Stranger Things

20s | INFJ | Trying this fanfiction thing out

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

YOU'RE SUCH AN EGG HEAD

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: I wrote this in 2023; it was the first one shot (?) I ever wrote and first fic related to the rewrite. I didn't have a name for Diana yet, which is why it is in first person. My writing schedule didn't go according to plan with my dwindling mental health, but I wanted to post this as a thank you for everyone who continues to read my Stranger Things Rewrite!

This takes place after the events of Season 2 after the Snow Ball but before Christmas.

Please let me know what y'all think :) Happy Holidays!

Warnings: Extra Fluff

Word Count: 4483

Masterlist

Sunday December 23, 1984 

There was an unspoken rule in our house: No Christmas music before December 1st. Although I don’t know who made the rule but part of me thinks it was Dad because he doesn’t like the holiday season. He thinks it’s too stressful with all the decorating, baking and gift wrapping. Dad hates gift wrapping. He says there’s no point when it will all be torn to shreds anyway. Christmas is my favourite holiday. I love everything about it. The Christmas music, gift wrapping, decorating, but especially baking. 

Every year for as long as I can remember I would help Mom bake Christmas cookies for the family and our neighbours. Gingerbread cookies, peanut butter blossoms, molasses cookies, sugar cookies, white chocolate and cranberry cookies, chocolate crinkle cookies and classic chocolate chip cookies. As of three years ago, Mom gave me the responsibility of doing all the Christmas baking. A responsibility I hold near and dear to my heart. This morning, I woke up bright and early to start with chocolate chip cookies for the Byers family, they are on the cooling rack. Now, I am scooping the dough of the peanut butter blossoms for Dustin and Miss Henderson onto the parchment paper. I count a total of 12 evenly divided circles. 

To me, baking is an intimate activity. A love language. A meaningful relationship between a person and food. It helps me relax; the process time consuming. I am undisturbed and in a different world. The doorbell ringing pops my domestic bubble. I frown peering down the foyer at the front door. Mom, Dad and Lucas wouldn’t ring the doorbell. Erica wasn’t expecting anyone. I wasn’t expecting anyone either. Eddie was busy running errands for his uncle Wayne. It couldn’t be him. I freeze feeling a shiver run down my spine. The past year has been filled with monsters and alternate universes. I take a deep breath and remind myself that the Hive was gone. Steve, the kids and I burned it down last month. Will was safe with my brother at Mike’s house. Billy will never come near me or Lucas ever again. It was all over. A Demogorgon cannot knock on a door and wouldn’t. Not even if it were D'Artagnan. 

I walk toward the front door, wiping my hands on my apron before slowly turning the handle opening the door a smidge so only my eyes can be seen by the stranger. To my surprise and relief, I am met with beautiful dark brown eyes and a dazzling smile. 

“Eddie?” I say, opening the door wide. A cold breeze blows past making me shiver. “What are you doing here? I thought you were running errands for Wayne?”

“I finished them early thought I’d stop by to say hi.” 

Dark brown eyes pan down my body. I look down instantly wanting the ground to swallow me up. Not expecting company, I threw on one of the sweaters my Grandma Giselle “GG” sent from Virginia. Beneath my powder blue gingham print apron with white ruffles (also from GG) I’m wearing a baby pink sweater with baby kittens all over. The collar of the sweater is embellished with white lace ruffles making me look like Queen Elizabeth I. Erica, Lucas and Dad laugh at it anytime I put it on (Dad tries to cover it with a cough, but I know he’s laughing). It’s okay if my family sees me and laughs at me, I don’t care. I think the sweater is cute and cozy. But never did I think my boyfriend would see me in it. 

Eddie’s smile widens to a grin. Displaying his deep dimples. “I love this,” he gushes pointing at my outfit, eyes twinkling. 

I quickly cross my arms over my chest feeling my cheeks grow hot. I scrunch my nose looking down at my socked feet. GG also sent me matching socks to go with my sweater. I have two more sets in baby blue and lavender. 

“No, no. Don’t hide from me. Ever,” he says, uncrossing my arms and holding my hands. “You look cute.” 

I peer up at him through my lashes. Eddie leans back observing me once again. He sniffs the air peering around the front door.  

 “Are you baking?” 

 “Yes, I am.” I reply happily. 

Eddie stares at me, his grin unwavering. I feel myself growing shyer under his intense gaze and I want to cover myself again but he’s still holding my hands. 

I tilt my head to the side, blinking up at him. “What’s so funny? 

“Nothing.” he shakes his head, chuckling softly. “I’m not laughing. I’m smiling.” 

“What are you smiling about?” 

Eddie leans forward and my heart beat picks up speed because I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead his lips graze my ear. 

“Just happy to see you,” he murmurs. “…and your sweater.” 

“Eddie!” I exclaim wiggling out of his hold, walking back inside my house. I am never wearing this sweater again. 

“What? I love it.” Eddie laughs, closing the door behind him. “What are you baking?”  

“I’m baking peanut butter blossoms for Dustin and Miss Henderson.” I answer returning back to the counter. “I was about to put them in the oven before you rang.” 

Eddie hangs his coat neatly on the coat rack in the mudroom and pads through the foyer in his socks. A smile tugs on my lips at his ease around the house. Dad’s military training and Mom’s propriety kicked Eddie into a straight line early in our relationship. 

“Have you been baking all day?” 

“Yes. I started with chocolate chip cookies which are on the cooling rack. I finished the peanut butter blossom cookies and once they are in the oven, I am going to start making white chocolate and cranberry cookies.” 

I take the pan of dough and put them in the oven, setting the timer to 10 minutes. I turn around to find Eddie sitting on the stool in front of the counter observing the organized mess of ingredients. I place the timer on the counter. 

“Where is everyone?” Eddie asks, looking around. 

“Mom and Dad are out shopping for more Christmas lights. Erica is in her room and Lucas is at Mike’s house probably playing Dungeons and Dragons with the rest of the boys, El and Max.” 

“And he didn’t invite me,” Eddie says, holding his heart. 

“He didn’t know you were coming,” I say shooting him a playful glare. 

I clean off the counter to have a fresh surface for the white chocolate and cranberry cookies. From the corner of my eyes, I see Eddie reach towards the direction of the cooling rack. I whip my head around catching him in action.  

“Hey!” I scold, running around the counter. “No touching! Those are for Miss Byers.” I block his access before he can touch the cookies. “And you didn’t wash your hands!” 

Eddie smiles, dimples deepening on his cheeks. He looks so cute I have to resist the urge to kiss each dimple and put on my best disapproval face. 

“My hands are clean, I promise,” he replies, reaching over my barrier. 

I smack his hand the way my mom does when she catches Dad trying to steal a cookie from the cookie jar before dinner. 

“Eddie!” I reprimand. His eyes widen, baffled by my seriousness. 

“I swear,” Eddie assures me, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You baked so many. I’m sure Miss Byers won’t realize one is gone.” 

I look at him for a few seconds and slowly remove my hand.  

“Okay, fine,” I admit. “But you can only have one.” 

Eddie’s smile turns to a smirk. “How about two?” He quickly picks up two shovelling one in his mouth.  

 “Eddie!” 

His loud, boisterous laugh is muffled by the cookie in his mouth. In seeing the look on my face his laughter dies down to a light chuckle.

“They’re so small. One wouldn’t be enough,” he reasons, licking the oozing chocolate off his fingers. 

I cross my arms above my chest, walking back to the counter. I wasn’t really upset with him. I did make a lot of chocolate chip cookies for the Byers Family. I just took baking very seriously. 

 “Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, walking towards me. 

I feel his arms wrap around my waist and his chin on my head. I imagine how hunched over he must be because of our height difference. He nudges by head to the side, kissing my temple. A small smile forms on my lips at the gesture. Eddie was so loving and caring. It was one of the many things I loved about him. 

 “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “…but they taste so good.” 

I look up at him and roll my eyes playfully. The rumble of his laugh makes me giggle. 

“I’m serious,” he says shovelling the last cookie in his mouth. “These are the best cookies ever!”  

I scrunch my nose looking down. “Thank you,” I murmur. 

Eddie kisses the top of my head. “You’re welcome, cutie.”  

Eddie sits on the other side of the counter watching me set up. He told me about his day and the errands he had to run for Wayne. I listen nodding my head and asking questions as I multitasked. Eddie has been over many times since we started dating, my house being a second home to him. But he’s never watched me bake before. I feel like we unlocked a new level in our relationship. Domesticity. 

“What kind of cookies are you making again?” 

“White chocolate and cranberry.” 

“Who are these for?” 

 “Me. They’re my favourite kind for the holiday season.” 

“I can’t believe I’ve never asked you this question before, but what’s your favourite kind of cookie?” 

“White chocolate and macadamia nut cookies,” I replied.  “What’s yours?”

“Chocolate chip,” he responds, grinning. I roll my eyes fighting back a smile. 

“Eddie, can you check the timer and let me know how many minutes are left?” 

“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, squinting at the timer, “Six minutes left.” 

“Thank you,” I answer scooping brown sugar into the measuring cup. 

“How do you know how much to put without looking at the recipe?” 

I shrug my shoulders. “I’ve made these cookies so many times it all comes naturally to me.” 

I start to pat down the brown sugar, levelling it with a spoon. Eddie leans forward on his elbows watching me work. In getting to know Eddie I notice he doesn’t like to sit still for too long. Always looking for something new to do. There were few things Eddie could sit down and pay attention to for long periods of time. I mentally compiled a list: Planning Dungeons and Dragons Campaigns, reading fantasy books, Corroded Coffin band practices and gigs, eating, cooking (a pleasant surprise), and now, watching me bake. 

“Do you want to help me?” 

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, shaking his head. “I don’t think you want me to help you. I’ll ruin it.” 

“No, you won’t. I’ll help you!” 

“Okay.”  

I squeal excitedly. “Let me get you an apron. In the meantime, wash your hands,” I say giving him a warning look. 

Eddie laughs. “Alright, Alright.” 

I go to the pantry where we kept all the kitchen stuff. On a rack at the corner of the small room I find all the aprons. Most of them had stains on them, the cleanest one was Erica’s old apron. It was blue with polka dots on it. I smile taking it off the rack. This would barely fit Eddie but I think he would look adorable in it. 

“I could only find Erica’s old apron,” I call out walking into the kitchen. “I hope it’s okay.” 

Eddie looks over his shoulder throwing a rumpled paper towel into the trash can. He throws his head back shaking with laughter. 

“Is this payback?” 

“No, the others were dirty, I have to wash them. Erica’s old apron was the cleanest out of the bunch.” 

“This is hilarious,” he chuckles, taking it out of my hands. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit though.” 

“You have such a tiny waist. I’m sure it will.” 

I giggle at the pink tinge on Eddie’s cheeks, walking behind him to tie the apron around his waist. Eddie was a little self-conscious about his waist, often commenting on how he needs to go to the gym to bulk up. I always reassure him that I love his body the way it is and he doesn’t need to change a thing. Eddie ties the string around his neck first, hoisting the fabric high on his chest. The waist string moved up to his stomach. I pull on the string tying it around his stomach instead. Peering over I look at him, snickering quietly. Eddie looks like an overgrown pre-schooler. I have to take a photo. 

“Don’t move. I’m going to get the camera!” 

“Diana.” Eddie groans. He always acts like he hates when I take photos, but I know secretly loves them. Eddie is just like Erica in that sense. Lucas and I love taking photos. Erica complains but always asks to take another one just in case the first one isn’t good. 

“These are memories, Eddie!” I say, grabbing the camera on the kitchen counter by the refrigerator. 

 “Uh, uh,” he refuses crossing his arms. 

 “No, don’t hide from me. Ever.” I uncross his arms. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and I kiss his knuckles taking a step back. 

“Now say cheese!” 

Eddie smiles wide, dimples making an appearance. 

“Aw, you look so cute like that!” I squeal, looking through the viewfinder. I snap the picture, waiting for the photo to develop. “Can I take another photo?”

Eddie grabs a whisk holding it in his hands like Julia Child. I take another picture laughing at his antics. 

 “Your turn,” he spoke, reaching for the camera. 

He takes it out of my hands peeking through the viewfinder. I close my eyes sticking my tongue out just as the light flashed out the camera. 

 “One more. Smile and point at your sweater,” he smirks. 

I gawk at him just as the camera flashes. Eddie cackles behind the camera pulling the photo out of the slot. 

“Eddie!” I shout, running to him. 

I try my best to grab the photo out of his hands but he was long and lithe for my short stature. Eddie’s laugh echoes through the kitchen as he squirms out of my reach. 

“Look at your face!” 

“I’m trying to!” 

Eddie hides the photo behind his back. “If I show you this photo, do you promise not to throw it out?” 

“Yes, I promise.” 

Eddie arches his brow skeptically. 

“I promise,” I assure, holding my hand up like a girl scout taking a pledge. 

“Okay.” 

Eddie shows me the photo in his hand not letting go when I try to pull it out of his grasp. I huff looking at the picture. I look as shocked as I felt in the moment. You can tell I was looking at him over the camera. I didn’t look as bad as I thought. 

  “See? You look so cute.” 

“C’mon,” I say handing him the rest of the photos. “You have work to do.” 

 “Yes, ma’am.”  

He sets the camera and photos on the farthest edge of the counter before joining me. I smile feeling his lips on my temple. Another thing I noticed about Eddie, he can’t go five minutes without touching me in some way. Whether it’s holding my hand, playing with my hair, touching my cheek, standing beside me, or my personal favourite, kissing me. Eddie bends forward resting his elbows on the counter. He gazes at me with warm affection, waiting patiently for instructions. I take a deep breath trying to rid the pink fog in my head. Over a year later and I’m still not used to the way Eddie looks at me. 

“O-okay,” I stutter, breathlessly. The corners of Eddie’s lips twitch but he doesn’t say anything thankfully; “we’re gonna start with the butter and white sugar first. I already finished measuring the brown sugar. Now you’re going to measure ½ cup of butter and ¼ cup of white sugar. When you’re done, put them all in this big bowl, okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Can I use the same measuring cup for both?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay.” 

I watch Eddie pour the brown sugar in the large glass bowl; He then proceeds to measure ¼ cup of white sugar and add it to the bowl. I hold back my smile as he hesitates with the butter, a line appearing between his brows as he thinks about what to do next. Eddie makes the cutest faces when he is concentrating. I adore the way he frowns, the way his eyes narrow at the task at hand, when his tongue pokes out between his lips. I busy myself with the eggs so it doesn’t feel like I’m hovering. From the corner of my eye, Eddie scoops the butter with a spoon knocking it against the measuring cup. He does this until half the measuring cup is full. 

“Sweetheart? How do you make brown sugar?” he asks, making sure there was half a cup of butter in the measuring cup. 

“By mixing molasses and white sugar together. If you want to make the brown sugar darker, just add more molasses.” 

“Hmm,” he muses, scooping the softened butter into the mixing bowl. “Okay, I’m done. What’s next?” 

“Now this part is very important, Eddie,” I voice, handing him the electric mixer. “You are going to use this to beat the ingredients together until they are creamy and smooth.”  

“Creamy and smooth. Gotcha.” 

I leave Eddie to mix just as the timer set went off. Quickly shoving on the oven mittens, I open the oven pulling the steaming hot cookies out. The smell of warm peanut butter and sugar floats around the kitchen mixing in with the scent of chocolate. I set the tray on the top the stove and take off my mittens before taking the small bowl full of Hershey kisses on the counter. I begin to carefully place one kiss in the centre of the cookie having already unwrapped each chocolate prior. 

“Baby, is this creamy and smooth enough?” 

I walk over to him peering into the bowl. “It looks great, Eddie,” I respond with a smile. “I’m going to add egg and vanilla quickly and then you can continue to mix. Use this,” I hand him a spatula, “to scrape the sides of the bowl.”

After I add the egg and vanilla, Eddie mixes the ingredients as I work on the flour. We work in comfortable silence and I feel happy and light thinking about all the pastries Eddie can help me make. He was already a great cook; baking was natural to him although he didn’t know it yet. 

“Baby, can you check this again?” I peer from my spot.

“It’s perfect. Change the speed to low. I’m gonna add flour.” 

“Is it only flour?”

“I put cornstarch, salt and baking soda.”

“Hmm,” he hums. 

“Keep mixing. We want soft and thick.” 

“Soft and thick,” Eddie nods. “Coming right up.”

Eddie mixes the dough together and smile at him.  

“You’re a natural, Eddie.” 

Eddie blushes, turning off the mixer. “I have a good teacher.” 

I scrunch my nose, adding white chocolate and cranberries into the bowl and set it aside too distracted to continue.  

“You’re so cute when you blush.” 

“How do you know I’m blushing?” 

“You scrunch your nose and look down,” he answers, mimicking me. 

You could fry an egg on my face the way it felt so hot. 

“I do that when I’m embarrassed,” I point out. 

“But you add a giggle like,” he imitates my giggle. 

I hit him softly fighting back a smile. Eddie was right about everything. He knows me so well, better than I probably know myself.  

“You’re such an egg head,” I comment.  

Eddie leans close. I can smell the chocolate chip cookies on his breath. 

“I’m not,” he replies, shaking his head.   

I open my mouth but couldn’t find the words to say. The corners of Eddie’s lips turn up to the familiar confident smirk he wears when he knows I’m flustered. I can’t give him the satisfaction. Not this time. I turn my head peering at the open carton of eggs on the counter. I pick up an egg, biting my lip to conceal my laugh and quickly jump up breaking it over his head. Thick, sticky globs of egg yolk and tiny egg shells slide down his dark brown curls, seeping through the strands. Eddie opens his eyes as I wipe what was left on my hands on his white t-shirt, smearing the dark yellow residue against the cotton fabric. 

“Smooth,” Eddie mumbles, nodding his head. 

My body shakes with silent laughter. Eddie reaches over to the pile of leftover flour on the counter, flicking it onto my face before I could turn around and dodge the attack. I gasp, eyes widening in disbelief, yet I am unable to contain my growing laughter. I flick flour on him as well challenging him. Eddie scoops a handful with both hands and drops it all on top my head. 

“Eddie!” I scream. 

I grab whatever I could find on the counter throwing it on him. Salt, sugar, flour, baking soda, brown sugar. Eddie wraps his arms around my body to hold me still, smearing what smelled like egg yolk all over my face. 

“Who’s the egg head now?” Eddie shouts. My scream turns into loud cackling. 

“It’s—It’s still—you!” I shout back through uncontrollable laughter. 

I try to escape from his hold but Eddie’s much too strong easily overpowering me. He spins me around laughing at my face. I must have looked as crazy as him. Flour and egg yolk with sprinkles of brown sugar on my face and in my hair. Eddie picks me up placing me on the counter, both our laughter dying down to hushed giggles. He brushes my hair out of my face gazing at me. I scrunch my nose, bumping mine softly against his before looking down. 

“That’s a new one. What does that mean?” 

“I don’t know,” I shrug looking back at him. “You tell me.” 

Eddie grins scrunching his nose, bumping it softly against mine. 

“It means,” he pauses, thinking. His eyes convey vulnerability that I only saw when he was with me. “I love you.” 

The butterflies in my stomach flutter around uncontrollably. It’s been one week since Eddie and I confessed our love for each other and we’ve said it to each other every day since. Each time either of us said it, which was plenty, my heart skipped a beat. 

“And this,” he rubs his nose against mine making me giggle and hold his face still. “Means, I love you too.” 

“In that case,” I scrunch my nose again, bumping it against his. 

Eddie rubs his nose against mine before closing the distance between us. His lips are soft and powdery. My heart feels like a jack hammer in my chest adrenaline coursing through my veins. Ever since the Snow Ball, I craved the feeling of his body close to mine in the most intimate of ways. I open my mouth deepening the kiss wrapping my arms around his neck pulling him closer.

 “Um?” 

I flinch startled by Erica’s voice, quickly grabbing onto Eddie’s shoulders to jump off the counter. The remaining flour, sugar, and baking soda fell onto the floor onto Eddie’s socks. 

“H-hey monster,” I stutter, putting my hands behind my back.

Eddie snickers from behind me and I elbow him softly in the gut. My face feels like it’s on fire and I hope Erica didn’t see anything. She was my little sister after all. Based on the bewildered expression on her face, she was more concerned about the mess in the kitchen than the fact Eddie and I were making out. 

“What are you guys doing?” 

Eddie and I look at each other grinning like Cheshire cats from ear to ear. 

“We’re baking,” I say, cheerfully. 

Erica arches her brow eying our appearance. “I can see that,” she said, observing the state of the kitchen. “You better clean up before Mom and Dad get back.”

“Yes, Erica,” I sigh. Sometimes it felt like she was the older sister. 

“Do you wanna help—” Eddie began. 

“Nope,” Erica cuts him off swiftly, taking a peanut butter blossom from the cooling rack on the adjacent counter. 

“Erica! Those are for Dustin and Miss Henderson!” 

“I’m just testing the product,” she explains, with her mouth full breathing heavily. The cookies were still hot. “Hmm, too much flour.” 

I gasp rushing beside her to inspect the blossoms. There couldn’t be too much flour. I know the recipe like the back of my hand and always put just the right amount of flour. 

“That’s impossible!” I exclaim snatching the piece of cookie in her hand to check the consistency.  

“She’s only joking, babe,” Eddie chuckles. I frown at Erica who was laughing hysterically at me. 

“That’s not funny Erica!” 

Erica takes the rest of the cookie out of my hand with a mischievous smile. I gently push her out of the kitchen so she doesn’t add to the mess. I turn to Eddie with a sigh looking at the mess we made in the kitchen. We really needed to clean it up before my parents got home. 

“I’m going to mix the rest of the cookie dough together. In the meantime, you can clear the counter and then we can tackle the rest together before my parents come home.” 

Eddie grabs the polaroid camera on his way to me. I catch a whiff of the raw eggs and flour on him and laugh scrunching my nose faking disgust. 

“You smell like egg!” 

Eddie tilts my chin up with his finger. “Well, who’s fault is that?”

I grin reaching up on the tips of my toes to close the distance between us. The kiss was intended to be chaste but the feeling of Eddie’s arm snaking around my waist pulling me against him won’t allow it. I try to pull away but that only makes him tighten his hold on me. I giggle against his lips holding his cheeks, our noses press together. A flash of light and the shutter snapping sounded in the background. Eddie pulls away taking the photo out of the camera. 

“This is amazing!” 

 “We look insane!”  

“We look like…” his eyes crinkle despite the softness in his smile. “…We’re in love.”  

I smile, even with tears running down my cheeks. I go up on the tips of my toes scrunching my nose bumping it against his. Eddie smiles rubbing his nose against mine, closing the distance between us. In love we were. 

[stevie-petey]

lucas sinclair was the real victim of season 4 he lost all his friends and the girl he loved was suicidal and he couldnt do anything to help her and he was brutally assaulted by a grown man and in this essay i will-

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

I honestly want to be unplugged. This ain’t it for me.

[dcminions]

AALIYAH

[mangiobaby-deactivated20250421]

The judge refusing to have Luigi's shackles removed due to "safety" concerns just shows how this case has been nothing but the presumption of guilt over innocence. They're trying so hard to make him look dangerous when in reality I'd feel safer alone in a room with Luigi than with any of those NYPD officers around him :/ I have no words

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

WHEN THE RIGHT ONE COMES ALONG

A/N: Based on the tv show Nashville. I had this idea sitting in my WIPs for years now. I grew up listening to country music so I absolutely loved watching the show. I wrote this as a way to escape conflicts happening at home, so it's kind of sad. But in height of Cowboy Carter and Marvel Cinematic Universe coming back, I thought I'd share this.

Warnings: Implied abuse

Bucky x Black! Reader

One Way Ticket (Because I Can) - LeAnn Rimes I'm in a Hurry (And I Don't Know Why) - Alabama

PREFACE

The sun shone down upon the open road and luscious green fields. The cool air from the atmosphere created heatwaves which hovered over the pavement like rippling water. A light blue vintage Volkswagen Beetle drove down the highway at great speeds along the white dotted lines. Inside the small vehicle sat a young woman with rich brown skin the colour of dark umber. The front windows of her car were rolled down, loud winds rushing in and out of the car whipping her long black ringlets around. The air smelled of sea salt from the Gulf of Mexico. It was the peak of summer and the humidity made it difficult to breathe despite the cool breeze circulating the car. 

The young woman pulled on her white tee shirt that clung to her dewy skin. The state of Alabama was under extreme heat warning and several radio stations warned its listeners to stay cool and listed the extended times public pool would stay open to accommodate citizens. She was finally free. Free from the shackles of her past. Bright topaz-coloured eyes glanced down at the dashboard clock, 11:10am. She had been driving for approximately six and a half hours. She was running on adrenaline and couldn’t believe she did it. She finally left home. The weight of her past fell off shoulders and she felt herself beginning to relax but not quite. 

…It’s all your fault!

Her fingers ghosted over her neck, throat tightening reflexively. The voice rang in her head echoing around her. She swallowed thickly, tears glistening in her eyes and placed her hand back on the steering wheel, tightening her grip on the hard leather. Her eyes quickly darted to the passengers seat where a road map lay sprawled across the tan leather being held down by her house keys. The map was colour coded with each colour symbolizing a different route and according to it she would be in Birmingham, Alabama in the next twenty minutes.

Reaching for the dial she turned the volume up to drown out the circling thoughts in her head, a breath falling from her lips. She silently made a vow: She will never go back again. 

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

one in a million

rockstar!eddie x famous!reader

I’d like to dedicate this song to my woman, Zeppelin Rose. I’m sorry baby. 

coming soon...

[sacred-portal]

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

YOU'RE SUCH AN EGG HEAD

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: I wrote this in 2023; it was the first one shot (?) I ever wrote and first fic related to the rewrite. I didn't have a name for Diana yet, which is why it is in first person. My writing schedule didn't go according to plan with my dwindling mental health, but I wanted to post this as a thank you for everyone who continues to read my Stranger Things Rewrite!

This takes place after the events of Season 2 after the Snow Ball but before Christmas.

Please let me know what y'all think :) Happy Holidays!

Warnings: Extra Fluff

Word Count: 4483

Masterlist

Sunday December 23, 1984 

There was an unspoken rule in our house: No Christmas music before December 1st. Although I don’t know who made the rule but part of me thinks it was Dad because he doesn’t like the holiday season. He thinks it’s too stressful with all the decorating, baking and gift wrapping. Dad hates gift wrapping. He says there’s no point when it will all be torn to shreds anyway. Christmas is my favourite holiday. I love everything about it. The Christmas music, gift wrapping, decorating, but especially baking. 

Every year for as long as I can remember I would help Mom bake Christmas cookies for the family and our neighbours. Gingerbread cookies, peanut butter blossoms, molasses cookies, sugar cookies, white chocolate and cranberry cookies, chocolate crinkle cookies and classic chocolate chip cookies. As of three years ago, Mom gave me the responsibility of doing all the Christmas baking. A responsibility I hold near and dear to my heart. This morning, I woke up bright and early to start with chocolate chip cookies for the Byers family, they are on the cooling rack. Now, I am scooping the dough of the peanut butter blossoms for Dustin and Miss Henderson onto the parchment paper. I count a total of 12 evenly divided circles. 

To me, baking is an intimate activity. A love language. A meaningful relationship between a person and food. It helps me relax; the process time consuming. I am undisturbed and in a different world. The doorbell ringing pops my domestic bubble. I frown peering down the foyer at the front door. Mom, Dad and Lucas wouldn’t ring the doorbell. Erica wasn’t expecting anyone. I wasn’t expecting anyone either. Eddie was busy running errands for his uncle Wayne. It couldn’t be him. I freeze feeling a shiver run down my spine. The past year has been filled with monsters and alternate universes. I take a deep breath and remind myself that the Hive was gone. Steve, the kids and I burned it down last month. Will was safe with my brother at Mike’s house. Billy will never come near me or Lucas ever again. It was all over. A Demogorgon cannot knock on a door and wouldn’t. Not even if it were D'Artagnan. 

I walk toward the front door, wiping my hands on my apron before slowly turning the handle opening the door a smidge so only my eyes can be seen by the stranger. To my surprise and relief, I am met with beautiful dark brown eyes and a dazzling smile. 

“Eddie?” I say, opening the door wide. A cold breeze blows past making me shiver. “What are you doing here? I thought you were running errands for Wayne?”

“I finished them early thought I’d stop by to say hi.” 

Dark brown eyes pan down my body. I look down instantly wanting the ground to swallow me up. Not expecting company, I threw on one of the sweaters my Grandma Giselle “GG” sent from Virginia. Beneath my powder blue gingham print apron with white ruffles (also from GG) I’m wearing a baby pink sweater with baby kittens all over. The collar of the sweater is embellished with white lace ruffles making me look like Queen Elizabeth I. Erica, Lucas and Dad laugh at it anytime I put it on (Dad tries to cover it with a cough, but I know he’s laughing). It’s okay if my family sees me and laughs at me, I don’t care. I think the sweater is cute and cozy. But never did I think my boyfriend would see me in it. 

Eddie’s smile widens to a grin. Displaying his deep dimples. “I love this,” he gushes pointing at my outfit, eyes twinkling. 

I quickly cross my arms over my chest feeling my cheeks grow hot. I scrunch my nose looking down at my socked feet. GG also sent me matching socks to go with my sweater. I have two more sets in baby blue and lavender. 

“No, no. Don’t hide from me. Ever,” he says, uncrossing my arms and holding my hands. “You look cute.” 

I peer up at him through my lashes. Eddie leans back observing me once again. He sniffs the air peering around the front door.  

 “Are you baking?” 

 “Yes, I am.” I reply happily. 

Eddie stares at me, his grin unwavering. I feel myself growing shyer under his intense gaze and I want to cover myself again but he’s still holding my hands. 

I tilt my head to the side, blinking up at him. “What’s so funny? 

“Nothing.” he shakes his head, chuckling softly. “I’m not laughing. I’m smiling.” 

“What are you smiling about?” 

Eddie leans forward and my heart beat picks up speed because I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead his lips graze my ear. 

“Just happy to see you,” he murmurs. “…and your sweater.” 

“Eddie!” I exclaim wiggling out of his hold, walking back inside my house. I am never wearing this sweater again. 

“What? I love it.” Eddie laughs, closing the door behind him. “What are you baking?”  

“I’m baking peanut butter blossoms for Dustin and Miss Henderson.” I answer returning back to the counter. “I was about to put them in the oven before you rang.” 

Eddie hangs his coat neatly on the coat rack in the mudroom and pads through the foyer in his socks. A smile tugs on my lips at his ease around the house. Dad’s military training and Mom’s propriety kicked Eddie into a straight line early in our relationship. 

“Have you been baking all day?” 

“Yes. I started with chocolate chip cookies which are on the cooling rack. I finished the peanut butter blossom cookies and once they are in the oven, I am going to start making white chocolate and cranberry cookies.” 

I take the pan of dough and put them in the oven, setting the timer to 10 minutes. I turn around to find Eddie sitting on the stool in front of the counter observing the organized mess of ingredients. I place the timer on the counter. 

“Where is everyone?” Eddie asks, looking around. 

“Mom and Dad are out shopping for more Christmas lights. Erica is in her room and Lucas is at Mike’s house probably playing Dungeons and Dragons with the rest of the boys, El and Max.” 

“And he didn’t invite me,” Eddie says, holding his heart. 

“He didn’t know you were coming,” I say shooting him a playful glare. 

I clean off the counter to have a fresh surface for the white chocolate and cranberry cookies. From the corner of my eyes, I see Eddie reach towards the direction of the cooling rack. I whip my head around catching him in action.  

“Hey!” I scold, running around the counter. “No touching! Those are for Miss Byers.” I block his access before he can touch the cookies. “And you didn’t wash your hands!” 

Eddie smiles, dimples deepening on his cheeks. He looks so cute I have to resist the urge to kiss each dimple and put on my best disapproval face. 

“My hands are clean, I promise,” he replies, reaching over my barrier. 

I smack his hand the way my mom does when she catches Dad trying to steal a cookie from the cookie jar before dinner. 

“Eddie!” I reprimand. His eyes widen, baffled by my seriousness. 

“I swear,” Eddie assures me, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You baked so many. I’m sure Miss Byers won’t realize one is gone.” 

I look at him for a few seconds and slowly remove my hand.  

“Okay, fine,” I admit. “But you can only have one.” 

Eddie’s smile turns to a smirk. “How about two?” He quickly picks up two shovelling one in his mouth.  

 “Eddie!” 

His loud, boisterous laugh is muffled by the cookie in his mouth. In seeing the look on my face his laughter dies down to a light chuckle.

“They’re so small. One wouldn’t be enough,” he reasons, licking the oozing chocolate off his fingers. 

I cross my arms above my chest, walking back to the counter. I wasn’t really upset with him. I did make a lot of chocolate chip cookies for the Byers Family. I just took baking very seriously. 

 “Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, walking towards me. 

I feel his arms wrap around my waist and his chin on my head. I imagine how hunched over he must be because of our height difference. He nudges by head to the side, kissing my temple. A small smile forms on my lips at the gesture. Eddie was so loving and caring. It was one of the many things I loved about him. 

 “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “…but they taste so good.” 

I look up at him and roll my eyes playfully. The rumble of his laugh makes me giggle. 

“I’m serious,” he says shovelling the last cookie in his mouth. “These are the best cookies ever!”  

I scrunch my nose looking down. “Thank you,” I murmur. 

Eddie kisses the top of my head. “You’re welcome, cutie.”  

Eddie sits on the other side of the counter watching me set up. He told me about his day and the errands he had to run for Wayne. I listen nodding my head and asking questions as I multitasked. Eddie has been over many times since we started dating, my house being a second home to him. But he’s never watched me bake before. I feel like we unlocked a new level in our relationship. Domesticity. 

“What kind of cookies are you making again?” 

“White chocolate and cranberry.” 

“Who are these for?” 

 “Me. They’re my favourite kind for the holiday season.” 

“I can’t believe I’ve never asked you this question before, but what’s your favourite kind of cookie?” 

“White chocolate and macadamia nut cookies,” I replied.  “What’s yours?”

“Chocolate chip,” he responds, grinning. I roll my eyes fighting back a smile. 

“Eddie, can you check the timer and let me know how many minutes are left?” 

“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, squinting at the timer, “Six minutes left.” 

“Thank you,” I answer scooping brown sugar into the measuring cup. 

“How do you know how much to put without looking at the recipe?” 

I shrug my shoulders. “I’ve made these cookies so many times it all comes naturally to me.” 

I start to pat down the brown sugar, levelling it with a spoon. Eddie leans forward on his elbows watching me work. In getting to know Eddie I notice he doesn’t like to sit still for too long. Always looking for something new to do. There were few things Eddie could sit down and pay attention to for long periods of time. I mentally compiled a list: Planning Dungeons and Dragons Campaigns, reading fantasy books, Corroded Coffin band practices and gigs, eating, cooking (a pleasant surprise), and now, watching me bake. 

“Do you want to help me?” 

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, shaking his head. “I don’t think you want me to help you. I’ll ruin it.” 

“No, you won’t. I’ll help you!” 

“Okay.”  

I squeal excitedly. “Let me get you an apron. In the meantime, wash your hands,” I say giving him a warning look. 

Eddie laughs. “Alright, Alright.” 

I go to the pantry where we kept all the kitchen stuff. On a rack at the corner of the small room I find all the aprons. Most of them had stains on them, the cleanest one was Erica’s old apron. It was blue with polka dots on it. I smile taking it off the rack. This would barely fit Eddie but I think he would look adorable in it. 

“I could only find Erica’s old apron,” I call out walking into the kitchen. “I hope it’s okay.” 

Eddie looks over his shoulder throwing a rumpled paper towel into the trash can. He throws his head back shaking with laughter. 

“Is this payback?” 

“No, the others were dirty, I have to wash them. Erica’s old apron was the cleanest out of the bunch.” 

“This is hilarious,” he chuckles, taking it out of my hands. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit though.” 

“You have such a tiny waist. I’m sure it will.” 

I giggle at the pink tinge on Eddie’s cheeks, walking behind him to tie the apron around his waist. Eddie was a little self-conscious about his waist, often commenting on how he needs to go to the gym to bulk up. I always reassure him that I love his body the way it is and he doesn’t need to change a thing. Eddie ties the string around his neck first, hoisting the fabric high on his chest. The waist string moved up to his stomach. I pull on the string tying it around his stomach instead. Peering over I look at him, snickering quietly. Eddie looks like an overgrown pre-schooler. I have to take a photo. 

“Don’t move. I’m going to get the camera!” 

“Diana.” Eddie groans. He always acts like he hates when I take photos, but I know secretly loves them. Eddie is just like Erica in that sense. Lucas and I love taking photos. Erica complains but always asks to take another one just in case the first one isn’t good. 

“These are memories, Eddie!” I say, grabbing the camera on the kitchen counter by the refrigerator. 

 “Uh, uh,” he refuses crossing his arms. 

 “No, don’t hide from me. Ever.” I uncross his arms. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and I kiss his knuckles taking a step back. 

“Now say cheese!” 

Eddie smiles wide, dimples making an appearance. 

“Aw, you look so cute like that!” I squeal, looking through the viewfinder. I snap the picture, waiting for the photo to develop. “Can I take another photo?”

Eddie grabs a whisk holding it in his hands like Julia Child. I take another picture laughing at his antics. 

 “Your turn,” he spoke, reaching for the camera. 

He takes it out of my hands peeking through the viewfinder. I close my eyes sticking my tongue out just as the light flashed out the camera. 

 “One more. Smile and point at your sweater,” he smirks. 

I gawk at him just as the camera flashes. Eddie cackles behind the camera pulling the photo out of the slot. 

“Eddie!” I shout, running to him. 

I try my best to grab the photo out of his hands but he was long and lithe for my short stature. Eddie’s laugh echoes through the kitchen as he squirms out of my reach. 

“Look at your face!” 

“I’m trying to!” 

Eddie hides the photo behind his back. “If I show you this photo, do you promise not to throw it out?” 

“Yes, I promise.” 

Eddie arches his brow skeptically. 

“I promise,” I assure, holding my hand up like a girl scout taking a pledge. 

“Okay.” 

Eddie shows me the photo in his hand not letting go when I try to pull it out of his grasp. I huff looking at the picture. I look as shocked as I felt in the moment. You can tell I was looking at him over the camera. I didn’t look as bad as I thought. 

  “See? You look so cute.” 

“C’mon,” I say handing him the rest of the photos. “You have work to do.” 

 “Yes, ma’am.”  

He sets the camera and photos on the farthest edge of the counter before joining me. I smile feeling his lips on my temple. Another thing I noticed about Eddie, he can’t go five minutes without touching me in some way. Whether it’s holding my hand, playing with my hair, touching my cheek, standing beside me, or my personal favourite, kissing me. Eddie bends forward resting his elbows on the counter. He gazes at me with warm affection, waiting patiently for instructions. I take a deep breath trying to rid the pink fog in my head. Over a year later and I’m still not used to the way Eddie looks at me. 

“O-okay,” I stutter, breathlessly. The corners of Eddie’s lips twitch but he doesn’t say anything thankfully; “we’re gonna start with the butter and white sugar first. I already finished measuring the brown sugar. Now you’re going to measure ½ cup of butter and ¼ cup of white sugar. When you’re done, put them all in this big bowl, okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Can I use the same measuring cup for both?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay.” 

I watch Eddie pour the brown sugar in the large glass bowl; He then proceeds to measure ¼ cup of white sugar and add it to the bowl. I hold back my smile as he hesitates with the butter, a line appearing between his brows as he thinks about what to do next. Eddie makes the cutest faces when he is concentrating. I adore the way he frowns, the way his eyes narrow at the task at hand, when his tongue pokes out between his lips. I busy myself with the eggs so it doesn’t feel like I’m hovering. From the corner of my eye, Eddie scoops the butter with a spoon knocking it against the measuring cup. He does this until half the measuring cup is full. 

“Sweetheart? How do you make brown sugar?” he asks, making sure there was half a cup of butter in the measuring cup. 

“By mixing molasses and white sugar together. If you want to make the brown sugar darker, just add more molasses.” 

“Hmm,” he muses, scooping the softened butter into the mixing bowl. “Okay, I’m done. What’s next?” 

“Now this part is very important, Eddie,” I voice, handing him the electric mixer. “You are going to use this to beat the ingredients together until they are creamy and smooth.”  

“Creamy and smooth. Gotcha.” 

I leave Eddie to mix just as the timer set went off. Quickly shoving on the oven mittens, I open the oven pulling the steaming hot cookies out. The smell of warm peanut butter and sugar floats around the kitchen mixing in with the scent of chocolate. I set the tray on the top the stove and take off my mittens before taking the small bowl full of Hershey kisses on the counter. I begin to carefully place one kiss in the centre of the cookie having already unwrapped each chocolate prior. 

“Baby, is this creamy and smooth enough?” 

I walk over to him peering into the bowl. “It looks great, Eddie,” I respond with a smile. “I’m going to add egg and vanilla quickly and then you can continue to mix. Use this,” I hand him a spatula, “to scrape the sides of the bowl.”

After I add the egg and vanilla, Eddie mixes the ingredients as I work on the flour. We work in comfortable silence and I feel happy and light thinking about all the pastries Eddie can help me make. He was already a great cook; baking was natural to him although he didn’t know it yet. 

“Baby, can you check this again?” I peer from my spot.

“It’s perfect. Change the speed to low. I’m gonna add flour.” 

“Is it only flour?”

“I put cornstarch, salt and baking soda.”

“Hmm,” he hums. 

“Keep mixing. We want soft and thick.” 

“Soft and thick,” Eddie nods. “Coming right up.”

Eddie mixes the dough together and smile at him.  

“You’re a natural, Eddie.” 

Eddie blushes, turning off the mixer. “I have a good teacher.” 

I scrunch my nose, adding white chocolate and cranberries into the bowl and set it aside too distracted to continue.  

“You’re so cute when you blush.” 

“How do you know I’m blushing?” 

“You scrunch your nose and look down,” he answers, mimicking me. 

You could fry an egg on my face the way it felt so hot. 

“I do that when I’m embarrassed,” I point out. 

“But you add a giggle like,” he imitates my giggle. 

I hit him softly fighting back a smile. Eddie was right about everything. He knows me so well, better than I probably know myself.  

“You’re such an egg head,” I comment.  

Eddie leans close. I can smell the chocolate chip cookies on his breath. 

“I’m not,” he replies, shaking his head.   

I open my mouth but couldn’t find the words to say. The corners of Eddie’s lips turn up to the familiar confident smirk he wears when he knows I’m flustered. I can’t give him the satisfaction. Not this time. I turn my head peering at the open carton of eggs on the counter. I pick up an egg, biting my lip to conceal my laugh and quickly jump up breaking it over his head. Thick, sticky globs of egg yolk and tiny egg shells slide down his dark brown curls, seeping through the strands. Eddie opens his eyes as I wipe what was left on my hands on his white t-shirt, smearing the dark yellow residue against the cotton fabric. 

“Smooth,” Eddie mumbles, nodding his head. 

My body shakes with silent laughter. Eddie reaches over to the pile of leftover flour on the counter, flicking it onto my face before I could turn around and dodge the attack. I gasp, eyes widening in disbelief, yet I am unable to contain my growing laughter. I flick flour on him as well challenging him. Eddie scoops a handful with both hands and drops it all on top my head. 

“Eddie!” I scream. 

I grab whatever I could find on the counter throwing it on him. Salt, sugar, flour, baking soda, brown sugar. Eddie wraps his arms around my body to hold me still, smearing what smelled like egg yolk all over my face. 

“Who’s the egg head now?” Eddie shouts. My scream turns into loud cackling. 

“It’s—It’s still—you!” I shout back through uncontrollable laughter. 

I try to escape from his hold but Eddie’s much too strong easily overpowering me. He spins me around laughing at my face. I must have looked as crazy as him. Flour and egg yolk with sprinkles of brown sugar on my face and in my hair. Eddie picks me up placing me on the counter, both our laughter dying down to hushed giggles. He brushes my hair out of my face gazing at me. I scrunch my nose, bumping mine softly against his before looking down. 

“That’s a new one. What does that mean?” 

“I don’t know,” I shrug looking back at him. “You tell me.” 

Eddie grins scrunching his nose, bumping it softly against mine. 

“It means,” he pauses, thinking. His eyes convey vulnerability that I only saw when he was with me. “I love you.” 

The butterflies in my stomach flutter around uncontrollably. It’s been one week since Eddie and I confessed our love for each other and we’ve said it to each other every day since. Each time either of us said it, which was plenty, my heart skipped a beat. 

“And this,” he rubs his nose against mine making me giggle and hold his face still. “Means, I love you too.” 

“In that case,” I scrunch my nose again, bumping it against his. 

Eddie rubs his nose against mine before closing the distance between us. His lips are soft and powdery. My heart feels like a jack hammer in my chest adrenaline coursing through my veins. Ever since the Snow Ball, I craved the feeling of his body close to mine in the most intimate of ways. I open my mouth deepening the kiss wrapping my arms around his neck pulling him closer.

 “Um?” 

I flinch startled by Erica’s voice, quickly grabbing onto Eddie’s shoulders to jump off the counter. The remaining flour, sugar, and baking soda fell onto the floor onto Eddie’s socks. 

“H-hey monster,” I stutter, putting my hands behind my back.

Eddie snickers from behind me and I elbow him softly in the gut. My face feels like it’s on fire and I hope Erica didn’t see anything. She was my little sister after all. Based on the bewildered expression on her face, she was more concerned about the mess in the kitchen than the fact Eddie and I were making out. 

“What are you guys doing?” 

Eddie and I look at each other grinning like Cheshire cats from ear to ear. 

“We’re baking,” I say, cheerfully. 

Erica arches her brow eying our appearance. “I can see that,” she said, observing the state of the kitchen. “You better clean up before Mom and Dad get back.”

“Yes, Erica,” I sigh. Sometimes it felt like she was the older sister. 

“Do you wanna help—” Eddie began. 

“Nope,” Erica cuts him off swiftly, taking a peanut butter blossom from the cooling rack on the adjacent counter. 

“Erica! Those are for Dustin and Miss Henderson!” 

“I’m just testing the product,” she explains, with her mouth full breathing heavily. The cookies were still hot. “Hmm, too much flour.” 

I gasp rushing beside her to inspect the blossoms. There couldn’t be too much flour. I know the recipe like the back of my hand and always put just the right amount of flour. 

“That’s impossible!” I exclaim snatching the piece of cookie in her hand to check the consistency.  

“She’s only joking, babe,” Eddie chuckles. I frown at Erica who was laughing hysterically at me. 

“That’s not funny Erica!” 

Erica takes the rest of the cookie out of my hand with a mischievous smile. I gently push her out of the kitchen so she doesn’t add to the mess. I turn to Eddie with a sigh looking at the mess we made in the kitchen. We really needed to clean it up before my parents got home. 

“I’m going to mix the rest of the cookie dough together. In the meantime, you can clear the counter and then we can tackle the rest together before my parents come home.” 

Eddie grabs the polaroid camera on his way to me. I catch a whiff of the raw eggs and flour on him and laugh scrunching my nose faking disgust. 

“You smell like egg!” 

Eddie tilts my chin up with his finger. “Well, who’s fault is that?”

I grin reaching up on the tips of my toes to close the distance between us. The kiss was intended to be chaste but the feeling of Eddie’s arm snaking around my waist pulling me against him won’t allow it. I try to pull away but that only makes him tighten his hold on me. I giggle against his lips holding his cheeks, our noses press together. A flash of light and the shutter snapping sounded in the background. Eddie pulls away taking the photo out of the camera. 

“This is amazing!” 

 “We look insane!”  

“We look like…” his eyes crinkle despite the softness in his smile. “…We’re in love.”  

I smile, even with tears running down my cheeks. I go up on the tips of my toes scrunching my nose bumping it against his. Eddie smiles rubbing his nose against mine, closing the distance between us. In love we were. 

[guccixcucci]

[guccixcucci]

Happy Black history month

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

I should’ve never stopped writing my mcu fanfic…

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

Honestly…let me check my notes and start writing 😭

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

I should’ve never stopped writing my mcu fanfic…

[mxxnbby]

1 0 0 0 🏴‍☠️

[only4carmilla]

I practically devoured the second season of Castlevania: Nocturne, such was my desire to see this continuation of Richter's story.

This year-plus wait was worth it, I was compensated with a season infinitely superior to the first in every aspect, but one of the points that definitely caught my attention the most was the development of Richter and Annette's relationship and the meaning of this relationship for both characters.

I love first of all how the approach of these two is totally different from that of Trevor and Sypha since these two were already slightly older than the couple in Nocturne, adults, basically. It's a bit of a cliché, but I love how Richter and Annette had almost or completely no previous romantic interaction given their difficult lives. I love seeing them blush at simple hand-holding or silly dialogues of the two laughing while hunting for food.

Loneliness and the loss of her mother separate Maria from Richter, but that same shared pain unites the young Belmont with Annette.

It is, however, interesting to also assimilate how these moments work the sense of one wanting to protect the other. It's lovely to see Annette protecting Richter from Alucard...

For me, the climax of this season finale, with Richter considering letting the world sink into darkness, just so he doesn't lose his beloved, only for his voice to bring her back from the spirit world and they can enjoy a moment of peace, is so... UUUUGHHHHH I LOVE THEM. I'M GOING TO EXPLODE.

[unearthlydust]

SEBASTIAN STAN GOLDEN GLOBES 2025

[buckgasms]

OUR PRINCE 🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

loved the Christmas fic so glad you’re writing again!! 😊

How I feel reading this message 🥹 idk if you’re the same person who has been reaching out, but thank you for believing in me.

[slaybey]

BEYONCÉ★BOWL