. "Sounds amazing." "You think?" I ask, and he nods. "Totally. We'll always have music, so you'll always have a job there."

Either his reaction, his touch, or the pot – maybe all three of the things combined – have me smile. I prop myself on my elbow, hand dancing over the letters of his old Black Sabbath shirt.

"If you're not too set on becoming trailer trash..." I start, feeling his heartbeat under my fingers. "I could always use a good business partner who loves music."

"Be careful with those words, Sweetheart," Eddie warns me, propping himself up as well. "'Cause if you mean them, you'll never, never, ever get rid of me."

As he begins towering over me, I whisper, "Sounds good to me."

And just like that, his lips collide with mine. I feel like bursting into flames, like I am losing my mind, and as though I only imagine this moment. I let myself fall back into the pillows, taking Eddie with me as he crawls on top of me.

The kiss is heated and longing. Eddie's hand cradles my face, wanders upwards, and his fingers tangle themselves into my hair. I gasp into the kiss as he tugs on my hair, my hips jolting up due to the literal electricity he created within me.

Suddenly the kiss stops. Eddie sits back up on his heels and looks as though he just violated me. "I- I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you. That wasn't okay. You're high, you're-"

I sit up as well, embarrassment almost making me dizzy as I admit, "That had nothing to do with me being high. Did- Did you just do it because...?"

He shakes his head so harshly that I fear he'd give himself whiplash. "Was looking for a chance to do that for a while now."

I can't believe his words, asking, "Really?"

Eddie nods, looking me up and down as he licks his lips, "Jesus, you're so fucking pretty. Makes me dizzy."

We giggle and smile at each other childishly. I'd never thought he'd be interested in someone like me. I'm not an innocent, happy-go-lucky, preppy cheerleader like Chrissy was. I'm not a cool, not caring what people think of me – metalhead like him.

I am basic, normal. I go to school and do my homework, I listen to all types of music, mostly not even caring for genres since I mix through them all the time anyway, and I dress uncoordinated, solely based on what makes me happy that morning.

I've always thought I was invisible, one of the nice girls you see for five minutes in a movie and have totally forgotten about by the time the credits come on. This had given me some advantages as we saved Hawkins but socially made me feel out of place...

Eddie leans closer again, making me back onto the pillows, his knee between my legs. "That okay?" he asks softly, and I nod.

He towers over me, making my heart beat irrationally. He's so beautiful, and the fact that he wants me has me forget everything, even my name. I push myself up, cupping his cheeks; our eyes lock as he looks just as surprised and overwhelmed about all this as I am.

This time, I kiss him. His lips are soft and gentle as he kisses me back, hands carefully roaming my body as though I'm made of glass. I kissed a few guys before, but none of them had ever made me feel like this.

It feels so right. Like I was made to be in Eddie's arms, being accepted although coming with nothing else to offer than myself.

As our kiss becomes messy, something I've never experienced before, our hands become greedy and inquisitive. As my nails dig into his upper arms, Eddie's hand cups my clothed breast, groping it harshly.

As I moan into the kiss, he chuckles, kissing down my neck and plastering its skin with hickeys and soft love bites.

I moan again, hips jolting up and causing me to whimper as I accidentally rub my most sensitive area against his thigh. "Fuck," I softly cry, repeating the motion once more.

Pecking my lips softly, Eddie places himself now entirely between my legs. I can feel his erection through our clothes, right where I want him most.

"Nice, huh?" he asks teasingly, rolling his hips against me and enjoying how my eyes roll back.

Our lips find each other again, and while we sloppily begin making out again, our bodies move in unison, friction having us moan and gasp into our kisses.

As his hand sneaks under my shirt, cool rings kissing the warmth of my body, I stop Eddie. Propping myself up a little, I stammer, embarrassed, "Can we just- I don't- I never..."

I've never done anything like this before. Before today, I never kissed somebody with this much passion, never let one touch me like this. I've never felt this need, lighting my body on fire, before... And it scares me. I am not sure if I want to go any further than this.

Eddie smiles and softly chuckles. He leans down, kissing my cheek. "No worries. Rule one of being high is not to make big decisions when high. Have two tattoos proofing that point."

Somehow, I expected him to be mad at me.

"So you're okay with just kissing?" I ask, concerned, but he drops onto his elbows, forehead against mine. "I could do that for a lifetime."

Turning on some music, which plays softly in the background, we fall into another kiss, and another, and another. At one point, Eddie even has me sitting in his lap, hands groping my ass as he bucks his hips against me.

Only as our lips are sore, we cuddle on his bed, lips still coming together for little kisses from time to time.

I fall asleep in his arms, feeling safe and happy; I dream of this moment lasting forever.

*****

The next time I open my eyes, it is dark around me. I hate being in the dark, I become nervous and scared. Time has shown me over and over again why I should stay away from the darkness, but Eddie's chest, slowly rising underneath me and his arm around me, have me calm.

Closing my eyes again, I try to go back to sleep.

"She was supposed to be home hours ago, old man!" An angry voice yells outside the trailer.

"Listen, I am sure there is an explanation-" an older voice tries to communicate calmly but is interrupted.

"I don't give a shit about your excuses. You and that satanic scumbag-"

The older raises his voice warningly, "Hey, be careful what you're saying."

Eddie moves underneath me, laying on his side and pulling me into a hug. Suddenly he jumps up, turning on the lights. "Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit."

"What is it?" I ask sleep-drunkenly. "We fell asleep, Sweetheart. It's 5 a.m.," he explains loud but softly.

I jump out of bed the second my brain processes his words. "No!" I exclaim, looking at the radio alarm on Eddie's nightstand. I pull on my shoes, Eddie throwing over his jacket.

"[y/n]! [y/n], are you in there?" The angry voice from before yells, and I have a realization. "Fuck, that's Jason," I tell Eddie, who nods, handing me my backpack.

We rush outside and see Jason and his friends in front of the trailer. Wayne stands there on the steps, a baseball bat in his hand. They're all looking at Eddie and me.

I look back and forth between Wayne and Jason. "I- I'm so sorry. We fell asleep, I-" "I called you a hundred times," Jason interrupts.

I push past Wayne, walking down the steps. Eddie's uncle keeps him in the trailer, not letting him out.

"I just told you I fell asleep," I answer my cousin as he walks closer, looking at my disheveled appearance, then at Eddie's.

"What have you done to her, Munson?" Jason growls, and I step between him and the stairs. "He did nothing. What's wrong with you?"

He's clearly drunk and out for confrontation with his favorite victim.

"Fuck, you smell like a distillery," I mutter, having to look away to catch a huff of fresh air.

"We're leaving. Wait till Aunt-" my cousin tries to threaten me, grabbing my arm and walking us to the car. I shake my head, interrupting him. "You're drunk. I'm not letting you drive me."

As I try to pull my arm from his grasp, he hardens his grip. "[y/n]," he warns, trying to drag me to the car. "No," I exclaim, trying to stop walking, but Jason becomes rougher. "Ow."

"Hey, don't grab her like that," Eddie calls over, forcing himself past his uncle.

"Or what, Freak? What satanic monster from hell do you want to summon here in front of everyone?" Jason asks, irritated, fumbling his keys out of his pocket, a little cross keychain on it.

By now, half of the trailer park residents have noticed what is happening. All looking, nobody intervening.

"Man, just- just let go of her arm," Eddie tries to reason with Jason. "Please, you're hurting her."

As he takes a couple of steps closer, my cousin raises his keychain. "Don't come near us."

"Eddie, it's okay," I tell the sweet metalhead, then look to his uncle, who has his baseball bat equipped. "It's okay."

"Are you sure, girl?" Wayne asks me, concerned, but I nod.

"Yeah. I..." I finally can escape Jason's grasp and look at him and his friends. "Is anyone of you guys sober?" None are, so I sigh, "Kay. Give me your keys and get into the car."

Jason obliges since me driving the car means he gets what he wants, and I leave with him. I have the drunken jocks get back into the car, noticing that one had held a wheel-wrench the entire time.

I buckle Jason in the passenger's seat, make sure his friends buckle in as well and grab the wrench. Shaking my head, I look over at Eddie and his uncle, waving at them and trying to force a smile on my lips as I got into the driver's seat.

Leaving the trailer park, the drunks in the back fall promptly asleep, while Jason seems to calm down, experiencing an adrenaline crash. He tells me the addresses of his friends, and I drive everyone home.

"I was worried," he explains, head heavily resting on the headrest of his seat.

"I know," I sigh, having just dropped off the last one of his friends.

"I miss Chrissy," he mumbles, and I watch him take out the little velvet box he carries around everywhere. "I thought we would be together forever."

Jason had planned on proposing to his high school sweetheart after graduation. Chrissy was dead for months now, but he still carried the ring around.

I look at the broken shell of a man beside me. Jason had lost his mind when he'd lost his girlfriend. Our family believes he just needs time, but he desperately needs therapy.

He wasn't always like this; he was a good guy; we grew up like siblings – Yeah, sure, he was a little douchey sometimes, but he was the guy nice to mostly everyone—a preppy, old-money boy.

His moral compass hadn't been broken before he came into contact with Vecna's darkness.

"Eddie didn't hurt Chrissy," I tell him, but he looks at me with tears in his eyes. "I know what I saw."

I can't tell him about the Upside Down, which makes me helpless. I have to sit between the chairs, see Eddie being hated, and watch my cousin lose his sanity, and there is nothing I can do about it.

"Look," I start, carefully thinking of how to phrase my sentences, "I know what you saw. I know how it looked like and how much it scared you, but Eddie was solely at the wrong time in the wrong place when... when Chrissy and Patrick were attacked."

Jason looks at me in disbelief, his eyes wandering down to my neck, where he notices the marks left by Eddie.

"So that's how it is," he says disgustedly, sitting back in his seat and refusing to look at me again. "You let the freak fuck you, and now you're excusing him and his actions. You're choosing him instead of your own family and friends and completely disregard his victims."

"That's not what I'm doing, Jason," I say. "If- If you really think there is something evil and satanic going on... Maybe the monster hunted Chrissy and Patrick, and when it attacked, Eddie just happened to be there."

He shakes his head. "Munson is a vessel. I don't know when he became one, but I know what got him there... This satanic game and the music he listens to."

"Jason, Dungeons & Dragons is a fantasy game. It's like being the main character in The Hobbit. You know we loved that book when we were younger. It's harmless, and Eddie is basically a sweet nerd with rough edges. And his taste in music...

"It's just metal. You know it doesn't make you a murderer. You secretly bought me my first Black Sabbath cassette tape when Mom and Dad forbid me to have it."

He ignores me, angry tears in his eyes while he continues to fidget with the velvet box in his hand. I start the car and drive us to my place. I am too tired and frustrated to drive any more than that.

*****

"[y/n], do you have any idea how worried we were?" my father yells angrily, Mom agreeing. "You stay out all night, and your cousin has to pick you up from a trailer park."

I sigh, pressing my palms onto the cold kitchen table. "Come on. He was drunk as hell. I had to drive him and his friends home. You can barely say he picked me up."

Jason had used the hurt he felt from losing Chrissy and our talk in the car to unload all his paranoia of the night on my parents, then went to bed in our guest bedroom, leaving me to pick up the mess.

"Still, your behavior-" I interrupt my Dad, "I know. I made a mistake, and I am sorry. Can I now please go to my room?"

"No. I don't want you to see that boy anymore." "What?" I ask loudly.

"This Munson kid has caused enough harm. I will be damned if I let you end up like Chrissy Cunningham," Dad yells determent, making me shake my head.

"Eddie had nothing to do with Chrissy's death."

"We don't know that for sure," Mom says, trying to be the calm voice of reason as my father becomes angrier by the second.

"Yes, we do," I argue. "Jason has been spinning out of control for months now. Why isn't anybody in this fucking town questioning his bullshit accusations?"

Mom hands my father his coffee, and he takes it to the living room. Simply leaving the discussion like he always does. Then she sits down beside me, trying to hold my hand.

"People wouldn't find it so easy to believe if the Munson boy hadn't given them so many reasons to."

I let out a sarcastic laugh, then scoff, "Funny, 'cause when people tried to – very rightfully so – suspect that our family's wealth comes from decades of slavery and human trafficking, you both told me that foolish people are willing to believe everything just to run their mouths."

"[y/n]..."

I shake my head, so angry at my family's hypocrisy, "You're not treating Eddie fair. You're judging him and his character through his upbringing, social status, and nonsensical rumors from an unstable family member."

"Hun, I know you like that boy, and dating a bad boy sounds exciting for girls your age – I know, I've been there – But boys like that have the power of ruining your life."

"You don't know him, Mom," I tell her, tears in my eyes. The Upside Down had thoroughly messed up my relationship with my family. "When the earthquake hit Hawkins, I was with Eddie and our friends. If he hadn't been there, I would be dead now. He saved me."

Mom looks at me, shocked. I've refused to talk about the accident until now since I still haven't thought out a perfect lie. I see the pain in my mother's eyes, I know she loves me, and after so many died due to the earthquake, it terrifies her that I could've been one of them.

"Mom, Eddie's a little weird, sometimes completely bonkers, loud, and obnoxious, but he is neither dangerous nor bad for me."

She presses her lips together, trying not to mess up her perfectly applied lipstick. Then she nods. "Go to bed. We'll talk once you have had some sleep."

I go to my room, locking the door behind me. Dressing in some fresh underwear and an oversized band t-shirt my mother hates, I lay down on my bed.

It's already light outside, soon, my dad will go to work, and my mom will pop some uppers and drive around town, spending some money on things we don't need and thinking about what to serve for dinner.

I wonder if I would've ever noticed how dysfunctional our family is, even with all our money, wouldn't I've gotten involved with Will's vanishing?

Would I've ever known how much more important my happiness is than following my family's plans and traditions?

Knocking on my bedroom window pulls me from my thoughts. On the tree branch in front of my window stands Eddie.

"What are you doing here?" I ask as I open it, letting him in.

"I wanted to see if you're okay... And I brought your guitar," he smiles, turning the strep across his chest and putting Honey into my view. I'd forgotten the guitar in my hurry.

"I'm sorry, [y/n]. He grabbed you really hard. I- I should've defended you," Eddie says, hands running up and down my arm, causing goosebumps to appear.

"Jason was drunk and with his friends. They were only looking for a reason to hurt you," I tell him as he hands me the guitar, and I place it on the floor next to my vanity.

I turn on some music, not too loud to annoy anybody, but loud enough to hide that I wasn't alone. Eddie, meanwhile, starts snooping around, almost reminding me of a puppy being in its new home for the first time.

"Now that's a preppy room. I've never seen a preppy room, but this one..." he chuckles, his big button eyes filled with amusement. "I know. Mom decorated it."

He looks further around while I sit down on my bed. As he opens my closet door, a poster of Eddie Van Halen has him crack up before he goes on a deep dive to see all the things I hide in there from my parents.

"Now, that's more like you," Eddie exclaims, pulling out my old working uniform. "You know, I always walked by Scoops Ahoy when I was at the mall... Always hoped to see you."

With butterflies in my stomach, I watch him hang the uniform back into the closet. "I saw you walking by a couple of times. Why didn't you talk to me?"

He shrugs, walking to the end of my bed. "I chickened out. I mean, would you've actually talked to Eddie 'The Freak' Munson, or would you've called for Harrington to protect you?"

"I would've loved having you talk to me," I assure him, and he begins to grin. "Careful; I might start believing you had a crush on me, Sweetheart."

I crawl to the end of my bed, pulling Eddie down by his jacket. His grin becomes bigger before his lips press down on mine. I shuffle back to my pillows, pushing his jacket over his shoulder and throwing it aside. We kiss again as he makes himself comfortable between my legs.

Eddie breaks the kiss, whispering, "I need to leave before your parents come in and find us like that."

His knuckles brush over my cheeks, a soft smile on his lips, and I realize that I don't want him to leave—the quite opposite, actually. I want him to be even closer to me.

"My door's locked," I tell him with a cheeky grin. "They think I'm sleeping."

His softness quickly begins harboring an aura of mischief. "Naughty little thing," he whispers, pressing his lips against mine.

The kiss becomes rough and demanding as Eddie growls into it, starting to explore my mouth with his tongue. After hours of doing nothing else last night, his hands on my body and lips on my own feel natural. My fingers glide into his curly mane while I start rocking my hips against him, searching for friction.

An excited whimper leaves me, and I reach for his belt. "N-No, Sweetheart," Eddie stops me gently. "We have no condoms."

"Pill," I exclaim, needier than planned. "I'm on the pill." He raises his brows for a second, and I add, "I started taking it as part of a feminism phase Robin and I had."

Eddie props himself up, looking at me, insecure. "And you're sure you actually want that? I'm not really the upper-class jock your parents want for you."

I'm looking up at this intimidatingly looking metalhead, smiling. Looks can be so deceiving. "I know, and I like you better that way," I tell him, watching his self-doubt melt away and replace with a contented smile.

Pulling his shirt over his head, he tosses it somewhere in my room. I goggle at his naked chest, the tattoos, the scars, the happy trail. I'm close to tears, and I don't know why; my body feels like I'm being lit on fire; all I can think of is how badly I want him.

"I want you," I whine, hips moving up against nothing. "Please..."

Eddie leans down, pecking my lips for a moment, "I know, baby. I want you too." As he moves back up, he grabs the hem of my shirt, waiting. I lift my back enough so he can take it off me. He tosses it over his shoulder, eyes locking with my breasts.

"Shit," he mutters under his breath, eyes wandering across the room for a moment. As he looks at me again, he licks his lips. "You're so beautiful."

He drops onto his elbows, kissing me again. Eddie's hands roam my body; thighs, stomach, breasts; there is no place he doesn't explore. So at one point, his fingers glide over my clothes pussy.

I try to move into his touch. Eddie chuckles, pulling my panties aside and letting his fingers run through my folds. He grunts into the kiss, moving up a little, "Holy fuck, Sweetheart. You're so wet."

I nod, embarrassed, swallowing a loud moaning the second he touches my swollen clit. He shushes me gently, pecking my lips, then moves his fingers to his mouth. They glisten in the morning sun, and as he licks my wetness from them, I become dizzy for a second.

Eddie grins at me, fully aware of the effect he just had on me. He comes closer again, kissing me and letting me taste myself on his tongue. Then he kisses my neck, wandering down and stopping at my breast, gently sucking on my left nipple while playing with my right one.

I struggle to stay quiet, hating the thought of having to wait any longer. "Eddie, please," I whine, hips jolting up and meeting with his clothed erection.

He grabs the waistband of my panties, making me lift my hips to help him remove them. They are quickly thrown aside, my hands on his belt again. This time I'm triumphant; Eddie climbs off the bed, taking off his jeans, underwear, and shoes.

I bite into the pillowy part of my bottom lip as I'm met with the view of his hard, veiny cock, making him chuckle and kiss me playfully all over the face as he climbs back on top of me.

Guiding his cock up and down my pussy, he coats himself with my arousal, using it like a natural lubricant. "Ready?" he asks, and I nod, grinning excitedly.

Lining up with me, he pushes in slowly until he fully bottoms out inside me. My eyes press shut, and a whimper leaves my lips at the stinging. My nails dig into the skin of his upper arms. Eddie doesn't move anymore, giving me time to get used to the new, stretching sensation.

"Doing so good, baby," he whispers, kissing my cheek, the corner of my lips, and then me fully. I melt into his gentle touches, hands stroking up and down my sides.

"So beautiful," he grins. "And all mine." I nod. "All yours."

Eddie begins to move, making me feel so full, that I think I'm about to break in two, but instead, every thrust of his makes me feel alive.

I want more, figuring out how to meet his thrusts, moving against him. Our breathing becomes louder, moans and praises are spoken with hushed voices.

Eddie doesn't pick up the speed, my bed already threatening to give us away. Instead, he becomes harsher, administrating long and deep thrusts that make my eyes roll into the back of my head.

I moan loudly, arching my back. In an instant, his hand covers my mouth. "We need to be quiet, baby," he reminds me quietly but doesn't stop pounding into me for even a second.

I moan into his palm, holding onto his wrist, so his hand doesn't move from my mouth. "I know. I know, don't worry. I'll make sure they don't hear you," he promises with a low grunt as he rolls his hips into mine.

Our eyes lock, his gaze full of lust and admiration. Sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead. His thrust become more demanding, and I hear my own wetness every time he rocks against me.

As control seems to escape us, Eddie's deep, husky moans become louder. The secrecy of having raw sex that I was taught would get me to hell before marriage feels so filthy, yet it is heaven.

My nails dig into the flesh of his back, and his lips press kisses against my shoulder and collarbone, occasionally biting into it. Tightening around Eddie, I am on the edge of my orgasm.

"Fuck," he moans. Our eyes meet again, his hand still over my mouth. I lift my hand as he curses again, clasping it over his mouth.

His hips stagger at this before a moan vibrates in my palm. I come right then. I fall apart into millions of pieces and am put back together a new person—a free one that doesn't care about any social status anymore.

If this is wrong, if this is sin, I want to be amiss for the rest of my life.

A deep growl is muffled in my palm as Eddie comes, both of us silencing the other's moans as we ride out our high.

As his hips still, our hands retreat. Stupid, exhausted grins on our lips; he kisses me and pulls out. I whimper at the sudden emptiness, having him chuckle and lie beside me.

Eddie pulls me into a tight embrace, and we just lay there, wrapped around each other for a few minutes, listening to nothing but our breathing.

My head rests on his chest, fingers circling his tattoos and dark pink scars. We're both sweaty, but neither of us cares. This moment is perfect.

"[y/n]?" Eddie whispers into the silence, hand locked around my waist to ensure I stay put.

"Hm?" I hum, looking up at him. "Your parents want you to stay away from me, right?" He asks, insecurity, sighing deeply as I nod. "Figured."

"Eddie..." I whisper as he sits up, grabbing his boxers. He shakes his head, pulling them up. "No, they're right. You'll find better, deserve better."

I stop the curly-headed metalhead before he can dress any further. Hand on his arm, I lean close. "Don't say that. I- It's only until we're graduating. Once I get my money, I'll move out, and we can be together... If you still want that."

He looks at me for a second, then whispers, "Your family will be furious with you." I nod. "Yeah, but they'll calm down once they see how happy I am... I hope."

I don't have much faith in it, but I refuse to live the miserable life my parents approve of. Eddie's tongue swipes over his lips while he is thinking; I can visibly see the cogs turn behind his chocolate eyes.

"So, that would make one month where I don't get to hold, kiss, or even talk to you," he says emotionless.

"Is that okay?" I ask, unsure. We are rushing; the decisions are way too extreme for the little time we spent like this.

But like I said, Vecna could return at any moment. We could die faster than we seem to be rushing. I have to go all in and live.

Eddie turns to me, the knuckles of his ringed fingers brushing offer my cheek. "Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens," he hums a familiar quote, proving him to be a soft nerd under all his leather and chains.

"I have been head over heels for you since I was seventeen, and until everyone thought I was a murderer, I never even dared to look at you for too long. I can handle loving you from afar for a month."

My heart skips a beat as I echo, "Loving me?"

Pressing a kiss on my lips, he chuckled, "Seriously, if you haven't picked up on that by now, you're the one who needs a tutor."

He pushes me back into the pillows, climbing on top of me. Insecure all my life, I absolutely don't mind being completely naked in front of Eddie. He makes me feel safe and like it doesn't matter what I look like.

"Shit," I cuss, remembering his test. "How are we going to study for your test?" Kissing the tip of my nose, he smiles, "We don't. I can handle my studying, [y/n]. I'm a big boy. You just keep practicing with Honey, so I can have a jam session with my girlfriend soon, okay?"

Girlfriend. I am Eddie 'The Freak' Munson's girlfriend.

My life has been full of titles until now, the cheerleader, teacher's pet, Jason Carver's cousin, golden child, tutor, babysitter... But this is the first one that I feel proud of, the first one that feels authentic.

➤ Here is Part 2: Girlfriend

#eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

597 notes · View notes

vinetae · 1 year

Text

Mommy's Good Boy - JJK

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Genre: Smut. Literally no plot. 18+

word count: 1k

Summary: You and Jungkook try reversing the roles for once.

Warnings: Anal fingering and anal penetration. Ain't your style? Me neither, but hey - we discover something new about ourselves everyday, huh?

A/n: Again, I'm not sorry. Had this idea written while watching Netflix. Was originally meant for Jimin (because I had the random urge to peg the shit out of that man) but I felt Jungkook would be the more compliable one.

As always, enjoy!!

Edit: try reading it with this

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

"Y-You wanna do what?" He half jokingly laughs, hand scratching behind his neck. Your eyes plead with determination, as you scoot across to his side of the couch, straddling his lap. Hand slipping inside of his athletic shorts, teasingly stroking his cock.

"Pleeease? Just once, Kookie. You know, feminine power?"

"Feminine power is not you sticking a dildo up my ass." He bites back, palm wrapping around your wrist to try and remove your hand from his shorts. He'd already grown quite a bit, in a matter of seconds. It didn't help that your thumb was sliding over the slit of his dick, earning yourself a shudder from his half-exposed body.

You whine, lips coming to tease the side of his neck. Soft moans roll against the shell of his ear, making his words choke. You had the begging thought of using a strap-on, but he had said no in the very first part of you dating. He said he didn't want it to 'make him gay'.

Whatever that meant.

"Babbyyy" You drag out your voice in hopes of convincing him to use this head instead of that head. His legs unconsciously part, as your shifted to one of his thighs. Pussy pressed flat on the exposed part of his legs, as his chest flutters out in a string of shuddering mess.

"B-Baby p-please-" Fuck, was it getting harder to control himself. Honestly, his dick had been kind of begging for your idea, but him? Not so much. The thought of you bending him over like he'd done to you so many times before, had his mind spinning. Your hands gripping on his ass, instead of the other way around. Maybe a few light spankings and-

Shit. He was harder than Calculus.

His hands shift down, pulling you away from his body. His heart absolutely melts at your pout, which only furthers this sporadic decision.

"Okay."

"Really!?"

"Yeah yeah, just- just don't make it a big deal, please?" You nod, eager to hop up and practically dance every K-pop song known to man. He laughs at your cuteness, before watching you disappear for a second into the bedroom.

When returning, his mouth gaps at the sight. Something that looked as if had been made to suck out a baby's boogies, lays in your hand.

"What's that?"

"Wait.. I have to what*?"

"Well, women sometimes do it to clean their vaginas, but men also do it for ana-"

"Yeah yeah I get that.. uhm.." His eyes still in shock at the little contraption. Confused and concerned for both his and your safety. Mainly wondering why you had this. Did a gay guy best friend give it to you? Have you used it? I mean, Jimin had always seemed pretty fruity in his opinio-

"Jungkook" You call out. He shakes his head, pushing the item away.

"Just.. use a condom. Cause there's no way in hell that's" He points at the little device, "Is going in me." You chuckle.

"Well that" Your finger points to the six-inch dildo that sat on your bed, all neat and spread out for anyone's viewing, "is going in you."

You laugh at his face crinkling.

"Yeah, and I'm not too happy about either."

"Aww, you look adorable, baby." You coo, watching as he sheepishly hides behind the door panel that separates the bedroom from bathroom. Hands embarrassingly covering his crotch as you coerce him into stepping out.

"Mmm," You moan, smirking towards his -rather no- outfit choice. "Almost too good to eat."

"Y/n!" You giggle at his yelp, patting the bed next to you. He walks over, taking a seat. You're quick to throw your leg over his lap, before pushing him down into the comfort of his black sheets.

"I thought married couples only did this.." Smirking, you motion for him to flip on his stomach. His comment earns him a light smack, watching as the flesh of his ass jiggles.

"Head down ass up, baby boy." You watch as his bum rises from the bed, all for your viewing glory. He truly had an amazing rear.

A little too excited, you're quick to slide the condom over your two fingers, before grazing the tips around his puckered entrance.

He immediately flinches, pulling his ass away from you. "No no no no, nope nope nope, and no!" You giggle, leaning over to place hot, open kisses along his spine.

He groans, fingers digging into the sheets. "Y/n.. I don't thin-"

"Shhh," You coo, fingering presses circles along the rim of his hole. "You're alright baby, I got you. My good little boy, behaving so well for mommy, isn't that right?"

His lips part to moan loudly. Sweat decorating his knitted brows in excitement. The hard-on he displayed stood proud and tall against his stomach, as you pressed the tip of your finger past his tight walls.

"F-Fuck oh shit- W-Weird.." He groans, hips uncontrollably rocking back against your finger. A smirk presses your lips, as you start applying pressure to his prostate. You'd watched so many videos, seen so many tutorials, and even asked professionals at your favorite store on how to prepare for this. You were more than ready.

Jungkook? Not so much.

His jaw loosens at the feeling, as you use the freedom of your other hand to message his balls gently.

"Who's my good boy?" You coo. Surprised to get such a quick response.

"I-I am." You hum, pressing the tip of your clear, condom wrapped dildo to his hole, before slowly slipping your fingers out.

"And who am I?"

"Y-Y/n"

Smack.

He cries out, body lunging forward from shock as he's quick to change his answer.

"Mo-Mommy."

You gleam, before slowly pushing into his tight entrance. "That's my good boy."

"Nngh-" You noticed how white his knuckles had become, watching as the poor sheets are wound tightly in his grasp, mouth holding back a few choked out moans. Your palm grazes over the round of his ass, before applying another smack. "O-oH Fuck!"

"Tell mommy what you want, baby boy."

His breath is whiny and desperate, as you pick up speed. Hips snapping along his own, hand gripping to his waist to control the situation.

This time, he gives in.

"P-Please fuck me, mommy! Ug- I'll be so good, I promise!"

You reach forward, free had wrapping around his hard cock, as your hand is immediately coated in a heap of pre-cum. You chuckle to yourself.

and he said he wasn't excited for it.

Your thumb grazes over the slit of his dick, before quickening your pace on both ends. He's sent into an all time, crazy, euphoric state. Moans digging into the pillow as he muffles the sounds from being too loud for the neighbors. Ass getting plowed, as your hand is working wonders around his cock at the same time. His thighs shook at the overstimulation. Just a few beats go by, and he's cumming all over your hand.

With the pace slowing down to an almost zero, his body falls flat on the bed, chest heaving with exhaustion. You unstrap the belt, loosening it's buckle as is drops to circle your thighs.

Body plopping down along with his, as you pull him into a tight embrace. Arms wrapped around his whole upper body, while you whisper sweet words into his ear.

"You're mommy's good boy, hmm?"

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

It's short but so is my attention span so 🤷‍♂️

#who's gay now Jungkook #bts #jeon jungkook #jjk #bts smut #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook x reader #Mommy's good boy

208 notes · View notes

track09life · 5 months

Text

yeah, i know, i did that!

#stu macher #scream #ghostface #scream 1996 #tattoos #Spotify

36 notes · View notes

rove-bogge · 1 year

Text

continued from here @threadedwheels ___ Rove listened to the other, his stomach dropping when the other pretty much told him that he didn’t know what to do. His face fell, eyes meeting his knees as he felt the lump in his throat tighten.

“Me traumatised? Nah!” He scoffed. Shaking his head as he thought over his life. He couldn’t be traumatised, nothing traumatic had happened to him. Right?

Denial was strong.

“Ok…let's get back into something easier to work with.” He sighed heavily. “Ortho…I said a shitty thing to him…how do I fix that?” Shame boiling on his face as he remembered what he said. “I told him that he was just programmed to be nice to me. That he would just delete all memories of me when he and Idia leave.” He groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Ortho was the chosen family he desperately wanted to claim but something just held him back every time.

#yeah i'm the boogie man!#double or nothing #threadedwheels #Denial is not just a river

9 notes · View notes

moved-to-tobernaut · 2 months

Text

Woe Cult of the lamb OC be upon ye

I've been trying to embrace my cringe so. But the real reason I'm posting this is because I have 8,000 COTL sketches in various states of finish and if I don't post something I'll lose traction so get creatured. May post more of this guy maybe.

Some rambles under cut

Man this guy has been through so many changes. I made him back when I first got really into cult of the lamb to help me experiment with shipping. This was pre sins of the flesh, pre leshycat popularity and I don't fuck with incest so OCs were one of the only option and man I went hard.

Now he's settled down as a character a bit. I'm more focused on his role as a sort of thinly worn yet content caretaker. That doesn't mean he can't get around a little now and then, though, when the urge strikes me.

For his design I basically took everything I liked In A Creature and slapped it onto one Guy™️. I never really did furry/anthro art pre cotl, though I dabbled in monsters, so this was really new to me at the time. (Still is, tbh.) So yeah. Bat ears, some little antenna feeler things, spidery mouth and paws, fangs, four arms, toe beans, fluff and fur, freckles, somehow. Literally just anything that makes me boogie in a fella.

I reeeeally wanted to make this post with more drawings but I'm trying really hard not to burn out. Another social media page of mine lies dead because I burnt myself out trying to chase algorithms. I want to make a nice lil balance between post all the time always and literally never.

Shit this was supposed to be about my oc

#im so tired rn #anyway if someone wants to talk cult of the lamb ocs #PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE #lol jk #unless??#cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb oc #i am cringe but i am free #cotl Amon #tober art

16 notes · View notes

gryfflepuffinthetardis · 5 months

Text

The Man Who Sold the World (Sweet Jane Part Three) — Campbell Bain x Reader

Sweet Jane Episode One: Hey Jude

Sweet Jane Episode Two: Fly Like an Eagle

“She’s a mystery, but allow me to uncomplicate her for you. She isn’t impressed by material things. She’s a romantic; all she wants is love, conversation, and wine.”

Warning: Trauma from a toxic ex, Fear of a toxic ex, Stalking,

youtube

Campbell, Fergus, and Y/N were on a stage, playing music while Rosalie walked through the crowd with her gloves on, handing around a petition, as Dancing in the Street played.

“This is street radio, keeping you, you dancing in the street! And if you like what you've heard so far, then come and sign the petition which says: ‘We, the undersigned, would like Campbell Bain and Ready Eddie McKenna to be given their own show on local radio’, and make us the first DJs in radio history to go professional by popular demand!”

The crowd applauded and Campbell played Do Ya Think I'm Sexy. “Here's an anonymous dedication to Debbie, who works in the travel center just across from us, from,” He started talking in the husky “dead smoochy” voice again, "a secret admirer who could show you what love is, yeah!" Then there was a slight pause before Campbell pointed, “Well, all right, Debbie, it's that wee baldy guy in the blue anorak.”

The audience laughed at his humor as he took Y/N’s hands and eased her into a dance, making his hair flop about before a police officer came up, turning off the boombox, making the audience boo.

“Right, party's over. You're busking without a permit and ye's have got one minute to clear off.”

Campbell, even though he had a microphone and was face-to-face with the officer, he still shouted into the microphone, “A PERMIT?! ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT,” He had gestured to the cop and then himself before turning to the audience, “WE NEED A PERMIT TO DANCE?!”

“NO!” The crowd shouted.

“DO WE NEED A PERMIT TO BOOGIE?!” Campbell shouted as the cop walked off, annoyed and Y/N and Fergus exchanged looks.

“NO!”

“WE ARE HERE TO BOOGIE AND WE SHALL NOT BE MOVED!” Campbell enthusiastically pumped his fist over his head, triumphantly.

The crowd cheered and applauded as Y/N thought she spotted someone taking pictures… but they seemed to be focused only on her, if she moved away from Campbell and Fergus, the camera followed only her. It wasn’t the kind that the press used being something like a Nikon model camera but more of a Canon model. She got distracted when Fergus hissed at Campbell, “What are you doing?” Fergus asked.

“I told you it would work! We've got a genuine incident going here!” Campbell said, excitedly, making Y/N look at him and then said in an excited singsong voice, “We are gonna be in the papers!”

Y/N joined them, poking her head around Fergus, “We're gonna be in jail, Campbell.”

There were police sirens wailing as more police officer came running up.

“...Yeah, we'll just merge quietly into the crowd and then leg it.” Campbell said and they grabbed their stuff and ran off, pushing through the crowd and Rosalie followed them, and it quickly became obvious where they were to the police.

Y/N ran past the guy still taking pictures and she got a sense of familiarity, so she stopped and looked at him but he ran off to a distance before taking more pictures of her before Campbell came back, grabbing her hand and pulling her.

“COME ON!”

Fergus, Campbell, and Y/N climbed over a sort barricade of junk. Y/N walked backwards to see the guy still taking pictures before she accidently stepped off the side of the junk and hit the ground with a yelp. Campbell went to her as Fergus held out a hand for Rosalie but she declined, despite wearing gloves and climbed over herself as Campbell helped Y/N up, a great constrast from when they first met just months ago.

“You alright?”

“Peachy pie.” She said, somewhat sarcastically.

He grinned and then he kissed her cheek and took her hand and ran off.

Eddie was in the station, filling in for Y/N who was supposed to be filling in for Campbell if he weren’t there. But neither were there.

“That was Runaway and this is Ready Eddie, standing in for Y/N L/N who should be standing in for Campbell Bain, who have both... run away! So... if you're out there and Campbell Bain is sitting next to you, smoking a fag and having a wee blether with your invisible voices or if you see Y/N L/N keying Campbell Bain’s dad’s car or furthering guilting him, tell them to—!” He played Baby Come Back as the four patients entered the station.

“Is it seven already?” Campbell asked.

“It's quarter past. Where the hell have you been?” Eddie demanded.

“Y/N, Rosalie and I got an afternoon pass. We staged a publicity stunt! A road show right in the middle of Argyle Street! And the police even came to break it up! Are you gonna tell me that's not frontpage news?!” He said, excitedly.

“What papers did you invite?” Eddie said, irritated.

It was immediately clear that Campbell was not aware of this fact, “‘Invite’? You mean you have to invite them?” He looked around at the group as Y/N closed the blinds over the window, anxiously, “Does that not... slightly... cheapen it?”

“Campbell, this station is falling apart. If something doesnae happen soon, we'll no have a station to publicize. In the past fifteen minutes, yet another channel on the mixer has blown; if I don't get any good news from Evelyn tomorrow about a new mixer, we may have to stop broadcasting altogether!” He started to shout in Campbell’s face, “You want to go professional? RULE ONE: TURN UP FOR YOUR SHOW!”

Campbell hung his head, ashamed and muttered, “...Sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie, then turned to Fergus and shouted, “How'd you no realize that channel was gonnae blow? How was it no checked?”

“...Sorry, Eddie.” Fergus shrugged.

Eddie then turned to Rosalie, “And what about you? You're the station manager; 's your job to make sure the show goes out!”

“...Sorry, Eddie.” She said, softly and splashed some Dettol into her hands and rubbed them together.

Then he turned to Y/N, “Aren’t you supposed to keep them in line, Y/N!?” Eddie shouted at Y/N who didn’t look sorry but more angry and tiresome, used to being screamed at. But she wasn't going to take it anymore.

“And where were you during Campbell’s first show. You were twenty minutes late, McKenna. Point is everyone makes mistakes and by the way WHY THE HELL AM I IN CHARGE OF KEEPING THEM IN LINE, I’M ONLY EIGHTEEN! I’M THE YOUNGEST ONE HERE!” She then spoke loudly but not in a yell again, if she yelled her voice became all hoarse from lack of use. “so how about you stop yelling at us because we’ve got work to do, so let’s just try and see a little bit of discipline and professionalism around here, huh? That alright with you, salesman of double windows.” She sassed much like a sassy temp would.

“Anyway. Record's almost finished. I've got to go to work.” Eddie said, putting his coat on.

“No problem.” Campbell said and he sat in the DJ chair while Y/N sat in the co-DJ chair, “Right.”

“Quiet! We're going on air now!” Rosalie said, loudly, making Eddie put a finger to his ear.

Y/N played the Hospital Radio Saint Jude's jingle as Eddie left and Campbell spoke into the microphone, “And that was Baby Come Back, coming at you from 1968.”

Apparently Rosalie felt the near empty hallway wasn’t quiet enough because she opened the door and shouted down the corridor, “I said, QUIET!” Her voice echoed on the radio, making Y/N flinch.

“Rosalie!” Campbell hissed.

Rosalie then spotted her husband, glaring at her, “Oh. It's you.”

It was quiet for a moment before Y/n leaned over Campbell, bringing the microphone to her mouth. “Um… this next song will be to all those unaccepting fathers who won’t accept that their son is amazing just the way they are but refuse to accept them and criticize him to the point that he had a legitimate manic episode.” Not true but he didn't know that. Nor did he deserve to know that.

“Y/N.” Campbell blushed.

“And also, for all those who got away. Oh Father.” She started playing Madonna’s Oh Father.

youtube

Campbell pushed the fader slider and he pulled out a plastic bag, “I, uh, kind of guilt tripped my mother into stealing some money from my dad.” He smiled nervously, “And I bought you these.” He pulled a pair of light purple on light blue headphones.

“Campbell…” She smiled, touched. “You didn’t have to.”

“Well, I did break yours. Here,” He opened the box and unraveled the wire, spazzily and then he put them over her neck, leaning forwards her as he moved her hair and tucked them behind her ears. His eyes glanced down at her lips and he slowly leaned closer and then suddenly panic erupted inside her chest as traumatic memories flashed behind her eyes and she kicked the swivel chair back and ran out of the station, leaving Campbell very confused and now feeling dejected, his posture sank and he pouted, now resembling a kicked puppy dog (possibly kicked by his father or Stuart)

Evelyn was still perpetually closed minded about not only the patients working at the station but group therapy. Where was Doctor Winter!?

Campbell was pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair as he eyed Y/N warily given that he had tried to kiss her and she ran in the opposite direction at full-speed but she was avoiding his gaze as Rosalie cleaned the station with her last bottle of Dettol when Eddie entered.

“How bad is it?” Campbell asked, eagerly.

Clearly Eddie was also annoyed with Evelyn’s behavior because he bitterly said, “We're getting nothing; they're afraid we may be a luxury they cannae afford; but they do wantae know if we want to do something for the Open Day next week.” He turned to Fergus, “What do you think?”

“They can't do this!” Campbell whined as Y/N went to him, calming him down by running her hands through his floppy locks, he leaned into their touch.

“How long can we keep going?” Eddie asked Fergus.

“A few months, or...” Fergus started.

“Few days.” Eddie finished.

“They are nipping my brilliant career in the bud!” Campbell shouted.

“They want rid of you, you know.” Francine said.

“Oh, aye?” Eddie asked and Francine nodded.

“That's how they do things in here. They never say ‘ye cannae do that’ or ‘ye cannae have that’, but ye cannae. You wantae put a poster up by your bed, they'll tell you there's nae Blu-tack. If you find some Blu-tack, they tell you it'll damage the paint. If you get some paint, they'll tell you the color doesnae match. They never actually stop you, but somehow you just stop.”

Y/N chuckled bitterly, “Story of my life.”

“Well, not this time.” Campbell said, determinedly, “Eddie, you tell them that yes, we do want to do something for the Open Day. We are gonna run a fundraiser to buy a new mixing desk.”

“How?”

“I see a Hospital Radio Road Show on a flatbed lorry. I see music and dancing. I see reporters!” He said, enthusiastically.

“I see no money, Campbell.” Eddie rubbed his temple.

“Well, we'll charge to play requests and dedications! And then, we will pull off one absolutely brilliant publicity stunt that will blaze its colors across every newspaper in Scotland!” He declared as Y/N got an idea.

“Such as?” Eddie asked, flatly.

“...I don’t know!” Campbell sputtered but remained undeterred, “I-I could get up on the roof of the hospital and threaten to jump unless the punters give us enough to buy a new mixer.

“Aye, but they might want you to jump.” Y/N said in a slightly sarcastic deadpan voice.

“Well then I'll threaten no to jump unless the punters give us enough to buy a new mixer.” Campbell half-joked, getting close to her, at least she was making eye contact with him again.

“Campbell, they are not going to let you threaten to jump off the hospital rooff for their Mental Health Week Open Day!” Eddie scolded.

“It was only my first idea!” Campbell defended, “Come on, Y/N, Fergus, Rosalie—we've gotta mobilize the troops! Hospital radio must survive!”

He took Y/N’s hand and walked off with Fergus following while the skeptical Eddie sat down and Rosalie was writing in her notebook.

Campbell came back and spoke to Rosalie, “Rosalie, what are you doing?”

“Uh, just—writing a list.” She said.

“Come on!”

“I gotta make a phone call!” Y/N said and ran down the hall as Campbell whined after her.

“Y/N!”

Campbell gathered the gang and the inmates for an announcement which as per usual annoyed Alistair.

“Fellow inmates! I suppose you're all wondering why I've asked you here today.”

“Just get on with your bid.” Alistair complained.

“Yes, how dare we interrupt your TV time.” Y/N deadpanned.

"I liked it better when you didn't speak at all." Alistair muttered, grumpily.

“We all remember what life here was like before hospital radio.” Campbell said.

“Aye, a lot quieter.” Hector piped up.

"Becasue Y/n never spoke." Alilaster grumbled but he was ignored completely.

“You're right, Hector! Hospital radio has brought us music, laughter, got us dancing in the corridors! Before that, the most excitement we got here was listening to you fart God Save the Queen or waiting for Myra the Catatonic to blink or trying to get Y/N to talk!” He smiled at her with a light in his eyes, “Now, is that what you want to go back to?” Campbell then turned to look at Sheila who was shaking her head, “Is it?”

“No!” She said.

Campbell paced with his hands behind his back as if a solider, addressing his troop, making Y/N Well. Unless we can raise the dosh to buy a new mixer, that's all there's going to be round here.

“What's a ‘mixer’?” Billy asked.

“Shh!” Margaret shushed him as Fergus and Eddie exchanged amused looks.

“But with your help, we are going to be holding a fundraiser at the Open Day. We are going to be staging a Hospital Radio Road Show, through a 5 kilowatt P.A. on a flatbed lorry in the courtyard, and we're going to need volunteers. To help set up and run the show; to help rattle tins—” Campbell explained, passionately and Y/N noticed Rosalie writing down in her little notebook, “but most of all, to help with the main fundraising event of the day, the Loony Pools!”

Y/N muffled her laughter into her palm as Eddie repeated this questioningly in a low voice to an amused Fergus. “Loony Pools?”

Campbell took a stack of homemade coupons from Y/N, giving her a grateful smile, “We're gonna be handing out coupons, like this one, with details of the contestants—half loonies, half boring folk—who'll be assigned numbers, one to twenty-four, by lottery. Two loonies in a pair is a score draw of three points. But if only the odd-numbered contestant's a loony, then it's a home win, one point. If only the even-numbered contestant is a loony, then it's an away win, one and a half points. If neither of them are loonies, it's a no-score draw of two points. A pound a line, best of eight, high score wins, five dividends of cheap prizes.”

The patients muttered in confusion and Hector asked, “What?”

“Yeah, I’m lost too, Cam.” Y/N muttered.

“...Basically, it's Spot the Loony.” Campbell summed up.

“Oh, cheeky!” A patient said.

“That’s you.” Y/N said in a low tone, nudging Campbell, “Cheeky little rascal.”

Campbell let a blushing smile as his cheeks reddened before turning back to the patients with a goofy lovestruck smile on his face, bouncing on his heels, excitedly. “Now! Volunteers?”

“Aye. I'll volunteer.” Margaret raised her hand.

“Me as well!” Billy volunteered.

“Me too!” Y/N chimed in.

“That's the spirit! Because we are going to show them—” Campbell beamed and then he started chanting while holding his fist up as if rebelling against institutional oppression… they kind of were… in terms of rebelling against oppression towards mental health, rather than racism… though oppression against racism could cause mental health problems. Because rude, normal people suck. “We are loonies and we are proud! Say it! We are loonies, and we are proud!”

“We are loonies, and we are proud! We are loonies, and we are proud!” The patients and Y/N chanted with him.

“Now! Any questions?” Campbell asked.

“Aye. Can I go to the toilet?” Billy asked.

Away you go.” Campbell dismissed him, “Any other questions?”

“Where is this flatbed lorry coming from?” Alistair asked.

“That's a detail we haven't worked out yet, but we're working on it.” Campbell admitted.

“So, who's bringing this massive P.A. then?” Margaret said.

“Well, that's another detail that we've not sorted out yet.” He replied.

“What exactly have you sorted out so far?” Alistair asked, annoyed.

“Well, Sandy in the kitchen's been saving us some tins to rattle.” Campbell muttered.

The patients then muttered unhappily as they left.

“Aw, come on! Have some faith!” Campbell whined.

Campbell leaned back on a table in dejection. Y/N went to his side, leaning against him, comfortingly as she placed a hand on his sternum, gently.

“We can still rattle the tins.” She said, encouragingly, he didn’t say anything, he just rested his floppy-haired head on her shoulder and she ruffled his hair but when she stopped he let out a whined and buried his head into the crook of her neck as she scratched his head, comfortingly as Rosalie was still over by the window making a list.

Campbell couldn’t sleep, he was too sad and lonely despite having several roommates. He kicked his covers off like a toddler when staggered down the hallway to Y/N’s personal dormitory as per requested by her refusing basic needs like sleep, food, and water, and he opened the door to find Y/N reading How To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. She looked up to see Campbell smiling warmly, reassuring her when he saw the fear and nervousness in her eyes which eased softly.

“I just… couldn’t sleep. I’m depressed.” He frowned.

She gave him a gentle smile and ushered him over, he got under the covers next to her but kept his distance, noting that they had never done this before and Y/N was jumpy with men.

Silence as she continued to read, “What… are you reading?” He asked, awkwardly.

“How To Kill a Mockingbird.”

“Never read it.”

“Too dark for your internal sunshine.” She said, ruffling his hair. "I usually perfer audiobooks but... I've learned to be cautious about hearing headphones when everyone else is asleep."

“Favorite character?”

“Boo Radley. He’s likely autistic. Misunderstood yet with a gold heart like us.” She said and rested her head against his shoulder and Campbell hesitantly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she started to read to him be before she dozed off in his arms. He smiled down at her and he turned off her light and kissed the top of her head.

Around midnight, Rosalie entered the boy’s dormitory before finding that Campbell wasn’t there, so she went to Y/N’s personal dormitory as per requested and opened the door to find the two “strictly” friends sleeping next to each other. Or rather, full-on cuddling with Y/N’s head on his shoulder and him with his arms wrapped around her.

“Campbell! Y/N? Are you awake?” She asked in a whisper, neither answered so she turned on Y/N bedside lamp.

Campbell finally woke and reacted to the light, “Jesus! What did you do that for?”

Y/N groaned and pulled the covers over her head, hugging herself into Campbell’s chest, making him let out a gasp and squirming slightly before turning back to Rosalie.

“I wanted to know if you two were awake.” Rosalie said and Y/N groaned from under the covers, saying that she was going back to sleep and no one was going to stop her from doing so.

“Aye, well, I am now.” He sighed, annoyed, he huffed and shifted like, why am I awake, “What do you want?”

“I've been making some lists, Campbell.” She said.

“You're always making lists.” Campbell pointed out like, why do I have to be awake now as Rosalie sat in a chair next to the bed.

“But these ones are for you.” She said and handed the lists over to the sleep-deprived boy from her purse.

"Road haulage companies in the greater Glasgow area." He read and then dryly remarked, unaware that Y/N had gone stock still, “All right, well, thanks, Rosalie, I'm sure I'll find this very useful.”

Y/N suddenly moved urgently, making Campbell jump, scared he had done something wrong. She threw the covers off her, giving Campbell the chance to look down at her nightgown that said, “not crazy, just misunderstood”, his lips twitched into a small smirk of amusement before she spoke.

“Road haulage companies are bound to have flatbed lorries in their fleet! I bet someone'll loan us one, it is for charity.” Y/N said.

Rosalie handed him another paper as he realized what this all meant, “And that's a list of P.A. hire and sales companies; could have some luck there. And this is a list of local merchants who might donate prizes for your Loony Pools. You can recruit most of your non-loonies from the staff, although you'll have to be dead careful, because some of the staff aren't exactly certified…” She had a twirly loony gestured at her head, “non-loonies.

“So not Stuart… or Eddie.” Y/N said. “I could call some of my cousins that live in Edinburgh. They’re all normal, studying abroad.”

“Aye. This is a list of staff bulletin boards in the hospital—" Rosalie continued.

It can be done! You've cracked it, Rosalie!” Campbell said, enthusiastically and he went to shake her hand when she flinched and he remembered, “Oh, sorry.”

“Listen, you couldn't... do something for me, could you?” Rosalie requested.

“Aye, anything!” Campbell said as Y/N placed her chin on his shoulder to look over it as Rosalie handed him a parcel of ugly clothes.

“Listen, you couldn't just put this in your locker and then forget about it?”

“What's in it?”

“Some new clothes Jim brought me.” Rosalie replied.

“Why do you want to put that in my locker?” Campbell said.

“Ugh, this is the most hideous dress I have ever seen.” Y/N said, crinkling her nose at it.

“So I could pretend I lost them. Then I wouldn't have to wear them.”

“You don't want to wear them, don't wear them!”

“Well, Jim says I can't go home unless I wear them.” Rosalie explained and Y/N just flopped onto her back.

“Men.” She scoffed and Campbell gave her an offended look.

“And they want to give me drugs so I can't keep me head straight and defend myself from the germs. I'm down to me last bottle of Dettol but Jim won't let me buy any more, and the doctor says—"

“Now don't let them push you around, Rosalie. Stand up to them.” Campbell encouraged her and Y/N muttered something, sardonically.

“How?”

“You just say…” Campbell then spoke in a bad American accent that vaguely resembled a Brooklyn accent, "‘I'm not gonna take any more o' dis crapola’."

Y/N turned her head to look at him oddly as Rosalie shook her head, “I couldn't do that.”

“How no?”

“I'm not American.” Rosalie pointed out.

“Aye, but it sounds that brilliant when they say it in the films.” He said and Y/N laughed, “‘I'm not gonna take any more o' dis crapola’."

"I'm not going to take any more of this... crapola." Rosalie repeated in her normal voice.

“Uh... you're gonna have to work on the accent.” Campbell said.

“"I'm not gonna take any more of... dis... crapola." She repeated, slowly and awkwardly in an even worst accent. Then she giggled and covered her mouth with her hands as if she had done something scandalous.

Campbell laughed as Y/N rose herself back to having her chin back on Campbell’s shoulder, “That's the spirit!”

“What am I going to do with these clothes?” Rosalie asked.

“Chuck 'em. Burn 'em.” Campbell dismissed.

“Oh, I couldn't do that, Robbie.” Rosalie said and Y/N frowned. Who was Robbie.

“Well, give them to Mad John the Pyromaniac, he'll take care of them.” Campbell said before realizing something, “Did you just call me Robbie?”

Rosalie hurriedly rubbed her hands with Dettoll, “Maybe I'll just put them under my mattress.” She gathered her stuff and then left.

"Right, well, that was a thing." Campbell deadpanned.

“That was odd.” Y/N said.

“Okay, sleepy time.” Campbell said and turned off the light and pulled Y/N into him playfully, making her giggle slightly which warmed his heart.

They couldn’t go back to sleep for a while as Campbell traced circles in her shoulder before he asked, “What do you think you’ll do after you leave?”

“I don’t know. Write? I like to write. Maybe I could be your DJ manager.”

“Yeah, I’ll add it to my list of things to do next to lose my virginity.” He said before hesitantly asking, “are you still a virgin? Not that I want to take it but… I'm not saying that I wouldn't, I mean I would, no! What I mean...”

“No.” She cut him off.

“What?”

“No, I’m not a virgin.” She said and snuggled into the pillow, ending the conversation.

A few days later, Campbell and Y/N were on the air, “Just to remind you that tomorrow, Saint Jude's Hospital Radio Roadshow is going to roll into Open Day, and we need your help to raise money for a new mixer. Without it, hospital radio will soon sound like this.” Silence. Rosalie and Francine looked at him and Y/N in confusion and he smiled meaningfully at them as Y/N giggled into his shoulder, “So! Come along and show your friends, your relations, and the local community that we are loonies, and we are proud!”

Campbell put on Don't Let Me Down as Eddie entered.

“Jesus, what's all this?” Eddie asked.

“You're late.” Rosalie scolded him.

“Sorry, I was working.” Eddie said as Campbell and Y/N pulled their headphones off to watch in amusement.

“Ah, well, here's your list. And you better get started or you'll never get through it.

"Go to car. Put key in ignition. Drive to Hot Jam P.A. hire." Eddie read the thorough instructions.

“There's your address.” Rosalie said, handing him a card.

"Collect speakers. Put in car. Drive back. Take key from ignition." Eddie continued to read.

“Rosalie's nothing if not thorough.” Campbell laughed and Y/N joined in.

“Francine, isn't that banner ready yet?” Rosalie demanded.

“Just finished! And then I have to help Fergus cord the leads.” Francine told her.

“Just give me a minute.” Fergus said which set off Rosalie again.

“A minute? You're only halfway down your list and it's nearly eight o'clock.” She snapped at Fergus and then turned to Eddie, “And you. Well, don't stand there like a dead sheep, go to your car.” Then she rounded on Campbell and Y/N, “And what are you two doing?!”

“I'm in the middle of my show!” Campbell whined and then took Y/N’s hand like he couldn’t do it without having a “manic episode” without her and then gave Rosalie a pouty look.

“Okay, but hurry up!” Rosalie said as Isabel entered.

“Rosalie?”

“Can you not see I am busy?” She snapped at her.

“Your husband's just arrived.” Isabel informed her.

“Tell him to screw off!” Y/N called but was ignored.

“Doctor Cairns can see you now.” Isabel said.

“I'll be there in a minute. I can't stop long.” She said and then she left with Isabel.

“What was that?” Eddie laughed.

“Power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts every loony.” Campbell teased.

“Kind of men in power.” Y/N smirked, cheekily. “It’s the need for control.”

“She organize all this?”

“Aye! By tomorrow night, this hospital isnae gonna know what hit it. And by Monday morning, the Loony Pools is going to be all over every newspaper in Glasgow, paving the way to our career in professional radio! Fergus faxed the press releases this morning.” Campbell said, idealistically and optimistically.

“Aye. Well, just don't be too disappointed if the press don't show up, okay?” Eddie warned.

Campbell’s smile faltered, “What do you mean?”

“It's just that there's nothing all that newsworthy about a bunch of loonies staging a stunt at an Open Day.” Eddie said.

“But it's Mental Health Week.” Campbell said.

“Well, I gave up smoking on National No Smoking Day, but they didnae put my name in the paper.” Eddie pointed out.

Campbell slumped, now disheartened again.

“Good job, Eddie. You made him sad.” Y/N snapped and she took Campbell’s hand.

Eddie sighed, “I better get these speakers. Listen, Campbell.” Campbell looked up at him with a surly expression and Eddie turned back to him, “If we just raise enough money to buy a cheap, nasty secondhand mixer to keep the station going, that'll be enough for me.”

“Ah, well, that's your trouble, Eddie. You aim low every time.” Campbell said, sourly.

“Aye, but I reach my goals.” He said and then left.

“They’ll show up. Even I called some.” Y/N told him, “Hey,” she cupped his cheek and turned his head to look at her, stroking his cheek with her thumb, “trust me?”

He smiled, still somewhat disheartened but believing in her, “Yeah, I trust you.”

Campbell and Fergus and the others carried in speakers, “I've got it, Fergus. The day's entertainment is reaching its climax. The last two contestants mount the stage. The audience mark their coupons; they hand them in. When suddenly, a swarm of photographers surge forward, because it turns out that one of the contestants was none other than—Spike Milligan! The greatest manic-depressive of our time!

“Spike Milligan?” Fergus said.

“Seven out of ten folk will probably think he's a patient! What a news story, eh? What a scoop!” He said, enthusiastically.

“There's only two things wrong with that, Campbell. First, how are you going to get Spike Milligan to appear in your Loony Pools for tomorrow afternoon?”

“Y/N.” Campbell pointed at the H/C-haired girl.

“Uh, a pal of mine's girlfriend's sister went to university with his grandson—” Y/N said, vaguely, avoiding eye contact.

“—Second, everybody knows what he looks like.” Eddie said.

“Good point. We'll need to disguise him.” Campbell said when Rosalie entered wearing just a hideous dress that Jim hadn’t been appreciative of at all as she rubbed her hands with Dettol. “What are you doing wearing that horrible dress?”

“What's going on?” She asked as she set the bottle down on the edge of the table where a speaker is sitting.

“These are the speakers you sent for.

“You can't bring these in here yet I haven't cleaned them! Take them out!” She complained.

“We're going, we're going...” Eddie said and he picked up a speaker and knocked over her bottle of Dettol.

Rosalie gasped, staring in horror as the tension intensified. “It's gone.”

“...I'll get a mop.” Francine said, leaving to do so as Rosalie started to panic.

“That was my last bottle!”

“It's okay, it's okay...” Campbell reassured her.

“What am I going to do? There's germs. There's germs!” She cried.

“Shh, it's okay, Eddie's going to get you some more from the late-night shop.” Y/N reassured her.

“Where's the late-night shop?”

“Fergus'll show you.”

“Uh, I've escaped twice today already.” Fergus protested and Y/N turned to glare at him.

“Germs... kill! And they're everywhere!” Rosalie cried.

“Look, do you want them to come and sedate her? Go!” Campbell hissed and Fergus left with Eddie to get her some more Dettol.

“I’ll pay you back!” Y/N called after them.

“Germs. Kill. Do you not understand? Germs. Kill.” Rosalie panted before going to sit down,“Robbie got sick. Jim said I wasn't washing the lettuce properly. So I washed it and washed it. But he was still sick. Jim said it was 'cause the floors was dirty. So I washed them and washed them. But Robbie stayed sick. Jim said it was the drains, the toilet, the sinks, the dirty washing. The cutting board and the kitchen knives! I made lists of all the places the germs could be. I washed everything! But no. Robbie stayed sick.” Rosalie held back her tears as her voice waivered, “Until he died. I never managed to kill all those germs...”

The death of her son combined with the rage of her husband, who blamed her because he couldn’t blame his son.

“What did he die of?” Campbell asked, gently.

“...Leukemia.”

“Oh, Rosalie...” Campbell said, softly while Y/N knew that this wasn’t the time to bring up that Leukemia was caused by genetics, not germs. It was likely the complusion and intense anxiet had already set in by the time they found out.

“Jim worshipped that lad. He hasn't been the same since.” Rosalie mourned, staring into the distance.

“Trauma can change people. It changed me.” Y/N confessed in a small voice.

Isabel then came in, “Y/N, your cousins are here.”

She tensed and hesitated before leaving without a word. Campbell stood up, watching her leave, slightly concerned.

On opening day, “That’s a lot of people.” Campbell worried, looking out at the crowd.

“Cams, you’ll be great.” Y/N encouraged him.

“By the way, did you call my dad?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged one shoulder, “so you can prove him wrong.”

“Why wouldn’t you consult me first?”

“I didn’t know how’d you react?”

“Not only are there hundreds of people but my road sweeper father, Y/N, I don’t think I can…”

Y/N suddenly stepped closer to him and raised herself on her toes, making his voice die as her lips teased him by getting close to his then pulling away. “I believe in you, Cammie. I’ve always believed in you.”

“Good luck kiss?” He breathed.

She moved to his ear and whispered, “We’ll see.” She started to pull away which made him whine before she turned back and pecked him on the lips and ran off, leaving him blushing like a schoolboy with a stupid look on his face.

Day Tripper played as Campbell spoke into the microphone, “This is for all you day-trippers out there who came to find out what it's like to be loony for a day. So if you've just arrived, get on your straitjacket, plug yourself into the nearest electrical socket, and get on down!”

“Not bad for a looney, huh?” Y/N told Campbell’s father.

“I thought you didn’t speak.” He said, as respectful as ever.

“Your son was going to give up because of you so I spoke up and told him what an ass you are. You’re selfish, inconsiderate, and miserable with your life so you take it out on the son who didn’t turn out like you wanted but guess what manic-depressive disorder is eighty percent genetic and more likely passed down from the father's side of the family than the mother’s, just because there's no known family members of your family doesn't mean there weren't any, you prideful ass. It can also be triggered by stress, emotional abuse, neglect, being bullied, loneliness, isolation, pressure, you know all those you put upon him so he’s a disappointment to you because you’re a disappointment to him in terms of parenting. He can’t turn it off like a switch and it is not an act. So, get your head out of your ass before he gets another manic attack and kills himself because of it.”

She smiled, psychopathically and then walked off, leaving him in stunned silence that she would speak to him like that, and she joined the others as Rosalie was reading out requests.

“Big Girls Don't Cry, The Four Seasons. All Kinds of Everything—”

Eddie had been trying to find the requested records, “You're going too fast!”

“You're just finding too slow.” Rosalie hissed.

“Let me help. What else is there?” Y/N asked.

“Polly.”

“What?” Y/N asked, suddenly so alarmed that her entire body flinched with fear, unaware of the man who had been taking pictures of her was watching but not taking pictures.

“Polly by Nirvana.” She repeated the request that unnerved Y/n when Campbell started talking again and one of her cousins hurried over to her, noticing her cousin’s alarm.

youtube

“Yes, it's time again to separate the loonies from the boring folk, so get ready to mark your X, boys and girls, because if you are one of our lucky winners today, you may walk out of here with one of our fabulous prizes! Which, if you happen to be on a Section 26, means somebody'll come and bring you right back again. You could win a teddy bear, a dancing Coke can, a bottle of cheap sherry, a fruitcake, or a week's supply of cat food. We wanted to give away a color telly and a portable Jacuzzi, but they wouldnae trust us with anything electrical.” He chuckled.

Y/N and her cousin were having a whisper conversation, it was heated like an argument but wasn’t an argument, more of her cousin reassuring her of something when Hector grabbed her arm, making her jerk away into her cousin’s arms who held onto her protectively, looking at Hector as if trying to see if she should beat him down.

“Sorry. Y/N, Mark’s not here.”

Rosalie materialized next to them, “What?”

“He's supposed to be contestant twenty-two, but they discharged him this morning!” Hector warned.

“You'll have to take his place, then.” Rosalie said.

“No, I couldnae!” Hector denied, fearfully.

“You're right. They'd know straightaway you was one of the loonies.

“Rosalie!” Y/N scolded, “where’s your husband? He’d qualify as a looney. What kind of husband doesn’t show up to support his wife?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, loonies and loonettes—” Campbell continued, “Please welcome our next pair of contestants, numbers twenty-one and twenty-two on your coupon.

“Fergus, get up there.” Rosalie said, going to the shy electrician.

“What?”

“I said, get up there! Now, Fergus.” She said and put the “22” lanyard around his neck, then went to Hector as Y/N and her cousin went up to Campbell to inform him.

“Cam, uh, Mark got discharged but we’re replacing him with a very grumpy-looking Fergus.”

He smiled gratefully at her for the update and spoke into the microphone, “Can you spot the loonies, day trippers? Have a good wee look while I play you this dedication from all the folk on Ward 11 to all the nice residents of the surrounding community.” Campbell said and played Lazy Sunday. Y/N and her cousin went to leave but he grabbed on to her forearm gently and he quickly kissed her on the cheek and then giggled because of the excitement, being able to do that gave him.

She rose herself on her toe and kissed his nose, making him giggle again before sitting back down.

Y/N and her cousin went to rejoin the others, “He’s cute.” Her cousin said, “He your boyfriend?”

“Uh…”

“More importantly, is he a good guy. So soon after…” Her voice trailed off.

“He’s nothing like him. Campbell's like a walking ray of sunshine.” Y/N reassured her.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Y/n said, softly.

They joined as Francine did, “Rosalie! That bastard caretaker just said we have to unplug our gear at four o'clock. Everything's plugged intae the power point in his wee room and he's going to unplug us so as he can lock up.

“Oh, perfect, that's just perfect.” Eddie scoffed, annoyed.

“All right, Hector. You spilled them, so you can file them back.” Rosalie said.

“What about the requests?” Francine asked.

“Okay, everybody, no more requests between the letters A and H, you got that? Eddie, go and get us some electric.”

“What?!”

“Try the offices, try the ward. Here's a list of all the power supplies in the hospital. Now go!” Rosalie said, giving him a list.

“How does it have to be me?” Eddie whined.

“You think they're going to give their electricity to a loony? You've got five minutes.” Rosalie said.

“My show's about'ae start!” Eddie complained.

“There's not going to be a show without electric! Now go!” Then she snatched a collection tin from Francine and handed it to Eddie, “Bribe them if you need to.”

“C/N (Cousin's Name), go with him. Eddie, this is my cousin, now go!” Y/N pushed her cousin to leave with him.

“But who's gonna take his show?” Francine asked.

"Francine, this is your big moment." Rosalie told her.

"...Oh no!” Francine stressed and Y/N went to calm her down as Rosalie talked to Margaret

“I'm no gonna take the show! I'm not ready! Make Y/N do it.

“I’m a contestant! I’m number’s coming up.” Y/N protested.

Then Evylyn showed up with a woman they've never met, “Rosalie, I've got someone here I'd like you to meet.

“You're gonna have to wait your turn!”

“Does it look like we’re available to talk, Nazi-ette!?” Y/N shouted at her, “Mental patients are more capable and competent and compassionate than you are!”

Rosalie turned back to Margaret, “You see those stalls over there? There's a list of every stall and what they're selling. Go. Away you go and buy a fruitcake.”

“Rosalie! Are you listening to me?!” Francine shouted before Fergus came up to lead her away before she broke into hysterics.

“Well, that's just about all from me this afternoon—”

“Does I come before L or does L come before I?” Hector wondered.

“Dude, I don’t know, I have the mentally sing the alphabet in my head each time I open a dictionary!” Y/N complained.

“I comes before L.” Rosalie said.

“Rosalie, she's—” Evelyn tired again but was interrupted by Campbell running over to them.

“What happened to Eddie… and C/N?”

“They’ve gone in to find us some electric with. If he doesn't find it in the next two minutes, the caretaker's pulling the plug.”

“Th-they can't do this! Y/N and I haven't been a contestant in the Loony Pools yet!” He complained.

“But I can see the audience, Fergus!” Francine cried.

“You'll be fine.” He reassured her.

“Does S come before T?” Hector asked.

“Could you two help him with his alphabet?” Rosalie asked and Campbell and Y/N went to Hector.

The Caretaker arrived, looking like a grade-a douchebag, “Right! Your time's up! I'm locking up now!”

“If you pull that plug, you are pulling the plug on my whole career!” Campbell shouted at him, pointing at him but the caretaker was unmoved, “It's Open Day, for Christ's sake!”

“Don’t you dare crush his dreams! I’ll crush you!” Y/N shouted at the caretaker but he was still unmoved and unintimidated.

“Just another day for me, girlie.” The caretaker said.

Y/N lunched to attack him but Campbell pulled her back, helped with Y/n's cousin ran up, grabbing her cousin around the middle.

“Yeah, underestimating her isn’t a good idea.” C/N said, “Also calling her ‘girlie’.”

“We’ve got it. We've got it.” Eddie shouted and he swapped the plug into the power point they brought.

Campbell and Y/N went back to help Hector with the sorting again, “If "The" is the first word, should it no go into the Ts?

“The’s don’t count!” Y/N said to Hector as Campbell frustrated and annoyed, took the record out of his hand.

“Don’t blame him, Cams. He can’t help it.” Y/N scolded and gently bonked him on the head with a record.

“Y/N, GET UP ON STAGE! YOU’RE NEXT!” Rosalie screamed and Y/n and C/N ran up t the stage putting on their twenty-three and twenty-four markers.

“Hello! This is the Fabulous Francine. And it's time once again for the Loony Pools!

“So, get ready to mark your X for the second to last time as I give you contestants number twenty-three and twenty-four. This is Y/N L/N and C/N C/L/N, can you spot the loony?”

Y/N and her cousin were evenly tied in the round as Eddie made his way to his grandmother. “You decided to come.”

“Nope! I’m the loony!” Y/N called and then bowed in a silly manner before straightening back up, making her hair flip through the air.

“She’s a cute lass, the one with the h/c.” Eddie’s grandmother said.

Eddie gave her a look of horror, “Grandma, she’s eighteen.”

“Above the legal age.”

“She’s kind of with Campbell.” Eddie said as Y/N helped put Campbell’s marker on of twenty-five and cupping his cheek.

“Get ready to mark your X for the last time as I give you contestants number twenty-five and twenty-six.” Francine said.

“She is nice lassie.” Eddie’s grandmother said, referring to Francine.

“For the final time, can you spot the loony?”

“How you don't ask her for date?” She asked Eddie.

“She's the one I was telling you about, the new DJ I'm training.” Eddie told her.

“She doesnae look crazy!” Eddie’s grandmother gasped.

“Do I know that guy?” Eddie asked, referring to contestant twenty-six.

“Can we have one without the glasses, Mr. Milligan?” A photographer asked.

“Curse! I knew the disguise wouldn't work!” Spike Milligan said, taking off the sunglasses.

“Try acting loonier.” Campbell said in fake sotto.

“What? For that I want money!” Spike Milligan teased and the audience and Campbell laughed as Y/N got on stage and hugged Spike Milligan, “you’re lucky, my granddaughter-in-law likes you so much.

“What!?” Campbell exclaimed.

“Do you mind being asked to play "Spot the Loony", Mr. Milligan?” A photographer asked.

“No. No. I do not mind being asked to play Spot the Loony. But…” Spike Milligan said in a slow, silly voice before dropping the voice, “I object to being called Spot!”

“She did it! The wee bastard got Spike Milligan!” Eddie beamed.

When they took the picture of the “Looneys”, Y/N cupped Campbell’s cheeks and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, shocking him until his hands went loosely to her hips as he kissed back. This was going to be their first kiss forever.

That night Campbell laid in Y/N’s bed as they shared lazy kisses, smiling like idiots.

“So, does this mean we’re together?” He asked.

“If… if you want.” She said, shyly.

“Oh my god, yes.” He said, kissing her.

“My… my trauma doesn’t scare you?” She asked.

“Does mine?”

“Mine’s… different, Cam. I…”

“Shh, shh, you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.” He whispered, stroking her cheek, “we can just kiss.”

She gave him a smile and kissed him.

A few days later, they were in the studio while Fergus was out getting the newspaper.

“I'd like to thank all of you who turned out to support the team for Open Day on Saturday. And having raised a grand total of six-hundred-and-forty-three pounds and sixty-seven pence, plus an anonymous donation of five hundred pounds,” Eddie said into the microphone and Campbell fist bumped goofily and then gave Y/N a peck, having become very affectionate towards her since they started dating despite never having gone on a real date due to them being busy from the station and being patients in a mental institution, “from somebody with a lot of musical taste, we are still in business!”

Outside the studio, the patients applauded as the intro to the next song started, “I think you all deserve a big hand.”

Campbell took Y/N hands and swayed with her to the music before Fergus entered and he turned to him, excitedly, “Well?”

“We're in.” Fergus smiled.

“YES!” Campbell shouted, jumping up and down before grabbing Y/N’s hands and making her jump with him.

Fergus laid down the newspapers, “Daily Record, Evening Times, The Herald...”

Campbell picked up on and read the headline, proudly, “;Just a Pair of Loony Goons’!”

"‘Spike Milligan with Campbell Bain and Y/N L/N of Saint Jude's Hospital Radio’!” Eddie read.

“We've done it! We're on our way!” Campbell cheered as Y/N kissed his cheek before he turned his head and kissed her.

“Campbell, you are a genius.” Eddie said, ignoring this display.

“Genius? “ He turned to Rosalie as he threw the paper down, “She's the genius. Rosalie, we're on our way!” He excitedly went to hug Rosalie but she drew back and Campbell remembered and pulled back as well, “sorry.”

Rosalie debated with herself, mentally before pulling off one of her gloves and holding her hand out to Campbell as the others watched with interest before Campbell cautiously took Rosalie’s hand, shaking it.

Campbell delightedly then raked back his floppy hair and started dancing as Y/N, Francine, and Fergus joined in.

Y/N took over after Eddie and talked about a phone her cousin had given her to call in requests.

“Hey, what’s your request?” Y/N asked, cheerfully, high on the happiness Campbell positively exuded.

“Polly by Nirvana.” Said a low, whispery voice that chilled Y/N to her bones. “Did you get my letter, Polly?”

Y/N’s face paled and she suddenly bolted out of the studio, so Campbell took over.

After the show, Campbell entered Y/N’s room to find her sitting on her bed, staring at an open parcel when he walked over and he saw it was a copy of the newspaper with them on it, in red ink—or what she hoped happened to be some odd red ink that was somehow both dark and bright—was her face circled with Campbell's eyes crossed out and his face scribbled on. Above her circle said: I gotcha, babe. See you soon, Polly.

"Y/N/N, what's wrong?" Campbell asked, “Tell me what’s wrong? You sent you that?”

“He found me, Cam.” She cried, burying her face into his shoulder as he hugged her, protectively.

21 notes · View notes