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clayderogatory · 29 days ago

Text

"Under the Red Light of the Crimson Moon."

a/n note: happy spooky season! since the poll received so much positive attention and many yes-es...i decided to write this! it will be posted on my ao3 after as well! also this playlist was very much my vibe im going for so if you like music while reading, this one is perfect! also, this is a VERY plot heavy and descriptive fic as well. warning, this fic does have dark content, if that is not for you, i do not suggest reading! This will also be a multipart series/multi chapter fic!

pairing: vampire!leon kennedy x gn!reader.

word count: 7.2k

tags: mystery, last name already established, graphic depiction of death, corpses, blood, language, heavy mentions of religion, romanticism, neck biting, alcohol use, mentions of other resident evil characters, no smut!

description: you are a doctor/researcher who gets sent to the eerie town of Hythe to investigate and help the strange deaths of the townsfolk. soon, you hear talk of the strange manor upon the hill to the north, and you decide to investigate.

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The town of Hythe was certainly one of much mystery, certainly even from the townsfolk there. The place was always described as eerie, where something was always off. Many people were ill quite frequently, and many were mysteriously killed by an unknown source. With many letters sent and through your curiosity being piqued, you had ultimately decided to see what was all the trouble. The train ride there had been rather pleasant, mainly through the blissful and tranquil countryside of Europe. It had been a wonderful sight to see, the thick green trees whose branches spread to the sun and it's radiant rays, the soft green grass across the plains that would hastily pass by, and the occasional cottages that you would see with families tending to their little farms—it was all rather charming. It truly made you wonder what could be so wrong?

When you arrived at the town of Hythe, that was when it all clicked in your mind. You stepped off the train to a town that was particularly and overly gloomy. The roads and houses were primarily made of stone and dark wood, and while lit oil lamps were filed along the slightly cracked streets—the air was thick and filled with the scent of death and decay. You scrunched your nose at the horrid smell that entered your nostrils, “It smells like shit..” A mumble escaped your lips as you tried your best to not breathe in more of the air around you. You walked through the dark town, the dark and grey clouds above hid away the warm and bright rays of the sun, to which it left the area seemingly forlorn. The townspeople were no better, anyone that was shuffling by were pale and thin. You assumed no one had seen the comforts of the sun in years, as you shifted glances with the townsfolk who just so happened to pass by you. They had seemed rather intrigued and quite curious by your presence in the town of Hythe—after all—no one ever willingly visited this place.

Luckily, you had the ability to stay at the nicest inn the town could offer. After all, with a well paying job such as yours, you could afford more than the average person could in this economy. You had carried your personal bags made of the richest full grain leathers—a generous gift from your father when you were entering your career as a doctor and a researcher. In an alleyway, you had heard the sobbings of a woman and two children, clad in all black, as they tragically wept over the corpse of what you assumed as her now dead husband. An elder priest accompanied them as well, he was saying his deepest prayers along with the family and praying that the man’s soul would be guided to heaven to rest in God’s safe embrace.

You could only watch with a sense of pity as you took notice of the body itself. The corpse seemed fresher, as if it happened the night before you arrived. The muscles were all stiff as the man’s face was contorted into a pale, and horrified expression. The man looked petrifyingly angular, as if someone had suctioned up much of the muscle mass in his body. The horrible odor filled through the air and unfortunately right into your nostrils as your face turned to one of pure disgust. No matter how long you had been in the medical field, you never had much of a tolerance for the dead. The one thing that stuck out to you the most was a large and uninviting bite mark along where the man’s jugular vein would be. The blood had been dried to a rustic red color and part of his cream colored—now stained in a dried crimson—shirt ripped apart to reach the man’s neck. Whoever would…or even could do such a thing like this?

You decided to investigate further as you carefully and slowly stepped closer, the smell was absolutely putrid, but you could manage to keep moving for the sake of your own curiosity and personal research. You had pulled out a small leatherback notebook and a writing utensil out of your coat pocket as you politely cleared your throat to grab their attention. “My deepest apologies during this time…but I could not help but notice this predicament before me…would it be alright to inquire about what may have happened?” You asked sweetly and kindly, after all, the family seemed to be heavily distraught from the traumatic sight before them. No one could blame them for feeling that way, of course.

“He..he left last night for a drink at the t..tavern…and he..he didn't come home! He was only thirty eight…” The woman exclaimed as her tears kept falling from her bloodshot and tired eyes. “And he was found in this state?” You replied and went to walk over to observe the body yourself. “Indeed…my dearest Simon..” She whispered as you kneeled down to have a better look. Judging by the state of decomposition, it seemed to be around one in the morning that he was killed, with how it was now an early eight in the morning. “It was most certainly a homicide…that is too odd of a puncture wound to inflict on oneself…” You spoke in a soft and hushed tone—almost to yourself even.

You lightly traced your hand just barely above the wound, not enough to touch—but you were certainly focused on it. The wound was unlike anything you have ever seen, it was almost too neat for it to have been any sort of weapon. There was no gunpowder or scorch marks on his cold and dead skin, so it couldn't possibly have been a pistol—or any gun for that matter. Hell, you didn't even know if they constructed bullets that thin. A knife certainly had too thick a blade, the wound would have instantly killed someone in the particular area as well. It would have left too jagged a cut as well, with the flesh being more torn into and creating a larger opening than what was presented before you. The man would have suffered more bloodloss in that particular case as well, and it wasn’t quite the case here—considering how there were only a few streams of leftover blood that had previously oozed and dripped down from his sternum and farther down his exposed chest. The marks that were left behind, equally parallel to one another, were so precise and thin…and yet, so intimidating to look at. “Excuse me…if I may ask who you are?” The priest questioned you as you were finally snapped out of one of just many of your investigative trances.

You had turned to the Priest once more before getting your thoughts together once more, “Dr. Coulston…although, you could just call me [Name].” You spoke calmly, regardless of there being a corpse right next to you. The priest’s light and stormy grey eyes lit up with the hint of familiarity, “Ah…you must be the doctor we have sent for.” They all had disregarded the decaying corpse for a moment to greet you. “I am this town’s main priest, Osmund Saddler.” He introduced himself as you gave a generous bow. “I truly thank you for your kindness, Father.” You formally addressed the man as you straightened your posture once more. “If I may ask…have there been many deaths much like this one?” You had opened your small notebook after asking and awaiting an answer to note down on the sheets of paper made from the finest wood pulp. “Indeed…it is the work of the Devil himself! I sense his presence around these corpses, may their souls be guided to Heaven…” Saddler had exclaimed and made a small motion of the cross with his hands. You hastily wrote everything you possibly could while he spoke, and also the details of the actual body itself.

Middle aged man, thirty eight years old. Name was Simon. Expression twisted into one of horror. Estimated time of death, 1:00-1:30 in the morning. Fatal wound of two precise and thin puncture wounds to the jugular vein. The body looks extremely thin, very unhealthily. The body was found in an alleyway just a few meters from the train station to the town of Hythe. Deaths like this are increasingly common, according to Father Osmund Saddler.

“May he rest in peace…” You clasped your hands together and uttered but a small prayer for all the families whose loved ones perished in such a grotesque way. Once you had rested your arms and opened your eyes once more, everything seemed to have calmed down more. “One more question…is there anyone here that could provide more information on these murders?” You inquired as what seemed to be some townsfolk hired by a funeral home started filing in to claim the body to prepare it to be embalmed and buried. “There is one you could try…he frequents the town square quite often. His name is Chris Redfield.” Saddler suggested as you wrote down his name and the place. “Thank you very much.” Your lips curved upwards into a smile as Saddler returned the gesture. “Of course, I hope to see you soon, Doctor.” It was after that where everyone had started to go their own separate ways, and you headed to the inn so you could book your room and leave your bags there. It wasn’t too much of a walk from your previous stance, and it was on the wealthier side of the town. You had walked along the stony paths of the streets, the low, but sturdy heels of your leather shoes making a soft clack with every step you took. You looked around the town to gather some needed insight for the town that you would be staying in for some time now.

There weren’t many shops on the outside, everything was indoors and secure. You assumed it was from the amount of murder along the streets of the town. Anyone that was even outside regardless looked awfully frightened. You could hear their hushed whispers to one another, their gossipings, all about the man’s corpse you have just seen with your own two eyes. News seemed to spread around quickly in this town, although they probably had nothing else better to do with their lives. Just waiting to see who will be struck dead in the thick and dreadful cold of the night! You quietly hummed to yourself at the thought, it would make quite the mystery novel—you held onto that idea in your mind for later usage.

After you had lived in your own psyche and wandered around for but a moment, you reached the inn. It was at the least a little more welcoming than the rest of the town. It also had some stunning views of the mountains much further away in the distant landscape of the area. Through the windows of the inn, you could see the warmer and more comforting candlelight coming from indoors. It provided at least a small sense of security that most of the town very clearly didn't provide with its natural gloom. You gently opened the door and with a grunt, you hauled your bags into the entrance. There was a small golden bell that gave a cheerful jingle as you walked in. As you did, the bell provided the innkeeper the sense that someone had entered. She stood behind a wooden desk with a damp rag in her hands to clean.

“Welcome! How may I assist you?” She gave a warm smile as she placed the rag in a small compartment underneath the now cleaned, polished, hardwood table she stood behind. She had her slightly reddish–brown hair up in a messy ponytail, some of her hair falling onto her pale face that adorned icy blue eyes. She wore her work uniform that was just plain and simple, a red dress with puffed sleeves and a white lace at the ends. There was an ivory white ribbon upon the bust of her dress. She wore a faded dusty pink apron as well, but one eye-catching detail you had noticed was a sterling silver necklace she wore with the charm being a silver feather with a deep blue sapphire near the tip of the quill. You walked up to the counter and placed your bags down next to you with a small sigh escaping your lips. “I will need a room to stay in…for..quite a while. I was asked to come here in regards to the investigation of the murders.” You replied and put your hand upon the freshly polished wooden countertop. “Ah! Everyone in town has been talking about you…thank you for helping us, really.” She gave a pleasant smile before turning around to get a small room key for you. “Of course…and if it is no trouble..would you happen to know anything about these murders that have been rampant?” You had pulled your small leatherback notebook and writing utensil out once more in the hopes that she would know something.

“Well…my older brother has been looking into it a bit. He has told me it always happens in the complete dead of night. Every victim perishes the exact same…may God have mercy on their souls..” A soft sigh escaped her lips as you wrote everything she said down onto the parchment paper of your notebook. “And who is your brother?” You looked up for a brief moment, your eyes laced with that desire to know more. “Chris…Chris Redfield. I’m his sister, Claire.” She introduced herself and placed a key on the desk. Your eyes glimmered at your recognition of the name she spoke of. “I have indeed heard of him…do you know wherever he may be currently?” You wrote down her name next to his, and wrote a little margin note saying they were siblings. “Hm…I couldn’t say as of right now..but he has told me he was going to investigate the strange manor upon the hill to the north of town at some point.” Claire responded to your inquiry and leaned forwards against the countertop. It was a little improper, but you paid it no mind as you wrote down that important detail as well. “Manor? What is strange about it? Why is your brother going to investigate it?” You rapidly questioned, one after the other. Claire had to take a small pause to be able to properly answer your questions.

“Well…the manor has been there for..who knows how long? This village has been around for centuries…that manor along with it. It’s very rare to spot someone ever going inside or out…but one time..I did see a young man enter back inside. I couldn’t make out much of what he looked like…but he had a sort of dirty blonde hair from what I can remember. Regardless...my brother is a constable. He’s been on this investigation as well…he was the one that sent the letter to you.” Claire explained with a hand resting upon her soft, rosy cheek. You had checked your notes thus far.

Chris Redfield and Claire Redfield—siblings. Chris is a constable. Manor on the hill to the north, no one really comes in or out often. Young man with dirty blonde hair spotted once while going inside.

“I see…I thank you kindly.” You slowly nodded your head at Claire as she gave you the key to your room. “Of course! Name please?” She got out her own sheet of parchment paper to note down that the room would be occupied. “Dr. [Name] Coulston.” You replied as Claire nodded to herself as clarification and wrote down everything she needed. “Alright! We will charge you at the end of your stay.” She smiled and put the paper and fountain pen to the side. “And the room is the second door on the right!” She quickly added as you started to carry all of your possessions once more.

You had hauled your bags and items to the door, second from the right—you had remembered, and you opened the wooden door with the small key Claire had given you. The inside of the room was simple, but it was quite comfortable. There was a window to your left that gave you the same stunning views from when you first saw the building. The mountains that surrounded the town truly were a sight to behold, along with the thick forests at the feet of every mountain. Inside of the room was a queen sized bed to your right hand side, a rich mahogany nightstand next to it as well. Atop of it was a silver tray with a fresh box of matches to the side and a few candles with its silver candle holder. Next to the nightstand was a door that led to a small and private bathroom, as well as there being a few bookshelves filled with all kinds of books, a mahogany desk, a few nice portraits hanging around, a large vanity mirror hanging from the wall, and a fireplace that was currently unlit. You had placed your bags down at the foot of the bed and hung your coat on a coat hanger that you just noticed was beside the door. You then just took a moment to just lay down. So much had happened within the past one to two hours that you felt nearly exhausted. You decided that a nice nap would surely do you justice as you got comfortable and your eyes naturally closed on their own to drift into a comfortable slumber.

When you had finally awoken, it was night already. You didn’t even know you could potentially sleep that long—but the train ride had been quite long and you dealt with the whole mystery of the corpses and finding people. It all made your head spin from the stress, but you had a responsibility to solve it all. You slowly arose from the bed with a groan and a stretch, you could feel and hear the snapping of your bones as you felt the ability to move around without a soreness once more. You had ultimately decided to do some more investigation in the night, for you may have had the chance to catch the culprit whilst in the act! You had taken your coat from where you had previously hung it earlier and you slipped it back on. Then it was proceeded by fixing your hair to look a little more presentable than when you had woken up, and from one of your bags—you had pulled out a dagger of your own. If there was a chance that someone would try to go after you, you wanted to be ready at any given moment—and certainly considering the way of how these innocent people were being murdered, you knew you had to be wary and prepared for anything that could happen.

You picked up your satchel and filled it with some essentials. A first aid kit, small snacks for the road,and some stored money. There was always one person who would hide what he knew behind some sort of paywall—or if you needed something for dinner. Once you had personally felt ready, you slipped your shoes back on and left your cozy inn room for the unsuspecting mystery of the town of Hythe. When you had slipped out, as if the town already wasn’t overtly depressing, at night? It felt terrifying. You quietly wandered the streets on your own, the only sources of light coming from the scarce few of the oil lightposts on the sides of the street. The only thing you could hear were the clacks of your heels with each step on the cobblestone streets. You tried to keep your composure, the dread now finally kicking in as you could feel your body tremble from paranoia. You checked a few alleyways, and only finding complete darkness enveloping the space. You had turned your head towards the opposite way of the last alley you looked into, before you found a cold hand grabbing you by the waist and dragging you into that shadowy crevice of the alleyway. A scream escaped your mouth as your body was suddenly pressed up against another, with a complete absence of any warmth at all.

“A new face, hm?” You noticed it was a man’s voice, and from what you could gather, he had a seemingly Spanish accent. “It’s been forever since someone new came around..” He whispered as you felt his hot breath right where your jugular vein would be. You struggled in his grasp with quiet grunts, “Let…go of..me!” You cried out as you stomped on his foot with all your might and escaped from his hold as he howled in pain. “Mierda…” He cursed as he tried lunging for you again, to which you narrowly escaped with a yelp. “Get away from me!” You yelled and managed to get steady on your feet once more, dagger in hand. “Feisty, eh? So typical of humans..” He muttered as he ran up to you and managed to trap you once again, you struggled as he pinned you up against the wall and opened his mouth to seemingly bite you. His canine teeth were much larger than the normal person’s, and his eyes glowed red in the darkness that enveloped your bodies. You couldn’t make out any other defining features as your heart felt it would jump right out of your chest from how fast it was beating. Thump, thump, thump—it was all you heard as his teeth advanced closer, and you just thought it would be the end. You braced for an impact that never came, for when he was just about to dig his teeth into your neck, you heard the sound of a bullet being fired directly into his shoulder. He cried out in pain as he let go and tightly gripped onto the side of his shoulder where a crimson red blood was flowing down his arm. You looked over and saw a quite large and burly man from outside the alleyway holding up a now recently fired rifle. “Get away from them!” He yelled as the man who attacked you frowned with displeasure and dissipeared into the night once more.

You panted for your breath as the adrenaline from being in a near death experience, your mind felt hazy and your senses amplified tenfold. You had no idea what had just happened, and when you had just got back to your senses, you saw the man who saved you standing in front of you. “Are you alright? You aren’t injured, are you?” He asked and offered a hand for you. “No…I-I’m alright..” You stammered quietly as you were slowly calming down from the events that just transpired. “I truly thank you for saving me…I thought I would have died there for sure..” You whispered as the man in front of you nodded in response. “These have been happening all over town…thank God I found you before you were injured.” He gave a hearty smile that you couldn’t help smiling back from his friendly demeanor. “Right…what’s your name?” You asked as you both started walking out of the alleyway and back onto the cobblestone street. “Chris…Chris Redfield.” He stated as your eyes widened, you were lucky enough to find everyone related to one another. “Oh! Yes..yes I was going to look for you! I needed your help on investigating…all of this..although it did just happen..” You rambled a bit before continuing, “I met your sister, Claire..at the inn. And earlier this morning Father Saddler mentioned you after I first came across a corpse who suffered a similar fate as to everyone else.” You finished talking as the both of you walked along the street together. “I see…thank you for taking the time to investigate this issue as well. It’s been happening for…years now at this rate.” Chris looked to you as he replied. “I’ve come to the conclusion that…we may be dealing with a larger threat than I may have thought.”

“And what may it be?” You asked and looked to Chris for his answer. He seemed slightly uneasy at the idea of it, but it came out in a hushed tone of his voice, “Vampirism.” You were familiar with the concept, there were always those extremely paranoid of the sort. Garlic, stakes to the heart—you had heard it all, for it actually to truly exist? The thought was utterly terrifying, especially considering the fact that you had just been potentially attacked by one just but a few moments ago. “V-vampirism? Surely you jest…” You stammered, your voice so utterly uneasy from the idea. Chris shook his head in response as the two of you kept walking down the street, and you truly felt your throat constrict in a bout of nervousness and fear. “As much as I wish I was wrong…considering the events we have just witnessed..and the events that have been occurring..I fear it may be the only answer.” He spoke quietly as a somber mood fell over the two of you like a blanket draped over a bed. “Then what are we to do? They will keep harming innocent people…” You whispered as your brain tried to wrack itself for any sort of clue or answer, obviously they had to find some sort of compromise—but it wasn’t like you exactly knew the general nature of vampires.

“Do you think they live in the manor on the hill?” You inquired as the two of you continued to stroll with one another, Chris pursed his lips and put a hand to his chin. “It’s probable…” He replied as a thought seemed to appear in your head. He could tell by the way your expression changed, “No, you seriously cannot be thinking about going there!” His voice was raised a little as you looked back up to meet his eyes. “I could be able to try to talk with them! Maybe we could reach a compromise…” You suggested the idea as it made Chris a little distressed at the idea. “Vampires are dangerous, Doctor. We don’t know what to expect from them…” He replied and put a hand to yours with concern, you could only sigh in response as you looked away to your right before making eye contact once more. “Chris, if we treat them with hostility, they would only show it back. Let me try to make things right..because I do want to help this town..innocent people shouldn’t have to die.”

“If you say so…but you better stay safe..but know if they try anything, I’ll have to step in.” You nodded at his conditions, “I agree to your terms then.” You both carefully walked back to the inn, but for a moment as you walked, you exchanged glances with another man that had walked by. You noticed a brief red glow from his eyes and what looked to be blonde hair. His clothing was particularly formal, although it was hard to make out due to the dark colors of it blending in with the shadows of the night, but you immediately whipped your head back to looking in front of you with a small gasp escaping your lips. Chris looked at you concerningly for a brief moment as he decided to say nothing as the two of you made it back to the inn once again. Claire was still behind the desk as it seemed she was tidying up the place, at the jingle of the door opening, she looked up and noticed the two of them walking in. “Chris! [Name]! What are you two doing out so late in the night?” She walked out from behind the desk, took off her apron, and placed on the front desk before she made her way over to the both of you. “I had gone out to investigate the pressing issue at hand—” You had started before Chris had finished your sentence, “Along the way, they were attacked by one of the perpetrators. A vampire.”

Claire’s icy blue eyes went wide with the statements as she almost couldn’t figure out what to say. “A..a vampire? Truly?” She stammered as you and Chris nodded your heads in sync. “Chris saved me from one…and then..as we were walking back..I swore I saw another.” Your voice gradually decrescendoed as you spoke, for it grew quieter with every word that came from your lips. “Another?” Claire asked with shock as you managed a solemn nod. “Indeed…he had this blondish hair and his eyes were tinted as this..this crimson red. I could swear they glowed..” You recalled from only a few moments prior to now. “Well…let us all be eternally grateful that everyone is unharmed..it is late in the night, dear. You should head to bed and get some rest..” Claire put a gentle hand on your shoulder with a comforting look. “Indeed. We could rendezvous in the morning with some breakfast and tea to discuss what we shall do moving forwards.” Chris agreed as everyone decided to part ways for the night and wait for morning to speak on such issues. Of course, you weren’t as tired as the other two as you recorded your experiences down into your notebook so that it wouldn’t potentially be lost in your vast memory.

In an alleyway of Hythe, not particularly far from the inn, a vampire attacked at around ten-o-clock at night. Noticeable characteristics were crimson red eyes, large fangs at the canine teeth and slightly smaller fangs where they would meet at the premolars. The vampire that attacked had a smooth Spanish accent, more akin to that of Spain and not of South America origin. The second vampire I had seen while walking was not hostile towards me or Chris Redfield, but he had the same crimson red eyes but his hair distinctly blonde and he had dressed like a gentleman.

You had placed your fountain pen back down after closing it shut after writing. There was a lot to report, but it would provide useful later on. Afterwards, you had taken a relaxing warm bath to calm your nerves and to relax you enough to be able to sleep through the night. You dressed into your nightclothes before slipping into bed and drawing the covers over your body as you lulled into a gentle and peaceful slumber once again.

When you had awoken at around eight in the morning the next day, the outside was still just as gloomy as the day before. Even if it had all felt like an odd dream, you vividly remembered everything that had happened prior. The corpse in the alleyway, the attack, excetera. You had risen out of bed to dress yourself once more as you slipped on your coat lastly. You were going to meet Claire and Chris out for breakfast in the inn, since there was a small dining hall that was in the inn as well. You had stepped out of your room after getting ready for the day as you had now just recently met up with the siblings once more, the fresh smell of warm tea and pastries filling into your nostrils and somehow calming any nerves you may have had. “Good morning, you two.” You had spoken politely as you sat down across from them. “Good morning! How did you sleep?” Claire asked as she took a bite into a small cream puff she had made that morning. “I slept well enough…although..everything from last night is still on my mind.” You replied as Claire poured you a cup of warm chamomile tea. “Mine as well…at least we know who is behind all of this..the only question is how are we going to prevent it from happening again?” Chris responded as he took a quick sip of tea after speaking. “Well…I did say I would try to talk with them..” You responded as they both looked to you as if you were crazy. “Talk with them?! Doctor..I am not sure that is the best idea..especially after one already attacked you!” Claire exclaimed before Chris put a hand up to signal to calm down. “It’s the best we can do…it’s hard enough to try and kill them as it is.” He responded as his sister huffed.

“Oh alright…just..stay safe, [Name].” Claire looked at you with a hint of worry in her expression, but there wasn’t much else you could do. You were willing to make the sacrifice to help the others in need here in the village, and who knows? Maybe you would learn more in the process, and as a reasearcher, you always loved to accumilate more and more knowledge about the world around you. “I was planning to head over to the manor after breakfast…all I know about vampires are what people say about them. Although you can never truly believe everything you hear…” You had taken another sip of your tea and a bite of a warm cinnamon roll. “I do not believe they are regarded as very kind..but I am not sure. We only have the encounter from the other night to go off of.” Chris strirred his tea and drank the rest of it before setting the cup down. “The one who attacked me last night certainly wasn’t very nice…” You mumbled before finishing your breakfast and standing back up afterwards. “Thank you very much for the meal…it was truly delicious, Claire.” You gave a soft smile in her direction and dusted off your coat with. “Of course..please stay safe…vampires may be unpredictable..although it really is all a mystery.” She whispered and went to clean some plates up. “Of course..thank you both for everything..” Your lips curved into a smile again as you gave your final goodbyes before going back to your room, grabbing your satchel yet again, and leaving to go to the manor. You walked along the roads of the town again, you even peered into many of the alleyways to find if there were any corpses in them, but to your surprise, there weren’t any at all.

You had asked around to see if anyone knew where to find the manor, and they all gave a similar answer of following the main road north until you see the hill. So you had listened to their advice, and with every step—every clack of your heel on the cobblestone tiles only heightening your anxiety as you reached the edge of the town, and you spotted the manor upon the hill. There was a bit of a misty fog around as you walked up the path to the manor itself, the path was of dirt as you walked along it warily. There were many trees along the path that had obscured some of your view, but you ultimately pressed ahead. The one thing that you did notice the closer you got to the entrance, was the abundance of multiple types of red flowers in the front. Although the main ones you could make out were some beautiful near maroon roses and an assortment of brightly colored red poppies. It was fitting now that you knew of their true identities, but to say that they weren’t beautiful would be a lie.

You had climbed up the steps to the grand front door of the manor, it was a little intimidating as you gently took one of the door handles and used it to knock on the door precisely three times. There was only silence as you waited for a response, nothing thus far—so you knocked again. Three times, but with a bit more power to them. Your first justification was if they didn’t hear your previous knocks, your second justification was if the myth of vampires being nocturnal was really true, and your third justification was that perhaps no one was home. “Hello? Is anyone home?” You called out quite loudly as you couldn’t even peer in through a nearby window. All of them were covered by maroon curtain drapes from the inside, so there was no luck there. You had sighed and thought to just wait, and as you turned on your heel to leave, you heard the creak of the door behind you opening which made you flinch slightly and hastily turn around. When you had done so, you had locked eyes with the same man who walked past you yesterday night. You could see him a lot more clearly, he had those same red eyes—albiet not glowing anymore, a dirty blond hair that was short in the back but a little long in the front, considerably pale skinned with faint red blemishes, and a rather muscular look to him that was shrowded by his previous clothes. Of course now he was a bit less formal, with only a frilled off white shirt that had showed part of his chest, and high waisted black pants with some gold detailing down the sides.

“...may I help you?” He finally spoke as his eyes nearly pierced your very soul with how intimidating they were. You had nervously chuckled and cleared your throat as you tried to keep your ground and your mind level headed. "Good morning, sir...if I could just have a moment of your time—" You had started before he cut you off, "I have no time for such insignificant nonsense." You blinked a little awkwardly as he tried closing the door before you sprung forwards. "Wait! Wait...please, I truly mean no harm..I just wished..to ask a few questions is all." He stared at you in thought before wordlessly opening the door further for you. You quietly thanked him as you walked into the manor and looked around.

There were candles everywhere, and all of them were lit to make up for the lack of natural lighting from the outdoors. Blacks, reds, and golds were certainly an abundance as the color palate of choice for decoration. Everything looked a little outdated than what was considered normal at the time, and some things looked seemingly medieval, which had further intrigued you. Paintings filled the rooms upon the walls and many of them were a bit eerie to say the least. The blonde haired man led you to the drawing room where he sat down on a couch and motioned for you to sit on the one across from him, which you did so with grace.

"Thank you for the invitation, sir. There were just a few questions I would like to ask of you or anyone else that lives in this home. Could I have a name?" You pulled out your notebook and writing utensil once again and flipped to an open page. "...Leon. Leon Kennedy." He replied as you both firmly shook hands, his grip being a little tighter than yours. "And you will not find the others here at this hour," He simply stated and crossed his arms. "They are on...business."

"...business?"

"Business."

You blinked a few times and noted that down as you nodded your head slowly. "Right...and..what type of business...might I ask..?" Your words were slowly paced, you couldn't help but not believe what he was saying to an extent. "It is information I cannot tell you, my sincerest condolences." You had written that down too. "Alright...well, if I may switch our topic a little..do you know about the recent murders here in Hythe?" You curiously inquired with your eyes glinting with that desire of knowledge. To hear the perspective of someone more on the outskirts of town and who may have been one in on them in the first place certainly intrigued you. "Well...yes, I have. They have caused a bit of commotion here." Leon nodded. "Indeed they have...would you happen to know anything on why they are happening?"

Leon visibly went stiff as he tried to think of something to say to that question. "Ah..well...I do know..some..." He meticulously chose his words carefully as you nodded. "Do tell then, I am all ears."

"It would be considered blasphemous...I doubt you would believe me." Leon murmured as his red eyes looked down a little sullenly. "I can assure you..I will hear out anything you are willing to say." You gave a sweet and affirming smile as he nodded and thought out what he desired to say. "Well...would you believe me if I said we weren't quite..human?" Leon whispered just loud enough for you to hear him. "I could get behind the idea...do continue." You replied calmly as he nodded. "Well...we are..vampires. Everyone in this manor. We don't mean to intentionally kill..it is the only way we can feed..and we have so little that even just a drop of blood causes us to..spiral." He confessed honestly as you wrote it all down without even looking at the paper.

"So I see..my theory was correct then..how did you all arrive here then?" You asked as Leon crossed his legs. "Well...I suppose we have been here longer. This manor is..quite old." He blinked a few times and scratched his chin. Many of his answers were a bit short lived, you had noticed. At least you were getting them, so you couldn't complain too much. "Intriguing..." You whispered and nodded. "Could I have the names of the others who do reside here?" His lips curved into a prominent frown as he stared at you. "Why is that necessary? Are you from the Church?" He got a little defensive as you straightened your back out of nervousness. "No! Not at all...I am just a researcher and a doctor. I came here of my own volition."

"How am I to know that you are not a liar?" Leon stood up and towered over you, his muscular frame intimidating you further. "You will have to trust my word..please. I truly mean no harm!" You stood up afterwards to try and get on an even playing field. He scoffed and looked to you with an unconvincing expression. "Well, I know one thing. Humans are liars, and how could I let one go after knowing quite the secret?" You gulped a little and backed up when he walked near you. "I.." You couldn't get a statement out as your arm was then grabbed by him at some supernatural speed.

"It seems we will have some new company here for quite some time." He smirked a little as he could practically hear your heart pounding and the blood rushing through your veins as you stood there in fear.

Unfortunately for you, your already precarious situation had just gotten a whole lot worse.

━━━━━━━━━━━━⊱⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⊰━━━━━━━━━━━━

thank you all for reading!! there will be more parts after this and this is (again) posted on my ao3 if you want to leave a kudo/comment! thank you for reading! :)

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van-yangyin · 27 days ago

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Simblreen 2024

I reblogged weeks ago but I say it officially in this post. This year I'm participing also in Simblreen event, although although this time I'm trying to organize myself better than last year.

You can know what's Simblreen here on their FAQ by @simblreenofficial

When?

Weekend 1: October 18th-20th Weekend 2: October 25th-27th

For which game will I be sharing treats? Custom Content for The Sims 4.

How many treats? I'm certainly not sure yet (I know, even with all the time I've had, I'm still on deep water. But having fun 😁), but at least one a week for sure! (at least two treats you will have! Three with variations if you don't mind trigger warnings) And maybe some hunt game! (but without trigger warnings)

Can you expect any trigger warnings? Yes, at the moment it's 100% sure that you will be able to find a head replacement and eyes. But whether it's scary or not, that's not for me to decide, it depends of each one. From my point of view it's not scary but funny, though. Any other trigger warning more I will say so in the official porchlights publications

What will my treats be? Mainly occults and spooky CC as usual for me tho. 😛 And maybe some conversion of another game (following the same themes). 👁️

How can you get my treats? During the days described above, I will turn on my porch lights and you will have to send me a message or ask (anon off, because otherwise I won't be able to send you a answer back with your treats), and I will send you a link where you can get your goodies! 🍭🍬 The treats will be sent in chronological order, and if you don't like any written trigger warnings you must specify it in the message/ask you send me. To all of you who participate if I get the message/ask you will receive an answer, so you won't have to worry about.

What kind of content can you expect from CC? You can expect to find CAS items, which for the event will only be avaliable for both frames from teen to elder age and maybe CC for some pets, once the event is over some of them will also be available for the other ages or even pets, and I will publish it for everyone. You can also expect some decoration for Buy Mode.

What’s the schedule? Mainly at afternoon and early night, UTC +02:00 time! (1st weekend and 25th-26th of 2nd weekend) and UTC+01:00 time! (Sunday 27th) As for if I do any hunt game on my Tumblr blog it can occur any day before November 1st. (For a whole day or several, which I'll post here on my Tumblr.)

When will everything be realease? I'm a pretty slow and perfectionist person, so I will try to go as fast as possible with public publications, the only thing I can say is that everything I'm going to do for this event will be available for everyone. On the bright side though, after 2nd weekend event I have time to get everything ready to launch for 30th and 31st! (tho no promises) So if you're shy and can't participate in the event you will still have all my treats. 🫶

I hope you all enjoy Simblreen event with me this year too! 💓 This is my second year participating! Happy Spooky Season guys! 💛🍀

(If you have any doubts or questions, don't hesitate to write me here belowon asks or on any of my social networks!)

#simblreen #simblreen participant #simblreen 2024

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potteresque-ire · 11 days ago

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youtube

Happy Halloween! 👻 (Happy Birthday, Wei Wuxian!)

For this spooky evening, I'd like to present this spooky song named 《辜》 (Guilt, pronounced gu), one of the theme songs from Season 2 of 天官賜福 TGCF's audio drama. (Lyrics and some thoughts under the cut!)

Below is my attempt to translate the beautifully written (and eerie) lyrics, although I can't say I'm satisfied with my efforts this time. It bears strong roots in the Taoist (religious) tradition, which I'm not part of. The very last paragraph (the one that mentions a pardon) is from a prayer known as 往生咒 (The Rebirth Mantra; Buddhists have their own version), which believers chant to help lost spirits find their way to the next life. Hence, the change in tone. I hope though, that as music is universal, that even with the language barrier this song can successfully spook some of you. Oh, by the way, the vocal in the middle of the song (starting 2:27) is from an opera style known as 華陰老腔 (pronounced Huayin Laoquiang), which has been designated as an Intangible cultural heritage by UNESCO, and the performer 張喜民 Zhang Ximin is the heir of the style (kudos to the production team of the audio drama for inviting him!). Even though the origin of the style is far from where I've grown up, the lines from that paragraph: 善有善報，惡有惡報不是不報，時辰未到 Good is retributed by good. Evil is retributed by evil. It’s not a lack of retribution. It’s the time of retribution has not yet come. is something I can recite, in my own dialect (Cantonese), since I was little. The way this song conveys this well-known message ~ one that I admit I don't / can't always believe in ~ is very powerful to me. It's one of the reasons why I've repeatedly spooked myself with this song this month! (And so, I'm also using this post to send a message to Voldie: yes, I remember what you did 43 years ago on this night. The time of retribution would come for you.) (No, I haven't forgotten my "birth fandom" (Harry Potter), which I do plan to revisit one day. 😊) Anyway, onto the lyrics!

《辜》 (Guilt) [0:14] 幽幽夜沉沉語悄悄 The night is dark and heavy, its words quiet. 聽何人行踽踽登初宵 Listen ~ Who’s walking in solitude, ascending upon this evening? 遊魂野客喧囂高門重府燭搖 Boisterous are the wandering souls, the unbridled guests. Flickering are the candles in the mansions, the palaces. 問旦福夕禍世間知多少 Asking about the ever-changing fortunes and calamities, how much and how little this world knows about them.

[0:43] 忽而風起似誰笑良辰吉時到 The wind suddenly rises, as if someone laughs. The propitious hour has come. 幾家烹調歡宴肉骨餵邪妖不足飽 Some homes have cooked a feast, meat and bones to feed the wicked but can’t satiate. 他神色木然既悲又喜耳畔道 Wooden is his expression, both sad and happy, and by each ear, he utters words. 回頭卻是惡言生寒入髓竅 But when heads turn, the evil in the words grows into a chill and burrows into the marrow.

[1:34] 迷迷霧漫漫哭渺渺 The mist dazes and lingers, its tears vague. 提昏燈過長街天不曉 Uplift ~ dim lanterns crossing the long streets, the sky that fails to dawn. 花腔滾板未消惡鬼怨倀又告 Dissipating still are the coloraturas and percussions. Accusing once more are the wicked ghosts, resentful, 問天公愚聵善惡何以報 Asking the gods, stupid and deaf, the retributions for the good and the evil.

[2:00] 社鼓陣陣金鐃厲良辰吉時到 The temple drums beat. The golden cymbals clang. The propitious hour has come. 造化如命數歡恨誰藉著不相饒 Life’s blessings are like the accounts of destiny, transactions of joys and hatred are not forgiven. 他神色木然似悟非悟舉斧刀 Wooden is his expression, both knowing and ignorant, and his hatchet rises. 回頭卻是青衣扶搖登仙道 But when heads turn, rising is the commoner’s attire, ascending to the enlightened path.

[2:27 Vocal] 休將奸狡昧神祗，禍福如同逐影隨 Don’t use guile to deceive the gods, calamity and fortune follow like shadows. 善有善報，惡有惡報 Good is retributed by good. Evil is retributed by evil. 不是不報，時辰未到 It’s not a lack of retribution. It’s the time of retribution has not yet come.

[2:52 Chant] 斷足折顱摧魄裂魂 Feet broken, skull snapped, Spirit broken, soul cracked, 手起刀落血飛肉滾 Hands lifted, knives dropped, Blood spilled, flesh rolled, 剜心剔骨解我悲忿 Heart hollowed, bones carved All to solve my sorrows and fury. 易除厄罰難償苦恨 Easy it is to root out adversaries. Hard it is to compensate the bitter loathing. 斷足折顱摧魄裂魂 Feet broken, skull snapped, Spirit broken, soul cracked, 有命還命以待三更 A life for a life, to wait for midnight 諸罪來受戮見鬼神 When crimes come for a slaughter, to greet their demons and gods.

[3:23 From 往生咒 The Rebirth Mantra] 有頭者超，無頭者升鬼魅一切，四生沾恩太上敕令��超汝孤魂脫離苦海，轉世往生 Those who’ve kept their heads, transcend. Those who haven't, rise. All apparitions are marked with the blessings from life, The pardon from The Supreme transcends your wandering souls. To leave this bitter sea, to reincarnate and reborn.

#pie metas

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moonchildstyles · 1 year ago

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announcement/sneak peek

happy spooky season everyone!!

ive never had the time to do something like this, but ive finally timed it all right and I'll be posting a halloween/spooky centered fic for this season! and, for the first time ever, I'm trying out a mini-series kind of format! if its something ppl like and interact with ill def consider doing this more!

anywayyyyyyyy, starting next friday, the 13th, on patreon I will begin posting my new mini-series called Oleander for early access! two weeks later on friday, the 27th, tumblr will begin the story!

it's a three part mini series with darker themes and ideas than ive ever worked with before! i don't usually spoil too much of the stories but ! this is another vamp h story!! very different from my previous vamp h though!!!

this will be my last big piece of writing for the year before I go on my break, and I'm so excited for you guys to get to read it and get to know this new story!

under the cut, I have a sneak peek attached! I also have a Pinterest board you can look at if you want to get a feel for the story!

—————

She hadn't misremembered, it appeared. His eyes really were almost black, just barely tinted a forest green—if the forest in question was being spotted in the pitch of night, only a sliver of the moon and stars above allowing any clarification.

Her heart jumped in her throat, running faster than it had any reason to when their eyes met. She forced herself to swallow it down.

"Sorry, sir," she muttered, unable to pull her gaze away from his even if she instinctively wanted to look anywhere else. "Did you find all you were looking for?"

"I did, yes." His voice was a lulling rumble, rounded and heady as if the goal was to lure her nearer. If not for the table separating them, she would have fallen for it.

Offering a quiet smile, she gave him a polite nod.

No other words were exchange, as per usual for his visits. The Count wasn't much for conversation and idle chatter like the rest of the village. Instead, she could feel him watching her as she counted up his herbs and the price of each bundle.

He was buying the same ones he always did: winter savory (he switched to chamomile when out of season), tobacco, and lavender.

The buds together created a confusing scent, adding to the mishmash of what the apothecary already was. She couldn't imagine that he would put these three together in any space of that castle, the mixture too aggressive.

Though she tired her best to concentrate on only the herbs, (Y/N) was too aware of the static of his presence. She wondered what he thought when he came down to the village, what he thought when he interacted with people like her. He was always so stoic. He never gave anything away, though that didn't stop the village gossip from running wild about him.

Swallowing around her dry throat, heartbeat bubbling against her ribs, she matched his gaze. The pricing for his bounty came out on buzzing lips, "Sixteen shillings please, sir."

He didn't bat an eyelash at the price despite it being the biggest single purchase her father's apothecary would see until the next time he ventured down. Instead, he looked at her with his dark eyes and a tic in his jaw. He was unbearably handsome, made of cut edges and smooth planes, but he always looked at her as if he were angry and working to bury it down. She could never figure out why or what exactly made his nostrils flare or his jaw tight when he spoke to her, but she hoped she wasn't the only one he reacted to like this.

His hands moved quickly, pulling out a small pouch of tinkling coins before he plucked out the exact amount for her. For a moment, she could see bank notes tucked inside the pouch as well. While she wasn't surprised that someone like him would have that kind of wealth, she had never seen it before with her own eyes.

Passing off the change to her, his pale fingers grazed her open palm. Goosebumps immediately raised across her skin, his touch feeling as if he had been standing in the dawn's dew for hours, allowing the chill to cling to his skin and leach away all hope for warmth. The graze was quick, barely a heartbeat long, but she swore she could feel the lingering touch for moments after. Maybe he really did have a hard time navigating the village when the fog was this thick, having traveled in winding route and wrong turns for so long he still hadn't been able to heat up even after spending time in the shop.

Flicking her gaze up to his on instinct, she saw he was looking at swatches of skin exposed from her dress, eyeing the goosebumps he had plucked up on accident.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, nothing more than a reminder to herself to keep professional and not to gawk at the man. She placed the change in the small cup underneath the collection counter before reaching for his herbs of choice. A length of twine was used to tie up the bundle, ensuring he didn't lose anything on his way back home.

"Thank you," he muttered once she passed them back, their skin no longer grain this time.

"Have a pleasant journey back home," she chirped, her voice decidedly pleasant against the bubbling she was feeling inside, "Stay warm."

The Count didn't give any kind of reaction to her before he was leaving the shop in a flourish. Taking advantage of the window at her disposal, she watched as he ventured out into the fog. The mist mingled around him, making him appear as if he were a ghost, one with the Earth-bound clouds. She was only vague aware of the way her body heat ticked up some now that he had left.

Though she could hear the sound of footsteps descending the stairs that led up to their home a floor above, (Y/N)'s head was outside the shop and away from her father. She didn't turn even when she could tell he had made it to the landing. He was used to it by now, she knew. Her head was always miles away as far as he was concerned—thinking too big for the village and that was only going to hurt her in the long run.

The air around her shifted, telling her that her father was just behind her, likely watching to see what had caught her attention this time.

"Is that Harry?" he grumbled, spitting out the name while dismissing the faux-title since they were alone.

Her father didn't much like the Count—Harry, as he bitterly spat out. (Y/N) was never sure what had set off her father's distaste for the man, just knowing that he thought him to be something of a boogeyman against the village. He didn't even go to church, her father regularly complained. What kind of man was he if he couldn't even bother to trudge down from his palace to spend some time with God, even if it was in the presence of commoners?

(Y/N) never really minded. Though she'd never tell her father, church was boring. She couldn't blame Harry—the Count, whatever she was supposed to call him—for skipping out. Especially with the peeks a the castle she could garner if she trekked through the woods far enough. She wouldn't want to leave that place for anything.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) answered with a soft, "Yes." Her eyes were still locked on the form of him she could barely make out through the mist.

A grunt of disapproval left her father's lips. She didn't have to look at him to know that he had his arms crossed over his chest. "Are you okay?"

It was when he settled a hand on her shoulder that she snapped out of her staring.

"Yes, I'm well," she answered as placidly as possible when she turned to face him. She didn't want to show just how affected she was by the Count. Her father would do more than just grunt and disapprove if he knew just how drawn to the man as she was.

He peered through the window, his eyes surely finding the one dark figure filtering through the fog. His brows slanted into harsh slashes over his eyes. "I want you to come and find me when he comes in from now on. I don't want him talking with you, anymore."

Her fingertips buzzed at the new instructions, matching the kickstart to her heartbeats. As much as she heard her father's concerns, and had listened in to all the of the stories and webs spun about this man, those did little to deter her interest in Harry or quell the bubbling in her chest every time she saw him step inside the apothecary.

"I can handle him, father," she countered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible while attempting to hold her ground, "We barely talk when he comes in, anyway."

The creases between his brows only deepened when he matched her gaze. "I do not want you becoming one of his victims, (Y/N)."

—————

#harry #harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #vampire harry styles #harry blurb #harry one shot #harry imagine #vampire harry #harry smut #harry styles smut

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year ago

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Spooky Requests: Watching Charlie Brown Halloween with either Eddie or Steve...I'm not picky. <3

.... porque no los dos? jk jk but seriously i had fun with this even if we lost the plot a little bit. thank you jo ily very dearly, and apologize for how out of hand this little request got. also, fun fact. i've never seen charlie brown halloween. who's gonna change that this halloween season hmmmm

warnings: none! just lowkey idiots in love, some pining, the usual

pairing: steddie x fem!reader

wc: 9.2k+

“I can’t believe neither of you idiots have ever seen this classic! You both love Halloween.”

Steve Harrington on a mission was a sight to behold. You were impressed, honestly. He had only found out about the crime, as he was calling it, of you and Eddie having never seen It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! that morning. And here he was, not even a full twenty-four hours later, having pulled together an impromptu movie night for the three of you to rectify the atrocities admitted.

“I told you, Stevie,” Eddie lounges on the couch, already comfortable in his sweatpants and Halloween socks you had bought for him last year. One of the seasonal blankets Steve magically had hiding away in his apartment was already draped across his lap as he picked at the small pumpkins decorating the fabric, “I’m more of a horror movie Halloween buff. Gore, ghosts, slashers – the good stuff.”

“Gross,” Steve absent-mindedly calls in response from the kitchen. You’re perched on the arm of the opposite end of the couch from Eddie, scowling as his feet peek out from under the blanket and he wiggles his sock-clad toes at you.

Gross, you mouth in repetition at Eddie, not mocking Steve but instead insulting Eddie’s feet that he happily stretches across what should be yours and Steve’s seats.

He raises his eyebrows as you both hear a cabinet in the kitchen opening loudly. Eddie’s eyes don’t leave your face as he yells over his shoulder, “Everything okay in there, Charlie Brown?”

“Har, har,” Steve sarcastically replies, but only after a slightly concerning, long pause.

“I’m gonna go help him,” you whisper, finally standing and swatting at Eddie’s legs, “And when I get back, I expect my seat to be free of your smelly, sweaty feet.”

“Oh, come on,” Eddie leans his head back in laughter as you walk past him, rolling your eyes, “You know you love the stink, bab-”

He doesn’t get to finish the pet name as you reach out for his sorry excuse of a bun, giving a sharp tug that has him gasping. His hands are quick to wrap around the back of your knees, nearly tripping you. A small dispute begins, all slapping hands with no intention of inflicting real pain as Eddie lifts up properly, grinning brilliantly at the antics.

Steve enters the kitchen doorway at the sound of the rustling to find you with both of Eddie’s wrists clutched between your hands, you leaning down to glare at him as he continues to look up with his boyish smirk. He can smirk all he wants, but it doesn’t distract from the glowing flush of his cheeks, all the awe in his eyes. It’s almost as fruitless to hide as your own secret enjoyment of his pest-like behavior.

“Am I… interrupting something?” Steve awkwardly asks, shifting on his feet.

You open your mouth to say no, absolutely not, but Eddie beats you to the punchline, “Actually, yes. Someone here thinks it’s funny to pull my hair before buying me dinner.”

Sudden shyness, smothering embarrassment, floods your system as you quickly drop Eddie’s wrists. He revels in your reaction, dimples flashing as he reaches out once more to grab onto your thighs.

You’re too quick for him this time. Stepping outside of his reach effortlessly as you try to catch your breath. Damn him.

Eddie Munson is a flirtatious tease. It’s in his blood; he is a pest, he is a flirt, and he is one of two absolute banes of your existence.

The other just happens to still stand shocked in the kitchen doorway.

“Do you need any help with snacks?” you grumble as you quickly shove past Steve and into the kitchen. Your gaze stays down, unable to look at either of the boys in the eyes for a moment as you head straight to where Steve has placed a bowl of popcorn.

Some sort of silent exchange surely must be occurring behind you between them, but you don’t bother with glancing over your shoulder to confirm it.

“Hey,” Steve finally follows behind you, grabbing the bowl of candy to your right, “Is everything alright?”

Yeah, totally alright. Just feel like my heart could burst out of my chest every time the two of you tease me like that. Just hate the way I wish the insinuations held more weight. Just really, really wish I wasn’t so hopelessly infatuated with my two best friends. It’s fine. Just peachy. Totally alright.

You forgo the internal dialogue spilling out into the air between the two of you, only shrugging and saying, “Fine. Why?”

“Just making sure,” Steve plays it off as nonchalant.

Maybe you should have spied on their private interaction. You’d assumed it was just joking glances or further teasing words exchanged, but maybe it had been something more. Something serious – concern for you, possibly.

You really hope you hadn’t hurt Eddie’s feelings with the way you’d escaped the mortifying scene so quickly. It’d put a slight damper on what was clearly just meant to be a nice, comforting night filled to the brim with Halloween nostalgia.

Steve clears his throat as you pick up the popcorn bowl and face him, face contemplative over words not quite forming on his open lips.

“Are you alright?” you question now, brows furrowing and hills of wrinkles forming between them.

He stares directly at them for a second, more careful consideration, before whatever war raging in his mind comes to a standstill, “Can I ask you a question?”

Oh, no. That’s never a good question to hear from one of your guy friends. Even with pining, assumingly unrequited crushes aside.

“Sure,” you try to keep your voice steady, even adding a casual shrug to mask any signs of anxiety creeping in, “Ask away.”

Is he about to ask if I have a crush on Eddie? Would I even admit I have a crush on Eddie? If I admitted to my crush on Eddie, would it be awkward to follow it up with an ‘Oh, but, hey! I also have a crush on you! No biggie!’?

There was a good reason you’d never approached either boy about your feelings. Confusion. All the feelings were a confusing, tangled, head-ache inducing pain to navigate. Easier to swallow them down and lock them tightly in your chest than to rain down devastation on a perfectly good friendship trio.

“Is there…” Steve pauses, licking his lips nervously, moving the bowl of candy from one hand to the other as if trying to procrastinate finishing his question, “Is there something going on between you and Eddie?”

Oh.

Well, it’s certainly not the type of embarrassment you expected.

“What?” you laugh skittishly, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like… are you two dating? Or, I don’t know – is there anything going on there?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Why are you avoiding?”

You both hit a stand-still, staring at each other with wide eyes. Your pupils are blown with fear of the exposure of your best kept secret, or at least half of it, but Steve’s seem to shine with something more. Like he knows something you don’t.

“I’m not avoiding,” you choke out, “Nothing’s happening between us. He’s always a flirt, you know this. Just last week, he was making jokes with you about how you could spit in his m-”

“Don’t remind me,” Steve cuts you off, cringing slightly, “That was gross. He was way too committed to that bit when he started trying to spit in my mouth.”

“You egged him on.”

“He ruined my appetite for a perfectly good strawberry milkshake.”

“You literally egged him on,” you laugh a little, glad for the subject change and that the spotlight was now on Steve, “Kept telling him he wouldn’t. You should know better than that by now.”

Steve only shrugs and begins to walk out of the kitchen, you following right behind.

He can avoid the topic all he wants, just as you tried to pathetically avoid the topic of there being anything between you and Eddie, but it doesn’t erase the fact that you’d never seen Steve Harrington blush before that night.

Maybe he was asking if you two were a thing out of jealousy. And oh, how ironic it would be if you had to sit back and watch Steve grow the balls to do something about his feelings for Eddie before you could. The two men that drove you insane, ending up dating.

The Universe is cruel, but you hope it isn’t that cruel.

“Took you two long enough,” Eddie dramatically sighs when you two re-enter the living room. He’s still splayed out across the couch, feet digging into the cushions as if for emphasis of him ignoring your request, “Thought I was going to starve to death out here.”

“You weren’t going to starve to death,” Steve scoffs. When he slaps Eddie’s shins, the older boy finally moves his legs, sitting up as the blanket falls partially off his lap.

“We can’t know that for sure.”

“I’m very sure you would have survived another five minutes.”

“Five whole minutes?” Eddie gasps, not letting the theatrics drop for one moment, “Jesus Christ, what the Hell were you two doing in there? Sucking each other’s faces off?”

Son of a fucking bitch.

You silently send up a plea to whatever greater power may be controlling the Universe, quietly insisting that both sides of Eddie Munson’s pillow are deathly hot tonight.

Normally, you could handle all the teases, all the innuendos. Hell, you’d even been able to handle a sudden influx of the behavior these last few weeks from both of them. So you can’t quite pinpoint why they all seem to get to you tonight. Maybe it’s the way they seem specifically targeted at only you, none of Eddie’s suggestive comments being spared for Steve tonight. Or maybe, it’s the way both boys seem to lock their gazes on you after each one, waiting patiently as they anticipate your reaction. Gauging the way your eyes widen, drinking in the way your breath quickens. Like predators with prey, it just feels like they’re toying with you.

You’re kind of grateful that you’re not watching one of Eddie’s normal slasher films tonight. At least Charlie Brown isn’t going to jumpscare you into one of them embarrassingly.

You haven’t responded yet, and Steve is clearly not about to entertain Eddie’s comment nor deny it shyly as he usually would. So you take a big breath, put on your brave face, and smile.

“Oh, yeah,” you curse the shake in your syllables, “I can officially confirm that Stevie is the best kisser in all of Hawkins. Congratulations.”

You end in flourish, matching Eddie’s performance with your own as you set the popcorn down on the coffee table and bow. When you look up, Steve is flush as Eddie smirks.

Again, not what you had expected. An eye roll from Steve, maybe some shock from Eddie at you keeping him on his toes.

The only person being kept on their toes tonight, it seems, is you.

Steve settles into the opposite end of the couch from Eddie before you can even fathom choosing a seat.

Damn it. Middle seat it is, then. Definitely not having an internal panic attack about this. Not at all freaking out.

The movie is already in the TV as you plop down between the boys, careful to not make direct contact with either. At this point, so much as a brush from their knee against yours would be equivalent to a terrible electric shock. You’re not in the mood for further teasing about being so skittish, or Eddie berating you for being scared of a movie like Charlie Brown.

You should have known better.

Eddie notices immediately, and instead of leaving it alone, he comments on it. Bastard.

“Why so far away?” he starts off teasing, throwing half of the pumpkin blanket he was using over one of your thighs. Immediately, his body heat becomes your own, and you scorn the way you want to lean into it. Press into his side, succumb to whatever shitty drugstore cologne he was wearing and the way his last cigarette is probably lingering to that stupid band t-shirt, “You’re not scared that my smelly, sweaty feet are gonna bite, are you?”

“They could,” you blandly reply.

Eddie and Steve share a look behind your head.

Your arms cross protectively over your chest, and you know it looks as if you’re pouting, but you swear you aren’t. You swim in the denial, telling yourself that the sourness in your mood is only a result of being on edge. It was just a bad week for your childish crushes – the quicker you get the stick out of your ass, the quicker you can return to normal, and the quicker you can ignore all your desperate temptations. All those silly butterflies and disgusting chills you get when Steve brushes up against you to grab something that’s just out of your reach, when Eddie throws an arm around your shoulders and his curls tickle your cheeks.

You’ll get over it. It’s fine. A perfectly cozy autumn night is no time to throw a pity party.

When you glance at Eddie as Steve is clicking his way through the movie’s menu, you catch him already looking at you. There’s no trace of his usual joking or relaxed boyish features. He looks genuinely scared, genuinely concerned that he’s upset you.

“Are you mad at me?” he whispers, straight to the point once he notices you looking back at him.

Immediately, you’re shaking your head.

You’re not mad at him. You’re mad about him. You’re mad that his hair looks so soft, and you always wish for more sudden vulnerable moments where he lets his guard down and your fingers detangle the curls. You’re mad that his lips look very kissable, even in the dead of winter when they crack terribly and he arrogantly turns down all your offers of lip balm. You’re mad that every time he laughs hard enough that he lets his head fall to your shoulder, a warmth impossible to shake settles in your bones.

And you’re mad for all the same reasons when it comes to Steve.

It is ridiculous. Stupid, reckless, foolish. Best friends don’t envision taking each other on cute fall dates. Best friends don’t look for every possible excuse to touch one another, to flirt with one another, to just be near one another.

You’ve fucked yourself over, really. Should’ve had half the mind to not fall for not only one, but both of your guy best friends. Idiot.

“I’m not mad,” you hoarsely whisper back as Steve frowns when his remote doesn’t work on the TV, standing to go manually hit play, “I’m sorry, Eds. I’ve just- it’s been a shitty week with work and stuff. I’ve been kind of a dick tonight. I’m sorry.”

Eddie visibly relaxes, moving to lay his arm on the couch behind your head. You do have half the mind to not freeze up at the proximity just as the side of his thigh presses against yours.

Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. Do not fuck this up.

That giddy child within you that wants to write their initials with yours in a wobbly, pathetic goddamn heart is jumping with joy. Idiot.

“Don’t apologize for that, sweetheart,” oh, fuck him for that endearment, dripping with adoration. You hate it solely for not being the type of adornment you wish you could afford, “Tonight’s a perfect distraction. Just us, a fuck ton of candy, and Charlie Brown with his big ass pumpkin.”

“It’s called the great pumpkin,” Steve corrects as he returns to the couch.

“To-may-toe, to-maw-toe,” Eddie brushes off, waving the hand not resting behind your head currently.

As Steve sits down, you can’t tell if it’s accidental or deliberate that he chooses to sit several inches closer to you. Suddenly, both thighs are now pressed up against each boy at either side of you.

“Whatever,” he huffs, motioning across you for the blanket from Eddie, “Just share the blanket and shut up.”

And despite being in your own personal Hell, the first hour or so of the cartoon goes fairly smoothly. Normal joking, plenty of Eddie’s manners going out the window as he makes comments through mouthfuls of popcorn, subtle passings of Steve unwrapping your favorite candies before handing them over to you without a word. It’s nice. For a moment, it’s the perfect fall night.

“That’s you,” Steve reaches a hand across you to jab Eddie in the shoulder before pointing out Pig-Pen in his ghost costume on the screen, scribbled dirt around him bouncing about.

“Excuse me?” Eddie scoffs, leaning forward to properly glare at Steve. But there’s no hate there, only gentle joking and enjoyment flaming away behind dark brown irises, “I’ll have you know I showered for this, Harrington. Can you say the same?”

You laugh quietly, stuck in the middle of the arguing boys as your eyes stay glued to the screen.

“You showered? What a miracle.”

“Bite me, Charlie Brown.”

You finally pull your eyes from the screen of the kids excitedly sharing what treats they received, trying to not smile at the iconic delivery of a deflated I got a rock as you peer up at Steve’s pouting lips.

He’s pretty, even this close. Faded freckles that will rest for the dreary months until the sun beckons them back to the surface come summer, full brows that still manage to frame his honeyed eyes even as he furrows them deeply.

“I can’t hear the movie over you idiots,” you whisper as he locks gazes with you, “Shut up and pass me another Reese’s cup, will you?”

You don’t have to ask twice. Steve leans down without protest and does as you ask, going so far as to once more tear away the orange wrapper before he places the peanut butter cup delicately in your waiting palm.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, honey.”

The words are more sincere than you’re prepared for. You know he means it as he looks at you with hazel eyes full of a desire, a longing, you’re not used to. Lashes fluttering, corners of his mouth pressing downward but not quite in discontent. He looks impossibly handsome without even trying. Effortlessly, he’s taking your breath away. You have to remind your chest to rise and fall, to remind yourself that this is nothing more than a movie night with friends.

Be normal. Act normal. This is normal.

Except you feel anything but normal when Eddie’s arm falls from the back of the couch and around your shoulders. A clearly intentional move attempted to be brushed off as an accidental action. His skin strikes against yours like a match against grain, and the slow embers they’d been stoking for weeks now erupt from you in a field of goosebumps following the chill running down your spine.

You don’t react.

Not when his thumb trails over the top of your shoulder in soft, sweeping motions. Not when Steve’s head eventually replaces Eddie’s hand on your shoulders as he succumbs to the week finally catching up to him, and you become entranced in the scent of his minty body wash clashing with the soft coconut of his shampoo. Not when your own heavy head smushes uncomfortably against Eddie’s biceps and your own snores join Steve’s in a symphony barely breaking over the volume of the sweet cartoon on the screen.

Eddie doesn’t wake either of you that night. Even when he really should. The three of you don’t finish the final thirty minutes of the movie, but it’s still the perfect fall night for all of you.

Maybe you’ll untangle your feelings for the two boys come winter.

—

“There’s no way you can lift that.”

“Fuck off, Harrington. Your pumpkin from last year was double this one in size.”

“And I was still able to pick it up. If you can’t carry it, we’re not getting it. Simple as that.”

Normally, you’d butt into Eddie and Steve’s arguments. Probably inject a comment about how it didn’t matter because there’s not a single pumpkin here that would ever be bigger than either of their heads — something sure to set them both off until you commanded their silence. Normally, you wouldn’t be so quiet.

But ever since the night of the Great Pumpkin, your mind has been restless enough to kill off any words before they can fall off your tongue.

A cycle of overthinking and overanalyzing has been haunting you for a week now. The memory of Eddie’s fingertips pressing into the ditches of your knees, and that particularly heartstopping look from Steve as he’d so sweetly referred to you as honey. You told yourself you’d get over it, and the morning after had even been close to normal. You’d all woken up with aches in your neck from that uncomfortable sleeping situation on Steve’s couch, and Steve had even offered to pay for you all to just get bagels from your favorite restaurant a block away rather than destroy his kitchen in a mission to make breakfast. Eddie had ordered everyone’s coffee just the way they liked it, you’d repeatedly pointed out cream cheese on both boys’ upper lips repeatedly, and it had all been easy.

And then you went home. And once the first nervous replay of the night began, it turned into an endless cycle.

“The pumpkin has to be big for the design I’m doing, Steve,” Eddie continues to argue as he stands over a larger pumpkin on display. The boys had thought it’d be a good idea to visit the pumpkin patch today.

They’d been right, of course. The weather was beautiful, crisp and dipping low enough to warrant cheesy fall attire. It’s the type of weather where you'd been able to break out a flannel and beanie, all without overheating. Families were walking through the small farm’s selection of pumpkins, children’s calls of glee could be heard from across the bales of hay, a distinct smell of cider off in the distance. The scene was set for a perfect autumn day.

Except for your raging mind. That, unfortunately, had been killing the mood.

Steve looks at you desperately, a few steps away from the two of them. Just enough space that if their petty argument became too embarrassing, you could easily convince someone you didn’t know them, “Please talk some sense into him.”

You hesitate before you finally give in and walk closer to Eddie. Your eyes focus on the oversized pumpkin rather than him. It’s too dangerous to fully drink him in; between his red flannel peaking out beneath his leather jacket and your beanie he had stolen to tuck over his own curls after complaining at the cooler weather, he looked too inviting. Too soft. Rosy cheeks and rosy lips called to you like a siren prepared to drown you in all the want that had begun to brew within your body since the movie night.

“It’s a… big pumpkin,” you state in obvious observation. Eddie tries to work you with his doe eyes instantly, and you hate the way you can feel it working, “Steve’s right. If you can’t carry it to the car, how are we getting it into the house?”

“Steve’s strong.”

At the mention of his name, Steve crosses his arms. And damn him, because the way his own brown corduroy jacket is straining over his biceps also has you dizzy with yearning, “I am not carrying that fucking thing into the house.”

“Why not? You’re a big, strong man-“ Eddie starts, almost tauntingly with a wicked grin, making you finally step in between them.

“The bigger the pumpkin, the bigger the mess,” you point out. Steve nods in solidarity, but Eddie is obviously unconvinced, “Eds, I’m not cleaning up all those pumpkin guts this year.”

A look of betrayal crosses his face, mingling with long lashes and faded dimples, “I swear I’ll clean up after myself. I wouldn’t do you like that, baby.”

There it is. You’d gone this entire day so far without any of Eddie’s usual flirtatious approaches. It had almost seemed like the two men had finally reigned themselves in.

Clearly, they hadn’t. They were just waiting for the right time.

“Pack up the puppy dog eyes, Munson. You’re a terrible liar,” you mumble out, pulling your own jacket tighter around your body as you move closer to Steve. He hadn’t started any onslaughts of flirting. Yet.

The moment you get near him, he wordlessly drops his faux irritation at Eddie and opens his arms, beckoning you to step into his space. You almost hesitate, but it was normal. The three of you were always touchy, and it was never a problem before.

Maybe if it had been, you wouldn’t be in your current predicament.

It’s clear he had taken a shower before the outing as your nose smashes against his t-shirt, the clear scent of his minty body wash and coconut shampoo replacing the air of fall around you. His arms are quick to wrap around your shoulders, only encouraging your body to press further into him. And you let him, because he’s warm, and despite all your teasing of Eddie’s complaints about the weather, you agreed that the chill was particularly unforgiving today. Especially in the shady patches void of sunlight.

The only real sunlight seemed to emit from the boy wrapped around you. He’s all tousled shades of golden and leftover fatigue from the early waking to make it out to the pumpkin patch at opening. As he hums into your embrace, you choose to just appreciate it, revel in it.

Eddie is pouting behind you, but out of sight – out of mind.

“I’m getting this pumpkin,” he says decidedly, “Fuck both of you.”

“Would you say it’s your great pumpkin?” you murmur against Steve, letting your eyes close, wondering if it’s possible to fall asleep standing up in this position.

Only Steve laughs at your joke, and you can’t tell if it’s because only he found it funny or if it’s because only he heard your reference to the unfinished movie from the night before.

It doesn’t matter, because the entire moment is interrupted when an older woman who had been bearing witness to the entire interaction suddenly speaks up.

“Well, aren’t you two just the cutest couple?”

All the warmth leaves your body, each muscle slowly stiffening as Steve tenses. You almost convince yourself that she wasn’t speaking to you, that there was another couple standing somewhere nearby that were currently gathered in embrace for her to coo at.

And then Steve answers her, “Us? Oh, we, uh-”

“Aren’t they?” Eddie interrupts, mischief dripping off each word as you slowly lift your head and open your eyes back to the grey day, “So in love it makes me sick to my stomach.”

Steve coughs up a few more syllables of protest, but Eddie has already done the damage. When you turn to face the lady, she’s wearing a brilliant smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as she looks at you and Steve in glee.

“Oh, I still remember that feeling,” she continues, a cloud of pure nostalgia glazing over her eyes for a moment before she looks to Eddie, “Don’t worry, dear. You’ll find it one day too, just like your friends.”

Eddie snorts. Easily mistaken as possible annoyance, inherent jealousy. Only you and Steve know better.

“We…” you begin, trailing off when you look up at Steve and see him brimming with hope. You expected discomfort, you expected irritation at whatever game Eddie was playing – you didn’t expect optimism at the prospect of you two being perceived as a couple. The ending to your sentence dies on your tongue, and you choose a polite response instead, “Thank you.”

Was there any real harm in letting some little old lady believe you two were in love? Probably not, especially considering the way she lights up and your faux admission satisfies her. An exchange of have a good day sends her on her way, and she never catches the way Eddie hunches over in laughter once she’s out of earshot. She doesn’t catch Steve Harrington blushing red or the way his arm swings out to smack Eddie in his chest, and she never notices the way you stand in the same place Steve left you, cold and confused and… disappointed?

No harm, no foul.

It was all a joke, anyways.

And that’s all it will ever be, even as you linger back and watch your boys continue their banter, all the while a hollow ache questioning just why the prospect of all that puppy love and youthful oblivion is so funny between the boys. Why the idea of one of them being yours, is so damn funny.

You kind of felt ridiculous. Even more ridiculous than Linus had been, waiting in that pumpkin patch for some great pumpkin to appear. You wish it were just silly children tales and blind hope at play. Your great pumpkin was a little more twisted, a little more complicated; an impossible choice, a gnawing conundrum you will never unravel.

If you could make a choice, it might be easier.

But why would ever need to make a choice when all it will ever be to the two boys who have come to plague your every waking thought as nothing more than a joke?

Eddie gets his great pumpkin, and Steve ends up carrying it into the house that day. You’re the only one to return home with more than just empty arms.

—

Halloween parties are the perfect recipe for disaster.

Spiked cider, struggling fog machines, loud replays of Monster Mash, and a small crowd of half-assed costumes. Every other year, your friends had thrown this type of ‘spooky’ themed get-together, and you would enjoy every single moment of it. Quite literally, every single moment – from the terrible and impromptu karaoke sessions to the ridiculous apple-bobbing contests that Argyle always excelled at. It was always a night full of light, a night full of laughter. Something to leave your chest feeling fizzy as it would always end surrounded by all your favorite people, particularly Eddie and Steve.

This year, it feels like more of a burden.

You’re feeling like something hollow, something monstrous – no costume required – as you stew in quiet misery for the first few hours. The movie night and the pumpkin patch visit have left you feeling something new. Something that had grown claws and growled to be recognized in all its painful yearning and pitiful pining.

Steve questioning you about having something more with Eddie had driven a knife into your chest, and the prospect of being seen as a couple with Steve had torn it free of your ribs. Not quite bleeding, but not quite healing, you’d been haunted by a series of what-ifs that stole away hours of sleep and any time of relaxation you’d normally seek as all the leaves changed colors.

What if you wanted something more with Eddie?

What if you wished that you and Steve were a couple?

What if you could never make a choice?

The allusion of a choice to be made still dangled on the forefront of your buzzing cortex. It still felt just as ridiculous as the first time you’d realized you’d been experiencing more than platonic feelings for your best friends; like a child outside a candy store, without money and without hope to go home with any of the sweets that made your mouth water. Everyone could see you staring in through the windows, you swore they could, and they were probably silently mocking the way you drooled. It was stupid.

It was putting a real damper on your entire mood.

“What’s up with you?” Robin questions finally as she walks up to where you sit on the balcony of her shared apartment with Nancy. At some point, you’d decided the frigid chill of the night would be a better place to soak in all your misery.

“What do you mean?” you blandly ask, not even looking up from the railing your eyes had focused on.

Robin joins you on the garden couch, shifting the flimsy seating a bit from the force of her throwing herself down dramatically, “I mean, why are you out here all alone? And why have you been so quiet tonight? Did something happen?”

Straight to the point. One of the reasons you liked Robin – her lack of a filter was something you’d always seen as more of a gift rather than a curse.

“Nothing happened,” you shrug, head feeling light despite the storm that had been brewing for nearly the entire month now. Your fingertip trails around the rim of the now-warm bottle of cider you’d been nursing after chugging two previously. You wanted to be drunk. You wanted to down enough alcohol that you wouldn’t even remember Steve and Eddie’s names by the end of the night.

“You’re doing that thing they do in the movies,” Robin notes, finally making you look at her with raised eyebrows, “You know, where they say nothing’s wrong but it’s all… sad,” she waves her hands erratically through her ramble of an explanation, one hand clutching her own bottle of beer. You can see the condensation through the lowlights and simply know her adult equivalent of apple juice is far cooler than yours. Probably tastes better, too, “Like, something is obviously wrong, but you’re gonna make me work for the answer.”

You laugh under your breath. The silence is filled with static noises of night; you can still hear the chatter of your friend group and whatever Halloween-themed song they were playing over the speakers through the shut sliding door, an orchestra of insects hum their complaints through the dark apartment complex, a soft whistle of the fall breeze rustles all the trees lurking in the shadows.

She’s right. It’s dramatic, it’s stupid, it’s ridiculous – and she’s right.

You sigh out and feed into your theatrics as you fall back against the cushion of the couch, finally matching her slouch, “Have you ever watched the Charlie Brown Halloween special?”

“What?” she scoffs, no trace of rudeness in her remark but rather confusion, “You mean the one where all the kids are trick-or-treating, and that one weirdo is waiting for some magical pumpkin king with that other girl? What does that have to do with-”

“I feel like that weirdo,” you interrupt, staring straight ahead, “Like Linus. Just standing in a pumpkin patch and waiting for some great pumpkin that isn’t going to show. And I know I look silly, but a part of me really believes, y’know? I just can’t stop waiting for something to happen that might never-” you cut yourself off with a sharp breath. That wound in your chest, the one only you can see, throbs. Not bleeding, not healing. Just yearning as you correct yourself, “For something that won’t ever happen. Ever. There’s no great pumpkin, and I just end up looking like a fool.”

Robin’s silence is unnerving. No amount of sounds of the night can blanket over the discomfort begging to bubble over.

“I think I’m just drunk,” you try to save yourself, “I’m sorry, it’s dumb-”

“What’s your great pumpkin?” she asks carefully, “What are you waiting for?”

The alcohol must really be having an affect, because your loose lips are finally moving to their own accord.

“Eddie and Steve.”

She scrunches her face, “What about those dinguses?”

“They’re my great pumpkin.”

You’re clearly nonsensical as Robin shifts to lean forward, entering your blank line of sight, “Are you…. Like, you want them to get together? Sorry, I’m not really following here, Linus.”

The nickname almost makes you smile. Almost.

“I mean, not really,” you try to forage your brain for the right words to explain, but there’s no poetic way to put what’s been on your mind, “I like them. Both of them. Have for a while now, but it’s… it doesn’t really matter, anyways.”

You’re drunk enough to not hear the tapping on the sliding door. And if Robin does, she makes no move to react to it, still focused on you.

“You like both of those idiots? Oh, thank god,” she almost sounds relieved, and your head snaps to her direction.

You still don’t see the figure standing inside the doorway, moving to open the door.

“Thank God?” you laugh humorlessly, “I am not thanking God. It’s miserable, Robs. I like them both so fucking much, and I just- what am I supposed to do with that? They’re my best friends, and I should know better. Besides, liking two guys at once can never work out. What am I supposed to do? Shove them into a room with me and go, ‘oh, hey, I like both of you. And I can’t choose, so I’m just going to make you live with that. Also, Eddie, lay off the flirting, because it sort of makes my heart stop and my chest all tight. And Steve, please don’t call me honey, because it also makes me feel all terribly weird. But also neither of you ever stop either of those things, because I might keel over and die if I’m not receiving all your affections, platonic or otherwise.’”

Your admittance all comes out in one breath, saying exactly what you wish you could say to the two boys. You don’t care how foolish you sound to Robin right now – the cider has taken care of all your shame.

It’s just nice to say it outloud.

Very nice, in fact, until movement behind Robin catches your eye, and you realize you had not been alone during your ramble.

Eddie.

“Oh, fuck me,” the normally internal dialogue comes out as a sigh, eyes wide in stricken fear as Robin turns to face your own waking Hell.

“Welp,” Robin’s very helpful reaction tries to break the tension to no avail, “I… I think I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll- Yeah. I’m gonna go.”

She jumps up before you have the chance to reach out and stop her. Your hand aches to just wrap around her forearm, to beg her to not leave you alone to burn with all your shame and embarrassment, but she’s gone before you’ve even moved a muscle.

Her seat vacated, and in her absence, Eddie takes her place.

Kill me. Kill me now, please. Have mercy on me-

“So…” Eddie begins, fiddling with his hands as he looks down at his lap. In the shadows, you don’t see the ghost of a grin on his lips, “You like us?”

“If you’re about to make fun of me,” you state flatly, bristling in your seat, all liquid confidence beginning to evaporate, “I’d rather you save me the embarrassment, and just kill me. Make it quick and painless, please.”

All your pity partying was easier to swallow than this. You liked your brooding solitude far more than the acceptance that Eddie had just heard your very mortifying speech, liked the assumption that you might have been upset with the boys more than them knowing the truth.

Eddie throws his hands up in surrender, “Not making fun of you. I swear.”

“Well, if you’re about to reject me, can you also make that quick and painless?”

“Who said I was rejecting you?”

“I know it’s fucking weird and I just ruined everythin- wait, did you just say you’re not rejecting me?”

You were so convinced that the outcome would always be bloody, always painful and bitter, that you hadn’t prepared for this. You had a hundred and one speeches prepared about how you agreed with the boys, how you were all better off friends and how you would reassure them that in a few months’ time, you’d be able to get over the silly crushes.

There were no practiced words on the tip of your tongue for the instance in which they found out and reacted well.

Eddie continues to grin under the lowlight of the porch light, looking at you sideways, not a single glimpse of him running from this evident.

“I’m not rejecting you,” he repeats himself, shuffling a bit closer on the couch, “And I’m definitely not making fun of you.”

You’re a bit speechless still. He’s close enough that his shoulder brushes yours, his knee briefly bumping the side of yours in an attempt to get you to look at him. Like a moth to the flame, you dare to turn your head, to fully take in the proximity.

“You did hear everything I said, right?” you can imagine the way the scent of cider mingles with your breath as you whisper softly to him. You almost consider grabbing what’s left of your third, or fourth possibly, bottle and just chugging as you had done with your previous drinks.

But being drunk would be a penniless attempt. When Eddie is looking at you like this, there is no amount of alcohol that could combat the sobering effect he has on you. The chill in the air hadn’t done it, the lingering smell of a bonfire somewhere in the distance was futile – but those big, brown eyes shocked you right out of your inebriated state.

Endless. They were endless in entertainment, in bewitching, in calling out to the wound in your chest. The gash might even be bleeding finally at this point as your heart hammers and your bones threaten to break.

“Every. Single. Word,” his lips spread thinner as he punctuates each word, corners of his mouth upturning to impossible heights, “Are you sure you don’t want me to stop all my flirting? Because, by all means, I can. It would be a shame, though, considering I was right.”

You hardly notice the way you’re leaning in closer to him, “Right about what?”

When he meets you halfway, own body succumbing to the gravitational pull you possessed and had no idea of, you finally note the further lack of distance.

“Right about you liking us,” his breath hits your chin as he sighs, “Right about the fact that you don’t squirm every time I joke about kissing you because it makes you uncomfortable. At least, not in the way Steve always assumed,” he pauses, body slowly angling towards yours. The only symptom of his nerves you’re able to catch is the hard swallow, as if he’s keeping all his fears at bay before he continues, “I need to ask you something, and this time, it is not a joke.”

Maybe the creators of Charlie Brown should have let Linus drink. Then, he would have seen his great pumpkin, just as you were now.

“Ask away,” you expect it to come out as a stutter, to falter and trip over your request.

But you don’t. Even in your fuzzy state of mind, you’ve never been more sure of what Eddie is about to ask of you.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your reply is half an eager nod, half a pathetic mumble of please. The moment Eddie has your permission, his lips find yours, sour from cider and sweet from candy.

It’s better than your overactive imagination had been able to conjure the last few weeks – last few months. Once you two find some sort of broken stride, an exchange of lips and teeth and tongue that feels right, you almost scold yourself for having sat in fear for so long. You should be mulling over the way this wouldn’t end well, the way this was too good to be true, but you can’t. When your fingertips tangle up the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck, and his own hand rests gently around your throat as he pulls you closer, you don’t second guess anything.

You’re kissing Eddie. He knows you like him, knows you like Steve as well, and he’s kissing you.

Right around the time you’ve nearly found yourself in Eddie’s lap, and all the air in your lungs has been stolen, the sliding door to the balcony opens again. You don’t want to break apart from Eddie – you think you’d rather take another metaphorical knife to the chest than do so – but he’s quick to separate without giving you a choice.

If you weren’t so terrified of coming across as something too needy, a greedy animal full of whines of protest, your lips would have chased after him.

Instead, your eyes flutter back open to find Steve Harrington standing behind Eddie, eyes wide as they can go as he takes in the scene he’s walked into.

In an instant, you jump backwards, putting distance between yourself and Eddie as a symphony of curses ring through your mind like alarms, “Steve.”

Eddie has the nerve to merely smile.

“Nice of you to join us, big boy,” he calls casually over his shoulder as Steve walks further out onto the balcony. Your heart is still beating out of your chest, realizing what Steve had just witnessed.

You fucked up.

“Steve, I didn’t-” you start to try to defend yourself, but it feels a bit useless as he looks right at Eddie, almost as if awestruck.

“Robin came and got me, what the fuck happened?”

You wish you could wipe the floor with Eddie’s smugness, momentarily forgetting all the emotions he had just pulled from you with a simple kiss as he smirks up at Steve, “I was right.”

You try to anticipate Steve’s reply. A play by play of a fight that might break out, a rejection still waiting to happen, a punchline that had yet to land.

His lack of reply is almost worse.

He glances down at you, eyebrows quirked in curiosity as all the hurried energy leaves him in slow spurts. His shoulders drop in relaxation, near relief, and a soft smile plays at his lips. Once curled fists now unfurl, subtly swiping away sweaty palms on the sides of his denim-covered jeans. Every action, every smoothing over in his anxiety, sends you sinking deeper into the cushions.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you mutter, shrinking under his gaze.

“Because he was right,” Steve takes a slow step forward, still underplaying his smile, “Because that shithead was right, and you like us.”

It hadn’t occurred to you that they had discussed this. It was never a possibility in your mind that they’d also been running over scenarios, considering their own what-ifs all the while you’d been losing your mind.

But it makes sense.

Why else would they have continued to flirt with you this way? Why else would there have been such a steady progression in how far they were willing to take all the jokes, all the bits? Months of memories flash before you, and the final click into place occurs when Steve drops into what little space was left on the other side of you. It forces you to scooch over, press even closer to Eddie, leaving you to be completely sandwiched between the two men tightly.

There’s still a little bit of bravery left somewhere in you. Just a spark, but enough to have you looking at Steve with determination.

“Hey, Steve?”

“What’s up, honey?”

Eddie’s squeak of laughter doesn’t go unnoticed. But you refuse to react and lose this momentum.

“Can you kiss me?”

If you were reading this entire scenario correctly, drunk or not, the answer would be yes.

No choices necessary. You could have your cake, and eat it too.

Steve looks past you, over your shoulder and at Eddie, “You’re drunk, honey-”

“It doesn’t matter,” you insist, “I promise, I want this. Sober or not. Just…” you falter finally, taking a deep breath. Steve’s cologne, Eddie’s last cigarette lingering on his jacket, and the crisp autumn air fill your lungs. “One kiss. Nothing more. I swear.”

“You really gonna make her beg, Harrington?”

“Fuck off,” Steve’s softness when it comes you isn’t extended to Eddie, sending a warning glance the other boy’s way, “The only reason you’re not on my shit list is because you’re also plastered.”

“I’m not plastered,” you and Eddie say in sync.

Just like that, the high-rise tension has broken. Eddie rests his chin on your shoulder, clearly no longer afraid of the closeness that had become a normal before the ‘unfortunate’ overhearing of your admission. His arms wrap around your waist, pout on his lips as his temple leans against your hair.

“You’re lucky you’re both cute, you know that?” Steve muses, shaking his head softly.

You’re both cute. The sweet amusement nearly stitches up the once gaping hole in your chest immediately.

“You gonna kiss her or not?” Eddie’s voice is loud in your ear despite his low volume, chin moving against the apex of your shoulder, “Because if not, my lips are growing awfully cold-”

Steve’s hand lifts and thumps Eddie’s forehead immediately, loud enough for you to hear the impact as he leans off of you dramatically, letting out a groan of complaint.

You almost turn, a bit too eager to witness theatrics you’d normally roll your eyes at, when Steve’s palms cradle your cheeks with unexpected softness.

“Hey, look at me, yeah?” he barters. And his wish is your command, your attention wholly his as you look at him worriedly. Although the sentiment of him hesitating to kiss you while drunk was sincerely endearing, you don’t know if you could handle any form of rejection right now.

You bite your lip, and Steve’s thumb is quick to come and tug gently below your mouth, forcing your bottom lip to be freed from between your teeth.

“One kiss,” he says sternly, brows furrowing, “I’ll kiss you, mostly because I’m a selfish bastard who’s terrified you won’t ask again when sober, but we are talking about this in the morning,” he leans back a little, and looks at Eddie pointedly, “All of us.”

“Stop stalling and kiss h-”

Eddie never gets to finish his sentence.

Steve kisses differently than Eddie, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s more sober or if that’s just how it is. But it’s something you’d like to learn; you’d like to memorize the patterns of both their lips, the differences in the touch of their hands as they pull you in deeper, the comparison of Steve’s stable and sure hands versus Eddie’s shaking and coloused ones.

Steve is a generous kisser, a follower at your beck and call. He lets you set the pace and lead the way. You control when the two of you pull back for air, when his teeth graze at your bottom lip, when he lets out soft and pretty sighs into the kiss. He’s all sweetness, none of the sour you’d tasted on Eddie’s tongue to be found.

Just like honey.

How fitting.

When Steve finally takes an inch of control and releases you, formally ending the kiss and leaving you just as breathless as Eddie had, you swear you’re seeing stars. You’re dizzy with want. You wish you hadn’t chugged those beers, you nearly consider getting down on your knees and begging both men for more. They’ve given you what you’d craved, and more, but you’re a selfish animal. Prepared to dig in your claws and call for more than you bargained for.

“One kiss,” he reminds you when you lean in for a second. He’s smiling like he might let you get away with it if you really pushed for it, though.

You play innocent instead, leaning back until your back nearly bumps into Eddie’s chest.

“One kiss,” you nod, fighting back a smile as you look at the man before you.

A great pumpkin indeed.

“You know, I don’t have a one kiss policy,” Eddie sighs from behind you, and you can feel the way he throws himself back on the couch.

When Steve rolls his eyes, you truly believe he’s about to only offer a snarky reply rather than what he does instead.

He places a warm palm on the center of your back, encouraging you to lean forward with care before he’s reaching out for the collar of Eddie’s shirt and dragging behind you for a quick kiss.

You nearly break your neck just to witness the tail end of it all.

“There, happy?”

Eddie is just as shocked at you, flushing scarlet all the way down his neck, sinking beneath the collar of his t-shirt.

“I- Uh-” he stutters out, at a loss for words, “Y-Yeah. I- Yeah, very happy.”

“Good,” Steve seems satisfied as he guides you back into place, practically manhandling you to lay back in your seat so that your shoulders are comfortably pressed to both his and Eddie’s side, “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to go back in there, enjoy the party with our friends, and you two drunk idiots are going to stay out of trouble. And then come tomorrow morning, we’re going to get breakfast, deal with your absolute monsters of hangovers, and… talk about this,” he pauses and vaguely gestures at the three of you with a small smile, “Capiche?”

“Aye, aye, capt’n,” Eddie murmurs as you whisper back an echo of “capiche”.

“Yeah?” Steve questions again, catching your eye with a smug smile.

“Yeah,” you nod, speaking up a bit louder as you decide to take one last daring risk, “I do have one last request, though.”

“Hit me, honey.”

“You know, she allegedly hates when you call her hon-”

“Shut up,” Steve cuts Eddie off, focus on you and only you, “Ignore him. What’s your request?”

You look between the two boys, realization settling heavily as you recognize that this is real. You had yearned, you had pined, you had wanted until every nerve-ending in your body had ached, and now? Now you have them. Technicalities aside, you had gotten all that you had craved.

And to think you’d assumed you’d be waiting until winter to unravel all that now sat in the palm of your hands.

“Can we have a movie night?” you ask, a bit meeker than intended, “Maybe… I dunno… finish that Charlie Brown movie?”

Eddie’s laughter from behind you is music to your ears, and the smile that spreads across Steve’s cheeks should be hung up in a museum for your perusing whenever you please.

“Yeah, of course we can,” Steve assures you, a hand coming down on your knee, “Right, Eds?”

“I suppose,” Eddie sighs. His arm is on your shoulders, just like that first night, and this time you let the match ignite.

Honestly, the flames had engulfed you long ago. You just wish it hadn’t taken you so long to succumb to their warmth reflected in the brown eyes of the boys on either side of you.

The three of you do rejoin the party. Finding a bit of enjoyment now that you aren’t drowning in your pity party. Steve is right in his prediction of the hangovers – it might be one of the worst you’ve ever had the privilege of experiencing – but after a very sincere talk with your boys (including an only slightly grumpy Eddie, it’s worth it.

And when the three of you do finish your movie night, this time shamelessly cuddling up and sneaking kisses between sweet scenes, you can’t help but giggle at Linus finally seeing his Great Pumpkin.

At least you know yours is the real deal, especially when Eddie is the one to fall asleep this time in the final ten minutes, his head in your lap and Steve’s hand tangled in his curls.

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone @alwayslindie @royale1803 @onegirlmanytales @whyamiheresomeonehelp @mrsjellymunson @live-love-be-unique @hazydespair @gothvamp1973 @kennedy-brooke @kittydeadbones @hollysleeps @hellojameshowyadoin @munsonzgf @browneyes8288 @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @siriuslysmoking @mandyjo8719 @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng

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#ghost's writing #ghost's stories #ghostly halloween #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie x reader #steddie x you #ghost's taglist is nearly full by the way haha #i can't remember my writing tag FUCK

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cringefaecompilation · 4 months ago

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not to dunk on junior year again but i am noticing a pattern here with the treatment of certain storytelling elements here.

both bell’s hells and the ratgrinders were pcs that gained sapience. the difference is that the ratgrinders were villains and the hells are heroes.

one of the most love-it-or-hate-it aspects of campaign 3 is that it does not only focus on the main 7 or 8 characters and everybody else is tossed to the wayside unless they benefit them like usual. all npcs (with downfall, that's including the gods!) deserve a chance to have their story told and they are all written to be that. the generic runaway prince you have to help escape to a life of freedom! the cute little helper robot npc! generic spooky evil minions based on public domain monsters! the quirky quest-giving fae! the rough and tumble hired goon! the brave captain of the guard protecting a strong lady in charge! yes, even imogen, who in any other story would be the sad little abandoned daughter of the bbeg who would mourn the hero killing her mother but understand that the hero had to do what needed to be done.

and again, you don’t have to like it!

but there is a weird sort of thing i noticed amongst all the critical role c3 criticism that reminded me of people defending fhjy. an undercurrent of insisting that all the ratgrinders (who were teenagers. who were groomed and then murdered.) were pure evil spoiled brats and just wanted to be handed everything on a platter because they didn’t deserve what the main cast earned their place as the main characters and made passive aggressive posts saying things to the tune of you know they’re evil right. very Watsonian with a staunch refusal to look at a Doylist explanation. it got so bad to the point where people were insisting that if you liked the ratgrinders and sympathized with them then you were a fascism apologist.

astoundingly enough c3 criticism has only scraped the surface of this sort of overdramatic accusation, but it goes in the opposite direction. if you like where the story is going and how it's being told, then you’re not a real critical role fan. the story should have just been about the characters fighting evil fae or just wiping out the ruby vanguard and everyone in it without all this stupid introspective discussion on power because it’s retconning the gods being bad guys! grey morality sucks, why can’t good guys just be good? they all feel like npcs except for imogen because she’s the only one with a chosen birthright!

(of course, if they say that last part out loud, that might not look so good for them)

yes, we know the gods are imperfect. that’s what we’ve been saying this whole time. but all these passive aggressive gifsets of liam-as-orym saying that the gods aren’t pure evil and it’s stupid to think so or laura and matt ooc saying that the gods have a grey area don’t mean fucking jack if you turn around and insist the gods have zero flaws and everything they do is good, actually and Aeor Had It Coming.

important caveats:

the actors on d20 could not react to things they were doing in the moment. they were tired after filiming 3 episodes back to back and wrapped up their season faster than usual to join the sag-aftra strike. i am aware of this.

yes i know that d20 is a comedy improv series! that does not prevent it from having deep themes and character introspection! ayda aguefort and zelda donovan still very much exist and had their own arcs despite being npcs!

yes the ratgrinders were working with a man trying to kill and replace a goddess and yes he is a colonizing twat. however, doesn’t that also make it the fandom’s insistence that liking the kids is bad and fascistic but making ship art of him and the other teacher that killed all of them is totally okay? rules for he but not for thee?

#🍃#critical role #critrole #dimension 20 #d20 #fantasy high junior year #fantasy high #cr downfall #ratgrumblr #it's adjacent to it at least lol #for anybody wondering what my blog title is in reference to: the d20 drama #someone unironically called brennan that #and i can't help but feel like the actual guy trying to reunite with his native heritage might have more say in that matter

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thenightling · 3 months ago

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Addressing some old confusion about Nightmare before Christmas

Tim Burton is getting a lot of attention lately because of the new Beetlejuice sequel so a lot of his other work is being talked about. The Spooky season also leads to conversations about his work. And every year it's the same thing. Someone will list their favorite Tim Burton movies and someone will go "Umm... Actually, Henry Selick directed Nightmare before Christmas." Yes, he did. But I am willing to argue that three men deserve the bulk of the credit for Nightmare before Christmas. First we need to go backward to the early 1980s when a young Tim Burton was working for Disney as an animator, uncredited, for The Fox and the Hound. An unpleasant aspect of working for Disney is anything you create while working for Disney... belongs to Disney. While working for Disney Tim Burton doodled the characters that would become the main characters of Nightmare before Christmas. He also wrote a long-form story book / poem in the style of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" by Dr. Seuss. It wasn't until the early 1990s that Disney finally agreed to allow this story to be adapted into a film, and also allowed the book, itself, to finally be published a mere few months before the 1993 release of the movie adaptation. In the early 90s there was a cinematic trend that the author of a Gothic book was in the movie title such as Bram Stoker's Dracula and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. But as Bram Stoker and Mary Shelley are long dead, no one mistook them as the director of their movies. The easy mistake may have been deliberate on Disney's part since Disney was preying on the (then) current rising success of Tim Burton's film directing career. (The 2004 Halmark mini-series of Frankenstein is closer to the Mary Shelley novel than the movie called Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, by the way.) Early in the production of the movie Tim Burton went to composer Danny Elfman's home and told him the story piece by piece. Danny Elfman immediately related to the protagonist Jack Skellington as he was in the middle of his own identity crisis as a the lead singer of New Wave rock band, Oingo Boingo. Danny Elfman had recently discovered his talent for and love for film and TV composing. Danny Elfman soon had eleven songs composed that made a full opera of the story Tim Burton told him. In fact, according to Danny Elfman, Tim Burton is uncredited but wrote some of the lyrics. Danny Elfman became so attached to Jack Skellington that he was also the character's singing voice for the movie. Danny Elfman's opera version of the story (just the songs without dialogue between them) became the basis for annual concerts that were performed as recently as last year at the Hollywood Bowl.

Henry Selick was the director of Nightmare before Christmas (the movie) and he had to deal with the tedious work of overseeing the entire stop motion process, probably the most painstaking part of the project. Caroline Thompson wrote the script for Nightmare before Christmas but only after the eleven songs were composed, the dialogue she wrote for the movie consisted of less than ten minutes of the movie's running time. So for the confused: The director of Nightmare before Christmas was Henry Selick. He had to oversee the entire stop motion animation process. The score, song lyrics, and Jack Skellington's singing voice was Danny Elfman, who wrote all eleven songs before there was a script and wrote them so well that they could stand without a script. (But he says Tim Burton wrote some of the lyrics but is uncredited). Tim Burton wrote the original short story / poem that was published the same year as the movie's release as an illustrated children's book. Tim Burton wrote some of the lyrics, chose the color pallets of the sets, and even was the one who decided Sally's socks would have to be striped when the puppet couldn't stand up right because her ankle were too small. Yes, Henry Selick should get credit as the director. But Tim Burton should also get credit for the original story, the character designs / concept art, and Danny Elfman needs the credit for all The scoring, most of the lyrics, and Jack Skellington's most passionate moments as he was the singing voice and Jack did a lot more singing than talking.

These three men, together, with their collective talents, are why we have Nightmare before Christmas.

#Nightmare before Christmas #Tim Burton #Danny Elfman #Henry Selick

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elianamarie-blog · 1 year ago

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The Things You Give Pt. 32

WhOoO wEeE! It's be a long time. Sorry it took so long! I've had a wild summer, yall. I moved and been pretty darn tired! I've also been stuck in a writing rut, so please forgive me. But I think I got it! I hope you like this chapter! It took a bit to write and I hope I do it justice. Thank you, loves! For everything. By the way, it's finally spooky season! Yay!

“What are you doing here?” Y/n asked incuriously.

“I’m here to pick up some stuff,” he responded and leaned against the doorframe, staring her up and down. “Whoa, who did this to you?”

“Who the hell are you?” Hyde asked, coming up behind Y/n.

“Connor,” he replied coyly and flicked his dirty blonde hair out of his eyes. “Who are you?”

“I’m her husband,” he said defensively.

“Oh, yeah I heard about you,” Connor said, wagging a finger at him. “You’re the one that got busted for carrying. Like, two years ago, right?”

“Yeah, now answer my question.”

Connor smirked and eyed Y/n up and down. “I was her camp counselor a couple years back.”

Hyde looked to his wife whose eyes never left Connor’s. “Is he the one you…?”

“Yep,” Y/n responded shortly.

“And it looks like I dodged a bullet,” Connor snickered.

Y/n sharply inhaled, a throbbing headache already coming on. “What do you want, Connor?”

“I’m here for my dad,” he responded. “Wanted me to pick up something from Red.”

“What? What could he have that you need to pick up?”

“Hey, Connor!” Red greeted as he came from the den. “Glad you’re here! Wanna follow me into the garage?”

“How do you know each other?” Y/n asked.

“I ran into his dad while at the hardware store the other day,” Red replied. “He told me that he was in need of a chainsaw and I told him ‘No need, you can borrow mine.’”

The couple raised their eyebrows at him.

“You’re willingly letting someone borrow one of your tools?” Y/n asked incredulously. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my dad?”

Red chuckled. “I know his dad. We’ve known each other for years. We served together in Korea.”

“Oh…” she trailed off, her stomach dropping. “Of course, he did.”

“How bout that?” Hyde chuckled, jealousy starting to boil in his veins.

“How do you two know each other?” Red asked, turning the question back on them.

“I was her camp counselor,” Connor repeated. “We had a good time and got to know each other pretty well.” He drawled on those last two words, not breaking eye contact with her.

Y/n glared at him, her fingers starting to itch from wanting to wrap them around his throat.

Red furrowed his brows at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing,” Y/n answered through clenched teeth. “We got to know each other just like everyone else.”

Red couldn’t help but squint his eyes at the three young adults: Y/n standing rigid, clenching her jaw while Steven stood stiff as well with his fists balled up, knuckles white. Then there was Connor whose smirk never left his face, eyes scanning his daughter like a piece of meat. Any likeness he had towards the kid was quickly going down the drain.

“Alright, Connor, follow me to the garage,” Red said, less enthusiastic as before.

“Yes, Mr. Forman,” Connor said dutifully and brushed past Y/n without breaking eye contact—or his smirk.

Once those two disappeared behind the kitchen, Y/n spun to Hyde whose eyes were locked on the kitchen door. If she didn’t know any better, he would be able to burn holes into it.

“That son of a bitch,” she spit.

“I hate him,” he said shortly.

“Yeah, me too,” she sighed and got back to helping everyone clean. “Just don’t pay any mind to him. It’s what he wants.”

“Why did he bring up your guys’ past like that?” Eric asked.

Y/n froze as she was picking up the plates. “Uh...I don't know. Reasons?"

“What reasons?” Donna pressed, grinning wickedly.

Y/n whipped her head towards her, baring her teeth. “Shut. Up,” she mouthed.

“Nothing, guys,” Y/n said without making eye contact. “Just drop it, okay?”

“Y/n…what aren’t you telling us?” Kitty asked nervously.

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, getting visibly nervous. “Let’s just clean up because I’m getting tired and want to go to bed.”

“Y/n, it’s six o’ clock,” Donna pointed out.

“Yeah, well, you try carrying twins!” she snapped.

Donna laughed as she carried the rest of the plates in the kitchen.

“Y/n…please tell me you didn’t do anything with that boy,” Kitty almost begged, nervous.

“Uhm…” she stumbled, her brain short-circuiting.

“You know what, I don’t want to know,” Kitty said, almost disgusted. “All my children are sex maniacs.” She rushed out the living into the kitchen.

“Okay, but seriously, what the hell?” Y/n hissed once Kitty was out of earshot. “Out of all people, he had to be the one to show up at my front door!”

“What’s the big deal?” Eric asked. “It’s not like he’s going to stir up anything. He’s just here to pick something for his dad.”

“No, absolutely not,” she responded. “Knowing Connor, he’s going to pull something Zack would do.”

“You know, I’m getting real tired of all these surprise visitors,” Hyde grumbled and picked up some plates off the coffee table. “It’s starting to dwindle my will to live.”

“You don’t think he’s going to tell Dad about you two, do you?” Eric asked nervously.

“If he’s asking for an ass whooping, then sure,” his twin chuckled. “I’m not worried about Dad’s reaction, I want to know his true intention.”

“Yeah, it can’t get worse than finding out about you and Hyde,” Donna chuckled.

“Yeah,” Y/n trailed off, remembering the murder that almost took place. She shook her head, bringing herself back in the moment. “Anyway.”

“He can’t do any worse than what Zack did,” Donna said.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Y/n grumbled. “I’m really not in the mood to kick his ass, too.”

“Hey, I’m your husband. That’s my job,” Hyde piped up and smiled at her, making his way into the kitchen.

“And you’ll look sexy while doing it,” she responded and followed him into the kitchen.

Eric and Donna trailed behind them as well, carrying the rest of the garbage and dishes.

Kitty sat at the table with a glass of bourbon, reading a Cosmo magazine.

“Uh, oh. Someone pulled out the bourbon,” Y/n sang-song. “What’s got you upset?”

“Oh, nothing,” Kitty said hoarsely as she flipped through her magazine. “It’s nice knowing all my children are sinners.”

“Ugh, Mom,” Eric and Y/n groaned in unison.

“And the fact that you two partied and drank in high school,” Hyde tsked, watching as the twins turned to him with wide eyes and murderous looks.

“You what?!” Kitty screeched.

“Nothing!” Y/n seethed. “Hyde is just a little loopy from his head injury.”

“What? I don’t have a—”

He didn’t finish as he was wacked hard upside the head.

“Ow, Y/n!” Hyde grumbled, rubbing his head, but his smirk didn’t falter nor go unnoticed.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Y/n said and finished throwing away the trash. “I want to know why, out of all the guys in Point Place, why did he have to come knocking at my front door?”

“Come on, Y/n, whatever happened between you two was a while ago,” Donna said, carefully picking her words. “I don’t think he’s here to start anything.”

“I don’t know,” she responded. Her mind was reeling of the possibilities. “If Zack was a problem before, I can’t imagine what Connor is going to be.”

“Oh, Y/n, you’re being a little dramatic,” Kitty said and stood from the table with her bourbon in hand. “Connor isn’t going to do anything. You’re married now with twins on the way. I don’t think he’s going to try anything.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t ease my nerves,” she responded and grabbed a snack from the fridge.

“Don’t let one person ruin your day,” Kitty said exasperated. “You had a great day! You had a beautiful baby shower—thanks to me—and you got amazing gifts—also thanks to me—and now you have everything you need for these babies! Why would you want to let an ex ruin that?”

“I guess,” Y/n sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I just don’t have the time or energy to deal with another ex-problem. I want to focus on the babies and figuring out what I’m doing to do with my life.”

“You still haven’t figured it out?” Kitty asked, shocked.

“Well…no,” she admitted sheepishly. “I don’t know what I’m interested in.”

“Join the club,” Eric said.

“Well, figure it out, you two, because you won’t be living here for the rest of your lives.” She didn’t give them a chance to respond as she marched out the kitchen.

“Ugh,” Y/n grunted as plopped down at the table. “I’m exhausted.” A beat passed. “Steven, I’m hungry.”

He sighed and looked at her adoringly. “What do you want?”

She perked up. “A big fat cheeseburger with extra pickles and large fries. Oh, and a chocolate milkshake!”

“You got it,” he said and kissed her before grabbing his keys.

“Can you get me something?” Eric asked.

“No,” Hyde called over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

Eric turned back to his sister who was grinning. “Nice husband you got there.”

“I know,” she responded dreamily.

Suddenly, the door slid open revealing Connor and Red with Connor holding a chainsaw.

“Thanks, Mr. Forman. I know my mom is going to be really happy once my dad cuts off those noisy tree branches. She’ll finally be able to sleep at night now that the branches won’t be hitting her window.”

“You’re welcome. Just remember to bring it back,” Red said, smiling. “Tell Chuck I said hi and to give me a call. Maybe he’d like to grab a few beers and catch up.”

“I’ll let him know,” Connor chuckled innocently before he caught sight of Y/n. His eyes suddenly turned vulture like as if he was waiting for his prey to die. “I’ll see you later,” he purred.

A shiver ran down her spine, and not in a good way. “Ew.”

“Come on, sugar, don’t be like that.”

“Wow, okay, we have a lot to unpack here,” she stated and stood to her feet. “One: Don’t call me that. It’s gross, you’re gross. And second of all: I don’t know why you out of all people have to be here, but stay away from me, stay away from my friends, and stay away from my family. Specifically, my husband.”

“Trust me, sweets, I wasn’t planning on being anywhere near you.”

She squinted at him. “Good. I already had to deal with Zack, don’t make me deal with you, too.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about that,” he snickered. “You made him run away with his tail tucked between his legs. Real badass what you did there.”

“Don’t patronize me,” she spit. “I don’t need you bringing your crap into my life. There’s a reason why we didn’t move forward with our relationship.”

“You call what we had—or did—a relationship?” he sneered. Her eyes widened as he smirked at her. “Darling, I only hooked up with you because I needed a release.”

“You did WHAT?!” Red barked, making Y/n jump.

“This is it; this is how I die,” she whispered to Donna who was sitting behind her.

“You hooked up with your camp counselor?!” Red continued to shriek and turned to Connor. “You’re like two years older than her!”

“Hey, man, she wanted it just as much. She was hot on me like a moth to a flame.”

Y/n thought she was going to vomit right then and there.

“Connor, man, do you think this is smart to do with my dad and a chainsaw in the same room?” Eric muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’m going to kill you with my bare hands!” Red roared.

"Wow, okay, go straight to it," Eric murmured and got behind Y/n.

“And then I’m going to detach every single one of your limbs for fish bait and if that is able to bring me any use, then that is the most useful you’ve ever been in your entire life!” Red continued.

Connor chuckled as if he just didn’t receive a threat from Red who was very capable of following through. “Yeah, okay. Thanks for the chainsaw, man.”

“I don’t think so,” Red countered and ripped the chainsaw out of his hands. “You can get the hell out of my house.”

The smile on Connor’s face faded. “Fine.”

“Oh, and tell Chuck that he’s a son of a bitch and I never liked him.”

Connor didn’t respond, but turn on his heel and walk out. Once they heard the front door slam close, Red whipped to his daughter who was cowering away from him.

“What the hell was that about?” he demanded. “All that crap he was saying—he better be lying because I’m tired of hearing things about you that a father should never hear about his daughter.”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Y/n responded cooly, even though her heart was about to beat out of her chest.

“Okay, then tell me how it is, then,” Red challenged as he put the chainsaw down to cross his arms. “Tell me how it’s ‘not as bad as it sounds.’”

“We went out a couple times and kissed once,” she lied—sort of. “Nothing beyond that. He was just being a prick. And he told me he was the same age as me, so I didn’t think anything of it.”

Red stared at her for a moment, deciphering whether she was telling the truth or not. She held her breath while under his scrutinized glare.

Another beat passed. “Fine.”

Her gaze snapped to his. “Fine?”

“Fine,” he repeated. “At this point I don’t care if you’re lying to me. I’m just tired of your ex-boyfriends.”

“Believe me, so am I,” she grumbled and watched as Red walked out the kitchen. “I’m still not convinced that he’s gone for good.”

“He’s gone for now,” Donna said, attempting to soothe her best friend. “Try to relax.”

“Keyword is ‘try’,” she grumbled and allowed Donna to lead her back to the table. Putting her hands on Y/n’s shoulders, she guided her down into the chair.

“Look, you’re three months away from popping and any stress isn’t good for the babies. You need to find a way to destress. Decompress tonight and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. Okay?” Eric said, trying to comfort his sister.

Y/n’s face scrunched up in realization. “Isn’t that from my book?”

“Hey, I get bored. And I’m reader, I can’t help it.”

Y/n chuckled as Donna handed her a juice. “Thanks.”

“Okay, let’s forget about Connor,” Donna continued and sat next to her best friend. “What do you want to do?”

“Well…I could go for a movie,” she perked up.

Donna nodded. “Okay, sure. What movie do you wanna see?”

“I heard the new Rocky movie was good.”

“Nah, nah, nah, you wanna see Mad Max,” Eric intercepted. “Now that movie was badass!”

“Or,” Y/n continued, ignoring Eric. “I could go upstairs, get into my comfiest pjs and put on a movie and wait for Steven to bring me my food so I can go to bed early.”

“You’ve been sleeping a lot more lately,” Eric said, concerned.

“I’m busy incubating right now. Let me know how well it goes for you when you get pregnant.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he deadpanned.

“No, but I am tired and I just want to snuggle up with my husband.” She checked her watch. “Where is Steven with the food?”

“It’s only been a few minutes,” Eric said, cutting himself a slice a cake Kitty had made earlier in the day.

“This town ain’t that big,” Y/n countered. “I swear, if he’s not here in five minutes, I’m going to start eating you.”

Eric’s eyes widened.

“Hey, Doll,” Steven said, sliding the door open. “Sorry, it took so long. The line was—”

“Oh, thank God,” Eric cried out and grabbed Hyde’s shoulders and spun his body around so that Eric was using him as a human shield. “Y/n was about to start honing in to eat me.”

“What?” Hyde responded, barley stumbling back. “No, she wasn’t and—get off me, Forman!” He shrugged Eric off his shoulders.

“Is that mine?” Y/n asked, pointing to the white, greasy bag in her husband’s hand.

“Who else’s would it be?” he asked, teasing. “Here you go. And here’s that milkshake.”

“Thank you, baby,” she cooed and kissed him.

“Of course.” He looked around the kitchen, noticing Connor’s absence. “Where’s wannabe frat boy?”

“He left. He told my dad that we were a thing.”

“What?!”

“Yeah…”

“And the place is still standing?” he quipped.

“It wasn’t about to be,” Y/n chuckled and sat down to dig in.

“Yeah, sounds about right,” Hyde said and swiped one of her fries.

She smacked his hand away. “Hey! Get your own.”

--Time Skip—

“Hey, Honey, do you have the new The Knack album?” Y/n asked while browsed through the records at Groove’s.

“Yeah.” Hyde rounded the checkout counter and joined her at the crates of records. He flicked through a few before he pulled out and handed it to her. “One The Knack record for my pretty lady.”

“Forever the gentlemen,” she flirted and took it from his grip. She flipped it over to see the price. “Oh, Mr. Hyde I don’t have any money to pay for this.” She twirled a piece of hair around her finger. “Will you take any other form of payment?”

Steven looked at her with hooded eyes, smirking, and took a step closer to her, a hand resting on her hip. “I can think of one.”

She hummed. “Where can I give your payment?”

“The office is empty,” he purred and started kissing her jaw.

“Does it lock?” she breathed.

“I installed one for a reason.”

Y/n felt a moan creeping up in the back of her throat as she felt his lips brush against her sweet spot on her neck. “Are you busy?”

“I can take my break.”

“Really, you two? At work?” an annoyed voice piped up from behind them.

They spun around to see Angie standing there, holding a clipboard and a file.

“In the middle of the store, no less,” she continued. “Very professional, Steven.”

“You’re right,” Hyde said and grabbed Y/n’s hand. “We still have the office.”

He started to tug her towards the office when Angie stopped them.

“No! Don’t defile our office like that!” Angie argued. “I do our paperwork and eat my lunch in there!”

“Oh…you might want to find another place to eat now,” Y/n said sheepishly.

Angie’s eyes widened. “EW! What is wrong with you two?!”

Steven shrugged and wrapped an arm around Y/n's shoulders. “What can I say? We’re hot for each other.”

Angie scoffed. “Well, you can’t leave the floor anyway. You need to do inventory, remember?”

Hyde sighed in annoyance. “C’mon, man, we have until Friday to finish it.”

“Yeah, and it’s Tuesday and I’ve already done half of the work,” she argued. “I think having your wife here is distracting you.”

“Hey, ‘his wife’ has a name and you know that!” Y/n piped up.

“Honey, I’ve got this,” Steven said defensively. “My wife has a name, and you know that!”

“She just said that,” Angie said.

“I know,” he replied and shuffled his feet, straightening his back. “It sounds better coming from me.”

Y/n’s eyes rolled but couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face.

“Besides, she has every right to be here just as much as everyone else,” Hyde continued. “If you don’t want her here, then I’m not going to be here. You know what? That sounds like a good idea. C’mon, Y/n, let’s go—”

As he turned to walk out, Angie stopped them again. “You can’t go anywhere. You said you were going to lock up the store tonight.”

Steven stopped dead in his tracks and turned back around. “When did I say that?”

“Yesterday, when I asked you if you could lock up tonight because I have a date.”

Hyde thought back to the day before, trying to remember when he agreed to do it. It suddenly hit him when he had strolled in after “lunch” and was barley listening to her as he watched the patterns on the wall dance.

“In my opinion, I didn’t know what I was agreeing to,” he argued, and Angie rolled her eyes. “Besides, who do you have a date with?”

“No one in particular,” she said, the file suddenly becoming interesting.

“Angie…” he warned. “Are you going out with Kelso?”

“No,” she said, a little too loudly.

“Angie, you can’t go out with Kelso, man! Kelsos have a bad rep. Even the sign entering Point Place says that.”

“Yeah, he’s right,” Y/n said. “It literally says, ‘Don’t date Kelso.’”

Angie shook her head, rolling her eyes. “You guys have nothing to worry about. It’s just dinner.”

“Yeah, and you’re going to be dessert,” Y/n quipped, earning a dirty glare from her husband. “Look, if you don’t want to end up pregnant like the last chick, don’t—and I cannot stress this enough—date Kelso.”

“Well, then I can just join your club then,” Angie said snidely.

Y/n squinted at her sister-in-law, feeling insulted. “You know what? Let her get knocked up, I don’t care,” she said and walked away to sit down at the counter.

“C’mon, can you close up tonight?” Angie said. “Do you want me to beg?”

“Actually, yeah, I do.” Steven changed his stance, legs spread apart with his arms crossed. “Go ahead.”

She groaned. “Fine. Please?”

He scrunched his face. “No. You’re not going out with Kelso. I forbid it.”

He walked past her to join Y/n at the register.

“Forbid it?” Angie asked. “You can’t forbid me to do anything!”

“I don’t care, man. Kelso is bad news, and I won’t let him hurt you because that’s what he’ll do.”

“Awe, that’s so sweet that you’re looking out for me,” she cooed.

He leaned against the counter on his hands. “No, it’s not that. I don’t want to have Kelso officially related to me. I already can’t stand him as my friend.”

“Okay fine. I won’t go out with him,” Angie said, pouting. “But you’re still going to lock up for me tonight.”

“Fine.”

“But that’s not the reason why I came out here.” She handed him the folder in her hand. “I hired a new girl and she’s on her way right now to fill out the paperwork.”

“We were hiring?” he asked, flipping through the file. “What’s she like?”

“Well, her name is Mandy, she’s twenty and still in college. Very sweet, very smart, and very cute.”

“Oh, good to know. Didn’t even know we were hiring.”

“It’s only part time, but she’ll be a good addition to the store.”

“Uh, quick question,” Y/n piped up, holding up her hand. “Why didn’t you think to ask me? I’m not only here every other day, I know my way around the store.”

“Because when you go into labor, we’d have to find a temporary replacement and I don’t want to go through that trouble. It’s better to just have someone already lined up,” Angie responded. “Besides, having a pregnant lady here might turn off some customers.”

“Oh, well, thanks for your consideration,” Y/n muttered bitterly.

“She starts Monday. Make sure she fills out all the forms and has her driver’s license and social security card,” Angie directed.

“Do we really need all that stuff?” Hyde asked and tossed the folder on the counter beside him. “It’s just you and me, man. We don’t need a third person here.”

“Extra help won’t hurt,” she said. “Besides, she’ll really help out when you go on paternity leave.”

“Paternity leave? I’m only going to be gone a few days, maybe a week.”

“A week?!” Y/n interrupted. “I’m going to push two full grown babies out of a hole the size of a pea and you’re only going to be home for a week?!”

“Well, Y/n, I still have to bring home a paycheck,” he replied, turning to his wife. “You can’t buy diapers without me bringing home the dough.”

“Oh, come on, you know how Dad is,” Angie said. “We both know he’s going to pay you a little extra. You are making him a grandfather anyway.”

“I’m not going to assume that he’s going to pay me, Angie,” he said, opening the cash drawer to count it.

“Yeah, because he’s my hardworking man,” Y/n gushed and wrapped her arms around his middle, kissing his shoulder.

“Ugh, get a room,” Angie said, rolling her eyes.

“Well, we tried but you clam-jammed me,” Hyde said and snickered after Angie wrinkled her nose at him.

“Just…be nice to the girl when she comes in, will you?” Angie asked desperately and looked at Y/n. “And keep your hands to yourselves.”

“Oh, you mean like this?” Y/n grabbed her husband and smashed her mouth to his, roaming her hands all over his back, shoulders, and butt.

Steven went along and gripped her hips, returning the kiss.

“Uh…is there where I’m supposed to fill out paperwork?” a small voice piped up.

The couple pulled apart instantly. In front of the counter stood a petite girl with dark flowing hair and dazzling green eyes. She was skinny but had a natural big bust which was really pointed out by her sling bag strap resting between her breasts. Her face was round and innocent with a natural pink tint to it. Overall, she was absolutely gorgeous.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

Angie could feel her face heating up and blocked her of the PDA. “You must be Mandy,” she chuckled nervously.

“Is this how your employees interact with each other?” she asked with a hint of a smile.

“No!” Angie quickly defended. “They’re…they’re—uh—”

“Married,” Hyde finished for her. “And she’s not an employee. This is my wife, Y/n.”

“Hi, I’m Mandy,” she said, waving.

“I’m Steven Hyde, I’m the manager,” he said and shook her hand. “But you can call me Hyde.”

“So, you’ll be my boss?” she asked.

“Yes, and her too,” he pointed to Angie. “You’ll probably be dealing with her more than me, though.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding her head. “Sounds easy enough.”

“Trust me, man, it is,” he said, walking around the counter and hopped onto it, his legs dangling. “Just keep the store running and don’t let anyone steal anything and you’ll be golden.”

“Well, there’s more to that,” Angie corrected, giving Steven a look. “But that’s the gist of it.”

“Okay, sounds good,” she beamed. “Where should I sign the papers?”

“Here, I’ll take you into the office,” Hyde said and grabbed the folder then lead her into the office. He turned briefly to shoot Angie and Y/n a smirk before entering the room.

Once they disappeared, Y/n turned to Angie. “What the hell? You couldn’t hire someone else?”

She couldn’t even be bothered to look up from her clip board. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you couldn’t have hired someone old and ugly?!”

Angie finally looked up with a glint in her eye. “Do you have a problem with Mandy?”

“Do I have a problem?” Y/n repeated. “You purposely hired her to piss me off, didn’t you?”

Angie sighed, now annoyed. “What’re you talking about? I put a help wanted ad in the paper a few days ago and she answered it. I didn’t do anything on purpose.” She looked at Y/n who was busy glaring at the office door that was now closed.

“Why is that door closed?” she asked, pointing to it.

“For confidentially reasons,” Angie responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You know that office has other uses besides what you guys do. Anyways, what has gotten into y—?” A smirk then danced across her lips realizing what it was. “Are you jealous of Mandy?”

“What?” Y/n cried out. “Of course not!”

“Really? Because I think I’m starting to see some green poke through.”

“Angie, I’m not jealous of Mandy, okay?” Y/n said, a little weakly. “It’s just…I don’t like the way she looked at him.”

“She didn’t look at him in anyway—” Angie started, but then realized that it was a moot point. “Y/n…if you’re worried about if he’s going to try anything with her, he’s not.”

Y/n moved her attention to Angie who, for the first time, was talking to her like a normal human being and not just some annoyance. “I know, but…she’s his exact type from before.”

Angie popped out her hip and rested her fist on it. “How do you know she’s Steven’s type?”

“Well,” she stuttered and looked down at her hands that were resting on the counter. “She’s pretty and…and tall—”

“She’s not that tall.”

“Okay, but she also has a rack on her!”

Angie snickered and flicked her eyes down to Y/n’s swollen chest before looking back up. “Yeah, because hers are the problem.”

“And she’s older!”

“So?”

“She’s wiser! She’s in college!”

Angie hummed, thoroughly amused at this point. “Anything else?”

“She’s—”

“Skinny?” Angie interjected.

Y/n snapped her attention to her sister-in-law. “Are you enjoying this?!”

“Maybe a little bit,” she admitted and set the clipboard down. “Look, I don’t think you have anything to worry about with Steven. Steven is a lot of things, but a cheater ain’t one of them.”

“Yeah, I’ve said that before,” Y/n mumbled.

“With the way Steven looks at you, you’ll be fine,” Angie continued and started flicking through the vinyl’s and checking them off her check list.

“Yeah,” Y/n sighed. “It’s not him I’m worried about, though.”

--Time Skip—

“So, you think the new girl is going to go after Hyde?” Donna asked later that night as they hung out in her bedroom. An empty pizza box sat at their side along with two coke bottles and juice boxes as Donna painted Y/n’s toes a baby pink.

“I don’t know, I mean, she didn’t interested, but I don’t know what happened after they went into the office,” Elena sighed.

“C’mon, you don’t think Hyde would actually cheat, do you?”

Y/n shrugged. “No, but I can’t trust a girl won’t throw herself at him.”

Donna screwed the cover back on the nail polish and used a magazine to fan the polish dry. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I mean you remember what happened last time.”

“Exactly! I remember what happened last time and I don’t want a repeat of it! Remember Amber?”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen again,” Donna reassured.

“It was only six months ago, Donna!”

“Y/n, listen. Hyde has a lot to worry about then some girl coming onto him, alright?”

“You didn’t see her, Donna,” Y/n whined and got up carefully as to not ruin her nail polish. “She was really cute and not pregnant and older! She’s in college!”

“What?! No way!” Donna exaggerated, feigning shock.

“Yeah! She can easily have—you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” she laughed. “But you’re being a little ridiculous.”

“Am not!” Donna gave her a look and Y/n’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, maybe a little. I just don’t seem big chested college bimbo all over my husband.” Donna gave her another look. “What?! I’m pregnant and hormonal; don’t contradict me.”

--Time Skip—

“Hey, Y/n,” Steven said the next morning as he entered their bedroom. She sat on their bed against the headboard as she read her baby book. “We need to think about setting up the twins’ nursery. You got any ideas?”

“Mhm, not really,” she murmured.

He stood at the edge of the bed, staring at his wife. “Well, shouldn’t we go over it?”

She hummed and flipped the page. “Sure, if you want.”

Steven placed a hand on his hip and looked down at her frustrated. “Can you stop reading and look at me?”

A sigh escaped her as she looked up from her book, annoyed. “There, happy?”

“What’s gotten into you?”

She shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Bull,” he spit.

“I’m serious! I’m just reading.”

“You’re not usually annoyed when reading. Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

“Steven, I told you, it’s nothing.”

“And like I said, it’s bull.”

She stumbled her way off the bed and rubbed her forehead. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Must be pregnancy hormones. What do you have in mind?”

He scrunched his brows at her, but relaxed his features immediately as he decided to let it go. “Yep, well, that’s why I came to you.”

“You’ve always been better at this kind of thing than I am.”

“We can do Winnie the Pooh?”

“What—are our children wusses? No thanks.”

“Okay, what about green? Or blue?”

“What if they’re both girls?”

“Okay, then yellow?”

“Then we’re back to Winnie the Pooh!”

“Okay, then you pick!” she said, frustrated.

“I don’t know, doll,” he said and sat on the bed. “We just need to pick something out so that we can be ready.”

“I can pick up some magazines,” she sighed and sat next to him. “I’ll go today.”

“Well, we can start by rearranging the room,” he suggested, his tone lighter than before. “We do have a lot of crap in there.”

She smiled and rubbed her round belly. “Yeah, we can do that.”

“Good.” He turned to look at her and kissed her forehead.

“I’m sorry for being grumpy.”

“Yeah, well…you were.”

She laughed and threw a pillow at his face. Chuckling, he blocked it and leaned in, kissing her.

--Time Skip—

At lunch that day, the Formans and Hydes sat around the table, enjoying grilled cheese and tomato soup.

Y/n was on her third bowl as she wolfed down her sandwiches.

“Hey, Y/n, mind saving some for the rest of us?” Eric asked.

“Shut up,” she snapped with a mouthful of food. “These aren’t big enough.”

“You really are pregnant, are you?” he asked.

Y/n looked at him with a deadpanned expression. “What gave it away, genius?”

“Okay, no snapping at the table,” Kitty interrupted. “Y/n, Steven tells me you’re going to start decorating the nursery. That sounds like fun.”

“Yeah, we’re going to pick out color samples today,” she responded.

“Oh,” Kitty said, intrigued. “What colors were you thinking? You know, when I had you and Eric, I painted your room gender neutral colors. It was green and orange.”

“Yeah, it was horrendous,” Red commented off-handedly.

“Excuse me?!” Kitty asked. “You didn’t even help me! I was far along as Y/n is and you refused to help me!”

“I did not!” he argued. “Every time I would come in to help, you turned me away!”

“I did not!”

“You said I was messing it up and I couldn’t do it right!”

“Well, you weren’t!”

“And now you’re blaming me!”

“Okay—you know what?” Kitty said and scooted out of her chair and stormed out.

“We were just having a complete normal conversation and she still gets mad at me,” Red said exasperated.

--Time Skip—

Later that day, the gang, minus Donna, found themselves in the basement, hanging out.

“You did what to her?!” Y/n shouted at her brother.

“I swear it was an accident!” he shouted back.

“How do you accidentally almost break someone’s neck?” Hyde questioned.

“I didn’t almost break her neck!” Eric defended.

“She can barley move her neck, Forman,” Hyde said.

“Seriously, what in God’s name where you thinking?” Y/n demanded.

“I was already on page twelve!” he defended. “At that point I was a natural.”

“Oh, do you guys hear that?” Hyde mocked. “He read a book for ten minutes and is already a professional!”

“You know what? I already feel bad enough as it is,” Eric said, pouting. “You guys aren’t helping.”

“Well, we’re not here to pat your back,” Jackie piped up.

“Eric, I know I haven’t been here long enough, and please don’t take offense when I say this, but how is Donna still with you?” Markus asked.

“Funny you say that, I was just going to ask the same about Jackie,” Eric quipped.

Markus pursed his lips and nodded. “At least I didn’t almost break her neck.”

“Can’t say the same for her back though,” Kelso smirked.

Everyone stared at him in disgust.

“What?! We can joke about Hyde and Y/n’s sex life, but not Jackie and Markus’s!?” he defended.

“No, you see, we make fun of our sex life,” Hyde said, pointing to him and Y/n. “We mainly do it to freak out Forman. But you bringing up someone else’s is just plain creepy, man.”

“So, Fez, Kelso, have you guys found an apartment yet?” Y/n asked, clearing her throat in discomfort.

“Yeah, Red convinced Fenton to give us the apartment,” Kelso said, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“Yeah, and Red seemed so happy, he was laughing the whole ride home,” Fez said with a smile.

Kelso laughed dumbly. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure that Red told Fenton that we knew a lot of chicks. 'Cause Fenton kept checking me out, like he could tell that I knew a lot of chicks.”

At that moment, the basement door swung open, revealing Bob and Donna, whose head was still stuck to the side.

“Eric, I can’t believe you crippled my angel! My pride and joy!” Bob cried out. “It’s killing me to see her like this.”

Eric’s eyebrows furrowed. “Well, then why are you bringing her here then?”

“Oh, I have a date,” Bob said, any sign of distraught gone. “Met a lady at the open house. She's got crow's feet, but she works in a sandwich shop, so I bent the rules. See you, Kitten.” He walked out the basement leaving Donna to her boyfriend and friends.

“Look, Donna, I just want to apologize again,” Eric said, eyes following her as she moved to sit down next to him. “You know, I've been thinking about it, and I don't think I ever really wanted to be a chiropractor. I was just, you know, grasping at straws.”

Donna turned her body to look at him. “You know I’d nod in agreement, but I’m paralyzed.”

“Eric, you know what I’m realizing about you? You’re not good at anything,” Kelso said, smiling at his friend’s misfortune.

“That’s not true,” Fez spoke up. “Don’t forget butt wiping.”

“What?” Y/n asked, confused.

“Don’t ask, it was a circle thing,” Hyde whispered to her.

Eric clicked his tongue in offense. “Oh, you know what? You guys suck. Whenever you're in trouble, I don't burn you. I mean, usually 'cause it's hard for me to think of things right on the spot, but also 'cause, you know, I try to help.”

“That's actually true. I mean, Fez, remember when you wanted to learn how to kiss, and Eric taught you by sticking m&m's to the mirror?” Donna said.

Everyone turned to Fez with amused grins and raised eyebrows.

“What?” Fez asked, sweat beads forming on his brow. “That never happened. I know how to kiss. Oh, shut it, Donna.”

“Yeah, and, Kelso, how about that time I stayed up with you all night to study for that math final. I mean, sure, nothing stuck, but, you know, I blame nature for that,” Eric continued.

“You know Forman, if you can teach Fez how to kiss and Kelso how to do math, you can probably teach anybody anything. Why don't you just become a teacher?” Hyde suggested.

“Hey, Eric, that’s a great idea!” Y/n said, excitedly. “Remember when you taught me to drive? You were so patient and didn’t give up even when I kept hitting the curbs.”

“You still do,” Hyde mumbled.

“What?” Y/n snapped.

“What?” Hyde repeated.

“I’m not a driver!” she defended.

“No offense, Y/n, but I’m afraid for you children when they’re in the car with you,” Kelso said. Y/n grabbed the nearest object by her, which was a tennis ball, and threw it at him. “OW! I said no offense!”

“Shut up, Kelso!” Y/n yelled.

“You know, that makes a lot of sense,” Donna said. “I mean, you have all this knowledge about stuff you have no ability to do.”

Eric thought about it for a minute before his face brightened. “A teacher? Well, I do like helping people. I mean, I'd love to help kids. Yeah. Like, ‘Mr. Forman.’ That just feels really great. Yeah, a teacher. That just feels so... right.”

“That’s it. Forman’s going to be a teacher!” Hyde announced. “This calls for a toast!”

They all grabbed a beer except for Y/n, who sat there pouting.

“Sorry, Y/n,” Hyde shrugged. “To Forman!”

“To Forman!” Everyone cheered.

--Time Skip-- “You sure you want these colors?” Hyde asked Y/n as they stood at the painting store. “Because you know once we paint the walls, we’re not changing it.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she chirped. “It’s going to be so pretty.”

“Cool. It’s going to be cool,” he corrected. “But, okay.”

Y/n beamed as they bought two cans of paint.

The Next Day…

The doorbell to the Forman house rang in the late morning. Red got up from the den from shining his shoes. When he opened the door, Connor and his father stood there.

Red squared his shoulders and straightened his back. “Connor, Chuck.”

“Hey, Red,” Chuck said, frowning. “I heard you threatened my boy yesterday.”

“Yeah, I did," Red answered honestly. “What about it?”

“I don’t appreciate the way you talked to him.”

“Well, that’s a damn shame,” Red responded dryly. “Is that all?”

“No!” Chuck yelled, causing Red to raise his eyebrows at him. “You apologize to him right now!”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Red.”

“Okay, you want me to apologize? Fine. I’m sorry that your son is a piece of no-good, smug piece of crap who takes advantage of young girls!” he roared. “And I am so sorry that I wasted my time being nice to either of you!”

“Now, you listen here, Forman—” Chuck started, but was cut off.

“I don’t know where you got this entitlement, Chuck, but you certainly didn’t get this from serving with me during Korea. And for you to come here, to my house, demanding that I apologize to you and your kid for the way he treated me daughter than you are out of mind because I ain’t do nothing for you or human garbage of a son. He’s lucky I don’t press charges against him!”

“This isn’t about your loose daughter, Red,” Chuck said. “This is about how you spoke to my boy.”

Red’s face distorted into a look that Chuck hadn’t seen the war. “What the hell did you just say about my daughter?!”

“Oh, come on, don’t be dumb,” Chuck continued. “I know you, Red, and you are so far from it. She probably had it coming. I mean, you probably heard all the stories about her. And giving her current situation, I can’t believe you’d be this blind.”

Connor stood there at the door with a smug look knowing they were getting under Red’s skin.

“Get the hell off my property before I do to you what I did to the Koreans!” Red threatened, his body shaking from anger.

“No, not until we get our apology!” Chuck demanded.

“I’ll tell you what. You get to walk out of here alive, how bout that?”

Chuck straightened his body, matching Red’s energy. “You don’t want to mess with me, Forman. You remember me during the war.”

“Yeah?” Red challenged. “Why don’t you remind me?”

Meanwhile…

Up in the nursery, Kitty, Y/n, and Steven were painting the walls, revealing it to be a beautiful light green. “You kids picked a lovely color,” Kitty complimented. “It doesn’t matter if you have boys or girls, it’s going to match either way.”

“Thank you, Mom,” Y/n responded as she rolled paint onto the wall. “And thank you for letting us paint the room. It means a lot.”

“Of course, dear. I’m just so excited to meet my grandbabies!”

Hyde got down from the latter with his white shirt covered in paint and wiped some sweat off his brow. “You know, Y/n, I don’t know if I feel comfortable with you being this close and huffing in these chemicals.”

“I’m fine, Steven.”

“I don’t know. I think maybe you should let me do the painting and then you can help with everything else once I’m done.”

“Steven, I can help!”

“Okay, well, while you two decide on that, I’m going to go get some lemonade,” Kitty announced and made her way to the door, opening it. “Does that sound—”

A yelp and the sound of something heavy thumping to the floor cut Kitty off mid sentence. “What was that?”

She didn’t wait for an answer as she and the Hydes rushed to the top of the stairs before seeing Red standing at the door, screaming.

“You want to be next?!” Silence. “Then get the hell out of here! And I better never see you two sorry asses ever again! Do I make myself clear?!”

The three stumbled their way halfway down the stairs to see what was going on. Connor was staring down at his unconscious dad with a wild and angry look in his eyes. Before he let him answer, Red slammed the front door and examined his knuckles that were bleeding. As he made his way back to the kitchen, he finally looked up to his family who was staring back at him in shock.

“Oh, hey. You—uh—may want to call an ambulance,” was all he said as he walked into the kitchen to tend to his hand.

“Red, honey?” Kitty called after him. “Red, what happened?”

“Nothing,” he responded as he made his through the kitchen and over to the sink.

The three of them followed him and saw him running cold water on his hand.

“Well, that doesn’t look like nothing!” Kitty shrieked and scrambled to get the first aid kit.

“I learned today that Chuck is just as big of a prick as his son,” Red grumbled, not daring to meet everyone’s eyes.

“Daddy…did you punch Connor’s dad?” Y/n asked.

“I did what I had to do, sweetheart,” he responded and looked at his daughter with soft eyes and smiled. “All I gotta say is, I don’t think you have to worry about that boy anymore.”

Y/n swore she could cry right there, but instead walked over and wrapped her arms around his middle. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Of course, pumpkin.” He turned the water off and grabbed the towel that was laying on the counter beside him. “Just do me a favor and don’t let any other ex-boyfriends come back to the house, yeah?”

Y/n chuckled. “I’ll try my damn hardest.”

Hyde looked over to Kitty who didn’t look happy or impressed at all. “Come on, Doll, let’s leave your parents alone and go upstairs,” he said quietly and guided his wife through the kitchen.

A beat of silence passed before Kitty spoke up. “What on earth were you thinking?” Kitty started. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”

“I’m sorry, Kitty. He started saying some horrible things about Y/n and I lost it,” he explained. “I’ll tell you what, though, he’s going to need a good dentist. There’s no way he’s going to be able to put his teeth back to normal.”

“Well, in that case,” said and pointed to the table. “Sit. I need to make sure you don’t get an infection.”

It was quiet between them as she started tending to his knuckles. “Gosh, you haven’t done this since we started dating and Frankie Wallace was making passes at me during the military ball.”

“Well, what can I say? I gotta protect what’s mine.”

Her eyes glanced up to meet her husband’s before going back down to his hand. “That’s very sweet, but I think what you did was stupid.”

“What’s stupid was challenging me in my own house about my daughter. It’s not like I didn’t warn him beforehand.”

“We already don’t have a lot of friends, now we’re really not going to,” she scolded. “Red, we’ve become that house!”

“Good! Maybe those dumbasses will finally get the message! I don’t like it when my family gets threatened!”

Kitty finished up wrapped his knuckles and started putting things away. “Well, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, honey, I promise.”

Kitty’s demeanor changed as she scooted closer to him. “Well, I got to make sure that my big, strong, hunk of a protector is okay. Wouldn’t want him getting hurt or anything.”

Red’s looked down at Kitty, eyes hooded. “That’s my job.”

“So, Handsome, what’re you doing later?”

Red chuckled and leaned over, kissing his wife. “That.”

They looked at each other for moment before they scurried off upstairs.

A Few Minutes Later…

“Steven, honey, I’m fine!” Y/n argued. “I don’t want you to worry about me! I’m fine!”

“I’m not worried about you,” he said back. “I’m worried about the babies.”

“Quit treating me like I’m fragile!”

“You kind of are! Until my kids come out of you, it’s my job to make sure you or the babies don’t get hurt!”

“And that’s really sweet, but—” she was cut off by the sound of springs squeaking. “What is that?”

Hyde furrowed his brows in concentration as he listened. “Well, I did see your parents run into their room not long ago.” The realization finally hit them both. “Ugh, not again!”

Y/n turned to her parents door. “Oh, come on! Other people live here!”

Taglist: @not-shy-nanya @taysirene @maddieschampagneproblems @mdittyz123 @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-004 @lieswithoutfairytales @chloem4a1 @srhxpc @zhonglibxitch @leothesquishy

#that 70s show fanfic #that 70s show #steven hyde #steven hyde x reader #eric forman #donna pinciotti #that 70's show fanfic #jackie burkhart #that '70s show #michael kelso x reader #i just love when fez sings this because it's so cute haha #fez x kelso #fez x jackie #fez that 70s show #fez #red forman #kitty forman #red and kitty forman #fanfic

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