I Want To Cover You In Weighted Blankets, Light Some Candles And Lay Beside You. Let Me Play With Your

Getting home from work late one night to a quiet house. The lights are on in the living room, leading into the kitchen where you find a note on the fridge, written in Eddie’s messy chicken scratch letting you know a plate from dinner was in there for you, just needing to be heated up.

Deciding dinner can wait a few more minutes, you make your way upstairs, determined to get out of these clothes after too many hours of them sticking to you. Determined to see that sweet face again.

More quiet.

“Baby?”

You call softly before nudging the bedroom door open to a sight melting you on the spot immediately.

The bedside table lamp was the only source of light in the room, casting it in a soft golden hue. The radio is playing, volume only up high enough to just fill the silence in the bedroom. A book sits on Eddie’s chest, still opened to whichever page he left off on before dozing off.

He’s sound asleep in his baggy Iron Maiden tee and flannel pajama bottoms, partially sitting up against the headboard, leaning toward your side on the pillows. His hair is sits perfectly on the top of his head in a messy bun, pieces falling down into his face. His mouth is slightly opened as gentle snores leave him, and if you were to look hard enough you would see he’s drooling, the evidence of how hard he’s sleeping trailing down the line of pink scars.

And to make the moment even sweeter? His shadow, the tiny gray kitten, is curled up in a ball against his neck.

Your heart aches at the scene, seeing Eddie so at peace, something that can be so rare with the nightmares that still plague you both.

You blow a kiss toward him, deciding it best to leave him be for now before shutting the door quietly and making your way back downstairs to your dinner.

immortal sukuna who — in your first life (1).

immortal sukuna masterlist

immortal sukuna who has had to live multiple lifetimes with you.

immortal sukuna who became blessed with immortality as he nearly died.

immortal sukuna who was found by you all alone in the mountains.

immortal sukuna who is stunned when you took him in.

immortal sukuna who has never had anyone be kind to him before.

immortal sukuna who becomes fond of his life with you.

immortal sukuna who finds happiness in making you happy.

immortal sukuna who falls in love with you, the only person who cares for him.

immortal sukuna who feels the happiest in his life when you tell him you love him too.

immortal sukuna who lives a peaceful life with you.

immortal sukuna who dedicates his everyday to you.

immortal sukuna who realizes your mortality when you suddenly get ill.

immortal sukuna who begins to dread the fact that you will end up getting old and leave him.

immortal sukuna who cannot bear the idea of parting from you.

immortal sukuna who is devastated when you suddenly pass.

immortal sukuna who felt devoid of meaning the moment you left him.

immortal sukuna who realizes that he still wants to take care of you, even if its on a graveyard.

immortal sukuna who wishes you could meet again one day, if you get reborn.

immortal sukuna who tries to remember what you looked like or what you sound like.

immortal sukuna who prays to any god out there that they reunite the two of you.

immortal sukuna who thinks even one moment with you again would be worth his entire immortal life.

immortal sukuna who would wait forever if he had to, just to have you back in his arms again.

Summary: To Eddie, his birthday had never been something out of the ordinary. Until the big 4-0, when a little heart-related incident lands him in the hospital, where he receives an unlikely birthday gift in the form of his high school crush being his nurse. / This is my entry to @corrodedcoffinfest's pop-up birthday boy event! Prompts: Age 40; “Seriously? Age is just a number.” | Word Count: 3k | Rating: General audiences | POV: Eddie | Relationships: Eddie Munson x reader/female!reader | CW: Eddie is hospitalized but there’s nothing tragic or graphic going on, it’s described that he has a heart condition, 40 year old!Eddie, nurse!reader, she/her pronouns used to describe the reader, reader is in her late thirties, friends to lovers, mutual pining, sorta meet-cute, meeting again after high school, mentions of Eddie drinking and doing drugs, mentions of his childhood. / HUGE HUGE shoutout to @eddiemunson-reader-shame for beta-reading, an actual lifesaver!!!

“Age?” 

Eddie is barely lucid. His sight is still a white, blurry blob that makes his eyes sting. Lighting in hospitals has always been dreadful to him; way too fucking bright if you ask him – making him feel like he’s in that one scene from Jacob’s Ladder. Now that was a good movie, he thinks. Good one to watch when you’re high; sorta like how he’s feeling at the moment. The doctors must have hooked him up real good. 

This train of thought makes him realize he’s slowly returning to earth, little by little, though he has to squint and loll his head to the side trying to follow the distant sound of a nurse with a pretty voice trying to poke him for info. 

That soft, melodic murmur is soothing the erratic beating of his heart. Earlier the pain felt as if he’d had an iron fist twisting up his heart again and again until he couldn’t breathe. Although the paramedics in the ambulance assured him that his vitals were fine upon their arrival, he swears that if they had taken a second longer, he might have been walking up those steps that Led Zeppelin was talking about. If he was lucky, that is – ‘cause, boy, he’d be pretty bummed if he was sent over to AC/DC’s highway. 

It no longer feels as though his heart has turned to stone, but it still aches when his chest rises and falls with every strained breath; his voice is barely above a whisper as he rasps, “Come again?” 

“Your age, Eddie…” 

The faintest smile tugs at the corner of his lips. 

“The big 4-0, baby,” he croaks; the irony of the situation makes him shake his head with amusement. 

“Turned 40 today and my body decided to give me a little surprise…” 

It was just another day. It was supposed to be just another day. 

Ever since Eddie was a boy, he had never felt like his birthday was something out of the ordinary – never thought it to be special at all. His father certainly never cared, and his childhood is so cloudy from the early years of abuse that he barely remembers how his mother celebrated with him. There was always a homemade cake that was never really as sweet as he would’ve liked. No presents. Only a photograph survives, faded with time, of his mother embracing him from behind while he blows on his three birthday candles; a crooked, iridescent party hat sitting amongst wild curls, with the tip of it poking his mother’s eye and making her laugh.  

Birthdays with Wayne were infinitely better, but he still didn’t think much of the date until Wayne reminded him either during breakfast or on those special occasions when he’d pick him up from school. He’d ask Eddie about what he wanted, and Eddie always replied in the same way: I don’t care for my birthday, I just wanna spend some time with you. Wayne delivered each time. Although he made an effort to have presents despite Eddie’s insistence  – just one – each more meaningful than the last, every year. He knew Wayne slaved away at work for months in advance to be able to afford them, but truly, Eddie was just grateful for his uncle to be there. The cake was still homemade, straight from a box, but a little bit sweeter. Or maybe it just tasted better accompanied by a beer. 

Perhaps it was those little indulgences that started far too early in his teens that brought him here – the drinks and drugs passing his body the bill after all these years. 

“You oughta be careful, son. Your body is keeping up the score,” Wayne would say. 

And it’s not that Eddie was an alcoholic or an addict, not in the least. He swore to himself that he would never ever be like his deadbeat dad, even when he saw more traces of Al Munson each time he looked in the mirror as he got older. Especially now that his curls only grew above his shoulders, sprinkled in with those few pesky little silver hairs.

But he never abused like his dad did. If he had an extra beer bottle on nights he worked late at The Hideout, it was just to numb his aching muscles. If he finished a whole pack of cigarettes by noon it was to ease his anxiety whenever he was contacted for drugs, hoping it wasn’t a set-up by a cop. If he stole some samples from Rick’s stash, it was just to try out the goods, to be a good salesman, know what kind of product he was working with… Sometimes it was just a little hit to drown out the echoes of his mother’s cries that still haunted him from time to time. 

Those habits eased when he was finally able to get out of Hawkins, shoot toward the other end of the country, and land himself a job as a radio host at Rock 105.3 in San Diego. The joyous laughter of his co-workers was a far better dose against those haunting cries swirling through his memories. He could say he was happy now, but his birthday remained just another day.  

Except for his big forty, it seems. He can’t help but chuckle weakly to himself. Wayne was right about the body-keeping-score thing and all that. 

He was going over the set for tomorrow’s Sunday program when, out of nowhere, he started to feel dizzy and short of breath. The cd’s in his hands fell with a loud clank that got the attention of his co-workers rushing just in time to catch him doubled over his desk, face contorted in pain as he gasped for air while desperately pointing to his heart. 

The paramedics quickly stabilized him; he was doing better in the ambulance, and the episode didn’t last as long as he had thought, but it had been terrifying. Spending his fortieth birthday at the hospital was not on his bingo card this year. 

“...Seriously?” the mellow voice of the nurse pulls him away from his reveries. They really must be giving him the good stuff through that goddamn IV. 

“Thought you were supposed to be eternally eighteen.” 

His eyesight is still a bit fucked up but he can hear the smile on his nurse’s voice, which makes his chest feel a little bit fuzzy – and not in the annoying way it had felt earlier before his incident. He blinks a few times to be able to properly look at the nurse with the pretty voice. 

“Well they say age is just a number don’t they?” 

“That, they do…” 

He smirks, feeling some of his charm coming back to him when he notices how pretty his nurse is. So, so pretty it makes him feel a little mesmerized – it’s either that or the haze from the meds. 

“– Wait, what d’ya mean by that? Eternally eighteen?” 

“You don’t recognize me?” 

He frowns and blinks even faster to will his eyesight to goddamn work – he shouldn’t keep putting off that overdue visit to the ophthalmologist, resisting the fact that he needs glasses now. 

“I was a senior at Hawkins High in ‘86.” 

Eddie tilts his head; his grin widens when he spots an Iron Maiden pin on her pale pink scrubs, and when his pretty nurse smiles coyly, that’s when the lightbulb goes off in his brain.

“Wait, wait, wait…I do remember!” he snaps his fingers excitedly. 

Visions of a mysterious girl– sitting all alone on the other side of the cafeteria– flood through his memories all at once. Always alone, with a chunky pair of headphones tuning out the world. Either reading the latest issue of Fangoria magazine or drawing. A strange, alluring halo always seemed to surround her, or so Eddie always thought when he gazed at her shape, bathed by the sunlight filtering in from the cafeteria windows.

One of his biggest regrets is that he never got the balls to approach her. He has never, ever been all that smooth, but he didn’t think himself shy when approaching someone he was interested in. She was the exception. It could have been so easy though, his opening was right there, in the form of the band pins and patches that adorned her backpack, similar to the ones on his battle vest. 

She was intimidating. Yeah, she was a solitary figure, but she seemed to have it all going on: good grades, hanging out with Nancy Wheeler, writing the art columns for the school newspaper… It was probably the only bit of it that Eddie ever read. Her articles were always so eloquently written and intriguing – they’re the reason he searched high and low for a copy of Eraserhead to watch. It makes him more than a little giddy for their paths to cross after all this time, but he’s sorta sad to see her here. 

“Weren’t you all geared up for like – a fancy art school or somethin’?” 

“Being a nurse isn’t fancy?” She giggles softly but tries to downplay her smile by looking down at Eddie’s incomplete file. 

“M’not saying that, it’s just…” He licks his chapped lips, aching for some hydration. Maybe he could play up his illness to get her to give him a sip of water like some bratty king. His heart bailing on him today might just have worked in his favor – a birthday gift in disguise. 

He clears his throat and shakes those mischievous thoughts away, gaze locked on hers.

“I do remember you. My brain had all the lost sheepies in Hawkins mapped out as potential recruits. But you struck me as too fancy to be playing DnD with us nerds,” he chuckles. “You were a Nancy Wheeler-type a nerd.” 

“Well…art school was my goal, yeah…” She uses Eddie’s file as a lifeboat again, but this time, a flash of melancholy passes through her bright eyes. She might be quite schooled in shielding herself, as Eddie recalls from his high school days of pining for her from a distance, but if there’s one thing he’s always been good at is his x-ray vision when it comes to invisible shields. He had enough experience building his own. 

 “But then I guess life just happened,” she shrugs, quickly changing the subject to avoid revealing more. 

She takes a moment, accidentally creating a little dog ear in the corner of Eddie’s file while fiddling with the paper, before smiling.

“But hey! You’re doing well, huh? –  generally, I mean, not, you know…” She laughs and rolls her eyes at herself, gesturing over at Eddie lying down on the hospital bed, to which he snorts and lets out a hearty laugh. He rests his palm atop his chest because it aches a bit, but he doesn’t mind. 

“I listen to the show every morning when I’m getting ready for work.” 

“Yeah? You like it?” He sits up, grinning from ear to ear. The constant beeping of the monitor charts his heartbeat, accelerating just the tiniest bit because of his eagerness. 

“I love it! It’s the highlight of my mornings!” Whatever she was going to say gets abruptly interrupted by the doctor stepping in. She steps to the side, quickly going back to finishing Eddie’s file. 

“ – Edward Munson?” 

Eddie groans at the use of his full name – one of the many reminders that he’s an old man now, even if he maintains that age is just a number. He might have more pronounced crow’s feet on the corners of his eyes and his tattoos need an urgent refresh to keep them from disappearing into his skin, but, his pretty nurse might have been onto something. He still feels eighteen years old. 

Maybe not literally though. So his doctor says, from the few bits and pieces that catch his attention. He’s mostly tuning out the man’s voice, far too distracted with the sight of his long-lost crush handling tools and equipment in the corner of the room before stepping out into the hallway. 

To his relief, Eddie’s condition is not dire; he was instructed to follow-up with a cardiologist, but he’ll be fine as long as he rests and drinks plenty of fluids. They’re just keeping him in for a little while longer as a precaution, but if the heart rate monitor doesn’t present any more irregularities, he’ll be good to go. 

The doctor had already turned off the light and disappeared before Eddie could even protest it. It was his birthday, damnit. Sure, he didn’t care for it, but he didn’t want to spend it stuck in this hell-hole either.

If there was one thing he loathed more than the blinding white hospital light, it was being left there to rest in the sullen, darkened room. 

Among the shadows, his mind could easily whirl around thoughts that were rather left untouched, like the empty memories of his mother’s embrace on his third birthday. Flashes of his father in and out of his life. The scent of cigarette smoke, clinging to the worn cotton of his uncle Wayne’s uniform, filing his nose each time he hugged him with gratitude for taking the time to be with him each year; how he misses his uncle now that he’s playing at being an adult here in California. Sometimes he thinks that deep inside, he’ll always be that three year old with a crooked birthday hat. Yearning to be cared for, to feel special, if only for one day. 

Thankfully his thoughts halt when his pretty nurse comes into the room, holding a plate with a tiny dome of Jell-O and a lit birthday candle atop it. 

“So, you can’t have any cake right now, doctor’s orders. But I thought this would do.” 

“Awww, you didn’t have to!” He’s got a huge ass grin on his face as he scoots a little to the side so she can sit on the edge of his bed. “I’m not that big on birthdays.” 

“Well, I am. I love birthdays. Make a wish!” 

Eddie leans in when she holds the Jell-O close to his face, grinning so hard that he can’t even properly blow on his candles, only managing after a couple of tries. 

“I wished for a date with a hot nurse I just met,” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully. Not his smoothest line, but what the hell. What’s he got left to lose? Besides, it seemed to work wonders when she laughed and tenderly squeezed his hand. 

“You’re not supposed to say it aloud!” 

“What? The wish? Or the hot nurse bit? Cause it’s true!” 

“You know which bit.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head; her hand nearly slips away from Eddie’s but he quickly squeezes it more snuggly, keeping her hand in his grip. “I’m so sorry but your wish won’t come true now.” 

“Who says? I might have just turned forty, but a little birdie told me I still maintain my boyish charm.” 

His nurse laughs and looks at their joint hands in a bashful manner, not letting go either.

Eddie’s mentally kicking himself for having let the opportunity to talk to her escape him when they were in high school, now that he realizes that it’s so easy. It feels as though they’d always been friends, and he can’t help but ponder over the whole ‘past lives’ shit he’s read about in some novels. 

“I like your pin…I’ve been waiting like twenty years to say that.” He murmurs, his eyes focusing on her age-worn pin with Iron Maiden’s mascot all wrapped up as a mummy – the one from the Powerslave album. 

“You have?” 

“Yeah…” He leans his head, seeking out her coy, downward gaze. “I always wanted to talk to you in high school, but never had the balls to do so.” 

“Better late than never, huh? What were the odds of us meeting again like this?” 

Eddie nods with a little snort, cause it’s like she read his mind for real. Like past lives, he’s telling ya. 

“Whattaya say, when I get out of here, d’ya wanna maybe go out for a drink or something? I wanna know all about how life got in the way of your fancy art dreams.” 

“Patients with arrhythmia aren’t supposed to be drinking alcohol.” She’s beaming with a little impish twinkle in her eye that reveals more than what she lets on. 

“Coffee, maybe?” 

“Much less caffeine!” she emphasizes with another tender squeeze of his palm. “But I can come by and make you some tea? It’s nothing extraordinary, but…” 

“I’ve never wanted extraordinary for a birthday. To be honest, I’ve only ever wanted good company.” 

“Well, I think it’s been pretty extraordinary to me…” Her gaze is unwavering now, as if she wants to reassure him that he’s special, someone worth celebrating. “I reunited with my high school crush on it, after all.”  

She’s gonna make his heart go haywire again, holy shit. 

"If you do that again, they're gonna keep me here forever..."

The heart monitor starts to beep a little more rapidly again, making the both of them laugh and smile so hard that Eddie’s cheeks hurt most delightfully.

And at the end of the day, his pretty nurse might have been right after all – this turned out to be pretty goddamn extraordinary. Especially when she leans in to give him a tender kiss on his forehead to calm down his heartbeat, only for it to have the opposite effect. 

For the first time in forty years, and from there on out, his birthday was never just another regular day for him.

dividers by the lovely @strangergraphics

Remember candygrams in high school? Imagine casually shooting your shot with Eddie by sending him one.

love will always find you when you're ready. you might question the universe why isn't it around the corner like everyone else has but when you truly find it, you'll realize why it took so much time to finally knock at the door of your heart.

So... Request.. or recommendations request.. I'm all in my feelings and need some Eddie comfort while you're dealing with a bad time of the month.

Aww, period comfort always warm my heart! Thanks so much for the request, lovely!

Eddie x fem!reader

cw: mention of reader’s period

You never considered your periods to be bad, but this month’s definitely was. The pain was almost unbearable as you laid in your bed, curled up with a heating pad while your favorite comfort movies played on your TV on repeat.

You didn’t want to bother Eddie with your problems, but he had insisted on coming over with your favorite snacks along with some pain reliever and some movies he had rented from Family Video that he knew you liked. Your relationship was still fairly new so he was still trying to figure out the whole how to be a boyfriend thing.

Once he got to your room, he laid behind you and rubbed soft circles around where your cramps were, trying to relieve any pain and it helped to some degree, but not much. You were honestly just happy to have Eddie there, knowing that he was right beside you, bringing you comfort.

He rested his head on your shoulder and moved his hands to your sides, knowing that that was there you got your worst cramps and you turned around his arms, wanting to face him. He just gave you a sympathetic smile before pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“It hurts, Eds,” you whined and he nodded, not completely understanding what it felt like but sympathized because he knew that you had a high pain tolerance.

It was times like those where he wished he could take your pain and give it to himself so you wouldn’t have to endure it anymore. He hated seeing you like that, so unlike yourself, so fragile. He almost felt helpless, unsure if he was actually doing anything that was making your feel better, but trying his best.

“I know, baby,” he cooed. “What do you need? How can I help?” Those were always his questions during that time of the month, being nothing but caring and helpful. He wanted to do whatever he could to make you feel better even if what you wanted from him didn’t necessarily work.

Eddie flipped onto his back and took you with him, causing you to straddle his waist, knowing that sitting like that was always helpful to your cramps. His hands rubbed up and down your back as you laid your head on his chest, resting your hands on each side of your head.

The position wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was definitely preferable to the almost debilitating pains you were feeling all over your body. Especially your stomach. Having it pressed against Eddie’s relieved a lot of the pressure that you were feeling laying on your side and you wondered how he always knew what you needed before you did.

“Better?” He asked, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Much, thank you.” You let out a contented hum and you snuggled closer to him, finally feeling comfortable enough to fall asleep. You drifted pretty quickly and Eddie continued to lazily draw patterns along your back as you slept, knowing that it always helped you sleep.

You woke up from your nap, unsure of what time it was, but considering that it was now dark outside, you knew it was night time. How long had you slept? And why didn’t Eddie wake you? Apparently he thought you needed the sleep.

You removed your head from Eddie’s chest to see that he had fallen asleep as well, soft snores falling from his lips. You watched him for a second, admiring how at peace he looked and wondered if you looked that cute when you slept.

His eyes slowly opened and he gave you a smile, which you returned. He then pulled you in for a kiss before resting his forehead against your own, his eyes boring into yours.

“I love waking up and seeing you here.” Your heart melted at his words, loving that he was able to just say what he was feeling, not holding anything back.

“Me too,” you nodded. You could see it all, the two of you getting married and buying your first home together. Feeling so in love with each other that you decide to start a family, two kids who race into your room in fits of giggles as they climb onto your bed, snuggling up with you and Eddie. It sounded so perfect, like a dream.

“Think I could do it every morning and never get tired of it.” You felt the exact same way.

“Eddie, are you asking me to marry you?” You joked, but he wasn’t laughing.

“So what if I am?” What were you going to do? Say no?

“Then I’d have to accept.” You pressed a kiss to his lips them laid your head on his shoulder, hoping and praying that he’d buy you a ring to make the proposal real.

another eddie thought.

eddie munson who had to have his head shaved bc his curls were matted so bad when he was younger. as soon as he got taken in to wayne’s care, after spending nearly a year with his dad, his hair was beyond gone. barely brushed, just neglected.

wayne, bless his heart, tried to detangle it. he knew how eddie liked his long hair, he didn’t want to shave it. he even took him to the beauty salon, the beauty school up the road, tried to get them to detangle it. two deep conditions and an hour later, the instructor told him the best they could do was shave it, send him with some product on how to care for it in the future.

eddie was devastated, wayne was guilt ridden, and eddie’s locks were now shaven off right before he had to start at the middle school.

from that point on, eddie was nearly neurotic about brushing his hair every night. getting every single tangle out. ripping through the curls until it’s smooth. frizzy and slightly damaged from the tension, sure, but smooth.

at first, it’s something you try to talk him out of. “you’re ripping your hair out.”

“it’s fine.” eddie grunts, paddle brush tearing through the base of his neck, the most matted and tough curls. “rather lose a little than have to shave it all off again.”

he tells you the story, once, after that. one that leaves your heart aching, despite how he tries to shrug it off. insist it’s not a big deal, that it didn’t bother him- how his father’s neglect hurt him yet again, even after he was taken in with wayne. you know better.

you don’t try to fight him on it anymore. instead, every night, it becomes a ritual that you brush his hair for him. a far gentler touch, more patience to work out each curl and tangled strand. grasping at the base of his head to keep it from tugging and hurting so much.

it’s soft and intimate. leaves eddie’s chest with a warm, gooey thick feeling, and his eyelids fluttering with sleep. trying to keep his head up while you brush his hair, scratching at the scalp, always pressing a kiss to his part when you’re finished.

I imagine Nanami being the type to have his eyes set on someone and fully devote himself to that person. Nanami Kento doesn’t mess around, no funny business, and he’s straight to the point. So if he likes you, he likes every part of you, every inch of your body, every thought that roams in your mind.

Nanami is proper and respectful, he’s attentive to both your and his needs in whatever it is. You need a glass of water, he’s on it. You need help cleaning up the mess from dinner, he’s there cleaning alongside you. You want a kiss, he’d give it to you so long as you ask. A soft, delicate peck placed on your lips, cheek, or forehead.

Nanami keeps the hot, heavy kisses for moments when you two are alone and when the timing is right. When it does happen, it’s when he initiates the action and he’s very respectful about it. Hands-only grazing places he knows you’re comfortable with, although he knows you enjoy his touch in every place, Nanami keeps his composure and continues to act formal till he’s certain you both are ready to go further.

I imagine Nanami not being clingy in public but he’s still very attentive to you and the hand that grips his. He grocery shops with you and buys you jewelry that you pass when window shopping. Nanami is only cuddly in private, but when you pull yourself closer to him while out on a date he is sure to enjoy the sight that is you. A small hue of pink on his cheeks is sure to show and maybe for a second, he considers pulling away out of embarrassment but only for a split second before he melts into your touch. A kiss on the cheek will for sure make him turn the other way as he regains his composure.

“We’re in public.” He’d think to himself as you chuckle at the sight of Nanami shying away from you.

Nanami is a proper, professional man. He always presents himself with confidence in front of you. He tries exceptionally hard to express his emotions to you in ways you can understand without using many words. Nanami always says the right things to have you smiling and happy with admiration for him. With all the words Nanami Kento can tell you, one thing is for certain and it’s as clear as day for you.

“I love you with every part of my being, darling.”

some nerds in love, anybody?

You call Eddie Jupiter - the planet, not the god - and depending on who asks him why exactly that is, he either answers 'None of your business,' or 'Because I'm massive' with a stupidly smug grin that is so incredibly stupidly smug because it's not even a lie albeit not all of the story.

Jupiter spins faster than any other planet in our solar system and so does Eddie's mind, manifesting in ever-tapping feet and fingers and the quickest mouth around.

Jupiter has many, many moons most of them small; like his Hellfire kids. What started out as collecting strays in High School has now become a project hosted by the local youth club and you have long lost count over how many kids orbit him on the regular. And then there are the big moons: Ganymede (Jeff), Io (Erica), Europa (Ronnie) and Callisto (Gareth, who's also amazing on guitar, as it turns out)

Jupiter has Rings. Fainter than those of Saturn but Eddie's ring collection changes from big, loud and clunky to... less big and... less clunky over the years.

Jupiter's magnetic field is the strongest in our solar system and you just can't fucking stay away from him... (It's not called Eddy Currents for nothing, right?) (Same goes for gravity, of course.)

Jupiter's days only last 10 hours and time fucking flies when you're with him, always seems to pass too fast.

"And Jupiter is fucking beautiful," you say and Eddie tries to hide the blush high on his cheeks by pressing a kiss to your temple. "There is more!"

"Hmmm, there is always more inside that head of yours," he cups your cheeks, presses two quick kisses to your lips and your foreheads together. "But I have to shut you up now... feel like crashing into the sun..."

Rintaro has no idea what’s coming to him.

So far, there’s been three videos about couples breaking up on your for-you-page, full of tears and heartbreak and anger as you scroll. You try not to linger on these videos for too long, lest they mess up your perfected algorithm, but for some reason, they always find their way back to you.

You don’t know how, or why he would… but you blame Rintaro.

With a huff, you throw your phone back onto the couch and stomp your way into the kitchen, where Rintaro doesn’t even spare you a glance. He merely takes a bite of his sandwich and continues to scroll on TikTok.

“Hey baby,” he says, mouth full of food. “What’s up-“

He’s cut off by you gripping his collar sharply, pulling it taught and pulling him with it. He whimpers and his eyes bug out of his skull, but he doesn’t say anything as you lean down to be face to face with him.

“Listen to me,” you snap, trying not to laugh at the way his puffed cheeks turn up to look at you. “We’re not breaking up.”

“…okay?” He whines a small laugh.

“Listen.” You pull his collar tighter, and he starts to giggle nervously, his cheeks growing bigger as he tries to swallow the bite of food in his mouth around your choking. “If you’re sick of me, take some medicine. If you’re bored of me, go play a video game. If you’re tired of me, take a nap. We’re not breaking up. Not now, not ever, do you understand me?”

He nods around his laughter, trying so hard to weasel free from your gripping of his collar. His hands paw at his plate for a chip to give you, in an attempt to satisfy you, but all you do is click your tongue.

“Do you love me?”

He can’t respond around his laughter.

“I said: DO YOU LOVE ME?!”

Finally, he’s able to nod and choke out a ‘yes,’ bringing the chip to your lips. “Okay,” you whisper menacingly, slowly releasing his collar and taking the chip from his fingers. “I love you too.”

“My throat hurts now,” he pouts.

“I’ll baby you once I’m done fixing my for-you-page,” you promise, kissing his head and leaving the kitchen, leaving him to process what just happened.

-

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