Steven Is So Cute 🥹 I Loved It!

Ugh, the cutest thing I've read today 🥹❤️

♡ asking steve harrington to be your first kiss!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒.

pairings ; steve harrington x shy!reader 

warnings ;  friends but with mutual pining, shy!reader, first kiss, food, pet names, mentions of steve biting ( i promise it’s just a wee joke and isn’t as weird as it might sound. )

word count ; 1704 — whoops.

additional notes ; i swear harmonia, i see your concepts and stuff in people's asks and i think you're literally the best at it so thank you so much for sending this sweet blurb idea through <33

“stevie?” you ask into the empty air, tearing your eyes away from the view in steve’s passenger seat as you previously pondered silently. “mhm?” is all he mumbles back, to show he’s listening while scooping another spoonful of the chocolate ice cream from his tub.

you weren’t sure why you were having ice cream on a cold winter’s night, but steve had suggested it and you never tend to question steve’s random motives as such. your half-eaten raspberry tub rests on your lap, slightly melted from neglect during the reverie you coaxed yourself into. parked atop a hill overlooking the town below the moonlight.

you don’t continue at first, looking down to your knee which now bounces anxiously. and with the extra space of silence, steve looks up from his ice cream, eyes peeking beneath the strands of hair that poke his face.

sitting the tub into one cup holder, steve moves back against his seat, one hand beginning to drum the steering wheel aimlessly while he watches your body language. “you don’t like it? thought it was one of your favourites?” steve continues worriedly, and nods towards the dessert in your hands.

you shake your head, ushering it into the cup holder beside his with a very small, “no, no. i do… i’ll have it in a second.”

“okay.”

the car falls silent again, steve watches as you slump against your seat and lose yourself in the view again. however, steve can tell it isn’t the landscape you’re thinking of, but if only he could pinpoint exactly what you were thinking.

penny for your thoughts, steve thinks and hesitates upon saying. in the end leaving you be at first, instead reaching a hand over to your restless knee and it suddenly stops moving. steve squeezes it affectionately, a small message that he’s still listening as he turns down the radio ever so slightly.

“what was your first kiss like?” you splutter all of a sudden, voice quiet and a deep nervous inhale following. steve wasn’t expecting it, eyes blinking and eyebrows raising as he processes the question. he taps your knee once more before moving his hand back to his lap, and you immediately miss the warmth.

“eighth grade with vanessa johnson. i freaked out so bad i bit her lip and she never spoke to me again.”

with steve’s statement you giggle. of course he did just that. “you bit her?” you repeat, hand covering your mouth as more laughter falls from your lips, and steve joins you with an amused nod, “sure did.”

your hand falls from your mouth while you lean your head back to face the car roof, laughter slowly falling back down and steve can only watch you with the fondest smile. “do you bite every girl you kiss?”

“no. funnily enough it was an accident and she hated my guts for it,” steve responds to your teasing with another chuckle emitting his throat. your head tilts to the side, cheek pressed to your shoulder as you look over at him, his gaze intoxicating as he smiles so warmly towards you.

“i got much better, y’know?” steve smirks, ego boosting himself. “i know,” you reply without thinking and steve pulls a face, confusion and amusement packed into one before nudging your arm gently, “what do you mean you know?”

you laugh again, embarrassed and quietly when you reply, “high school girls locker room. steve harrington was the topic of conversation most days before gym class for the popular girls.” steve grimaces, unamused and worried about the fact that you had heard those conversations about steve’s kissing techniques.

“god, high school. don’t miss it a bit.”

you don’t reply. looking out the passenger door window and to the couple of cars upon that side, distractedly staring as you sigh sadly. and steve’s not an idiot. he’s your best friend and also someone who’s been infatuated with you for years, he can tell what you’re thinking this time.

“it’ll happen, you just need to find the right person.”

your first kiss. still in your twenties without having ever kissed someone, while others around you were now in serious relationships.

you close your eyes and sigh at steve’s words. that’s the problem; you have always had the right person but you’re too terrified to make the first move. the unbearable fear that steve wouldn’t like you back was excruciating while he dated several girls during your friendship that you hoped he would be brave enough to do something instead.

maybe he just wasn’t interested in you that way. since he had no problem asking all those other girls out, as far as you can tell.

“i have an idea.”

steve’s quiet and patient to match your timid voice, you can usually get more shy in conversations you’re scared of and he’s willing to hear you out. but when is he never. “yeah?” is all he asks, practically a whisper.

your words get lodged in your throat, how are you supposed to ask your best friend to kiss you? that’s not easy. what if he hates you after? what if he thinks you’re impatient? or what if it ruins your friendship?

you wave yourself off, cringing on yourself and about to change the subject completely while leaning a hand down for your tub of ice cream but steve grips your hand and bends his head down to meet your gaze.

“hey, hey, hey. you can tell me your idea. i won’t judge you.”

“i don’t know, steve, i—” steve turns, his body facing yours while he grips your other free hand and you follow his movements to face him more clearer. the car light was on while you previously ate and it illuminated the tanned skin upon his face, showing off the sweet dark freckles spotted across his cheek and neck. 

“i know who i want to be my first kiss.”

your forehead falls into you and steve’s held hands, embarrassed while a small ‘o’ shape forms on steve’s mouth as he thinks. “oh,” is all steve says, a pang of hurt sprawling across his chest rapidly at the word. someone. someone.

before you can lift your head to ramble an apology about how stupid it is, steve beats you to it by holding onto his pride and storing away his sadness. “any guy would be so lucky to have you, yeah? so lucky, baby. and if you know who you want to be your first kiss, i say go for it.”

steve’s ready to continue, busy trying to seem like he’s okay with this idea and not noticing that you lift your head back up to look at him properly. he doesn’t notice the way you squeeze his gripping hands or giggle at his rushed voice, he doesn’t notice anything until you say, “steve.”

it’s quiet. your voice barely audible but steve thanks his good hearing because he immediately cuts himself off to listen to you. your faces are close, his pupils rapidly moving when they scan over your features as if he’s figuring out what you’re trying to say.

“what, baby?”

“steve.” you say again, tone knowing and desperate and almost a hint of feeling shameful and steve’s eyes widen when yours fleet to his lips for the shortest second. this can’t be real, steve thinks. there’s no way.

you huff when he still sits still, hands keep holding yours tightly, “don’t make me say it,” you whine and steve chuckles. he tilts his head down, forehead pressed against yours as he replies, “oh, but i want you to say it. please say it.”

you can feel the warmth spread to your face as another shy whine threatens to break your throat, but just as you move your head in an attempt to tuck it into his neck, steve’s hands are shuffling from yours so he’s cupping your face.

“it’s okay, baby. it’s okay. i can do it, i’ll gladly do it. if you want me to?” his thumbs swipe your skin so delicately and his eyes are gazing with such a genuine stare that you feel you might crumble. with a nod, there’s a strangled sentence you let out, “y-yes. i do, stevie.”

he chuckles once more, a mixture of how cute he thinks you are but also in disbelief that he’s about to kiss you.

steve’s so slow, head tilting as he leans forward so his nose runs across your skin and you can feel the ghost of his lips closer and closer. in a warm daze, you whisper into the cold car when steve’s lips touch the corner of yours, “don’t bite me.”

you feel the curve of his smile while his nose drags down your face so he’s tucked under your jaw, both of your chests heaving with laughter. your hands reach up so they are holding onto his wrists, and he looks back up at your cupped face, “no promises, you’ll probably taste of raspberry ice cream.”

this time steve’s patience isn’t as strong, leaning forward to crash his lips against yours in what you believe will be most breath-taking kiss you could ever receive. corners of both your lips threaten to smile as you feel the sparks within your chest and squeeze the skin of his wrists.

he tastes of chocolate from his ice cream and the coffee he had earlier on and you go light-headed at the thought, never wanting to pull away. he’s so sweet and slow, lips guiding yours against his so tenderly that you pray to god it won’t be the last steve harrington kiss you receive.

you both reluctantly pull away, lungs begging to be filled with air but steve only pulls away for a moment before pecking your lips again. your mind feels foggy from the gesture that you almost don’t notice the nip to your bottom lip as steve pulls away.

you gasp mockingly, opening your eyes with steve’s smug smirk, turning his palms from your face so he can hold yours again, resting them against your lap. “i was right,” steve says, leaning forward when you dip your head to contain your happiness.

“you taste like raspberries,” steve murmurs just as happily against your lips.

⤸

taglist form . the library . all blurbs

steve harrington; masterlist. blurbs

You can't make it with me! I just cried with this!

i don’t normally like writing imagines about the aftermath of freddie’s death, but ever since hearing ‘the place where the lost things go’ all i can picture is you putting your three children to bed, and your youngest (probably aged three?) asks “mummy, why’s daddy sad?” and you haven’t told them about fred yet, it’s only the following day since he passed, so you just smile sadly and say “he’s lost something very special to him.” and they ask if they can help him find it, and you can’t help but laugh at their innocence and as you tuck them in, your oldest (probably about ten?) just looks like they know. so, you start to sing a lullaby you made up for them when their grandmother died, and soon they drift to sleep as you stroke their hair fondly but when it gets to the last verse, you notice brian/roger/john leant against the doorframe watching silently. they haven’t spoken all day, just sat alone in your room grieving.

so, you change the lyrics, ever so slightly.

so when you need his touch,

and loving gaze,

gone but not forgotten is the perfect phrase.

smiling from a star,

that he makes glow,

trust he’s always there,

watching as you grow.

find him in the place

where the lost things go.

the concept of how sir arthur conan doyle was as a person always sends me into fits. imagine making the most famous literary character of all time but you hate the character so much you try to kill him off. but everyone is so horny for this asshole detective they make you bring him back. even your own mother gets mad when he’s dead because she likes him. raising your prices to ridiculous rates to avoid writing holmes stories backfired and now you’re rich. it’s absolutely a pain because it’s keeping you from your true passion which is spiritualism despite how one of your good friends harry houdini keeps telling you it’s bullshit. you consider your best novels to be historical ones but they’re well over shadowed by the nemesis of your own creation sherlock fucking holmes. some fake photographs from some kids convinced you faeries were real and you wrote a whole book about it. you started writing stories in medical school. and yes, also you are a doctor. after you’re dead, they erect a statue of sherlock holmes across the street from your birthplace, causing you to probably roll over one hundred eighty degrees in your grave and scream into your casket pillow.

I know?! I got so upset because of the "Dave thing". They just "forgot" about the drama between Klaus and Dave. I'm so sad that Klaus got none development in the season two.

I love season two. I love it. It’s been out for two days and I’ve watched it three times already. I LOVE IT. The Vanya, Klaus and Allison trio? Diego immediately going up to Klaus? Klaus and Diego being like ‘sup new brother in law’? Five roasting his brothers? Luther becoming likable and more independent? DIEGO MEETING GRACE? Vanya becoming a more strong and stable person? They improved almost everyone’s characters and by almost I mean they completely forgot about Klaus. They showed no work on his story line and no growth in his powers even though they mention him being sober for those three years. Him and Ben really lost their closeness too and seemed rather hostile towards each other. He didn’t do anything in the end fight. They did really nothing to make the Dave plot line actually seem important. The cult? A big joke. Idk I want justice for my boi

🥺😭🥰

TO STAY | BAKUGOU KATSUKI 

pairings: Bakugou x g/n!reader

summary: If the doctor says you need skin-to-skin contact, then you need skin-to-skin contact.

from the writer: this was supposed to be a cute warm-u-up kinda thing

genre: injury fluff, hurt/comfort (?)

wc: 1k

notes & warnings: reader has cold based quirk, skin-to-skin contact, reader gets injured, not exactly romance but… yeah

“(Hero Name)!” Your eyes draw attention to the voice, and your body starts to move on instinct to the call of your name until you see the smile of an officer. “Thank you for your help. We really couldn’t have done it without you.” You nod in appreciation, still kneeling on the ground littering in the ruins of a building that was, thankfully, empty for the most part.

You blink slowly, exhaustion overcoming you. Your torso folds over your legs to cover your forearms, hidden from the eyes of other pro-heroes that had arrived on the scene to help keep the crowds back and clean up, and yet, there is one that defies them all as the fall of their footsteps ring in your ears, getting closer until you see hints of orange among black. “Hey,” You look up at him. “Why the fuck are you still keeling on the ground like a fucking pill bug?”

Continuar lendo

I can not wait for this! If you can, tag me, please. I don't wanna miss a thing! 😍

Coming Soon.

“BEST WEEK OF MY LIFE” (ROGER TAYLOR X READER)

Summary: After losing a bet, Roger has to be nice to you for an entire an entire week. He hated it at first, but he slowly begins to warm up to you.

Note: This will be out once I passed all my requirements, I’ve already started it, and this might be a series. So if you wanna be tagged please inform me!

I miss good omens. So good!

cant stop thinking about good omens so i doodled a crowley 😈

Omg, I caaaaan't. Eddie is the cutest boy! And Wayne being protective and caring. My heart just melted reading this

My Favorite Person | e.m.

A/N: This author is a sucker for a good slow burn and what could be slower than that which spans a whole freakin decade. I mean, who doesn’t love baby love? Also, the prices of the toys mentioned in this fic are based on actual toy prices from the ‘70s bc I did a ton of unnecessary research for this.

Thank you so much @mxcheese for beta-reading this!! You’re the best!

CW: potentially inaccurate portrayals of children’s conversations, brief mentions of Eddie’s shitty father, two curse words (i think???), heavy idolization of Dolly Parton, the reader’s dad is kind of a jerk to Eddie

Eddie watches you skip joyously around your fourth grade classroom, handing out the invitations for your birthday party this weekend. He’s already made peace with the fact that he isn’t going to get one this time around. Your party’s at your dad’s house this year and, due to his dad’s reputation, he isn’t exactly welcome over there. So, the way he sees it, Eddie stands about as much of a chance of being invited to your party as he does getting a date with Faye Dunaway. Despite his resigned acceptance, he can’t help but feel jealous of your other friends.

Eddie tears his gaze from you and puts his head down on his desk, using his crossed arms as a make-shift pillow. He tries to think about something other than you and your stupid birthday party, conjuring up guesses as to what his dad might serve for dinner tonight and picturing what it might’ve looked like when the mean aunts got flattened by the peach in James and the Giant Peach; the latter causing him to giggle to himself. However, Eddie’s thoughts are soon interrupted when he hears a familiar voice call out his name. Almost immediately after, he feels a tiny finger gently poke his shoulder as the smell of your apple-scented shampoo fills his nostrils.

Eddie lifts his head up out of the dim fortress created by his arms to see you standing next to his desk, smiling at him sweetly. Only then does he notice how your braids have begun to unravel and your jumper has gotten a bit of dirt on it, most likely from the exhaustive play you did at recess. He resists the sudden urge to look down at his own clothes, wondering if they got as dirty as yours did today. Probably dirtier, he thinks.

“Hi, Eddie,” you greet him cheerfully, “you wanna come to my birthday party?” You ask simply, albeit with a slight lisp due to having recently lost one of your front teeth, as you hold out an invitation to him.

“Really?” Eddie asks in disbelief as he hesitantly accepts the invitation from you, half-expecting you to yank it back from him and announce that you were just kidding.

“Yeah, of course! Just don’t get me a present that costs more than ten bucks; my daddy says that’s the only rule,” You explain, causing his eyebrows to furrow.

“Why not?” He asks.

You shrug, “I dunno, something about him not wantin’ other parents to spend all their money on me.”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie doesn’t really get that, but he nods anyway.

“So, you’ll come?” You ask giddily.

“Yeah, if my dad says I can,” He replies, causing you to flash him a grin that’s just about a mile wide, a grin that he couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Great! I’ll see ya then!” You exclaim blithely as you start skipping back to your desk. He still wears that grin on his face as you go.

In fact, that grin doesn’t leave Eddie’s cherubic, freckled face until later that afternoon, when he comes home to find his uncle sitting at the kitchen table wearing a somber expression and nursing a mug of black coffee, his dad nowhere to be found.

“Uncle Wayne?” Eddie asks as he drops his backpack off by the door.

Wayne sighs, rubbing a hand over his scruff, “Hey, kid.”

“Where’s dad?” Eddie asks curiously.

“Your dad’s in a little bit of trouble right now, so I’m gonna be lookin’ after you for a little while,” Wayne informs him as he offers him a sympathetic smile.

Eddie, however, seems a bit apathetic about the whole situation, simply asking, “For how long?” This is the third time his dad has skipped out on him this month alone, so he’s not really phased by his sudden disappearance.

“I don’t know, pal,” Wayne says truthfully.

Eddie’s brow furrows, “I got invited to a party today. I was gonna ask dad if I could go,” he informs his uncle.

“Yeah? Whose party?” Wayne asks, offering his nephew a happier smile. His smile gets just a bit wider when Eddie tells him that it’s your birthday party. He’s well aware of who you are; you’ve been friends with Eddie for a while now and he can tell you come from a good family. Or, at least, he knows that your mom’s a good lady, she’s offered to take care of Eddie many times when his dad’s gone off to do god knows what without him. Unfortunately, Wayne’s had to take her up on that offer far too many times for his liking, but she’s never minded.

“If you still wanna go, that shouldn’t be a problem, bud. Her mom’s place is only a short walk away after all,” Wayne informs him.

Eddie nervously chews at the collar of his shirt, only stopping temporarily to say, “‘S not at her mom’s. It’s at her dad’s.”

Shit, Wayne thinks.

“Can I still go?” Eddie asks, his rich brown eyes silently pleading to his uncle to say yes.

How could Wayne ever refuse him?

“Yeah, bud, you can go. I’ll take ya,” Wayne tells him and, despite having just learned about his dad ditching him once again, Eddie’s face lights up with a brilliant smile.

“Thank you, Uncle Wayne!” Eddie exclaims as he wraps the man up in a warm, grateful hug.

Wayne chuckles, “So what do you wanna get her, kid?”

The question catches Eddie off guard as he was in the middle of internally celebrating that his uncle said yes.

“What?” Eddie asks after pulling away from his uncle. Wayne gets up from his place at the kitchen table and drops his now empty mug off in the sink before turning to lean against the counter and look at Eddie.

“You got any ideas for what you’re gonna get her for her gift?” Wayne asks.

Eddie begins to panic. In his eight year old mind, this is the end of the world; he finally gets invited to a birthday party and doesn’t even know what to get the birthday girl.

“W-what- What do kids like her even like?” Eddie asks as he begins to nervously wring his hands together.

“What d’ya mean? She’s your friend, kid, surely you’ve gotta know what kind of stuff she likes,” Wayne says as his dry, cracked lips curl up into an amused smile.

“I just- I don’t- She already has so much. I mean, she gets two Christmases, you know? What if I get her something that she already has?” Eddie asks, his face scrunching up adorably as he looks up at his uncle.

Wayne chuckles, “Yeah, I know, bud. You know, you could always ask her what she wants,” Wayne offers as he moves back to the dinner table and slowly lowers himself back into his seat, Eddie mirrors him as he moves to sit in the seat just across from him.

“But then she’ll know exactly what I’m gonna get her. Doesn’t that kinda ruin the surprise?” Eddie asks, causing Wayne to sigh.

“Fair point,” Wayne pauses as he eyes his nephew carefully, “What’s the toy we kept seein’ on tv around christmas time? The one with the doll that drinks and stuff?”

Eddie snorts humorously, “Baby Alive?”

“Yeah, yeah, that one. We could get her that.”

“Too expensive, there’s a ten dollar gift limit,” Eddie sighs.

“Says who?” Wayne laughs in disbelief.

“Her dad,” Eddie grumbles.

“What kind of dad puts a dollar limit on his kid’s birthday presents?” Wayne scoffs. Eddie simply shrugs in response.

“Well,” Wayne trails off before continuing, “does she like to read? We could get her a book.”

“I- I don’t know,” Eddie sighs. He does know, you love to read and you’ve told him that many times before, but his mind draws a blank under pressure.

“I’ll tell you what… How about you do some investigating this week, find out what kinda stuff she wants. Then, when I get paid on Friday, we can go to the toy store and see if we can’t find something that she might like. How’s that sound?” Wayne asks.

“Okay,” Eddie sighs.

“Yeah? Sounds good?”

“Yeah, that sounds good, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie confirms.

“Alrighty then, use those detective skills and report back to me, alright?”

Eddie does just that. For the next four days at school, he pays extra special attention to you. So much so, that you’ve begun to take notice. Sometimes you think you can feel those rich coffee brown eyes on you and every time you catch his gaze, the abrupt flush of his cheeks lets you know that you’re right. At first, you chalk it up to him being excited that he got invited to your party. After all, the two of you didn’t get to celebrate it together last year because you’d gotten your tonsils removed a week before your birthday.

However, when you continue to catch him looking at you later on in the week, you begin to worry. And, given the fact that you’ve yet to fully learn social cues, you decide to confront Eddie on it. On Friday, after school dismissal, you catch him on the bus, sliding into the seat next to him before anyone else can take it. He suddenly looks up at you, his eyes widening slightly in mild shock.

“Hey,” you said somewhat breathlessly as you had to sprint to the bus after nearly getting on the wrong one; you were forgetful like that sometimes.

“Hi,” Eddie replies hesitantly.

“Did I do somethin’ to upset you?” You ask abruptly, catching Eddie off guard.

“W-what d’ya mean?”

“You’ve been lookin’ at me a lot, but not, like, talkin’ to me or anything. Are you mad at me or somethin’?” You ask innocently, your head quizzically cocking to the side a bit as you look at Eddie. In that moment, you remind the young boy of a puppy dog, all curious and cute.

“No! No, I’m not, I swear. I just,” Eddie trails off with a sigh, pulling his shirt collar up to his nose to hide his embarrassed blush before shyly admitting, “I don’t know what to get you for your birthday so I’ve been watching you to see what you like.”

“What I like?”

“Yeah, ya know, what kind stuff you like to do for fun and stuff like that.” He explains, his blush now spreading to the tips of ears as he lets his shirt collar slide off his nose before catching it in his mouth so he can gnaw on it nervously.

You giggle and he finds himself wondering if someone can actually die from embarrassment.

You nudge him gently with your elbow and smile at him sweetly, “Eddie you already know all that stuff!”

“Y-yeah, but I just, I don’t know what you want,” He sighs, “I don’t wanna get you the wrong thing or somethin’ you already have.”

“You could’ve just asked me what I want for my birthday, silly billy.”

“I know, but I didn’t want you to know what I was gonna get you beforehand.” He explains and you giggle some more.

“You really are silly, Eds. I would’ve just given you some general ideas, not told you exactly what to get me! I’m not dumb,” You tease.

“Oh, r-right,” Eddie stutters.

“I s’pose you don’t really need to anymore now that you’ve been spying on me,” You tease him some more.

“Well, I didn’t really come up with much. I mean, at best, I was thinking about getting you a new bookmark,” Eddie admits sheepishly.

“Well,” You trail off, thinking of some options to give him, “I like drawing, so you could get me a coloring book or stuff to color with. I also really, really like playin’ board games, so you could always get me one of those. I already have Candy Land, Boggle, Mouse Trap, and Operation, so don’t get me those games. Or you could get me a new doll, my brother ripped the heads off a few of mine, so I need to get some new ones,” You ramble on about gifts that he could get you for the majority of the bus ride home while Eddie just stares at you with comically wide eyes, desperately trying to follow along.

Finally you inhale a big breath, slightly winded from your incessant talking, and flash him a warm small. “Really, you could get me just about anything and I’d still be your best friend for life, Eddie,” You inform him.

“For life?” Eddie asks, tone laced with uncertainty and disbelief.

“Mhm. Forever and ever, amen,” You reply while doing your best imitation of a pastor on sunday morning; your tone a theatrical combination of pomposity and nobility. Eddie giggles in response.

All too soon, the bus turns onto your street and pulls to a stop near the curb. You let out a dramatic sigh, disappointed that your conversation is, in your opinion, cut short, before flashing Eddie a smile so bright it nearly blinds him. “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” You remind him cheerfully before hopping up from your seat, grabbing your backpack, and rushing off the bus with all the other kids that live on your block.

The scent of apples stays with him until he gets off the bus at his own stop later on. Even then, he swears he can still smell it a little bit. In a way, that smell actually helps him remember what you’d told him; he mulls over the ideas you’d given him as he walks the rest of the short distance to his trailer.

Eddie wouldn’t mind having a best friend for life, especially if it’s you. He remembers that, keeps it in the back of his mind as he coaches his uncle on what to look for at the toy store during the car ride there. Technically, he doesn’t know exactly what he wants to get you yet, so he simply tells Uncle Wayne to keep an eye out for something that fits any of the suggestions you’d given him. At that, Wayne can’t help but feel like he’s in over his head.

When he was a boy, Wayne would gravitate more towards sports, mostly baseball, so all of these modern toys and games were really unfamiliar territory for him. Nonetheless, Wayne tries his best to find something that you might like because he can tell how important this is to Eddie.

They’ve only been perusing through the aisles for a measly fifteen minutes when Eddie spots the gift. An art set chalk full of all the supplies a kid could ever hope for, water colors, a few brushes, a tiny pad of multi-media paper, oil pastels, colored pencils, and even a vast array of markers, all contained in a cardboard case that’s been painted to look like it was made out of a rich, earthy wood. It’s perfect. Art class had always been your favorite in school and you’d even mentioned wanting some colored pencils to him, so it certainly checks all of his boxes. Even better, it’s only seven bucks.

Score.

Eddie’s practically vibrating with excitement as he rides back home with his uncle, hand tightly clutching onto (and crinkling) the roll of treasure map wrapping paper they’d also picked up at the store. You’re gonna love this, he knows you will. He can’t wait for you to open his present tomorrow.

When Eddie gets home that night, he sets in search of the second part of your present; a tiny little elven figurine that came in one of the boxes of mismatched toys, individuals missing from their sets, that Wayne had gotten from a garage sale a few years ago and gifted to him for his birthday. Last summer he’d shown it to you while the two of you were playing on the playground situated at the front of the park, and the sight of your eyes lighting up with wonder as you gazed at the figurine has remained engraved in his memory ever since. It’s one of his favorite toys, but he's willing to part with it so long as he gets to see that gleeful expression of yours again.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up bright and early to start getting ready for your party. He’s practically buzzing with excitement as he quickly wolfs down a short stack of smiley-faced pancakes prepared by the world’s greatest uncle, Wayne, for breakfast.

Said uncle chuckles at his nephew’s giddy excitement as he frantically searches for the perfect outfit to wear to your party, finally landing on the navy sweater that he had worn to picture day this year and his nicest pair of blue jeans. He then makes you a card out of some plain white paper, decorating it with the generic-brand crayons that Santa got him for christmas and taping it shut with the Fred Flinstone sticker he’d gotten at his latest doctor’s appointment. Eddie finishes the card in the nick of time, as not long after he’s put away his crayons, Wayne’s calling his name to let him know that it’s time to go. He grabs your presents and rushes out to Wayne’s car excitedly.

Wayne follows him out, shutting and locking the door behind him, before sliding into the driver’s seat. Eddie tries his luck at sitting in the passenger seat, but Wayne flashes him a disapproving expression and motions for Eddie to sit in the back. The young boy sighs and reluctantly climbs back there before buckingly up. Wayne then turns the key in the ignition and peels out of the makeshift driveway in front of their trailer.

The drive to your house isn’t terribly long, at least not by rural Midwestern standards. Your dad’s place is situated in the outskirts of Hawkins, so Eddie has the absolute pleasure of getting to see all the cows and horses roaming the pastures on the way there. Wayne, however, is sort of desensitized to the wonder of livestock after having lived in Appalachia for most of his childhood.

“Hey, did you know cow farts are bad for the ozone layer?” Eddie asks, offering a random, not fact prompted by the sight of the roaming cattle. Of course, it’s not entirely true, but it’s close enough.

Wayne snorts humorously, “You know, son, can’t say that I did.”

After passing a few more pastures and cornfields, the two finally arrive at your house, only to be met with the sight of a long, narrow, gravel driveway which leads past a dense patch of spruce and pine trees and up to a house with pretty blue siding. Eddie’s never seen your dad’s house before, so he’s pretty shocked at the sight that greets him. While your home certainly isn’t as big or ornate as some of the houses clustered in the local neighborhoods, it’s still pretty nice, and the plot of land it sits on is much bigger than he was expecting. Frankly, Eddie’s a little pissed that you didn’t tell him you lived on a Christmas tree farm. Not to mention, he’s starting to get the impression that you’re filthy stinkin’ rich.

Little does he know, your grandpa bought this once undesirable plot of land for dirt cheap back in the 30s and spent years fixing it up, even building that quaint little house that you call home with his own two hands. Truthfully, the house’s only luxuries are the octagonal above-ground pool your dad installed in the backyard a couple of years ago and the few acres of land that it sits on, though most of it is taken up by the rows of spruces and pines. Other than that, it’s really nothing more than a modest little ranch house, nothing too out of the ordinary for rural Indiana.

However, in Eddie’s eyes, if this is the kind of luxury that carpentry, with a side of tree farming, can get you, then he now knows exactly what he wants to be when he grows up. He even tells Wayne as much while he’s driving up the long driveway to your house, to which the man huffs out a laugh.

“A carpenter, huh?”

“Yeah, like that Jesus guy,” Eddie says nonchalantly to which Wayne lets out a proper laugh.

He’s still laughing as he pulls into the patch of short, sparse grass where the other parents have parked their cars. When Wayne unbuckles his seatbelt and turns the key, taking it out of the ignition and shutting the car off, Eddie’s filled with a mild sense of dread.

“What are you doing?” He asks his uncle as he unbuckles his own seatbelt.

Wayne looks back at him in the reflection of the rear view mirror with an expression of sheer confusion. “I’m gettin’ out the car, what’re you doin’?” Wayne asks teasingly, causing Eddie to sigh.

“Uncle Wayne, please, don’t. I promise, I’ll be fine by myself,” Eddie pleads.

“Nuh uh, I’m coming in, bud, at least for the first few minutes,” Wayne refutes. The man just wants to look out for his nephew. He knows why Eddie’s never been allowed to come over here before, knows how your dad and the rest of the adults in this godforsaken town feeling about all who carry the Munson family name, so, the way Wayne sees it, he’d be an idiot not to be apprehensive about how your dad and the other parents might treat Eddie when he’s not around.

“C’mon,” Eddie groans exasperatedly.

“C’mon,” Wayne mocks him, “I paid for that gift, the least you could do is let me see the look on the birthday girl’s face when she opens it.”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles.

“‘Sides, having you around all these trees is a hazard, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t try to climb one and break your arm again,” Wayne teases as the two of them hop out of the car, shutting their doors behind themselves.

Eddie flashes him a look of pure annoyance as they begin to walk up towards the house, “That’s not funny.”

Wayne grins, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling with the change in his expression, “It’s a little bit funny.”

Eddie rolls his eyes before walking up the few concrete stairs leading to your tiny front porch. He walks up to the front door and rings the doorbell politely with his free hand, the other one holding your gift, Wayne follows his lead. Your older sister answers the door and, honestly, Eddie and Wayne are both extremely grateful to be met with the sight of a familiar face.

“Well hey there, Sunshine,” Eddie greets her warmly by her nickname; it’s an ironic nickname, one given to her by your mom the minute she hit puberty and morphed into a mass of pure teenage angst.

Despite her perpetual moodiness, she flashes the two of them a warm grin before calling out to you, “Hey, dweeb, Eddie’s here.” She then invites them both to come inside.

Eddie barely makes it two steps past the threshold of the front door when you suddenly emerge, seemingly out of nowhere and adorned in a nice, pink dress that your mom had made for you and a cowgirl hat that, despite being the same color as your dress, is too glitzy to actually match it. Just as suddenly as you appear, you’re abruptly flinging yourself onto him, wrapping him up in a warm, albeit tight, hug. He stumbles back with the sheer force of it, but Wayne reaches out and steadies the two of you before you can go tumbling to the ground.

“You made it!” You cheer excitedly.

“Happy Birthday,” Eddie says as he reciprocates your embrace with the same level of enthusiasm, his face lighting up with a grin that seems to stretch from ear to ear.

“Hi, Uncle Wayne,” You greet his uncle politely while releasing Eddie from your crushing embrace.

You then grab one of the young boy’s hands and begin to pull him into the other room while saying, “C’mon, everyone’s downstairs. My dad decorated our basement to make it look like one of those dance halls you see in the movies, the ones with all the square dancing, and it… looks… amazing!”

You practically drag the poor kid down the stairs as you excitedly ramble on about all the decorations and party games that your dad and his girlfriend set up for your party. Wayne and your sister aren’t far behind, following you downstairs; the sound of children chattering away and country music softly playing in the background fills their ears as they descend down the stairs.

“This party has a theme?” Wayne asks your sister. All the birthday parties that he’s ever been to have been just that, a birthday party; nothing more than a cake and maybe one or two party games just to keep the kids entertained. This party, however, is impressively elaborate; from the detailed decorations to the surprisingly on-theme games, you’ve even given each kid a cowboy hat of their own to wear, though none of them are as ornate as yours.

“Yeah, she’s been begging my dad for a Dolly Parton-themed party for months now, he figured a hoedown-themed one was a good compromise,” She explains, causing Wayne to chuckle. Really, he should’ve expected that; you’ve been obsessed with Dolly ever since you heard Coat of Many Colors on the radio a couple summers ago.

As you and Eddie run off to go join your other friends, your sister leads Wayne over to the side of the basement that the adults have congregated in.

“Dad, this is Wayne, Eddie’s uncle,” She introduces him, “Wayne, this is my dad.” Having fulfilled her greeting obligations, your sister soon ditches the party to go do angsty teenage things with her friends upstairs, abandoning Wayne with your dad and the few other parents that chose to stick around.

Your dad offers him a nod of acknowledgement before asking, “You want a beer?”

Wayne curls one of his eyebrows up and eyes your dad suspiciously, “Is that a trick question?”

Your dad chuckles, “God, no, it’s just the only way I can get through these things,” He says, referencing the hoard of nine and ten year olds gathered in his home.

Your dad then heads over to the cooler sat atop the card table that the other parents are sitting around and fishes out two bottles of beer, one for him and one for Wayne. As he hands Wayne one of the beers, both men settle into a conversation about the latest NASCAR race, prompted by the Richard Petty baseball cap that Wayne’s wearing. It’s awkward at first, given both men’s preconceived notions about each other, but the tension dissipates as the party carries on.

Your dad lets you and your friends bounce from activity to activity for a couple of hours before deciding that it’s time for cake and presents. So, everyone gathers around the long folding table set up in the middle of the room, Eddie sat right by your side, all watching as your dad brings out your homemade birthday cake and begins to light the candles. Once each waxy stick is topped with a delicate flame, everyone begins to sing to you and excitedly wiggle in your seat, too gleeful to contain it. When the celebratory song finally comes to a close, you blow out your candles with the encouragement of all your guests.

Apparently no one’s ever told you how wishes work before, or perhaps you know and simply don’t care, because you immediately turn to Eddie and excitedly inform him, “I wished for a corner piece of cake and to meet Dolly.” Unfortunately, Eddie notices that, in making your wish, you failed to account for the fact that your birthday cake is round, but he still hopes that the other part of your wish will come true.

In the rare, fleeting moment of calm that settles over the party after your dad has distributed a piece of cake to each kid, you slide your seat even closer to Eddie’s before digging into your slice. Eddie flushes at the sudden closeness and tries his best to ignore how nervous it makes him as he begins eating away at his own slice of cake.

“Eddie,” You softly call out to him, getting his attention without alerting your other guests.

“Yeah?” He replies through a mouthful of sugary sweet cake.

“Are you having fun?” You ask him suddenly, your bright eyes drilling holes into the side of his head as they stare at him unwaveringly.

“Y-yeah, I’m having fun,” Eddie replies as he bashfully meets your gaze.

“So you,” you trail off nervously, your fingers dropping your fork down on your plate in favor of picking at your cuticles, “You like hanging out with me?”

Eddie turns slightly in his chair, now facing you and fixing you with a quizzical gaze, “Yeah, you’re my friend,” He reassures you.

“Good,” You practically breathe a sigh of relief, “I think next year I might just invite you to my birthday party,” You confess, whispering your words so that the other kids won’t hear them.

“Why?” Eddie asks.

“Cause I really just wanted to hang out with you today, but that’s kinda hard when all my other friends are here too,” You explain as if it makes perfect sense, which, of course, it does to you.

“Me? Why’d you wanna hang out with me?”

“Because,” You sigh, “We don’t really play together much anymore, not since school started. But we used to hang out all the time last summer.”

Eddie frowns, “Yeah, I know.”

“Why don’t we hang out anymore, Eddie? Did I do something wrong?” You ask softly.

“You didn’t, I promise. I just- You have so many friends, so you don’t really need me,” Eddie reasons, causing your lips to turn down in a frown as well. His gaze falls to his lap as he swallows around the lump in his throat.

“But, Eddie, I like you more than them,” You confess, your tiny hand, with nails painted bubblegum pink, reaching out to grasp his own for the second time today.

Eddie’s head snaps up out of shock, his gaze meeting yours once again, “You do?”

You giggle sweetly, a smile breaking out on your cherubic face, “Of course I do! Eddie, they’re not good friends, not like you are. They all think I’m weird and sometimes they pick on me because of that, but not you, you’re always nice to me. Plus, you read all the coolest books and you’re so good at everything,” You confess.

“I am?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah! Like you’re really good at skipping rocks on the lake and you play guitar, which is so cool! Oh and you always draw the coolest stuff in art class.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, silly billy, you do. Eddie, you’re like the coolest person I know, besides my momma, of course,” You tell him.

While Eddie certainly agrees that your mom is really cool, he’s never really thought of himself as being cool before.

“I’m cool?” He asks doubtfully.

“The coolest,” You reassure him, wearing the cheesiest smile on your face all the while. Eddie can’t help but mirror your gleeful expression; the two of you now grinning at each other, lost in your own little world. The two of you are suddenly pulled out of that private little world when your dad walks over and gently rests a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, honey, go on and finish up your cake now so you can open your presents,” Your dad says in an odd hybrid of a midwestern accent and a slow, almost southern sort of drawl, the kind of accent you get when you spend your whole life living on a farm in the rural Midwest, the kind that makes it sound like he’s perpetually speaking with a toothpick in his mouth and a couple beers in his system. He squats down beside you to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“Daddy.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“This is my friend Eddie,” You say enthusiastically, gesturing to the boy sitting to your left.

“Yeah, I know, pumpkin. Hurry up and finish that cake, alright?” He says in a tone that’s plenty nice, but still dismissive all the same, your smile falters at the sound of it and Eddie deflates just a little bit too.

Eddie doesn’t know what he did to make your dad hate him so much, but he finds himself wanting to apologize to him anyways. However, your dad walks away, rejoining the adults, before Eddie can even utter a word. Perhaps it’s for the best, though, because, as soon as your dad’s gone, you’re turning back to face Eddie and flashing him another megawatt smile. This smile, however, is a bit more devious than the ones you’d sported earlier on.

“Go on now, honey, finish your cake so I can open my presents,” You jokingly tell him in a near perfect imitation of your dad, one so good that it makes you both giggle.

Nevertheless, the two of you do wolf down your slices of cake fairly quickly, both eager for you to open your presents. After everyone else has finished too, you move to sit at the chair that your dad has positioned by the table that everyone had set their presents on, and all of the other kids circle around you, including Eddie. Then you finally start opening your gifts, beginning with the ones sitting closest to you on the table. You end up opening a few gifts before you finally get around to Eddie’s. They’re nice gifts too. Ellie Wilkinson got you a brand new doll house and Isaac Donaldson got you a chemistry set.

So much for that ten dollar limit, Wayne thinks.

After seeing all the nice gifts that the other kids got you, Eddie’s left feeling a little insecure about what he’d gotten you. However, the pure joy that radiates from your entire being as you rip off the treasure map wrapping paper of his gift, along with the mile wide smile that lights up your features as your gaze rests on the art set he got you, serves as the perfect source of reassurance. Your joy increases tenfold when you spot the wizard figurine that Eddie had snuck in with the art set.

Wayne immediately recognizes that little figurine and fixes his nephew with a look of pure disapproval from across the room. However, Eddie can’t find it in him to feel guilty or ashamed for going behind his uncle’s back, not when you’re smiling so sweetly.

“Who’s it from?” You ask excitedly, your feet tapping against the floor in a speedy, energetic rhythm.

“Read the card, honey,” Your dad tells you as he hands you the card that Eddie made for you this morning. You grab it from him eagerly and open it, reading the words written on the inside of it aloud, “Happy Birthday,“ you read your name as he’s written it on the card, following it with, “Love, Eddie Munson.”

In a flash of pink, you’re hopping up from your chair excitedly and bounding over to the curly-haired boy dressed in blue.

“Eddie, you are my favorite person alive right now!” You cheer gleefully as you catapulte over to him with your arms outstretched; once again, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug.

While that’s not exactly the lifelong best-friendship you’d promised, Eddie thinks being your favorite person for even a moment might be worth losing his favorite action figure.

Today I re-watched 200 Cartas: Looking for Maria Sanchez and I love Raul so much. He is funny and cute, so cute. Yet I can't find a fanfic with him. I need it so muuuuch!

I don't know, maybe one where y/n is Juan's (Raul's friend) sister and likes Raul, but don't have courage to tell him that and they go look for Maria and both of them get together in the end.

Or one where Raul meet y/n in Puerto Rico when he is looking for Maria, y/n is friend of one Maria or help him somehow...

I really don't know I just need Lin-Manuel as Raul contents.