#i'm just in a silly goofy mood and curious

[ghost-proofbaby]

so scarlet (it was maroon)

in which eddie gets everything he dreamed of - except you. based off of "maroon" by taylor swift.

→ warnings: smut, severe angst, hurt/no comfort, 18+ minors dni

→ pairings: rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

→ wc: 11.3k+

→ a/n: don't mind me, just trying to see if tumblr will let me finally post this. this is cross-posted from ao3 (and wattpad)

ao3

"When the morning came, we were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf 'cause we lost track of time again. Laughing with my feet in your lap, like you were my closest friend"

“You’re fucking with me,” Eddie sits up to stare at you, lit joint still dangling between his ringed fingers and the last of his latest hit lingering in a ghost of white smoke on his lips. 

“I’m not,” you laugh at his reaction, tilting your head forward just enough for where you were sprawled out on his bed to get a better view of him, “I’m scared to take cold medicine now.” 

“There’s no way you got high off of the recommended dose!” he cackles, shaking his head in disbelief, a hand coming down on your shin to ground himself. You watch his shoulders shake with laughter, how his curls come down to curtain around his reddening cheeks and his reddening eyes, how his doe eyes are pinched shut and crinkled in the corners.

A map of a million lifetimes, branching out from the corner of those eyes. A million lifetimes, a million possibilities, a million futures. And every single one of them begins and ends with Eddie. 

If you stare for too long, you’re going to say something you regret in your high, so you sit up as he had in order to snatch back the joint, “Stop babysitting. Aren’t you the one who’s always chastising me on ‘puff, puff, pass’?” 

He feigns offense, mouth wide open and face scrunched up adorably so, as you take a delicate hit. The smoke enters your mouth quickly, wasting no time as it barrels down your throat and curls into every crevice of your lungs. Your chest aches slightly at the intrusion. 

His eyes never leave yours. He watches the glaze continue to intensify over them as you slowly exhale. His thumb begins to trace gentle arches over the bare skin of your leg as his warm palm shifts upward, inching until it’s over your knee and resting on your thigh. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” 

“Learned from the best.” 

“That you did, sweetheart. That you did.” 

He holds his free hand back out for the joint, and your fingertips brush as you return it to him. 

“So what? Was it better than this kind of high?” he teases before bringing it to his lips. They’re pursed in preparation, and you only lose your concentration for a moment before remembering to answer him.

“I dunno, Munson. You’ve got some good shit here but… Dayquil might be giving you a run for your money,” you mock, tilting your head and leaning in closer to him. He’s grinning again, looking up through shy lashes before he takes his hit. 

This time he doesn’t exhale immediately into the cloudy air of the room. Instead, he takes you off guard as he shifts on the bed and pulls you closer. Soon enough he has you in his lap, draping one arm around your waist as he takes the hand not holding the joint and gingerly grabs your jaw. 

You already know the drill. You’re familiar with the process of his shotguns as his fingers tap your cheeks and you let your mouth fall slightly open, leaning to meet him halfway. He still doesn’t exhale, not until his lips have grazed over yours lightly, teasing before he finally seals the two of you together. The kiss is messy, as it always is with him; your tongue can’t differentiate between the taste of him and the taste of the smoke as he presses the kiss deeper. You’re not even sure you breathed in enough to capture any of it, but none of it feels like a waste as he’s biting your bottom lip, hands pulling your hips impossibly close. The joint is eventually discarded on one of the ashtrays on his bedside tables as you lose yourselves into each other. His nose presses itself into flat against yours between hot breaths. 

“We can’t-” you pull back, a trail of saliva chasing you before Eddie follows, capturing you in another kiss that you pull back from, “The joint-” another interruption with another desperate kiss, “The incense-”

“The incense will be fine, baby,” he insists, pouting slightly, “It’s not going to burn the house down.” 

He kisses you once more, wasting no time to fall backwards into his pillows and dragging you with him. For a moment, you’re straddling him, hovering over him, but he quickly turns and presses your back into his sheets before he’s rolling over on top of you, caging you in. You don’t mind it. You never mind him taking up your space, your breath, your mind. 

A hand comes up to rest on your neck as you take a moment to press both hands into his chest, forcing distance. His eyes snap wide open, and they’re shining like a dozen moons at once, even with his pupils blown out. 

“And if it does? It if does burn down the house?” you whisper, hands beginning to wander, one finding its way up and around the back of his neck, toying with the curls in its path. The other smooths over his shoulder, prepared to pull him back in impossibly close even without an answer. 

He’s looking down at you with all the love in all of Hawkins, in all of the world, as he smirks and answers, “Then I say let it burn.” 

"And I chose you, the one I was dancing with in New York, no shoes. Looked up at the sky and it was maroon."

Within a year of graduation, Eddie had made it very clear he wanted to get out of Hawkins. Corroded Coffin had been slowly but surely crawling their way to popularity outside of Hawkins, and when the moment was right, he came to you with an offer you couldn’t refuse. 

“Come with me. Move to New York. I know, it’s insane, but-”

“Yes.” 

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Was it ever really a question, Eddie?”

He was it for you, and so when he’d been prepared to beg you on his knees to move with him, it had been a no-brainer. You packed up all your belongings without second-thoughts, said goodbye to the town that never really deserved either of you, and started your life in a big city. 

The apartment was small and impossibly cramped, but the first night you two arrived, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if it was in the dingier part of town, or that you two were going to be penniless the next several months as you barely scraped by with rent. The moment you walked into that one-bedroom apartment, you knew it was yours, and you knew with certainty then that you had done it - you had escaped the bleary town and come out the other side. 

“Holy shit,” he sighs as he places down one of the last few boxes you’d brought with you amongst one of the several piles littering the living room. You’re sitting on top of one particularly sturdy stack of boxes, the top one serving as a seat most likely filled with your books from home. 

“Yeah,” you breath, looking around, completely stunned, “Holy shit.” 

Eddie turns in a full circle, almost as if he was drinking it all in, before he faces you once more. His face is a blank slate only for a second before the serendipity and sudden gaiety takes over his features. He’s unexpectedly running in your direction, arms wrapping around you and lifting you off the boxes as you squeal, swinging you around effortlessly. 

“We fucking did it!” he cheers over your giggles. When he finally finishes spinning you, letting your sock-clad feet find stability on the hardwood floors, he still doesn’t let you go. He only pulls you into his chest tighter, “We did it. We’re in New fucking York.” 

You smile brightly, pressing your cheek painfully against his t-shirt, nodding as you echo, “We did it.” 

The moment pauses as he pulls away as suddenly as he had picked you up, still radiating happiness.

“Hold on, wait here. I’ve got an idea.” 

He jogs over to one of the stacks of boxes at the entrance of the kitchen as you just laugh, “Not like I’ve got anywhere to run off to, Munson.” 

“You better not!” he calls over his shoulder, digging for whatever his brilliant idea was. 

You disobey him indirectly by wandering across the living room, steps slow and careful as you approach the large window offering a lackluster view. All you could see, for the most part, was the large brickwall of the neighboring apartment building. It was old and faded, scattered marks of paints from clear graffiti at random intervals. The city had clearly tried to wash away the few remnants of whatever art the random city vigilantes had covered it with, but the reminders of what once was remained. A nod to the fact that sometimes, no matter how hard you try to wash away things, their legacy lingers stubbornly. 

You don’t even hear Eddie setting up one of his old boomboxes with a favorite mixtape of the two of yours until it begins to play from the speakers, probably a bit more loud than you should have if you were attempting to be considerate neighbors. 

But neither of you cared. 

When you turn, you find Eddie approaching you steadily to the beat of the song playing. He takes a step with each beat, swaying his hips in clear exaggeration. 

He’s only several paces from you when he holds out a hand, grinning like a fool as he says, “Dance with me, sweetheart.” 

You take it, immediately. There’s not a trace of hesitation as you let the boy who held the sun in your eyes drag you across the barren living room, not even dancing to the beat but growing dizzy with love regardless. You let your own happiness mingle with his. As he spins you for the hundredth time, dipping you low and dramatically, you imagine that this is it - this is as good as it could possibly get. Because you’re with your boy, and you two are dancing to your own beat as the mixtape ends, and there couldn’t possibly be a more perfect person than him. 

He brings you back up to him as he stands up straight, and not a word is passed as lips crash together. An eager kiss, all teeth and revelations and silent promises of forever. It’s saccharine sweet as his tongue passes over your lips, begging for more closeness. Your chests are so tightly pressed together that with each breath he gasps in, you’re forced to exhale. 

“I love you,” he mutters, pulling back momentarily and staring into your eyes. His arms cradle you so carefully, as if scared that when he lets go, you’ll completely disappear from him, “I love you so goddamn much, it hurts. I can’t believe this is real.” 

“It’s real, so you better believe it, rockstar,” you reassure him, “Now shut up and kiss me.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he mutters, already so close to you that his lips brush against yours before he’s back on you, hot and heavy. 

You’re not sure how exactly it happens, or who first starts encouraging the steps taken towards the hallway, but you end up with your back against the wall as Eddie leans completely into you. You both feel drunk on each other, giddy on your current reality. After a particularly harsh tug on his hair, in sync with a yearning squeeze on your hip, he whispers ‘jump’ into your kiss. Hands find the back of your thighs, molding them into his knuckles as he carries you into the bedroom. 

The room is only filled with a few artifacts: boxes of both of your clothes, Eddie’s prized guitar propped up in one of the corners, and a mattress on the floor only covered in a comforter and no sheets yet. The afternoon light is golden as it flutters in through the open window, the sounds of the city muted by your breaths. 

He’s impossibly gentle as he lowers the two of you down onto the mattress, careful as he lets you unwrap your legs and flop back. Even with his carefulness, you find your own eagerness causing your movements to be too rough, bouncing back slightly and bumping noses with him. You both take a break to laugh. 

“Careful, you klutz,” he warns, balancing himself up on his forearms as he looks down at you in adoration. You don’t respond, instead lifting yourself to capture his lips in yours, pulling him down. Your teeth clash with his as you both continue to giggle into the open-mouthed kiss. 

He gives in, hands roaming as they slip below your tattered shirt you’d worn for the occasion of moving. His warm hands find home on your chest, squeezing softly and thumbs flicking your already pebbled nipples in order to pull gasps from you. He lets his head drop to your neck, his messy curls tickling your nose as he presses wet kisses down your jugular. Each kiss is in sync with the heavy beating of your heart. 

He stops when his path leads him down to your collarbone, sucking and nipping before releasing blooming skin to glance up at your face, twisted in euphoria. “This is real, isn’t it?”

His voice is so soft, you almost don’t hear him. But you look down at him, a boy made of contradictions - of sunshine and moonlight, of passionate and tender actions - and can only smile in serenity. 

“Yeah, it is.” 

It’s the only encouragement he needs to continue his worship, leaving no patch of supple skin unkissed. 

"The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me, and how the blood rushed into my cheeks. So scarlett, it was maroon."

It could have been hours later or days when you’d finally tired yourselves out. It took an impossible amount of willpower, but eventually, you two had untangled yourselves from each other, leaving the warmth of your comforter to continue unpacking.

Or rather, you were unpacking. Eddie had taken to stretching out on the bed, back propped up on the bare wall behind him with his guitar in his lap, strumming mindlessly as he watched you begin to pull your clothes from one of the boxes. You took your time, smoothing out any wrinkles that had formed during the move, focused as you hung your shirts on hangers and put them away into their home in your new shared closet. 

Eddie pauses whatever song he had been practicing when he catches sight of a particular shirt you pull from the box. 

It’s a white t-shirt. Nothing impressive, but what piques his interest is the splotch of once-red-now-maroon painting the center of the fabric. It’s faded, feathered at the edges, but he knows the story behind that stain all too well.

“You really kept that shirt? Even after I ruined it?” he chuckles, shifting his guitar off his lap, scooting towards the edge of the bed. 

You hold it up, laughing as well, taking in the stain that refused to wash out, “Yeah. Sentimental value or whatever,” you tease, looking down at him. You take his breath away like this, in nothing but his Judas Priest shirt that barely reaches your thighs, nothing but underwear on underneath, hair in tangles from your previous activities. But you’re glowing, a glow that he’s been lucky enough to witness on multiple occasions, and it takes everything in him to keep his hands to himself, “Never really wear it, though. Guess I should get rid of it, huh?” 

“No,” he answers you far too quickly, “Never. Keep it forever. We can frame it, hang it in the hallway.” 

You know he’s not serious, but the thought still makes you smile. You’d never really get rid of it, far too attached to the memories it held, even two years later.

Another Harrington party. Another sea of almost-adults getting far too drunk, far too rowdy. You’d been to your fair share of them, but they never really got easier.

There’s an excitement in the air you can’t place. Maybe it was from graduation, still nearly six months away but on the horizon nevertheless. Or maybe it was simply from the holiday - Halloween. Whatever it was, it buzzed through the air and across your chilled skin. 

Your costume was last minute. A half-assed attempt at a pirate costume. It had been thrown together with things you could already find in your closet, for the most part - one of your more flowy white t-shirts, black jeans you’d taken scissors to the knees of in an act of temporary rebellion, heavy boots originally bought for hiking. The only real clues as to what you were had been aiming to disguise yourself as were the cheap eyepatch and doltish pirate hat you’d bought when shopping with your friends for the occasion. But you’d long forgone your eyepatch as the alcohol impaired your vision well enough without the loss of use in one of your eyes. 

The hat was a cheap velvet-texture, deep maroon in color and an extravagant black feather barely holding on by the factory glue used to secure it. 

Your friends had long since abandoned you. One of them went off with a jock who had caught their eye, the other getting dragged into a very serious game of beer pong. It hadn’t bothered you too much - it had left you to your own devices, nursing a cup of whatever punch had been spiked in a dark corner of the kitchen. You watched your classmates trail in and out for their own dose of alcohol without much interest. Until he walked in. 

He was glued to the side of the host himself, Steve Harrington. You overheard a couple of scolding sentences coming from Steve’s lips, something about ‘cutting him off’ and how he needed to ‘compose himself’. It was entertaining, at the least, to watch the boy fumble with himself. 

“C’mon, you’ve got to have more whiskey around here somewhere, pretty boy!” he whined, leaning into Steve as he lost his balance momentarily. 

“No, Eddie! I mean it, you’re cut off! Now stay here or so help me God-” Steve appeared irritated, but was far more patient than you would have been as he carefully guided his friend to lean on the counter across the room from you. He left the room in a hurry, and you snickered under your breath as the predictable happened right before your eyes - once Eddie was left alone, he immediately began to pilfer for more alcohol. 

It takes him a second, to your amusement, before he reappeared from the lower cabinets he had crouched in front of, letting out a loud ‘Aha!’ with a bottle of red wine in hand. He wasted no time in digging through multiple drawers as if it were his own house before he found a corkscrew, and the entire time, your eyes continuously flickered to the entrance of the entrance, waiting until Steve returned and would catch his friend red-handed (literally). 

He never did, though. Eddie has enough time to begin struggling with the cork, curses and mutters falling from his lips as you watched on. You’re only pulled from your watchful gaze when you hear a loud pop, and hear a triumphant ‘Fuck yeah!’ from the boy. 

Maybe you thought you should intervene, considering you were clearly not as far gone as Eddie, but you weren’t quick enough. You’d walked up behind him, about to announce yourself and stop him, when he turned suddenly, a red cup in hand that was nearly overflowing with red wine. 

Eddie hadn’t expected you to be so close, hadn’t even realized he wasn’t alone in the kitchen. Immediately, the cup collided with your chest and the red wine sloshed down the front of your shirt. 

You gasped, jumping back slightly, as he cursed, “Oh, shit! Fuck, I’m so sorry.” 

Wide, brown eyes found yours, looking sincere in their apology. 

He looked around before grabbing a random kitchen towel, unfortunately also a starch white, and began to try and dab at your shirt clumsily. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you insisted as you felt your cheeks begin to burn. He continued to attempt to rectify the matter, clearly panicked. You have to eventually grab his wrists, pulling him and the now-ruined towel away. He looked back up.

It was almost like slow motion. His eyes met yours and you felt time stop. Your fingers stay pressed into his wrist, feeling the beat of his pulse, for far longer than necessary. 

“It’s fine,” you said once more, finally prying your grip from him. You might have been a little too drunk to care, and you’re sure that sober you would be disappointed in the comfortable t-shirt now being collateral damage, but for now, it didn’t matter. 

“I had no clue you were there. I’m- Fuck, I’m drunk. I’m an idiot. Sorry,” he slurred, looking down at you. 

You shrugged, playing it off, “Shoulda announced myself sooner. Don’t be sorry, it’s a problem for sober me.”

You really had liked that shirt. It was a shame. 

“You know, if you really wanted more alcohol, they still have punch left,” you jabbed a thumb over your shoulder, in the direction of the crystal bowl on the counter you had just been leaning on.

Eddie’s face scrunched up in disgust immediately, “Ew, God no. That shit’s way too sweet.” 

You bit your lip to fight laughter, “And wine is any better?” 

“It can be, when shared with someone as pretty as yourself,” he has a shameless, flirty grin on his features, raising his eyebrows suggestively at you. You broke, laughing softly and shaking your head. 

He had a point. The punch wasn’t very good. 

“Alright, then, mister ‘you’re cut off’. I suppose I’ll join you in your antics,” you turned to the sink, dumping the remnants of your punch before turning back to him and reaching for the bottle of wine he still held. 

His hand flew out of reach, tsking immediately, “Nope. Allow me.”

It wasn’t a good idea, but you let him take your now-empty cup regardless. He put it down on the counter and focused intently on filling it, nearly emptying the wine bottle as he topped it off just as full as his own had been. 

“Jesus, you’d make a shitty bartender. You’re definitely overpouring right now.” 

“Hush,” is all he replied as he finished the task at hand, setting down the empty bottle once he poured the last few drops into his own cup, attempting to make up for what was now soaking your shirt. It had started to dry, becoming cold and uncomfortably sticky, but you were too distracted with the boy in front of you to care. “M’lady,” he finally handed back the cup, looking far too proud of himself for not making another mess. 

“Thank you,” you teased, giving a messy and exaggerated bow, careful to not spill the wine. 

Once your glass is back in your own hand, his began to fumble into the pockets of the leather jacket he wore. It led to him spilling some more of his wine onto his own shirt this time, and you considered how lucky he was that he was wearing black. 

“Here,” you gave him no choice as you gingerly took the cup from his hand, freeing him up to find whatever it was he was so desperate to find in his pockets. You take the moment to glance over his costume: he was wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. On his face, a pair of small, circular sunglasses were perched haph-hazardly on his nose, the lenses a barely opaque red. You noted the obnoxiously long necklace swinging against his chest, a large silver cross at the end, “What are you even supposed to be dressed up as?” 

He yanked a pack of cigarettes successfully from his pocket, grinning like a fool, “Ozzy Osbourne. Duh.”

“Duh,” you mimicked, handing him back his cup of wine before turning more serious,“From Black Sabbath, right?” 

His eyes lit up. “You know Sabbath?” 

“A little bit,” you shrugged, but that was enough for Eddie. 

He slung an arm around your shoulders, cheesy grin and all, as he rattled the pack of cigarettes against your ear. “Say, you smoke?”

You didn’t, but for him, you did. “Yeah, yeah. I could use some fresh air anyways. Lead the way, rockstar.” 

"When the silence came, we were shaking, blind and hazy. How the hell did we lose sight of us again?"

“Eddie, you have to call them back and tell them you’ll do it!”

“No! I can’t!”

“You can and you will.”

The fight had started over Eddie’s casual mention of a phone call he’d had earlier that day. It had been six months of New York, of bliss, of living in a pattern of waiting. Every day, you were both waiting; waiting for the next show Corroded Coffin would book, waiting for the next chance he’d have to send off yet another demo to another record label, waiting for the shimmers of what could be his big break. It had been comfortable while it lasted - the two of you were still wrapping your head around having your own routine. Of having something that’s yours. 

The phone call today was the end of that waiting game. 

The management of a slightly larger band, extending an offer to Corroded Coffin - they wanted them to be the opener for their next tour. It wasn’t an overly large one, it hardly spanned over three months and most of the venues were painfully small compared to what you believed Eddie should be playing, but it was an offer. Gigs, travel paid for, an opportunity for exposure right at his fingertips.

He had told them no. 

“I’d have to leave. I’d be on the fucking west coast until December. I’d miss your birthday!” Eddie continues to argue. The two of you were standing in your living room, finally filling out. Shelves had collected framed photos, small knick-knacks that partially came from you and partially came from Eddie. You finally had a couch. It wasn’t a nice one, but it was a couch and it was yours. Something that belonged to both of you.

“You’d be playing shows! Selling merch! Gaining fans! This is your chance. Who cares if you’re not here for my birthday? We can celebrate over the phone, who cares?” your voice was breaking from frustration, not understanding how Eddie isn’t more excited. Instead of the joy you had expected to find on his face when he revealed the news to you, all you could see was fear. He was petrified. You finally drop your voice, taking on a soothing tone as you step in front of your boyfriend, taking his face in shaking hands, “Eddie, I’ll have other birthdays. But this? If you don’t do this… there might not be other tours.”

You could feel tears building up, some from exasperation, but most for the boy in front of you. This was his chance. He was your entire world, and you couldn’t let it pass him by. 

He has tears mirroring in his own eyes, searching your face frantically, “I… I don’t want to be away from you. Not right now, not when we’re just figuring all this shit out.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you tearily laugh, “Where would I even run off to, huh? No, stop this bullshit - don’t be an idiot. You go pick up that phone right now and tell that band they have an opener, and a damn good one at that. Right now.” 

He’s frozen, leaning his cheeks into your touch, eyes fluttering closed. He just wants to live in this moment. He doesn’t want to think about the enormity of the decision in his hands - he just wants to stay here, in your arms, in the space you two had come to call home. 

When your thumb swipes one of his escaped tears from his cheek, he caves. His voice is a ghost of a whisper. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll go call them. But- But when I get back, we’re celebrating the hell out of your birthday, do you understand me? Fuck Christmas, Jesus has had, like, thousands of birthdays. When I get back, all I care about is you.” 

You believe him. You believe him with your entire being, never once worrying about him missing something as trivial as the celebration. 

“We sure will. Now go on, rockstar. Catch your big break.” 

He finally smiles for the first time since he broke the news.

At the moment, all you saw was a world full of beginnings for your boy. This was it, the moment you’d been waiting for, and you couldn’t have been happier for him. The rose-colored glasses never gave you the chance to see it was the beginning for the two of you - the beginning of the end. 

"Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us. I feel you, no matter what."

“I miss you.”

Those three months couldn’t have dragged on slower if they tried. But Eddie kept good on his word; every night, like clockwork, he called you. The two of you would take about anything and everything: he’d tell you about the latest crowd that included people who seemed to actually enjoy Corroded Coffin’s set, you’d tell him about the takeout you had for dinner after nearly burning your shared kitchen down, he’d mention the names of cities you could only dream of visiting, and you’d indulge him in theatrically stories of your latest customers from Hell at the small dinner you waitressed at. 

“I know you do. I miss you too, Eds,” you sigh over the line, curled up on his side of the bed, even though it had finally stopped smelling like him. Long gone were the scents of late night cigarettes and woodsy cologne, replaced by a nauseating sweetness of your own shampoo and perfume. You hated it, but you’d never let him know that. Not when he seemed to actually be so happy. His breakdown over the offer seemed to fickle now, as it was clear he was enjoying himself. He was living out his dream. Something neither of you had fully processed yet. 

“Hey, just two more weeks, right?” you whisper, eyes staring into the shadows across the room. Two more weeks. Fourteen days, and he was all yours once more.

It was your birthday. And it had been the most lonesome to date - a few coworkers had convinced you to go out for drinks after closing up the diner, but the entire time, you had just been anxious to get home and prepare for your phone call with Eddie. Just as the two of you had said, you had committed to somewhat celebrating over the phone. 

“Do me a favor. Go into the kitchen real quick,” his voice instructs over the line, and you perk up slightly. 

“What? Why?” 

“Just trust me, sweetheart.”

You do as he asks, making your way out of the bedroom and down the hall. The apartment is dark, and a bit cold, but you don’t pay it any mind as you make your way to the kitchen. 

“Okay, I’m in the kitchen. Now what?” 

“The drawer to the left of the fridge. Open it.”

“Our junk drawer?”

“Yes, the junk drawer,” his tone is teasing, never growing irritated with your endless questions, “Open it.”

You hadn’t really touched the drawer since Eddie left, normally only discarded random pens and junk mail filling it. But you're shocked when you find the drawer more organized than you remember it - and in the center of it is a pack of candles.

“Candles?” you ask softly, a smile playing at your lips as your free hand reaches down to grasp the package. You flip it around in your palm, heart warming at the notion, but still feeling confused, “Babe, I appreciate it, I really do, but I don’t exactly have a cake, or even a cupcake, to put these in. 

“You don’t? Damn it. If only I had thought of that,” he hums in a teasing tone, making you lower the hot phone from your ear and glare down at his caller id that illuminates the screen, “Well. What a shame. Hey, do you know the time by chance?” 

“Munson, I’m gonna kick your ass,” you mutter, turning to look at the clock over your oven, “It’s 7:59. What’s your game here?” 

He doesn’t answer, leaving you further puzzled, instead mumbling what sounds like to himself, “Three, two-”

“Why are you counting down?”

“One.” 

A loud knock echoes through the apartment, causing you to jump. 

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” you hiss over the line, gripping the candles impossibly tight. 

“Go answer the door.”

“If you’re on the other side of it, I’m kicking you straight in the-”

“It’s not,” he interrupts, “I wish it was, sweetheart. It’s not. But just trust me, yeah? One last surprise, promise.”

You grumble your entire way to the door, still holding the package of candles as you stop in front of your front door. You pause, taking a deep breath. 

“That doesn’t sound like you’re opening the door.”

“Give me a second. Jesus, for all I know, you hired a hitman and I’m about to be brutally murdered when I open this door,” you bite back, and you can hear his guffawing laughter over the line. Your chest burns, wishing you could hear it in person instead, imaging the glee on his face in the moment. 

“Not a hitman. That’s for after we have life insurance, baby,” he drawls, and you finally muster the nerve to reach out and twist the knob. You swear you can hear chattering on the other side of the door. 

It takes you some struggling as you refuse to let go of the candles, but when you finally swing the door open, you gasp. 

There in the threshold stands your friends from Hawkins. Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, and Johnathan Byers. It’s clear that Nancy and Steve are mid-argument when you open the door, but Robin stands there, proudly showcasing a birthday cake in front of her, shit-eating grin on her face. 

“Surprise!” she yells, capturing the attention of the rest of the gang that you and Eddie had left behind. Everyone faces you now, beaming, as you immediately go teary-eyed. 

“Oh my God,” you gasp out, dropping the phone and candles to the floor, in shock. Steve steps in first, chuckling as he pulls you into a hug. It’s only then that you notice the bouquet in one of his hands, cellophane crinkling from how tightly he’s holding you. He shuffles the two of you out of the way just enough so that everyone else can enter. 

“Your face! God, Munson was right, that was so worth it!” Robin barks as she steps up to the kitchen table and sits down the cake. She’s the next to hug you, yanking you out of Steve’s grasp and nearly crushing you, “Happy birthday,” she whispers happily into your ear, swaying the two of you as she continues to embrace you. You catch sight of Steve over her shoulder, wearing a look of amusement, chuckling and shaking his head. 

Jonathan is the one with half a mind to pick up your abandoned phone and candles at the sound of muffled yelling over the line. He wastes no time, putting Eddie on speaker.

“Hellooo? World’s best boyfriend here, remember me? Wow. Can’t believe you’ve already forgotten me. Guess I’ll go fuck myself.” 

You laugh as Robin finally lets you go, reaching up to swipe away the tears of jubilation.

Nancy rolls her eyes. “She’s in shock. Give her a second, Munson.” 

Jonathan continues to hold your phone as you’re passed into Nancy’s arms and then his. Each whisper their own soft ‘happy birthday’, rubbing your back gently until your focus is back on the phone.

“Edward Munson-”

“Ah! There she is! She lives! And remembers me!”

“Fuck off,” you half-sob, half-laugh. It may not have been as good as him standing there, on your doorstep and embracing you, but it was damn good, “You’re so dead when you get home.” 

“Dead? Wow. Weeks of planning only to meet my demise,” he sighs dramatically, “I suppose it’s a good way to go. At the hands of the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Beat that, Harrington.” 

“Way to stay humble,” Steve chimes at the mention of his name, still grinning. He suddenly remembers the flowers in hand, suddenly thrusting them in your direction as he says, “From Eddie, by the way. He told me if we didn’t get you flowers, he’d castrate me.”

“And I meant it! That’s still on the table if you guys don’t make this her best damn birthday ever.” 

“I’m sure he would,” you sniffle, reaching out and gripping the flowers. Your heart cracks slightly, not knowing how to tell him that despite how absolutely endearing the surprise had been, it’d be impossible for them to make this your best birthday.

He wasn’t here. It could only make the top of the list if he were here. 

You feel no resentment, though, as you bring the flowers to your nose, smiling until your cheeks ache. “Red carnations. Pretty,” you hum, lost in the moment. 

There’s a beat of silence before Eddie’s voice rings out across the room.

“Carnations? Harrington, I said red roses. You’re a dead man walking.”

"And I lost you, the one I was dancing with in New York, no shoes. Looked up at the sky and it was maroon." 

Once Eddie returns home, it’s just as he promises - he almost doesn’t even make it through the door when his lips find yours at 3 AM, his suitcase thrown off somewhere to the side of your entryway. He’s too busy to care about anything else but you at the moment. 

“Fuck,” he gasps between kisses, “I fucking missed you. God, I missed you.” 

You’re silent as you nod in agreement against him, just eager to feel his touch once more. You’d waited three months too long for this moment, ever since he first left through that door for the tour. 

“Needy, baby?” he teases, just as breathless as you are when the two of you finally pull apart, him kicking the door shut behind him. Your hands are grabbing weakly at the lapels of his jacket, too eager to be embarrassed, “God, always so needy for me. Just how I fucking like you.” 

He’s always talkative, even during sex, but you have no patience for it tonight. “Shut up.”

“Aw, now that’s no way to greet your boyfriend you missed, is it, baby?” he eggs you on, looking down at you and your swollen lips with a wicked grin. 

You open your mouth to snark back, but he refuses to give you the chance before he’s picking you up, lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Eddie!” you shriek, but laughter laces the protest. Your hands grip the back of his t-shirt as he begins to walk down the hallway, and you start to kick your feet out of defiance, but a sharp smack sounds through the quiet apartment as he playfully slaps your ass, putting an end to the kicks.

“Yeah, you better warm up those vocal chords,” he chuckles. The moment you’re back in your bedroom, he’s quick to toss you onto the mattress, finally mounted on a frame. The comforter flares around you, your head sinking into a pillow as Eddie is quick to remove his jacket and shirt, climbing up the bed between your legs, “Gonna have you chanting my name like a goddamn prayer, sweetheart.” 

He removes your pajamas as he has a thousand times before, but it still doesn’t feel fast enough. You find yourself squirming, trying to help him pull off the flannel pants and t-shirt you’d stolen from his side of the closet, but he stops all movements immediately.

He shakes his head, hovering above you, his hair like a curtain around the two of you as your top lip brushes his bottom one and his mint breath fans over your face. “Slow it down for me, yeah? Wanna enjoy this,” he murmurs. 

You obey, stilling below him save for your chest, rising and falling rapidly with waiting breaths. He finally dips down, his pick necklace tickling your collarbones as his mouth covers yours. 

A culmination of three long months is spent into the kiss. All the restless nights, long phone calls, endless yearning. You can tell that he had missed you, longed for you, just as much as you had him. 

It’s languid, the way your body reacts to each of his touches. As far as it was concerned, no time had passed. He does as he had said, taking his time, savoring each kiss he presses down your throat and over your breasts. He’s memorizing each crevice of you, every soft curve he’d dreamt of for 91 days. 

Your squirming resumes when his hot breath reaches your navel, but he doesn’t scold you, bringing his hands to your hips and pressing them down into the mattress. “Let me show you just how much I missed you. Let me take care of you, baby.” 

He’s enjoying it, the sound of your whines a better soundtrack than any of the music that had damaged his eardrums during the tour. His fingers dance over your bare skin, skimming right over the band of your underwear and tracing lines down your thighs. It’s agonizing - the waiting is terrible. 

Terribly worth it, as it turns out.

When he finally decides to speed up his teasing, bringing a finger to brush across your clothed slit, you gasp. Your hands twist into the sheets at each side of you, but he isn’t having it. 

“Now that’s not where those belong,” he mumbles, a hot breath over your panties sending shivers down your spine. He’s quick - his fingers suddenly hook into the waistband, and he’s pulling them down and off over your ankles with an eagerness finally matching your own. He throws them aimlessly to the bedroom floor, joining the rest of your discarded clothes recklessly. Neither of you care - you won’t be needing them the rest of the night. 

He settles into the mattress, a leg thrown over each of his shoulders before he grabs your hands and guides them to tangle into his hair. He’s still taking his time, sucking his way up your inner thighs and leaving flowering bruises in his wake. Once he reaches where you want him to most, where you’re aching for him so pitifully, he pauses.

He repeats his earlier words, “God, I’ve missed you.”

He takes you by surprise as he dives right in, tongue flattening and licking a long stride up, starting at your entrance. His nose bumps over your clit before his tongue begins to dance circles, painting a secret language between the two of you over the sensitive bundle of nerves. One of his hands joins him, middle finger circling your entrance slowly before he presses in. He sets a pace quickly, pumping the finger a few times, tongue working magic, before he adds a second one. They curl with intention, pressing into the spongy spot of your walls that he knew like the back of his hand. It’s the exact spot that makes your back arch off the bed.

He pulls back his mouth, fingers continuing to pump and curl vigorously as he looks up at you dreamily. He eases one of his arms over your hips, pressing down, holding you in place. 

He’s a dream. A goddamn dream. He’s finally here, looking up at you, grinning like a Devil as he watches you unravel at his hand. 

“So pretty. Always so, so beautiful, but especially like this,” he says more to himself, but you hear him, a moan falling from your lips. His mouth returns to you, lips latching onto your clit, sucking harshly. 

“Fuck,” you breathe into the still air of your apartment room, not caring if the neighbors hear but your chest too heavy to grow much louder, head fuzzy and all-consumed by him, “Eddie.”

He was right. His name falls from your mouth in pants, chanting to him as if he were your God. 

It only spurs him on, fingers working expertly as he alternates between sucking and lapping at your clit. You can hear how wet you are for him, how close you are before the knot forms in your abdomen. 

“Oh my God- Oh, fuck. Right there,” your hips buck involuntarily into his face, and he loosens his grip on your hips, letting you, “I’m gonna…G-Gonna…”

“Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he encourages, fingers curling harshly, “Cum on my face, baby. Do it.”

He puts his tongue back to work, You force your eyes open to catch sight of him, buried in your pussy, admiring how pretty he looked from this angle. The sight of his tousled curls, twisted tightly in your grip as you yank mercilessly, is all it takes for you to finally come undone. 

A broken prayer, repeated over and over as a warmth rushes over you. Your vision goes white, eyes tightly screwed shut, toes curling and thighs clenching over his ears. It doesn’t phase him, continuing his assault until he’s sure you’ve come down. You have to tug on his hair, more intentional this time, to pull him away from you due to how sensitive you grow. 

He rises, letting your legs fall limply against the mattress as he wears a boyish grin on his slick lips. Slowly, he makes his way up to you, back to the virtues of patience as he takes his time to finally kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue, a bitter sort of sweetness, as he cradles your face. 

“You good?” he gently asks against your lips. You can barely move, nodding lethargically.

“So good,” you croak, a smile breaking out. Your eyes crack open to see him looking down at you with pure adoration, “I missed you.”

You start to run your hand down his chest, reaching the zipper of his jeans before his hand stops you.

“No, not yet. We’ve got plenty of time for that. Just wanna hold you right now, baby,” he nearly pleads. You can’t deny him, not with his eyes shining like that, so you allow him to fall into place on his side of the bed before you curl up against his bare torso. 

The two of you stay that way for what feels like hours, his arms wrapped around you as he traces out constellations on your bare shoulder blades. Just outside of your solace, a bubble you’ve trapped yourselves in, you can hear the faint call of the city. Honks from cars on the street, shouts from pedestrians, the occasional siren. It’s all background noise to this moment. 

“I have something for you,” he suddenly whispers as you teeter on the edge of sleep. You hum in response, lifting your head lazily. He pats you gently, signaling for you to let him stand before he walks to his discarded jacket by the door. When he returns to your side, he's gripping a small, white box, tied with a scarlet ribbon. 

“A gift?” you ask, excitement helping wake you up as you sit up quickly, “For me?”

“For you,” he affirms, taking a seat beside you. Your knees bump as your hands fumble to take the box from him. A soft glow from one of the restaurants on your street floods between the curtains and into the room, a soft neon pink illuminating your features as you carefully unravel the red ribbon. 

As the silk falls, you hardly can contain your excitement before lifting the lid off the box. 

A necklace. 

Your eyes trace over it, already fawning with appreciation for your boy, but then you catch sight of exactly what the necklace is. 

“Your mom’s ring?” you can’t hide the emotion that shakes the timbre of your voice. It cracks into a million pieces. 

At the end of the delicate silver chain, sits his mother’s ring. The one you hadn’t even noticed missing from his barren right hand. 

“Happy birthday,” he whispers, pulling you in and pressing his lips into your temple. You’re still too stunned, too overcome with a million and one feelings all at once.

“Eddie… I- I can’t… this is-”

“I want you to have it. I think she’d want you to have it, too,” he insists, taking the box from your grasp and lifting the necklace from its cotton cushion, “I know it’s not a lot, but I just… I wanted to get you something that let you know how important you are to me. Something for you to always have as a reminder that I’ll come back to you. You’re it for me, sweetheart. This is- this is real to me. The kind of real that lasts forever.” 

You can tell he’s growing emotional, too, as his feather light touch brushes your hair to the side, bringing the necklace up around your neck and clasping it securely. When the ring falls to its new home at the base of your neck, cool against your skin, you can feel tears falling. He’s quick to swipe them away, his own watery irises peering into yours. 

“You’re everything to me,” he says this with vindication. With such assuredness it terrifies you, burrows into your bones and claims you. 

In this moment, you know he has forever stained you. There was no washing this mark he has left you off - there would forever be a piece of your heart occupied by the brown-eyed boy in front of you. 

All you can do is lean forward, hands gingerly threading through his bangs as you push them back to plant a kiss on his forehead. A crimson blush spreads across his cheeks and neck at the act of tenderness. 

When you pull back, he immediately lifts his fingers to the necklace he’s just gifted you, fingers careful but determined as they tug you back to him, kissing you with everything in him. He pours his soul, his body, and his heart into it. 

“I love you,” you exhale against his swollen lips. 

“And I love you.” 

You believe him, because he believes himself. That’s the thing about endings - no one sees them coming. 

"The mark they saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones, the lips I used to call home. So scarlet, it was maroon."

The next year proves you right. After that tour, Corroded Coffin became a phenomenon. A record deal falls into the boys’ laps quickly, multiple one-off shows selling out locally before the news finally comes that they are officially in the position to record their debut album. 

The two of you celebrate with cheap wine, but it’s as sweet as champagne in your contentment. 

The recording of the album is brutal. Night after night, you attempt to wait up on Eddie, eventually falling victim to drowsiness before he would wake you with his arrival from the studio in the early hours of the morning. You never minded, only happy for his warmth as he crawled right into bed with you, collapsing into you and letting the world melt away. 

Long gone are the days of struggling paycheck-to-paycheck as the boys’ can hardly keep up with printing enough shirts for their shows, merchandise selling out in the handfuls. 

You catch sight of a young girl wearing one of their shirts one day in the grocery store, and can’t help the flood of pride that overtakes your chest. Your boyfriend, your Eddie, was finally having all of his dreams come to fruition; the world was finally seeing him as the rockstar you’d nominated him as since that first night. 

You can tell that it’s tiring. Eddie is exhausted by the time the album is finished, but you can also sense the satisfaction he felt at finally completing it. When the first demo arrived, he wasted no time in electing you to be the first to listen to it. It was an entire ordeal - the two of you ordered your favorite take-out, curling up on your couch and pressing together as the same boombox that had played that mixtape on your first night in your home now plays his songs. 

Your reaction was exactly as he had expected, as he had hoped for. 

You had always been his number one cheerleader through it all. With each new song, you were gushing to him with admiration and reverence. Pointing out lyrics that tugged particularly taut on your heartstrings, praising the guitar solos and vocals he’d worked tirelessly to perfect. You don’t leave a single stone left unturned, claiming this was your new favorite album.

“Careful, sweetheart. You’re really stroking my ego here,” he warns, but his smile shines as brightly as your own. 

“Eddie, this is… this is… it’s fucking incredible!” you cheer, completely at a loss for words. You weren’t exaggerating - to hear all of his hard work paying off, to have watched him grow from covering Metallica in a stuffy garage to this left you starstruck. You were in absolute awe. 

He blushes, playing with his hair and bringing it up to hide his emotional reaction. 

The album could fail. It could become nothing more than a whisper in the night, but the fact that you liked it was all that mattered to him. 

You look at him earnestly, taking his cheeks in your warm and soothing palms, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds.”

And you were. You continued to be. The album was a hit. 

It climbed the charts with ease, just as you expected. Local alternative stations played it on loop. You were sure to hear it at least once during taxi rides, and had even heard it playing softly over the speakers at the gas station on the corner by your apartment complex. Eddie had been with you, and took pleasure in getting to inform the cashier that it was his song playing, his band was on the radio. 

It was New York, so the cashier couldn’t have cared less, but it made you glow with pride. 

But with a hit album came a new slew of responsibilities for the band, including a headlining tour.

The night that the band’s manager called Eddie, informing him they were set to start planning the tour, he’d run into the room, so frantic you were worried something bad had happened. 

“Holy shit!” he yells, causing you to shush him once you recovered from the scare he’d caused you. He ignores you, grabbing you off the bed, lifting you up and spinning you, just like the very first night, “Holy shit! We’re going on tour! A headlining tour! I’m going to be a goddamn rockstar!”

Once you process his news, you become just as animated in his arms, “What? No fucking way!”

“Yes fucking way!”

“Oh my God!”

“I know!”

You hear banging on the wall from the neighbors, probably shouting at the two of you to quiet down, but neither of you can contain your excitement.

“I’m going to be a goddamn rockstar, baby,” he laughs deliriously, placing you back down so that you’re face-to-face with him, “A rockstar.” 

“You’ve always been a rockstar, pretty boy,” you giggle, cheeks sore with elation, “The rest of the world is just finally getting the memo.”

The planning takes a while. Part of you is grateful, selfishly drinking in and enjoying the time you have left with him before you’re sure he’ll have to leave for an extended period. The names of cities you had never had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with once again enter conversations, talks of how far and wide the band would travel becoming Eddie’s favorite topic. 

You’re proud of him, you really are. But reality seeps its way into the crevices. 

What starts as the possibility of a brief, three month tour - something the two of you had already faced and defeated triumphantly - quickly turns into six months. And it doesn’t stop there. Six months could become eight, easily, with adding in a few pit stops to radio stations to guarantee continued radio-play. There’s talks of signings, of meet and greets, of music festivals. The more time given to planning, the more time given for the band’s popularity to grow even more. 

The entire thing expands without consideration, lifting Eddie right up with it, right out of your reach. 

The night before he’s set to leave for tour, your anxieties are getting the best of you. You had helped him pack, going over the list of necessities with him three times too many. He had everything he needed, packed tightly into a suitcase - everything except you. 

That night, you sit on your side of your shared bed, watching Eddie pace with excitement. You feel guilty that your own anticipation can’t quite match his. All you can think about is how long he’ll be gone: eight months, two hundred and forty five days. Five thousand, eight hundred and eighty hours. Over three hundred thousand minutes. You’d done the math. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, finally throwing himself down onto the bed beside you, “I still can’t believe this is happening.” 

You can’t bring up your insecurity, your fears, to him. Not when he’s so happy. Not when he’s finally getting everything he’d dreamt about for so long, worked so hard for. No, it would be selfish to share your unease at the time and distance about to spread between the two of you.

Besides, you had done it once before. Not on this scale, of course, but you convinced yourself it would work out all the same. He would call as often as he could. He’d be coming home to you. It would pass - it would work out. 

“It’s real, so you better believe it, rockstar.”

An echo of the past. A time that felt so far away from the two of you now. This time around, as you say them, you don’t feel the same joy coating your tongue. 

Your tone is supportive, so Eddie doesn’t taste any of the disdain. Later that night, as he’s kissing you, hips rolling to meet yours in a sacred promise, fingers intertwined in yours as you pant each other’s names back and forth, he still doesn’t taste it. All he tastes is euphoria. And he brings you right to it with him, over, and over, and over again. 

Euphoria tastes metallic by the end of it. 

He leaves bruises painted up and down your neck, covering your collarbones and chest like an art piece hanging in the Louvre. You can’t help but wonder how long it will take for his marks to fade, for the physical reminder that he was here and in your arms to disappear from your grasp. 

As he makes love to you, it begins to feel like a goodbye, because it is. 

He doesn’t mean for it to happen, but it does. 

The first month follows similarly to how his first tour did. Nightly phone calls, whispered love confessions and discussions of each other’s day. For a moment, you convince yourself that all of your fears and anxieties had been silly. They almost recede from your mind completely, fading with his love marks on your collarbone. 

But then it begins.

Phone calls become less frequent. Every night because every other night, until they’re eventually weekly. At some point, you only have the privilege of hearing his voice over the line monthly. It is a slow burning fire, turning everything you had built with him to ashes. Conversations that once could drag on for hours turn to ten minute discussions that end in him rushing off the phone, someone on the other end of the line demanding his attention more urgently than you did. 

You can’t even fight it. You need him, but they need him more.

You know you’ve lost him when he stops saying he loves you. It’s subtle, you don’t even believe he’s noticed, but one night’s phone call is cut particularly short, and the end arrives.

“Hey, baby, I’m sorry, but they need me for soundcheck,” he says, the line staticky with white noise, making it hard to hear him. 

He’s never felt farther away, and they’re not even on the west coast leg of the tour yet. 

“Oh,” you whisper, disappointment gripping your lungs, “Oh, that’s fine! Go, they need you.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. You miss hearing that in person, that soft laughter in the shell of your ear over inside jokes and one too many glasses of wine. “Rockstar duties and all. We’ll talk more later?” 

“Of course. Go give ‘em, Hell,” you keep your tone light, but the tears have started to build up across your waterline, “I love you.” 

The line goes dead before you can even finish your sentence. The dial tone echoes back to you, and it doesn’t matter how hard you strain, no words of affection can be deciphered in its deafening ringing. 

That’s when you break.

The flood comes, tears racing down your cheeks as you roll over and clutch the pillow that you’re not even sure was once his. The bed no longer has a clear boundary, a side that belonged to him and a side that belonged to you. It’s all muddled together now. You’re not even sure you’d recognize the smell of his cologne now.

A heart has never broken so quietly. The sobs are there, but no sounds escape your mouth as you whimper. You had always known it would be hard, everyone had warned you, but you had always assumed you could take it, because Eddie would be by your side, hand slotted with yours as it was the two of you against the world. But now you stood in the storm, and the space beside you was eerily empty. It was all a bit much. A gaping hole forms in your chest that night, gory as it bleeds scarlet red for a boy a world away, and you know that there is not a single bandage in the world to heal it.

He doesn’t call back after that, and the hole tears larger. 

There’s a few texts here and there. But none of them ever say the three words you so desperately crave from him. You feel like strangers. 

After two months of radio silence, save for two text messages from him, you’ve made up your mind.

He never calls, so you never tell him. You gather what belongings can be called solely yours, which isn’t many, and you write a letter in your cowardice. You find an apartment on the other side of town. There’s a nice job waiting for you, something that pays better than waitressing. 

You leave your key on the kitchen counter beside a vase with wilted carnations. 

"I wake with your memory over me, that’s a real fucking legacy (it was maroon)."

Six months later, the ache never fades. He calls. When he returns from tour to find an empty apartment, cursive letter calling it quits, he calls. You almost consider changing your number at one point. 

There’s a flood of text messages. Small letters on a shining screen filled with all the words you needed to hear so many months before. All of the things he should have said, now revealed too late. 

You don’t reply, because if you reply, you’ll change your mind.

You tell yourself it’s for the best. That in order for him to achieve what he’d wanted, he couldn’t have someone back home weighing him down. You were a road bump on his path to everything he was destined to be, and this was for the best. 

At some point, he gets the message. You wish he hadn’t, selfishly so, but he does. The phone calls stop. The text messages don’t light up your phone at midnight anymore. You keep up your end of the lease on your once-shared apartment, sending checks to pay your half of the rent until the lease agreement has ended. You have no clue if he moves. Returning to that side of town would simply hurt too much. 

A new normalcy is found. It is a lonely one, but it is one all the same. Sparse phone calls are still exchanged with your friends from Hawkins, but none of them ever bring up Eddie. You’re sure they know, that he had told them, that they had witnessed the aftermath (if there had been any). They were always his friends first, though, and so when the calls dwindle, it doesn’t surprise you. 

It’s a year later when someone mentions his name to you. You had kept up well enough with Corroded Coffin, the last remnants of your past life being something you couldn’t get rid of. You knew they were thriving; they were in the talks of releasing a second album, and going back on tour soon. His name is mentioned when a coworker brings him up. 

They ask you if you want to attend the Corroded Coffin show with them next week. They have a spare ticket and would prefer to not go alone. 

You lie and say you have plans.

But the only plans you have on that bustling night are the ones spent in your apartment. Your one-bedroom apartment is in a nicer part of town, better views out of the window now. When you pull back the curtains, you don’t find a brick wall forever tainted by what once was - you can see the entrance to a music venue that’s sign currently advertises tonight’s show. 

CORRODED COFFIN, ONE NIGHT ONLY - SOLD OUT

You avoid the window at all costs as you get yourself ready for bed that night. Neighbors had already off-handedly warned you it would be a noisy night, claiming you’d feel as if you were at the show yourself based on proximity. On your way home from work, you bought earplugs. 

But the night grows older, a chill in the air as the clock strikes ten, and you can’t help it. You’ve been laying in bed for hours now, earplugs in, only feeling the faint thrumming of intense bass for less than an hour when you finally stand up. You approach the window timidly, scared of what you find. Maybe a ghostly reflection of him, standing in the street, holding up a boombox playing a mixtape of your favorite songs. 

It’s a bitter hopefulness that is full of childish dreams. 

When you stand in your window, curtains pulled back and earplugs finally disregarded on your nightstand, Eddie Munson isn’t standing on the street. All that is there is the neon glow of a red sign that shatters crimson shadows across your cheeks. 

He’s not on the street. He’s too busy on the stage inside, being the rockstar he had always been destined to be. The one he could be now that you had let him go.

All that you see as you look out the window is your own tired reflection, donning nothing but a wine-stained t-shirt and a delicate, silver chain around your neck, a ring you couldn’t bring yourself to return resting heavily between your collarbones. 

"That’s a real fucking legacy to leave."

reblogs, likes, and comments appreciated! <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #oooo look at me trying to post this several months later #and at 2 am no less #i'm just in a silly goofy mood and curious #will it post? will it stick? will it get me thrown in shadow jail? #time will tell! #also i made that divider myself i'm very proud of myself #formatting is bad but hey #it is what it is!

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Tough Work - Bang Chan ‗ ❍

Pairing : Bang Chan x f Reader

Summary : Bang Chan gets his plans ruined yet again by a late notice schedule and he's pissed. His friends call his girlfriend to the rescue to calm him down before he punches his laptop.

Word count : 3.2k

Warnings/tags : a little angst at the beginning, Chan is an emotional mess, swear words, smut (ONLY 18+), sex on a desk chair, unprotected sex (don't be silly goofy y'all), use of pet name baby, baby girl.

A/n : I had some inspo (not gonna tell you eheh) + it's the holiday season so yeah why not! Let's slut the holidays away🤣🙏🏻 merry Xmas pookies 🤎Also be KIND it's my first full written fic since like...august or sumn

masterlist

ps: No Beta'd. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy!

♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 When Hyunjin called you, it definitely came as a surprise. It was around five pm and you were doing absolutely nothing except chill on the couch watching a movie on your (very deserved) days off for the holidays. Until the phone suddenly rang, making you curious as you saw the name calling. Especially since you thought you heard Chan, your boyfriend, saying that they were working today.

'Hello?'

'Hey, yn, hi. Are you busy right now?' your friend's voice sounded slightly defeated as he answered, even though you could tell he was trying to play it off.

'Hyune, hi. No, I'm not, what's up? Is everything okay?' you sat straight, listening carefully.

'Yes and no. Listen, we got some late notice from the company and now Chan hyung is pissed. Like very pissed.' you frowned as he sighed, 'But mostly he's upset. And I know for a fact that the only thing that can calm him down it's you. Would you mind maybe coming over?'

You and Chan were supposed to meet at your apartment to have dinner together later, despite that you didn't even think twice before getting up and walking to your room to change quickly.

'Yes, got it. Don't worry, I'll be there in 10.'

-

You didn't bother getting ready properly, with a full on makeup and hair done, or a carefully picked out outfit. Usually you'd have some decency going out, even just for meeting your friends. But right now you didn't have the time, nor the mood for it.

Hyunjin didn't give too many details, but since he mentioned a late notice schedule, you probably imagined that it would mess with your and Chan's plans for New Year's. It was not the first time that it happened unfortunately, but then again, it was his work. He couldn't truly help it, and you knew that it upset him.

You put on a gray wool oversized dress, some pantyhose, a padded jacket and a beanie, after quickly fixing your hair slightly. Then you grabbed your bag and before you knew it, you were in your car driving to the boys' dorm.

-

Like you predicted, around ten minutes later you arrived and opted on sending Hyunjin a text instead of ringing the bell. He immediately came to answer the door and gave you a quick hug and a small smile.

'Changbin is not home. Me and Jisung are going out for a while, okay? Let me know when the threath has been doomed.' he joked, just as you waved to Jisung who was wrapping a big scarf around his neck. He smiled back and hugged you too.

'Thank you, yn. He wouldn't hear us out at all, so we decided to call you.' he said. You shook your head slightly as you took off the beanie.

'It's okay. I'm sorry that you guys probably also had some plans spoiled.' you responded. They both had a sweet yet quite defeated expression on as you switched places, them on the doorstep on their way out and you on your way in.

'Ah, It's alright. It's out job after all. Take your time, alright?' Hyunjin replied, and you nodded with a small smile before they closed the door behind them.

You sighed, mentally preparing to try and not look too disappointed. You were, of course, but now it wasn't about you. And besides, the last thing you would've wanted was to make Chan feel more guilty.

You made your way down the corridor to his room, which was pretty much silent. You knocked on the door gently, and just after a couple of seconds your boyfriend showed up. He was wearing a black hoodie, gray tracksuit pants and his big headphones. His face looked tired, serious and there was the slightest hint of red in his eyes.

His expression switched fast as soon as he realized it was you at the door and not one of his roommates, which had already taken turns in trying to comfort him and calm him down. He even had a small argument with Changbin, hence why he had to leave the house before they started shouting names at each other.

'Yn? What- weren't we supposed to meet later? Did I loose track of time-?' he quickly glanced down at the time on his phone, taking off the headphones with one hand and discarding them on his bed. The wallpaper being a sweet picture of you too making yout heart shrink a bit.

'Channie, hi baby. No, it's okay, you didn't. A little bird told me you needed some cheering up.' you smiled sweetly at him as you brought your hands up to stroke his arms.

He scoffed, releasing himself from your grip gently, just to walk back and plop down on his big plush desk chair.

'Which one of those fu-...ah, I don't even care. I assume that they told you, then?' he sighed heavily, stopping himself from curing at his friends. You walked closer, taking off your bag and jacket, placing them on the clothes hanger behind the door.

'Don't be mad. They did it because they care about you enough to not see your hair turn white from stress before your time.' you tried to lighten up the mood, but it didn't seem to work as he just proceeded to put his head down in between his hands.

Your smile fell, taking a deep breath, understanding that he really needed some time to get out his feelings first.

'Just about a late notice schedule. Nothing more, but I assume that it's for New Year's. Is that why you're so upset?' you scrunched down in frot of him, your hands placed on his knees.

He waited a few seconds before speaking, his voice low and quite monotone. 'We got two Japan schedules for the 31st and the 1st. But we have to leave on the 29th. And we'll probably not going to be back before the 2nd. Just in time for our already pre paid and organized planes to be canceled. Of fucking course.' his tone getting sharper as he spoke.

You stroked his thigh gently to comfort him, 'I'm sorry, baby. I know you were looking forward to a few days off.' you responded. He shook his head, frowning as he sat up straight.

'Fuck the days off. I can have days off all year. I was looking forward to spending at leas one fucking holiday with my girlfriend, in peace in a nice luxury cabin in the middle of damn nowhere.' he ranted angrily, before pausing for a second and giving you a quick look. 'It's me the one who should be sorry.'

'But it's not your fault, Chan. It's work, you have schedules and many times they may not be planned. That's how it works for many other jobs too, think about it.' you try to reason, once again taking his hands into your stroking them.

'It's the third time in four months. First it was your birthday, then Christmas, and now New Year's. It's starting to stress me out. Isn't it stressing you out?' he asked, frowning. You sighed.

'What do you want me to say? 'Chris this is too much, you're always busy with stuff that's out of your control so I'm leaving you'? Is that what you want to hear?' your tone slightly more stern. You weren't mad, but his constant throwing himself under the bus was bothering you. He widened his brown eyes, squeezing your hands slightly.

'No! What? Of course not. I was just-' you stood up straight, shushing him.

'Then stop with that shit. We can reschedule later. I don't give a fuck whether it is December 31st or April, or whatever. I'll be happy to spend time with my boyfriend and that's it. Okay? Stop beating yourself up about it.' your voice got warmer. He leaned forward, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you close.

'Still. Im sorry that I keep disappointing you. You deserve better.' the last sentence made you snap so you pushed him back slightly, making him look up at you.

'Oi, don't say shit like that. It's not true.' the little oi clearly being his Aussie influence.

'You are better. You're the best. Don't ever say that, because it's not true. I love you.' you cradled his face in your hands. His big brown eyes looking up at you so sweetly.

'Am I though?' he said sadly. Always doubting himself, you sighed internally.

'Yes you are.' you planted a kiss on his lips, trying to lighten up the mood 'Besides, you know that I'm too honest. If you were being shitty to me I'd tell you. Well, I'd tell your friends first and then you. Just to add that bit of embarrassment.' you shrinked your eyes jokingly, finally getting a chuckle out of him.

That made you smile in return, as you kept caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up at you again, shaking his head slightly with a small smile on his face. 'What?' you said cutely.

'I love you so much. I wonder what did I do to deserve you.' you smiled sweetly at him before switching again, and clicking your tongue.

'Getting sappy here, Christopher' you released his face, about to turn around to go get your phone, just to shoot a quick message to Hyunjin reassuring that the situation was handled, but chan grabbed your hand making you turn around.

He laughed, smirking up at you slightly. 'Hey, come back here' you chuckled, letting yourself be dragged back. You were now standing in between his legs, him still sitting on his big desk chair.

'You need something?' you joked. 'Just my girl. Right here. Close to me.' your smile turned into a smirk, as your hands started to wander on his shoulders.

'I am close.' his hands came up to your waist then down to your hips, pushing you more into him, your faces close.

'Closer' you carefully straddled him, your arms around his neck.

'Enough?' he chuckled faintly, his lips grazing your neck and then whispering 'Never' into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

'Greedy boy' you teased 'I can get even more greedy. Will you let me?' he looked back at you, the slightest hint of humor in his voice, but his eyes were telling a different story.

'Yes' you respondeded without a doubt. 'Go ahead. Do whatever you want. I know you need it.' at that point he crashed his lips to yours, immediately starting a passionate kiss. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as his hands pressed your hips down to his crotch.

At that point your dress had already pooled around your hips, so the only thing separating you two were your pantyhose and panties, aside from his own pants. As you continued kissing and grinding, he got hard quite quickly.

One of his hands were holding you close to him while the other wandered under the dress and then straight to the hem of the pantyhose and the panties.

'Off' he mumbled in between kisses, so you carefully stood up, a little dazed from the heat of the moment and quickly discarded them both at the same time. Chan also got up to get rid of his own pants and underwear, and then reprised to kiss you.

He tried to lead you to the bed, but you stopped him 'No, I want to ride you there' you slowly pushed him back on the chair, his gaze not leaving you for a single moment.

'Fuck baby' he cursed, before widening his eyes for a moment 'Wait let me close the door-' you pushed him back again, shooting him a smirk.

'Relax, baby. Hold on' you went to close the door, turning the lock for safety, even though you knew that most likely none of the members would've stepped back into the house unless you told them to.

'Need you so bad, c'mere' he grabbed your hand, almost making you stumble into him. You chuckled, straddling him again. He wetted his fingers slightly with some spit before his hand went straight to stroke your slit. You moaned into his neck, as you kept your knees raised at his sides to allow him access.

'So wet already' he teased, making you groan and hump his hand more.

'You made me go out in the cold and interrupt a good movie. Now get to work, Christoper.' you complained, erupting a chuckle from him.

'Okay, okay.' he surrendered, I'll warm you back up real quick, baby girl' at that point he lined up his hard cock with your pussy, gathering some wetness before helping you sink down on him. You both moaned deeply, mumbling some curses.

'Fuck, Channie...so big' he hummed while kissing your neck as his hands supported the back and forth movement of your hips. You started kissing as your hips kept on going faster, then slower again, then going in circles.

After a while though, Chan seemed to notice you trying to get more stimulation to your slit, so he decided to take matter in his own hands.

'Wait, baby, hold on' he interrupted the kiss and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it off of you and throwing it on the carpet nearby. The fact that you weren't wearing a bra was a pleseant surprise.

'No bra? Naughty girl' he smirked, making you laugh faintly. He attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and licking, while he played with the other with his pointer and thumb.

'Ah-' you moaned as he grazed the nipple with his teeth lightly, 'Wait, you too' you said, this time being you to take his hoodie off. In the meantime your pussy kept grinding on his dick, a bit more lazily since your knees were kinda starting to ache a bit.

Chan seemed to remember what he wanted to do before getting distracted by your tits, so he stopped once again 'Turn around baby. Want to touch you properly' he said sweetly as he helped you change positions.

You were now sitting with your back pressed to his chest, one of his hands grabbing your breast and the other working on your clit. He was making you feel so good that your mind was starting to get a little fuzzy, your hips grinding on his cock and his fingers mindlessly.

'Yeah, just like that. So good for me, baby' he whispered into your ear, his nose pressed to the side of your head, 'Such a good fuckig girl for me' he kissed your hair, your head, your neck.

'C-Chan, baby, m' close' you whined, one of your hands covering his one on your breast, while the other was between his hair desperately holding on for dear life.

'I know baby, I know' he sped up, pounding you so quick and deep that you were seeing stars, 'Come for me, c'mon. So beautiful' he groaned.

'My beautiful, patient, amazing girl' his fingers applying some more pressure, 'Really don't deserve you' the last phrase so quiet that your fucked out mind almost didn't catch it. Almost.

'C-chan, oh my god' your back arched, moaning out his name as you came. His rythm gradually slowed down, but his thrusts were still sharp and deep.

'Come inside me, baby. Wanna feel you, need to feel you, please' you pleaded, grabbing his jaw to kiss him. He moaned into your mouth, and after a few more sharp thrusts, you felt him coming inside you.

'Yes, that's it, so good' you cooed, giving little kisses on his mouth 'Love you so much' you whispered. He smiled slightly in the kiss, hugging you tight. You moved around, getting more comfortable but still hugging each other tight and cuddling. You were left in a comfortable silence for a while.

'I heard that, you know.' you said softly, his gaze pointing down at you as his fingers still delicately caressed your arm.

'What do you mean?' he asked. You didn't look at him, concentrating on playing with his hands.

'You know exactly what I mean. Stop saying that. I mean it. I love you, and I know that you love me. There must be a reason why we're together and we work. So stop getting into your own head' your eyes locking with his. 'Promise?'

He chewed on his plump lip, definitely feeling guilty that he got scolded yet again. Naked, on his bedroom chair, after some mind blowing sex and a whole lot of feelings. In the end he sighed, nodding and planting a longing kiss on your head.

'Good. Now get me a blanket or something, I'm fucking freezing.' he laughed, bumping his head gently to yours jokingly. Then he helped you get off him and opened one of the closet's drawers and grabbed a fuzzy blanket.

'Wait for me a second, I'll get something to clean up.' he told you as he quickly put his hoodie and pants back on. You nodded as he exited the bedroom. Wrapped up in the blanket, you searched for your phone in your bag. When you found it you quickly dialed Hyunjin's number, who picked up after just a couple of rings.

'Hello?' you could hear some noise in the background, so you assumed that they were maybe in a bar or something.

'Everything's fine.' you said, sitting down to wait for Chan to come back.

'Oh, I'm glad. I knew you would make him reason' just as he said that, you clearly heard Jisung yelling 'Are you done fucking or what' with some laugh erupting.

'Oh my Gosh' you replied, embarassed while you pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers.

'Shit! Yn, I'm so sorry about that. This motherfucker is just jealous you're getting some' he chuckled, as you heard Jisung saying something along the lines of 'Fuck you'.

'Hyunjin!' you scolded him, not being able to not laugh. They laughed.

'Sorry, sorry. We'll be back in an hour or so, bye!' and he hung up.

'You know, I would've betted on Jisung, because he's a nosy fucker.' you got startled by Chan's voice. He closed the door behind him again and scrunched down in front of you, gently helping you clean up with a warm damp towel.

'But he only talks behind people's back. Should've known it was Hyune.' he sighed. You smiled, messing with his hair.

'C'mon. You should be thankful. You started off wanting to punch a hole in the wall and now look at you'. you teased. He smirked, getting up and discarding the towel in the dirty clothes basket.

'Yeah, the power of pussy I guess' your mouth went slack, as you threw at him your previously discarded panties. He caught them, laughing hard at your outraged reaction.

'Oh so that's what I am to you, uh? Good to know, Christopher' you feigned annoyance and dramatically crossed your legs, looking away from him.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he laughed, coming close to grab your had in between his hands and kissing you. 'You know It's not true. Well, not only-' you gasped in shock again as he threw his head back laughing.

'You little-'

♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

That's it folks! I know it was quite a rollercoaster, but hopefully decent nonetheless. Until next time <3

#silentcryracha #stray kids bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan #skz scenarios #bang chan smut #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x you #chan x reader #chan smut #chan skz #skz imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff

[vcill]

Heya 🫰🏻

Could I request something like "What the brothers would say to you to get you into the mood"?

I love your writing and am very curious about your ideas 👀

Thanks for requesting!

Lucifer:

He's the devil for a reason.

Would act the complete opposite then how he's usually does in bed.

If you have a praise kink, time to go crazy!!

Starts off innocent, probably asks you to sit on his lap and tell him about your day.

Will listen to every word, if you say you did well on test he'll tell you how proud he is to be able to be with someone so smart and pretty/handsome.

If it's the opposite, and you ended up failing, instead of one of his many lectures, he tells you it's okay and he'll give you extra help next time.

Slowly starts to rub your thigh or back as you continue giving you kisses here and there.

Hums in acknowledgment as you continue on about your day. Probably moves you from his desk towards his bed.

Lays you down on your stomach and will tells you it's a massage but the slick bastard won't say what kind.

You'll definitely find out once his cold his slip down in to your clothes and start toying with you .

Tells you to keep talking as he continues, if you asked what he's done the only response is: "Don't worry about it sweet thing, why don't you continue where you left off, hm?"

Next thing you know, he's pounding into you like there's no tomorrow while still making you tell him about your day, if you stop, he stops.

If you ended up not doing too well in the school day, its a slap on the ass for each thing that you told him.

Pretty much is just comforting then uses it against you.

This is pretty much one of the "softer" ways he gets you in the mood, even if you somehow don't catch on right away.

Mammon:

Once again, Mammon did something to get in trouble. If it wasn't with Lucifer, then probably the witches, or his brothers- maybe even Diavalo.

Regardless, this is probably the right time this week and it wasn't even Wednesday day.

Even Lucifer was shocked how much trouble the second one was being.

After another lecture, Mammon showed up to your room still in a pouty mood from earlier.

The least he wanted was another lecture, which is why before you could even start, he cut you off.

"How 'bout we make a deal, yeah?"

Now you know better then to make deals with him, considering all the other times he made one with that had you ended up being stuffed full and exhausted.

But if it could stop his behavior, then so be it.

For the next 7 days, he acted like an angel. Being nice to his brothers, paying off some debt. Even studying. (Everyone was shocked, even you)

But the real action was when he was with you.

"Ya like it when I'm a good boy, right?"

Acts so submissive and even asks and begs you to do things that he would never had done before.

"Promise I'll be good, I'll always be good for ya, I'm your little mambaby ain't I?"

If you're into it, he'll add a bit of mommy/daddy kink into the mix.

But of course with him m acting like this, how could you not want to treat him let me a good boy?

Always asks if you want him touch, lick , suck or bite a certain part of you, and when you say yes, you think you see Simeon in the purgatory hall.

Of course he totally wasn't trying to plan this. Totally.

Leviathan:

Roleplay all the way with this man.

I feel like this is the only time where he REALLY feels confident.

Starts off with something corny, probably from a video game like "The mighty prince Leviathan, has once again slain the dragon. Now to find the princess/princess!"

You'll be laying on his bed, striking a dramatic pose "Thank you thy knight! For saving me, you shall receive a special award."

"I am glad my great efforts receive such praise, I'll do my best to serve your highness"

Honestly you two being very silly and goofy but turned on nonetheless.

While giggling, he kissing your neck while le giving you a few special marks, calls them protection stamps. (IDK what to call them just something goofy 😭)

Puts you before him, will kiss every part of you and go down, while he does he describes every part of you in such great detail.

"Your majesty brings me such bliss."

"Will the knight let me sit on my throne?''

"You own everything in this kingdom my prince/princess, take what's yours."

The confidence surge in him would be so hot, he's making sure you are definitely treated as a royal should be. Maybe even more then Barbatos treats Diavolo.

Other roleplays could as be a masquerade ball where you two fuck as strangers but turns out you know each other all along.

Forbidden lovers, needing to stay quiet to not get caught.

Or as if you were trapped in a video game, and new to fuck to get out. (This one might actually happen knowing him).

He's a silly stinky otaku but we love him 💕

Satan:

A little similar to Levi.

Maybe after reading a spicy/romance book he gets into the mood.

Starts off quoting after certain books he's read to see if you remember.

When you repeat the other half correctly, he gets so turned on for some reason. If you don't remember he still will but not in the same way. (Sadistic and Satan both start with a S for a reason.)

Depending on if you answer, he'll continue on, the part he's reciting most likely from a smut.

"They lay there, with not a care in the world, unknowing of what the creature lurking might do."

Even if you are getting fucked mercilessly, you still have lines to say!!

"They moaned the creature fucking Them better then any human could."

(Spoiler alert: They love the monster 🤭)

If not roleplay, he'll have your read the book instead, making sure to exactly get to the spicy part.

While you read it aloud, he starts touching you. Slowly rubbing up and down your area, may even go down on you while you read it.

Better yet does the same thing you describe in the book. If the creature is throat fucking the MC, get prepared.

Every single position you also find yourself in, some of these you never knew even existed, but can't help but to moan like a fucking animal.

If the book had pictures, you would match it completely once you were done reading.

He'll continue reading until he gets to another smutty part, in which it's your turn to read.

And mostly likey get your brains fucked out. 👌🏾

Asmodeus:

Ooo boy

When is he not trying to turn you on?

Asmo has a very very high sex drive, which is obvious with how many past partners he's had.

Cause of this, y'all are pretty much fucking 24/7.

Isn't afraid to hide when he wants you, you could be sitting at the dinner table and he'll make direct eye contact while licking a spoon a little to lewdly.

Moans a little too hard when eating a dish and saying it's good. Leans over over gives you a bite too, making sure it gets on your cheek for him to lick away.

If you decide to tease him back, his horniness go up 100x.

After dinner pretend not to remember what happened at the dinner table and go to his room as normal only to get pinned to the wall in a second.

"Mc, I'm so hungry, maybe even hungrier then beel"

Go ahead and let him get that desert, extra cream too please!

Switches and you'll be sucking him off messily. drool and slobber everywhere and loud sucking noise filling the room.

"Mc, your so nasty I love it."

Cums on your face, with some getting on his torso, will look at you with the most innocent eyes and ask you to clean him up.

Whines so much whenever you ride him, gripping onto your hips hard, begging for you to go faster.

He'll sound like he just came out of a hentai, saying things that surprisingly, you only got to hear.

But never ever neglect him for too long, as bold as he is, he'll get even bolder.

In a meeting with Diavolo instead of being with him? Don't worry, he'll tell a good excuse on why you should be with him instead. Maybe even invites the demon prince.

(100% think he talks dirty to you in other languages, whatever language it is, is your choice!)

Beezlebub:

Innocent baby that doesn't realize he's a complete beast in bed. (He does a lil)

Food play doesn't always have to come in here, a lot of times it's whenever you guys are alone together.

Can be very blunt. Just makes eye contact with you and asks "Can I fuck you?"

Or if he wants to be more romantic, he'll get on his knees and rest on your thighs, purring against them. Leaves a few hickies too.

Sucks you off/eats you out always talking about how good you feel.

Now this is where food play can come in. Maybe gets some honey, chocolate syrup, icing. (Icing works best for clean-up imo.)

Licks and slurps it off so messily, moans in delight when he taste your cum in the mix.

"m'still hungry mc, spread it a little more, please?''

Pulls your legs as far as they can to keep licking down there, his tongue can also get longer as he please, so definitely hits all those spots.

When he puts his dick into you, it's a messy make out session. Left over syrup falling from both of your lips, drool dripping down your chins, beel has never felt so full before.

"Mc, you got something on your chest, don't worry, I'll get it for you."

He gets it all right, maybe even does a little bit of a deep clean too.

Tbh, all he needs to do is look at you with those pleading, seemingly innocent eyes and you'll be gone in seconds.

Belphegor:

Since he sleeps a lot, his sex drive won't be high but that doesn't mean he ain't needy.

Ironically, when you're the one sleeping, he's horny.

Can do dream manipulation imo. goes into whatever dream you're having and changes it up a bit to have him in there.

It's a weird one, you're back in the human world in your room about to take a nap, until Belphie comes from under it and grab onto your legs.

"You're not tired yet, are you?"

"It's not fair if you're sleeping and not me, help fall asleep too?"

Slowly you start to wake up as Belphie moves inside of you. Moaning into your ear. You're gonna help him, right?

While he thrusts, you mumble sleepy the words "I'll help you" over and over.

When you cum, he complains," it's not fair that I didn't get to cum yet, so why should you sleep?"

Overstimulates you like crazy, when you start to get a little loud he ask how is he supposed to fall asleep with all the noise.

If you're too quiet, he says he can't call asleep without a little noise in the room.

"m'getting tired, you go on top so I can rest."

Will sit back and seemingly fall asleep while you do the work bouncing up and down.

If you try to stop thinking he's sleep, he thrusts up telling you he isn't done yet and to continue.

"Belphie, I'm tried, can we please continue later?"

"We have school in the morning, mc. I can't go to school without sleep, can I?"

Younger sibling brattiness sure is kicking in right now.

"If you don't want to help anymore, I'll just get beel to help you."

Last time that happened, you couldn't even go to RAD in the morning, to tired and numb to walk.

So go ahead and help little Belphie sleep, okay? It's better when you both fall asleep anyway.

#beelzebub x reader #belphie x reader #leviathan x mc #obey me headcanons #obey me x chubby reader #obey me x female reader #obey me x gn!reader #satan x reader #mammon smut #obey me headcannons #obey me smut #obey me levithan #obey me satan

[ohhiimjazzed]

NSFW Alphabet LMK Sun Wukong

CW: Explicit sexual content, MINORS DNI

A - Aftercare (what are they like after sex):

at first, he had to be told what made you comfortable, but after that, he's basically a pro. he's actually a very caring person to the people closest to him. that includes you.

B- Body Part (their favorite body part on themselves and his partner's)

On himself: I know it's cliche, but tail. it's something that's unique about him. it's what makes a monkey a monkey. so he takes pride in having a tail. He's the Monkey King after all. He's going to be proud of the Monkey part of him.

On You: your hips. LOVE HANDLES MAN. He will grip onto your hips whenever he possibly can. From the front, from the back, doesn't matter. It also keeps him grounded during sex. he likes to feel that you're there with him and that you're real.

C- Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he likes to cum inside if he can. it's either if he has a condom on, or if you are on birth control. (don't be silly, wrap your willie!). but if you're trying for a baby, oh, he is going to indulge in cumming inside you.

if he had to take another option, then he'll cum on your stomach or ass

D- Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he's shapeshifted himself to have female anatomy before. and he's touched himself with those parts. it wasn't really a horny thing really. he was just curious to see how women masturbate

E - Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Wukong is kind of a whore. He isn't a virgin by any means. But, this is the first time he's had sex with a human. Humans are a lot more fragile than demons. He's a bit scared he'll break you when you did it for the first time. by the time he learns your limits, he's good and he'll know what he's doing

F - Favorite Position (that goes without saying)

He's got a couple

The Lotus: (one partner is sitting in the other's lap while wrapping their legs around their partner) He's able to grasp your hips easy here, and he can hit it pretty deep

Doggy Style: (one partner is on their hands and knees while the other is behind them) again, he can grab your hips more easily with this position. plus it's a lot more animalistic. it unlocks the demon instincts in him.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he's called you 'bro' during sex. it was one time and it was spur of the moment. did it ruin the mood? yes. was it hilarious? hell yes. what I'm trying to say, is that he's not afraid to crack a joke during sex

H - Hair (how groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

the carpet matches the drapes because it's fur. he's a monkey. there's gonna be fur down there. but, when you come along he trims some of it so it doesn't get stuck up a hole or something

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he can get really romantic when he wants to. he's got the duality of calling you 'bro' in bed, to whispering sweet nothings to you. he's a cheesy fuck tho. he'll do the rose petals and the candles

J - Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

he's rubbed one out before. he'll do it to the thought of you either if you're gone or not in the mood. he won't force you into having sex with him so jacking off is the next best thing (look at him doing the bare minimum)

K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink: bro will keep it inside you after he finishes if you ask for it. he wants to keep it there in hopes that you'll get pregnant (if you can). he's seen how loving and caring you are towards the baby monkeys. it makes him want to start a family with you.

Praise Kink: it goes both ways for this one. he likes to see how you react to him praising you. praise him too while you're at it. tell him how good it feels. he'll go harder and try to hit deeper. also he just wants to feel loved and make you feel loved.

Degradation: call him a good little whore. he'll love it

L - Location (favorite places to do the do)

he'll do it in the bedroom (obviously) it's the most privacy, but he also doesn't mind doing it in places around FFM. you just gotta make sure the monkeys aren't able to catch you two. some of them are really young and we are not here to traumatize children

M - Motivation (what turns them on/gets them going?)

PET HIS TAIL! Do it! I fucking dare you! He'll pounce on you if he's feeling it that day. His tail is sensitive man. He might even moan outright if you pet it during his rut/heat.

Also generally being in a heat/rut like state will get him going anyways. (this is demon terms not real monkey terms by the way)

N - No (something they're not willing to do, turn-offs)

will not physically hurt you unless he know's it's fine. the most he'll do is biting to mark you. he's still a bit cautious about your human physique. he sometimes forgets about his own strength and will leave bruises on your hips sometimes. he gets really guilty about that

O - Oral (preference in giving, or receiving, their skill, etc.)

he's more of a giver in this regard. he likes seeing you writhe in pleasure while he gives you head. pull his hair while he gives you head, he likes that. if you really wanna give him a blowie though, he'll be driven wild. will whimper

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

more like slow and rough. he likes to tease you a bit by going back and forth from slow to fast. but he'll keep a good pace most of the time. when you're close to cumming, he'll go faster so you can chase your high

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves a good quickie as much as the next guy. he'll do a quickie if he's really stressed though. it's a good release for you both. it's also a time when you can give him a blowie

R- Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's down for most of everything. for some things you've gotta talk to him about it and probably explain what it is. but that's only for a few kinks.

S - Stamina (how long can they go for? how long do they last?)

this bitch is immortal. he's got stamina for days. You have to be the one to call things off for the night because it's most likely he can keep going. he can even go all night if you're up for it

T -Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he'll use toys, but you gotta be the one that owns them. he doesn't really have toys because of how isolated he was from humans before Lego Monkie kid began. he'll use the vibrator on you if you ask for it. hell, he'll even let you use a strap and peg him.

U - Unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

the definition of tease. he will edge you when you've been bad my guy. be fucking prepared. you have to like edging if you wanna have sex with him on a regular basis. he's not a monster tho, he'll let you cum, eventually

V - Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

it depends on if he's on top or bottom. if he's on top, he'll let out some grunts and even a groan or two while he's pounding into you. if you're on top, he will whimper. DO IT. MAKE HIM WHIMPER AND WHINE FOR YOU

W - Wild Card (a random headcanon about the character)

after all that's happened throughout LMK, Wukong wants to repair his relationship with Macaque. He knows that it's going to take a lot of work and patience, and it'll never be like how it was. but, he wants to give it a try. there's a part of him that still cares about Macaque.

X - X -ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

he's about average size (4-5 inches) but he's a shapeshifter, so he can change the size to experiment. he tried to make it nine inches and holy jesus you couldn't fit that in you without a bit of prep.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he'll do it about 4-5 times a week. he won't do it when MK is over to train with him though. it's too much of a risk to have him walk in on you two. he can't risk having his student looking at him with disgust

Z - ZZZ (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)

he'll clock out when you're all taken care of for the night. if you're having a bath afterward, he'll probably be out by then. once you get in the bed, he's reaching for you. it's cute

---------

okay, thank you for coming to my ted talk

#lmk smut #lmk x reader #sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #wukong x reader #sun wukong lmk

[skellys-selfships]

Rayman relationship headcanons {gender neutral reader}

(side note: while these hc's are based on the canon Rayman, i haven't picked a specific version from the games, kinda an amalgamation if you will, anyways enjoy! i'm a bit rusty at this </3)

• it wasn't hard to get closer to Rayman as a friend seeing as he's very outgoing. the idea of dating however was completely unexpected to him

• he slept for 100 years he doesn't know crap about confessing feelings (poor bby😭)

• he's not gonna be the one to make the first move, as much as he wants to

• much to your surprise, under that energetic personality, he's pretty sappy when given affection

• he doesn't usually like when people try to touch his hair, but you're an exception ;)

• on rare occasions when not overwhelmed by shyness, he'll discreetly grab hold of your hand, or when the two of you are alone, he'll nuzzle his snoot against your neck

• give him lil scratches under his chin, he purrs-

• he really likes it when you sing to him <3 he'll absolutely return the favor

• while expressing his feelings with words is a bit nerve-wracking for him, he finds others ways to show you he cares, leaving you small gifts and surprising you with flowers are just a few ways he does so

• if you ever catch him off guard by saying something extremely flirtatious, he'll go completely silent but his entire face going red gives away how you make him feel

• when you show him physical affection, he'll always return the favor, it just takes a little courage for him to do so

• he really likes nuzzling and kissing your neck and shoulders, not justvbecause you're particularly sensitive there, but those are both parts of the body he lacks, he's really curious 👁👁

• he is awful and extremely cheesy at flirting but is genuinely sweet when the two of you are alone and he tries his best to just let you know how he feels

• in terms of heroes capable of incredible feats, he's pretty humble. but if you ever call him "your hero" he'll nearly melt into a puddle

• you're the first partner he's really had, don't embarrass him too much when he introduces you to his friends

• if you ever ask him why his limbs float, don't. he has no clue either don't ask him if "other parts" of him float too, he will curl up into his own hoodie out of embarrassment and not come out

• he's a good listener, not just because he's a man of few words but he's just naturally a problem solver to his core

• the longer the two of you are together, the more his outgoing nature rubs off into his love life, you find him initiating things more, coming up behind you to surprise you with a little kiss every now n then

• while he's very sweet and chipper, he has 0 issue with fighting for you, wether in your honor or to ever rescue you

• no matter how old he is, he's never too old to be a bit silly, it's easy for him to brighten the mood with half of the faces he pulls. sometimes during very inopportune moments he'd look at you with the most goofy expression just to make you burst out laughing with no context

• he takes care of you so much and never asks for anything im return, getting affection and praise from you makes him simply wanna explode sometimes. he absolutely adores you💜🧡

#me writing #f/o stuff #hc's #headcanon #relationship headcanons #Rayman #rayman x reader #Rayman headcanons #x reader #fluff headcanons #self ship #self shipping community

[llamagoddessofficial]

Hey llama :>

So I think you answered a question once about the aggre boys’……. ““““Packages””””, but I was curious about how they actually act in bed…? 👀

Couldn't help but do this one. I don't usually do NSFW (I'm a sex repulsed ace), but this is fun concept ksjdf

18+ only under the cut. Please respect my wishes.

Sans: Not gonna lie, he's goofy as hell in bed.

He can definitely be serious, if that's what you want. He's by no means only silly. But left to his own devices, he's going to be doing a lot of 'ruining' the mood with puns. You'll both be laughing at everything; the jokes, the whole situation, the inevitable sounds that bodies make. It's all very silly and lighthearted.

Red: He's good. And that's something of an understatement. He's very experienced, very kinky, pretty much down for everything... so he can do anything you want him to do, doll~

His comfort zone is firmly the exciting stuff. He doesn't typically do anything soft, because then he has to actually think about his feelings. But... if you're with him long enough, and he's certain his love is reciprocated, you might eventually catch him in a mushy mood and unlock Sweet & Emotional Red.

Skull: Usually, Skull doesn't have those kinds of feelings at all. He had more urgent things to worry about, Underground, and after a while his mind kinda just... shut down that part of him. He still gets very strong romantic desires, love coming straight from the Soul, but his fear of hurting/scaring you keeps sexual feelings tightly locked up.

But if you express interest, initiate with him, and can convince him you won't be frightened... well. He's got a whole lot of pent up urges suddenly coming out all at once. You won't be walking in the morning.

(Don't worry, he can carry you; aftercare is his favourite part.)

#llamagines #red is into very weird stuff and skull is like getting hit by a truck #meanwhile. sans makes lightsaber noises

[rose-reveries]

EPISODE FIVE

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR EP 5 OF PERCY JACKSON YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

THINGS I LIKED:

I'm so happy we finally got to see the Fates omg. I am curious because they swapped it around so that Annabeth saw it instead of Percy. Like, interesting??? But I don't hate it.

The actor embodies Ares so well, omg I love it.

YEAHHH WE ARE FINALLY SEEING THAT PERCY IS WANTED AND GABE IS BEING A BITCH AND DOING INTERVIEWS SAYING HE'S A TROUBLED KID. FBI WANTED PERCY JACKSON REAL AGAIN.

KRONOS EXPOSITION FUCKING FINALLY YEAHHHHH I'VE LITERALLY BEEN ASKING WHERE IT WAS THE PAST 4 EPISODES. And i'm totally fine with the Krono's exposition and FBI wanted Percy info coming from Ares. Like, makes enough sense tbh.

"I'm 24." "Good for you."

PERCABETH WAS REALLY CUTE THIS EPISODE.

THINGS I JUST WANNA BLAB ABOUT:

I wish they would have shown more how Ares's aura effects people's mood. Like yeah they were sassy, but Percy's been sassy this entire time so I didn't really feel like there was much of a change there.

BOLD DEPARTURE FROM THE SOURCE MATERIAL HERE. It's not a bad thing, I liked a lot of the changes. But like just like...interesting for sure lol. Again not actually a bad thing but BOLDD departure from the source material.

i miss them raiding the park for clothes and becoming walking advertisements. It was funny, despite adding nothing to the plot. I don't mind it isn't there, I just think that scene in that book is so silly goofy it makes me laugh.

I THOUGHT HEPHAESTUS WAS FUCKING SAW TRAPPING THEM IM NOT GONNA LIE T_T

Okay, I am VERY intrigued with the angle they are going in because it has become apparent this episode they are trying to frame it so first time viewers think Grover stole the bolt. Which like is so very interesting I don't know how to feel about this. I did however, really like the scene between Grover and Ares.

The jump cuts...why are you acting as if you are going to go to commercial break. Please stop.

I liked this episode, but I have to admit the tunnel drop sequence CGI was bad and hard to watch, I'm so sorry.

We are meeting more gods than we did in the books, and while Percy seems to have reconciled with his dad this episode, now we are seeing Annabeth start to resent the gods, which leads me to question what will stop Annabeth and Percy from siding with Luke in the end? Because what Luke is doing against the gods right now sounds pretty good to me, they fucking suck and we see that and Percy and Annabeth see that. I don't know, just thoughts.

Anyway, I am so excited for the casino next week :))) hehehe

#pjo tv spoilers #PJO TV show #pjo tv #spoilers #percy jackson

[ilovehappycolacandy]

Avatar 2 Theory

I'm not sure if anyone else has posted about this, but I haven't seen anyone else voice this theory, so here we go.

Ok, so this has been floating around in my head for a while, since the official trailer was released.

At first I thought that Kiri (Jake and Neytiri's adopted daughter) might have been Grace Augustine reborn from Eywa. Kind of like Pandoran Jesus or Anakin Skywalker. The fact that she's voiced by Sigourney Weaver was the main reason why I thought this.

Maybe Eywa was just in a silly goofy mood and was like, "Nah, I'll just save you for later". And I've seen some people do an overlay of a younger Sigourney Weaver's face over Kiri's and they do look the same, if not very similar.

But, then the other day, I remembered that I had read something somewhere about Grace having a Na'vi boyfriend. And when I remembered this, that's when the lightbulb went off.

Kiri isn't Grace Augustine reborn. She's Grace's daughter. Grace's avatar body was pregnant before she died. And this would explain why Kiri has avatar features (five fingers and eyebrows), why Jake and Neytiri adopted her (they loved Grace) and why she would have a strong connection to Eywa (because Grace still lives within Eywa).

There are also some promotional pictures that were released that show Kiri watching a recording of Grace in what looks to be an old human bunker/science facility.

If she is Grace's daughter, I'm going to assume that Jake and Neytiri haven't made it a secret as to who her mother is and she's curious about what kind of person Grace was.

I'm also going to assume that Grace's avatar body was put back into one of those growth tubes where they initially grow the avatars so that Kiri could be carried to term and delivered. I think I saw a picture of Kiri looking into one of those tubes, with a body inside and people online were speculating that it was Grace's body. Which didn't make sense to me at the time, because why would they have preserved Grace's body if Grace was dead and no one else could drive the avatar. But it would make sense if it was discovered that the body had been pregnant, so they kept the body alive for the baby's sake.

I'm gonna call it now: Kiri is Grace's daughter, born from her avatar body and that's why Sigourney Weaver came back to voice her.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #the way of water #avatar 2022 #jake sully #neytiri #grace augustine #avatar twow #kiri #movies #movie 2022 #movie theory

[markatoto]

I don't know whether you're a big drinker or not, but I wonder: what are your top five/five go do alcoholic bevvies? (I don't drink/I don't know are perfectly acceptable answers, I'm just curious)

im actually not a big drinker but when the mood strikes, i am very much a cider guy! i dont know if i have a top five... so ill just list off the top 5 most common things i throw back when i get in the drinky mood and we'll call that the top five, if thats okay with you guys! 1. like i said, i am a cider guy. most times im feelin drinky, i grab myself a crisp cider for that good good time. in particular, my go to is a green apple sommersby, its cool, refreshing and just very nice to drink. great on most occasions, especially a hot summers' day!

2. sometimes if i wanna get sillay, then having a vodka is a REAL nice way of getting to that point. i dont know what brands are good or whats a good vodka overall, but i remember there was a time in my life where i was getting, no joke, these small crystal skull vodkas pretty often. what can i say, they looked cool...

3. i am NOT a beer person what-so-ever, but if we end up going to a local bar and they have local drinks, i do fancy this local brand called "Jelly King", which is, to me, the best beer that tastes the least like a beer, in my opinion. it's good, but its entirely a local brew only option. otherwise, i dont really fuck with most beers

4. okay, i know this is going to be the answer of answers for most drinks, but sometimes a CLAW (whiteclaw) can just set the mood right. it's light, refreshing, cheap, and (mostly) tastes good. and you can have a good amount of em and feel that sillay at a certain point. if i had a favourite flavour, it's probably the lime.

5. okay, this is going to be EXTRA silly, and its been a while since ive had one, but honestly, there was this root beer vodka that i remember thoroughly enjoying from a couple years ago. i REALLY liked it but thats more for like... a special treat time. it's also extremely silly. very very goofy aah drink. small shoutouts to smirnoff for also being another funny little drink thats relatively cheap AND if you drink enough of it you can definitely get into sillay mode with it. in particular, i like the berry blast flavor that tastes like a melted popsicle. but yeah, its fine, if not juvenile LOL

and thats about all i think of off the top of my head! i hope that was good enough!

#the questions #why drink when i can just chill with wead :)

[spookiestheadcanons]

i got kinda curious about your hcs with liv after the "her parents cant stand her childish behaviour" part

can you tell them??

with pleasure!!

Random Headcanons: Liv!

Mostly everyone sees her as that silly and goofy friend that will always light up your mood

That's because... well, it's true

She's very happy and rarely gets annoyed

But despite that, she has some difficulties handling with actual serious situations

It's not because she lacks empathy or something, the girl just CAN'T deal under anything too overwhelming

This and because she doesn't know how to keep a balance between "funny friend" and "serious friend"

"O-Oh, it's... not that serious? Heh, sorry..." "Ah! I- I'm sorry, I thought it would be okay! I won't make any jokes anymore, I promise... sorry again!"

Like I said before, Liv's parents has a total of zero support

They're not horrible parents, just... can't handle her personality and tastes that well

"Dad, look at my persona! Isn't she cute??" "Uh... yes, yes sure..." "Oh... and what do you think, mom? Did you liked it...?" "Hm? Oh, yes, it's adorable sweetie."

They're not humorous people anymore, Liv is the only one who has some good sense of humour inside that house

If she didn't had good friends since ever, that girl for sure wouldn't bright even half of what she brightens now

SPECIALLY A SPECIFIC PERSON:

Aria. marge

That woman is the mother that Liv wants and needs, it's like the total opposite of her parents

"Oh, hey Aria... it's nothing, I just... it's just a stupid character..." *gasp* "Oh, it's so wholesome! It's called 'persona', right? It kinda looks like you! Aww, I loved that little detail here!"

And then Liv starts infodumping about her oc's for 2 hours straight

Liv absolutely LOVES any type of horror movies, even the bad ones

Definitely has a special collection, don't matter of what, she has one

Liv is just a poor silly child, the baby deserves some good love of her friends and mom Aria

#spooky month #spooky month headcanons #sm liv #streber's rehearsal

[blmpff]

I am genuinely stunned. By all means I shouldn't like A Boss And A Babe, I had even posted I'm only giving it a shot because of Fluke and Thor whoms I fell in love with in The Warp Effect, and yet I'm having a great time?? Not a fan of manic pixie type boy Book is playing (just not my thing), and in general I have trouble seeing ForceBook as a romantic couple, their chemistry feels mostly friendship-level to me, but somehow I'm buying it?? I mean, Cher is a lot, but it seems to be coming from his good heart, and not just "~I'm in a silly goofy mood, no thoughts-brain empty~" 24/7 kind of way. And I love the topics this series touches upon, and how they do it. Boss' homosexuality, the two girls who looked like proper allies and turned out to be fetishisers judging irl gay people, Jack's mental illness, to name a few. And of course I love established couple Thee and Zo! Seeing Thor as Force's ex was unexpected, I thought they were just besties, but now I'm curious what Thor's character is going to do to make Cher jealous next week. Of course it's not perfect, but it's more fun than I thought it would be!

#a boss and a babe #i do fastforward the long stares and nivea product placement as my attention span is nonexistent and i physically cannot- #-watch a 2min shot that could easily be a picture but i am enjoying this and it baffles me so much #blmpff

[fayoftheforest]

hii!! i just wanted to say thank u again for sharing your stan playlist!! i finally got around to listening to it and had fun ^_^.

aahhh and break stuff!! i was so happy to see that one haha. someone made this super cute animatic of stan and kyle dancing to it<3 stan vibes for sureeee. and there was some other stuff i enjoyed thinking of stan listening to!!

this might be kinda silly to ask but im super curious!! is there a reason you went with a cover instead of lana's young and beautiful? i def think stan is a lana enjoyer and there are a few songs that remind me of him! i just never thought of that one.

(playlist in reference is here)

aw I'm so happy you had a funky time listening to it!! it was v fun to make a playlist of songs that I think he'd listen to. I'm working on a couple others for different characters at the moment, to varying success - finding characters like kyle are so much harder to pin down 😭 I remember making a headcanons post years ago about what music genres each character would listen to but I cannot for the life of me find it again >:( curse tumblr's terrible search system!!

break stuff is such a silly stan song to me haha. i feel like he'd add it to his playlist when he's in a really pissy mood and listen to it 100% seriously on repeat on the bus to school. but then if it ever comes on whilst he's with kyle he always plays it off like it's on there ironically and makes kyle get up and do goofy dancing too it hehe :] i tried looking for the break stuff animatic you mentioned but I couldn't find it :'( if you happened to have a link that would be lovely to see!!

I picked the cover of young and beautiful for a couple reasons. mainly, I felt like it fit the vibes of the playlist better than the original. I also like to imagine he'd be super into riskee & the ridicule and other british punk bands (definitely not projecting there no siree 🤫). I like to think he listens to it late at night and imagines that he's a famous rock star playing it on stage and dedicating it to kyle 🥹 y'know, like the soppy cringe loser he is <3

i forgot to save all the stan playlists so if you're still happy to share yours I'd love to give it a listen!! that is also an open invitation for anyone else reading this, give me your stan playlists pls and thanks 🔫

#ask #south park #sp stan #stan marsh

[cryptidofthekeys]

Pizza Tower, huh? I don’t know anything about it, but the characters seem really cool. I like that The Noise character is based of the Domino’s Noid. The Noid is a big favorite, so it made me smile when I found out about this. Still don’t know much about Fake Peppino though. Would you mind telling me more about him?

I think The Noise is very scrunkly, I've seen images bout Domino's Noid but other than that I have,, no idea anything about the creacher (my first reaction to him was O H... WH...WHAT IS THAT... B E A S T?)

Also honestly,, I saw a bit of Pizza Tower before, didn't expect to get into it at all,, but then I saw Fake Peppino and just INSTANTANEOUSLY b o o m- bc of course,, my dumbass would grow attached to that

fjgkdlgfjdfls I gotta put a read more on this

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

Honestly? I'll spare you from me gushing about Feppino (I call him Fakey, Feppi, or Feppino) ...if I don't do this and I start gushing about- I'm sorry in advance but all I know in his canon is just that,, he's a clone of Peppino

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

He VERY much seems to wanna act like him in every way possible, copying him as much as he can ...But also VERY much failing to copy any sorta humanity, I mean considering he speaks backwards and just what kind of amalgamation he CAN turn into (via the chase sequence)

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

he's not... The best at imitating humans ...Although I do love the irony in the motto one of his signs has 'Nothing Compares' gotta love the irony of that being attached to a clone

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

Honestly,, I see two different sides of Feppi's portrayal fgjkdjfds I've seen people make him the most fucking terrifying thing you've ever seen or could see, body horror galore, abomination that by all means SHOULD N O T exist but does

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

and then, hehehe b-big froggie <3 just a silly goofy funky guy who honestly doesn't seem to mean any genuine harm, he's just happy to be here tbh

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

me personally I am BOTH sides- I think he can be both the most horrifying abomination and also just a silly big guy- SOMETIMES he just gets in a silly goofy mood! fgkdjgdkfs I fucking adore Feppino thoughu v much,, he uh... actually He's one of my comfort characters ngl gfkdjgdfls

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

I have noticed some interesting things about ''his'' restaurant in the canon game- I remember the sign saying 'Bruno's Pizza' which honestly makes me curious,, was it just a clone that was made to resemble Peppino's likeness in the first place?

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

Was Bruno just some dude who owned the restaurant and Feppino kinda... ya know, came and took over

. . .

Was H E Bruno who got turned into a fucking horrifying amalgamation of a being that's now trying to impersonate Peppino? ...Me personally- ngl,, while I like everyone's theories n shit on Feppi about being Bruno

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

I kinda just like the thought of Feppino n o t being created by Pizzahead (...I think that was his name,, you'd think I could remember a clown themed character's name oofy) or anything like that- I like the thought of him just existing in general

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

like,, he was just a fucking creature who saw Peppino first more than likely and decided t h i s... This is the form I'll take <3 like he is just some weird,, monstrous creature (eldritch horror, alien, whatever) who is incredibly fascinated with humans (like with p much EVERYTHING they do) he found a form he liked, and now it wants to p much just imitate humans, specifically Peppino

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

But that's uh besides the point fgjdkjfsk the short version of this is just: hehe Fake Peppino is just a silly goofy big guy

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

I guess for my OWN cents added in,, I usually use He/It pronouns on Feppino, and also legit gfjkdhgdfks ngl I have like- well one: Crossover with Spooky Month bc I looked at this creachur and said hm,, CC would like this dude-

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

and 2: Literally have a fuckin,, Pizza Tower OC that I put with him (it's an AU branching off from the canon for said OC fjdkjghdfskd)

#Chase Answers #thank you my anonymous friend <3 #fake peppino #only gonna tag that bc i dont wanna spAm tag #idk I like the thought of it just being like 'no one created it' it simply exists when it should not #it just has always existed without the aid of Pizzahead (even tho it probs makes no sense) and just happened #to like- see Peppino and said ... h m... I like this one <3 my form now

[wildegeist]

📸, 🎭, both for Arctos and Zigzag as I'm very curious with these

Thanks for the ask!!

📸 Do they enjoy having their picture taken? what’s their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of?

[ARCTOS]

He won't take many pictures of himself, but he doesn't mind having his photo taken either if he's asked. He poses for photos in a very... "proper" way, I guess. Back straight, well-composed, and a smile. Nothing particularly out there or fancy, but he definitely does try to look nice.

Arctos loves photography and it's one of the few things in the modern age he's actually really interested in! Back in his day, you couldn't just freeze and save images of things like that. Now he can just capture a moment in time and keep it as a saved memory forever! You can look back on photos of loved ones you lost or are apart from, something he was never previously able to do, and he would have loved to have that back in his time! He takes photos of anything he thinks is pretty- which is usually nature scenery, flowers, and views of space he gets from his ship's windows! He's actually pretty decent at photography and has a good sense of composition.

[ZIGZAG]

Zag's not much of a photo guy. He doesn't care either way about people taking his picture as long as they're not being weird or annoying. He's super boring about poses and will just stand there. He'll smile if he's asked to or if he's in a good mood. This kinda is more of a cultural thing for him, though- Infralanders don't care much about that kind of thing unless it's for documentation purposes, so you won't find many Infralanders into photos in general. Likewise, Zigzag's really only gonna take pictures of things if he might need the info for later. If he's feeling mischievous he might take a photo of someone in the middle of doing something really goofy, point and laugh at them, and then leave before they can react. (It's more of a silly/light teasing behavior on his part than a purposefully mean one, though- if the person isn't cool with that he won't do it.)

🎭 Do they act differently around certain people? what’s different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.?

[ARCTOS]

Arctos is quiet, shy, reserved, and wary around most strangers. It's what allows him to fade into the background, because he really doesn't like attention that much. He's very formal too. With friends and people he personally views as family, he's a little more open, but he still hides a lot. He does not like being vulnerable, even around those close to him- but those who are close are inevitably gonna see it at some point. But this also means they get to see him laugh sometimes, which is pretty rare, but a hint he enjoys a person's company! He's also good with kids and very patient and nice with them.

If he doesn't like you he is not going to hide it. He glares, he flicks his tail in annoyance, and he'll make flippant comments- but he'll tolerate you if you're not an active threat, and he's open to reasoning. If he hates someone, his politeness flies out the window, and things get a little scary. He'll be very direct about wanting you dead, and if he curses (something he rarely does), this is an indication that he is totally, completely, and wholeheartedly sick of your shit. With Orubrus, he's more on the flippant side instead though- he does violently hate the guy, but the two have just fought so much and that kind of unrestrained hatred eventually gets draining, y'know.

Clara's really the only person he ever loosens up around. His humor's a little more open when he's around her, he's much more talkative, he's significantly more relaxed, and more willing to participate in new experiences that would frighten him otherwise- he is also more willing to listen to her than he is with most people. Her presence also makes him way calmer and his temper eases up a lot more.

[ZIGZAG]

This varies greatly. Around most strangers (civilians he reads as harmless/not threats), he's courteous and casual- really just chill, normal guy behavior. He's particularly respectful of the elderly, and around those people, he has the disposition of a polite country boy who you'd never even come close to guessing is a mercenary who regularly gets in gun and fist fights- he even dials the cursing all the way back. This is reflective of how he acted with his actual family when they were alive, and the fact that he lost his family is probably part of why he's like this. He does not know how to handle kids. At best he has "cool uncle who's a slightly bad influence" energy. At worst he is at the mercy of the kid in question and helpless to stop them while they run amok.

With friends he loosens up and he'll make playful jabs at them, but nothing mean-spirited. He's at his most laid back around people he trusts, but he still withholds most of his super personal information unless he's extremely close with someone, so people rarely get to see his more emotional side unless they spend loads of time around him. He's troubled and he doesn't want to "burden" other people with that kind of thing.

If you're his enemy and he knows this kind of thing bothers you, he's gonna make rude and crass jokes about you. Insulting nicknames, making fun of you, doing anything possible to rile you up. Because it's funny

#dillo you're my RP buddy you already know some of these things-- #BUT THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME A CHANCE TO SPEAK ABOUT MY DUDES REGARDLESS...... ;v; #wilde answers #ask game

[imagining-in-the-margins]

what do the checks next to your name mean? just curious !

They just mean I paid $8 to show that I'm in a silly goofy mood 🤡 I was promised they would turn to crabs one day... so we are waiting...

#answer #answered

[ghost-of-you]

JSJSKSJJSKSJDHJSJ FR!!

i was thinking about this like a week ago when i was making breakfast my brain suddenly, out of nowhere went: 5sos6

and i was oh shit that's something that'll eventually happen. and then i went on thinking of what the sound would be like the influences etc until i thought: wonder how they're gonna name it after the band this time jsjsjs

I think about this randomly since they confirmed 5sos5 as the album name because like 5sos6 feels so weird?? And i was thinking if there was a way for us to nickname the next era 6 themed and self title adjacent since they are all "let's self title out whole discography" without calling it 5sos6 and honestly i even contemplated how possible it would be for them to name an album like an acronym using their last name initials or what were the odds of them just going fuck it and calling it 5sos just because they were in a silly goofy mood. I think it was @bandsanitizer that said it back when the name 5sos5 leaked that they should call 5sos6 bus but stylized 6us for the metaphorical bus and honestly an inside joke could also work as self title adjacent. But I'm really curious about their plans about it since we are going 3/5 self titled albuns.

#if you push the boundaries we can make it 4/5 because they do sound good and feel good lol #honestly someone get me an interview with these men #they would hate me by the end of it but it would be so entertaining for us to watch lol #seriously cant think of another way for them to self title but who knows maybe they can lol #i was asked #ana 💜