#look at this stinky zombie

[primarytriopropaganda]

This was a collab between Taxi and I (Cinn). Taxi did the sketch and I did the lineless art c: -Cinn

[sunnysunmedia]

Do you think the shrooms on her head would be tasty? 🍄💚✨

My second Deco27 Miku! Love the song so much such a banger💕

[mechanicalinfection]

So pancake satan, am I right??

[queenimmadolla]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

previous — next part ┊ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( + playlist)

Summary: You learn the identity of your new undead friend, get a mini ‘makeover’, catch your crush’s attention and bury a body while Eddie learns throwing up on the girl he’s interested in probably doesn’t display his potential as a boyfriend, but his protective nature might.

Chapter Warnings: a stinky boy, dark humor, unpleasant home life, intense longing (on eddie’s behalf). oh yeah, and murder.

a/n: so i lied, this is actually longer than the first chapter and i accepted my fate. we’re getting to the fun stuff, though. next up: more vigilante justice, eddie lore and emerging feelings for a certain dead man walking. hope you like it!

light dividers ℗ cafekitsune ♡

“C’mon, over here.” You gestured to your open doorway, watching your new zombie pal hobble up the final step and round the staircase. His movements were harsh, stiff as hell and made your bones hurt to watch for whatever reason. Every over limp was accompanied by an inhuman grunt, and you wondered if moving his limbs might actually be painful for him.

  You were never particularly skilled in the art of masking your emotions, so your eyebrows were furrowed, mouth parted and upper lip tucked up to clearly display your phantom discomfort. 

  Once he was close enough, you crossed over the threshold, standing a little in front of your bed as he wandered in, large eyes immediately raking over everything on your walls. After beckoning him further in, you moved around the filthy corpse standing in your room to close the door. 

  “Despite your deadly good looks, we can’t risk anyone seeing you. No one else can know you’re here.” You informed him, trying to stress the seriousness of the situation without seeming too controlling. While you had waited for The Zombie to struggle up the stairs, you’d determined there were three possible ways this town would react to discovering a member of the dead had risen—that only seemed to be socially acceptable and celebrated in the form of Jesus Christ:

 1.) Pitchforks and Torches.

2.) News, Military, and Government attention, which would no doubt mean you’d have to break him out of some lab.

3.) Pitchforks and Torches, News, Military, and Government attention, which would mean you’d have to save him from an angry mob before inevitably losing him once News stations picked the story up, causing subsequent Military and Government interference and the scientific study of your undead friend in some high tech/high defense lab, leaving you to figure out how to break into and get him out of it. 

  Or, he could just not leave your bedroom. A beautiful alternative.

  The Zombie didn’t even pay you any attention, stumbling forward—and banging his foot against the leg of your bed frame—to take a better look at your things. He was grunting and groaning, though this time it seemed to be a little different. It almost sounded like he was talking to himself. Or maybe to you. 

  Zombies in film seemed to be able to voice their demands for brains. Could he? Did he have the same urge or need to eat brains? How would you even feed a zombie?

  “Can you talk?” You asked, leaning back against the door, eyes on him as he had to hop in place in order to turn his body to face you, “Like, speak? With words?”

  He seemed to consider your question for a moment, eyes darting to the side.

  “Uuuuuuunnnggghhh.”

  “So, that’s a no. Do you…do you need brains? Because I’m not sure I can get you any of those—and if you think for one second that you’re gonna eat mine, you should know I fall under fight when it comes to fight or flight responses. I’m like an alley cat, I’ll fuck you up.”

  The Zombie stumbled back, rocking from side to side. It took you a moment to realize he was trying to shake his head, no.

  Interesting.

  “No brains?”

  Again, he rocked from side to side, “Uunggh-uunghh.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Your defenses dropped immediately as you played with your hair, pulling gently at a section of it, “Well, what do you eat?”

  He did the choppy shoulder raise he’d done in the livingroom earlier, “Unnhh unnhh.” 

  Your lips curled into a small, fascinated smile. Okay, you knew he had been once alive, once a human being existing on this earth with blood pulsing through his veins—and now he was dead.

  Yet, he wasn’t dead. He was dead but standing in your bedroom, amongst your girly things and not so girly things, staring at you in his grotesque form, and shrugging I dunno, like some alive person. A full blown, supernatural one-time (to your knowledge) occurrence only depicted in Sci-fi films and horrors.

  Why you? What did he want with you?

  You hadn’t realized you’d voiced the question until he hobbled back around to your bedroom wall, raising his left hand, and the only one he seemed to have, up to one of the tombstone etchings. His fingers were all sorts of fucked up, frozen in the most uncomfortable looking positions as a result of rigor mortis in whatever position he’d died.

  “What? That? It’s just an etching I made of a tombstone.”

  He craned his head around, and you tried not to be freaked out with the way his neck hadn’t turned enough with it, tapping his crooked pinky finger against the craft paper and then moved it to his chest.

  Your eyes zeroed in on the etching, trying to understand what he was attempting to tell you. 

  It was MUN’s tombstone—no, Eddie Munson’s tombstone.

  Your jaw dropped. Had to be somewhere around your feet, on the floor. Holy. Shit.

  “That’s you? You’re Eddie Munson?” It was rude, but you openly pointed at him.

  He didn’t grunt in response this time, rather, he began to cough and gag as he jerked his body around to get his hand in his dirty jeans. 

  While he did whatever it was, you took the time to take him in even further. He wore black jeans, but under his leather jacket he seemed to be wearing a discolored dress shirt that had once probably been white. You had a feeling the sneakers on his feet, while horrendously dirty, weren’t all that worn out. Dress pants were pricey, you knew that much after buying some for your father when your mother would take you to outlets and malls with her. Dress shirts were a little cheaper and new shoes were seen as a staple in big events for peoples’ lives, such as graduations, birthdays, dances, weddings and funerals. 

  You had a sneaking suspicion this lively carcass hadn’t been from this part of town when he was alive. 

  “UUUUUUNNNNGGGHHHH!” The Zombie moaned out, almost victoriously as his stiff arm stuck straight up in the air. Dangling from his curled fingers, was your mother’s pearl necklace. You’d seen it last when you’d entrusted MUN with it yesterday.

  You gasped, reaching out as he lowered it into your furled palm. 

  With the proof in your hand and his corpse before you, you knew you were speaking to Eddie Munson. He was, without a doubt, the grave you’d been running to.

  “Holy crap, you are Eddie Munson!” You gripped the pearls in your fist, eyes wide and blinking rapidly to try to make sense of it all, “You were murdered and now you’re not—I mean, you were, but you’re back from the dead, standing in my—ooh, standing pretty close actually.”

  You tried not to flinch as you became aware of just how close he’d stumbled over to you. Definitely within arms-length. He didn’t exactly stink, his flesh looked much too leathery to actually smell (you weren’t about to lean in and sniff to test the theory), but the scent of wet dirt was strong and the smell of whatever he’d spat on you earlier seemed to be lingering. 

  Zombie Eddie was in desperate need of a shower.

  “So, this is all pretty cool and bizarre—I’m a fan of both—but uhm, why are you here…? Like, in my house.”

  He slouched even further into your space, this time you did flinch a little as the most muffled whimper sounded from him. Reminded you of the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz when he couldn’t speak properly because he was all rusted up. 

  Eddie held eye contact as he struggled to grab hold of your hand and the minute he did, dirt from his skin pressing into yours, you knew what was coming.

  Because of course it would. This is something that would only happen to you.

  Shakily, Eddie tried lifting your hand and your mouth puckered, brows furrowing before you sucked your lips into your mouth as you watched him prepare to kiss your hand with his filthy, dead, dried out lips that still had bits of that green goop he’d spat up around it.

  You were a nice person—a relatively decent human being, but you weren’t that nice and you didn’t wanna have to go to the hospital on the off chance that you caught something from a corpse. Explaining that one would send you straight to the psych ward and probably end in some sort of abuse of a corpse charge, so you quickly pulled your hand out of his grasp, rubbing your fingers together to roll some of the dirt off of them.

  “Okay, okay, I see, mhm—alright. You’re here because—when I said I wished I was with you, I didn’t mean like, I wanted to have your dead body…y’know, pressed up against mine. I meant like…in the grave. Next to you. Like buried there because I’d be dead. It was a moment of intense angst—I’m nineteen and my life is in the fucking gutter. I’m surrounded by terrible people in this town and I have the rest of my life to live out this way.

  “I didn’t mean to lead you on or something, and I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to do literally anything with a corpse, other than bury it.”

  The two of you stood there, just staring at each other. He still hadn’t moved out of your space and you were still kind of leaning back, away from him, so you added, “So. Just a little recap, I wanted to be dead. Did not mean I wanted to be with you. Romantically. Together. Like a couple.”

  And then you felt a little guilty because that wasn’t entirely true.

  “Well, not with you as a cadaver.” Because you had fantasized about the person in the grave being a source of comfort to you, “Or—or, you in general. ‘Cause…’cause I didn’t know it was you given how fucked up your shit was, and I didn’t know you when you were alive.”

  God, you were messing this up. Rather than continuing your ongoing word vomit, you flashed him a tight smile.

  Finally, you got a reaction out of him. He creaked back, those little whimpering sounds coming from his lips before that same nasty ass green shit from before started leaking out from behind his eyeballs.

  You’d made him cry.

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—I just moved here a couple of months ago and you were already dead by then! I’m sure you were a lovely person and I would have liked y—y—yo—ECH!”

  You gagged, hand flying up to cover your mouth and nose as you felt the contents of your stomach start to make its way back up. While your hand was in that position, it squeezed the tip of your nose, cutting of the assault currently taking place against it.

  Whatever it was Zombie Eddie was secreting instead of his tears, stunk. It was the most putrid scent you’d ever had the misfortune of knowing. Nothing could compare to it, not literal shit, not vomit, not pasta that had been left out to cook in the sun for several weeks, nothing.

  You were sure one more sniff of it, and your nostril hairs would either shrink and curl up, or disintegrate. 

  “MOTHER OF GOD—your tears smell horrendous—I’m gonna throw u—ECH!”

  You gagged again, tears flooding your sight and you hurried over to the bathroom, gesturing for him to follow behind you.

  Chrissy had left her door to the bathroom open, so you skidded across the tile to shove it closed, desperate to make sure the scent didn’t reach the room and wouldn’t linger in there.

  She’d drive you straight to the ER to get checked out, because nothing you could possibly shit out should ever and would ever smell that bad.

  You yanked the shower curtain back from the tub, setting Chrissy’s products to the side and out of the way, “You need to bathe like two years ago, my dead guy.”

  You stepped to the side, pointing into the tub with a finger as your other hand rested on your hip like you were ordering a misbehaving child in.

  Eddie groaned, and you got the feeling that he was unimpressed with your theatrics. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t been dramatic about it. His stank tears had to be an actual biohazard and you didn’t want to think about the fact that very same biohazard had been projectile vomited onto your face a couple of minutes ago. You were so gonna scrub it raw.

  Begrudgingly, he hobbled over to your tub and struggled over the edge until he was in—his upper half slamming into the tile wall. 

  You didn’t say anything about him being fully clothed, shoes and all, because everything he wore needed a good rinse off. If not, you’d have to hose his clothes down in the yard before subjecting the dryer and washer to them.

  “There’s my soap.” You pointed out the pink bottle of pomegranate and berry scented shower gel, “And my shampoo and conditioner—those two are very expensive and a little goes a long way, so don’t waste any.”

  You eyed him for a moment, mouth twisting in consideration, “Nevermind, it’ll take half the bottles to get your hair clean, I’ll just have to replace them a little earlier than my budget expected.”

  This time, Eddie’s mouth parted rather wide as he moaned out, “UHNNNGGHH.”

  He was probably telling you to fuck off already, but you were distracted by whatever insect was currently in his mouth, on his tongue.

  “SPIT IT OUT!” You shrieked, and he aimed his head down, the large thing with too many legs falling right out to crawl around on your bathroom floor.

  You screamed as you began to stomp around, trying to crush it beneath your remaining slipper but it kept evading it! Finally, your foot flattened it with a satisfying crunch.

  The evil had been defeated. You were nearly panting, shoulders rising and falling as you calmed your breathing and another sound registered.

  Eddie was croaking now, it sounded almost like the most painful gasps someone would let out on their deathbed. You stared, puzzled for a moment before it dawned on you.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  He did it again, stiff body leaning completely back on the shower tiles now.

  “Oh my god, you are! YOU DICK!” You slapped the side of his arm and then quickly yanked it back, frowning at the mud now caked to the back of your fingers. 

  “Ugh,” you tried to shake some of it off over the tub, your head shaking as well—and despite the predicament, you found the corners of your lips twitching but you refused to smile. Wouldn’t let him get that over you, “You’re gross. That better be the last living creature to come out of you, you Zombie Headbanger, take a shower.”

  You didn’t give him a chance to moan, groan or croak at you again, yanking the curtains back to shield the tub and it’s undead occupant.

  You rolled your eyes, almost fondly, and gathered too much toilet paper to wipe up the remnants of the bug and toss it in the trash. Should’ve been in a different corpse’s mouth if it wanted to live.

  “You know how to work a shower, don’t you?” You asked aloud as you approached your bathroom counter, taking notice of the bathroom mirror as you uncapped a room spray and gave your bathroom a good burst of it. The mirror had already been replaced, looked like Laura couldn’t stand to know there was something imperfect in the house—aside from you. 

  You heard the tub start to run before the shower stream took over. At least he still remembered that much.

  “You wanna listen to some music?” You asked over the loud stream of the shower.

  “Uunngh.”

  You took that as a yes and leaned over the counter to tweak the knob of the radio you and Chrissy always left on it. Immediately, a country station started playing and you quickly switched the station.

  “That’s not one of mine! Chrissy listens to Country whenever she misses her ex-boyfriend, I don’t know why.”

  You kept twisting the dial through various stations. When you hit a station midway through Disposable Heroes, you turned the knob again only for your companion to voice his outrage.

  “UUUUUUNNNGGHHHH!!!”

  “What?” You switched the station back, “You like Metallica?”

  He grunted from behind the shower curtain, and the scent of your body wash began to fill the bathroom, much to your relief. You could hear him banging around in there, probably not the easiest to wash up with a bad case of rigor mortis.

  “They’re alright, I liked Ride the Lightning, but Master of Puppets is good, too. Their last album was good, too, but it felt kind of different. Not the same without Burton.”

  Eddie made a sound of confusion, hand with the fucked up fingers reaching out to push the curtain back so he could poke his head out.

  You met his gaze through the mirror, “You don’t know?”

  He just blinked, almost owlishly. 

  Shit. He must have died before the fall of ‘86. You’d have to ask Chrissy when exactly Eddie had died.

  “The bass player, Cliff Burton? He died in ‘86. Bus accident.”

  You watched as Eddie’s gaze dropped, and the groan he let out sounded remarkably sad as he ducked back behind the curtain.

  Unsure of what to say to make him feel better, you let the radio play out the rest of the duration of Eddie’s shower and took diligent care in washing your face and brushing your teeth. Once he was done, smelling amazing and just like you, you’d had him shed his clothes for one of your nightgowns and dragged him back to your closet.

  You knew he was quite literally stiff, but he seemed extra unenthused with his choice of ensemble, so you were going to let him choose his own.

  “Alright, take your pick.” You yanked the doors of your walk-in closet (as in you could take three steps in and that's it) open and he flinched back at the amount of pink seeping out of it. When he made no move to look through his options, you selected one for him.

  An even gaudier nightgown you tried to shove in his arms. And he let you, before purposely dropping it to the ground while holding eye contact. 

  “Well, I thought you would have looked great in it.” You mumbled as he creaked down to pick it up for you. When Eddie hobbled into the closet to hang it up, you shut the doors behind him, “Pick something else and then you can come out!”

  Your closet doors didn’t lock though, so you were just banking on him assuming they did and you heard his offended zombie groaning. While you waited, listening to him no doubt bang into the walls as he struggled to dress himself, grunting and groaning, you twirled around on your desk chair.

  Eventually, the closet doors parted and you gasped at the sight of him, standing there in your lavender fluffy, oversized sweater and pair of white pajama pants with hearts all over them. He couldn’t really move his face all that much, not very expressive and yet you could somehow tell he was scowling.

  “You look like Grimace.” Was all you said, mind conjuring up Ronald McDonald’s purple monster friend.

  The closet doors were promptly slammed shut. When he emerged once more, gone was the former ensemble. Eddie was wearing a neon green skirt, a tight off the shoulder black top, and nothing else.

  You wolf whistled at his skinny, severely discolored legs.

  He stuck one out, modeling it for you and you realized he was humoring you. You laughed, eyes crinkling.

  “You tryna knock me dead, too?”

  When he nodded, you laughed again and stood up to rummage through your dresser. You found a band tee you used as a pajama top, and some black pants that looked like they might fit him. Then you spotted a red plaid flannel you had hanging on your bedroom door, waiting to be placed in the closet.

  The clothing items were shoved into his arms and you pushed him back into the closet.

  When he came out (eheheheh) again, you were practically bouncing in your seat. You’d never seen Eddie alive before, had never seen him in clothes that weren’t his burial ones, and he definitely still looked as much of a Zombie as Michael Jackson had looked in the Thriller music video, but he also looked like a young adult, and very much so in his Metal element. He was stretching your baby blue socks to their limit, but they’d have to do until you could steal some from your dad. You’d scrub his shoes tomorrow, before class.

  If Eddie were alive, he’d look…hot.

  You smiled to yourself, still taking him in as you realized you were looking at Eddie Munson.

  To show your admiration, you clapped for him, “That’ll do real well. What do you think?”

  Eddie raised his forearm and you tilted your head, confused. He followed your gaze and groaned, rolling his eyes as he realized that was the arm lacking a hand. Then, he held up his other arm, painful looking thumb finger cracking and popping until he was giving you a thumbs up. You ended up tying a scarf around the wrist without a hand, just to hide the gaping wound. 

  With the matter of his clothing solved, you moved onto his hair, sitting on the bathroom counter while he stood in front of you as you worked on detangling with a spray bottle and a legion of hair products. It took some TLC, and ignoring the hole where his ear should’ve been, but you brought his curls back to life. You were shocked to even see he had bangs, they’d been plastered to the top of his head when he was the Swamp Thing.

  They framed his eyes, looked real good on him and he seemed to enjoy the entire process, eyes slipping shut and little moans (not like that) coming from him.

  “Well, I think we’ve got you back in good shape.” You put down the comb, placing your hand on his shoulders to turn him towards the mirror, “Is this Eddie Munson?”

  You watched his gaze scan his reflection, before those eyes were on yours in the mirror. 

  “Unnnghhh.” Eddie held up his arm with the missing appendage and you nervously scratched the back of your heard.

  “Well, you see, I don’t really have any extra hands on me, at the moment. Just down to these two,” You emphasized the sentence with some jazz hands to display yours, then immediately felt guilty over still having yours so you hid them behind your back.

  Eddie groaned low, lifting his wrist to the side of his head, where his ear should have been and you made a displeased sound. 

  “Oh. Noticed that, did you?”

  His eyes narrowed and even though you had no idea what Eddie had sounded like, you could still hear him in your head, Notice my fucking ear is missing? Yeah, I did.

  “I don’t have any extras of those, either. If it’s a body part, I’m out of stock. But—who cares? Plenty of people live without them.”

  Eddie grunted, eyes narrowing even further at you.

  You winced, “Poor choice of words—the point is, no one will even notice. Because no one is going to see you.”

  Eddie’s next grunt sounded disappointed and you felt even guiltier. What were you supposed to do? You’d already made him look as relatively normal as you could, there was only so many ways you could disguise a zombie who walked oddly, communicated via moan, groan and grunt, and looked like he had a medical skin condition.

  You were about to try to comfort him when you heard the front door open and you gasped.

  “WHAT IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN?” You heard Laura cry out, and your dad shouted your name. 

  “I don’t mean to sound homophobic, but back in the closet!” You shoved him out of the bathroom and in the direction of his new hiding place. He hadn’t looked very keen as you shut the closet doors on him, but he’d have to wait for now.

  Your dad was probably having one hell of a heart attack, staring at the mess of the house, the broken window, fearful a similar situation as your mother’s assault had taken place with you as the victim.

  “I’m alright, daddy!” You reassured as you raced down the stairs to your concerned father. He was concerned alright, but not about you.

  He had Laura in one arm, who was openly distraught about the shards of her damn plates, and Chrissy, who was staring at the mess with open confusion, in the other.

  “You,” Laura spat at you with venom the moment her chilling gaze locked onto your approaching figure, “What. Did. You. Do?”

  Wow. You’d seen an actual Zombie—he was upstairs, in your bedroom closet—and still the most unbelievable thing to happen to you was your ‘family’’s ability to immediately blame you. You hadn’t expected Eddie’s corpse to be the first suspect in their head, still, they’d seen your house ransacked—as you tried to escape your friendly deceased headbanger—with you nowhere in sight, and hadn’t been at all concerned for your wellbeing. God, they sucked.

  “Me?! I didn’t do this!”

  “Then who did!?” Laura screeched back and you found yourself getting angry.

  “The guy who broke in!” You shouted back and Laura immediately rolled her eyes. You could hear your dad say both of your names to calm you down, but you were growing tired of him, too. Like Eddie, he seemed to be missing parts of his body. Noticeably, his goddamn spine.

  “Really? You expect us to believe that after last night? The smashing of the mirror, my precious moments figurines? Muffin, your daughter is out of control. She destroyed my house!”

  “Do you ever use those creepy eyeballs stuck in your skull?” You found yourself blurting out, “Does it look like any part of my body came crashing through that window?!” You pointed aggressively in the direction of the livingroom, where glass littered the floor. It was too much for just an object to have been thrown through and your body had no cuts, nothing to show from possibly jumping through it.

  “Mom, if sissy was attacked─” Chrissy tried, her her mother was having none of it.

  “Attacked? Who would want to attack her? She’s invisible, taking up space!” Laura was practically hysterical as she gathered pieces of her broken dishes, “That’s why she’s acting out, can’t you see? She’s recreating the crime scene that got her so much attention and you’re all falling for it!”

  The woman was crying, mascara smearing around her eyes as her angry glare was once more directed to you, and you found yourself shrinking and hurt at the accusations, “You need serious help. You’re crazy and a danger to us all!”

  “I think you might be mistaking me for your psyche.” You mumbled before turning your attention to your father with pleading eyes, “Daddy, there was a home invasion! I tried to call the police, but as soon as I heard him, I ran up to hide in my room.”

  “She needs help, institutional treatment.” Laura hissed into your father’s ear as as though she was the devil on his shoulder.

  “Daddy…”

  “Mom, sissy’s not a nut, we can’t send her to the looney bin!” 

  You wanted to scream. All this talk about you being insane, and there was a literal walking corpse upstairs who could disprove that. You just weren’t willing to sacrifice Eddie for yourself. 

  “Dad, I’m not crazy. Okay? Last night was just a mirror, and tonight someone broke in. There’s a huge difference between the two, I’m not crazy.” You tried to reason, desperate to not get shipped off to some mental ward. 

  Your dad appeared sympathetic, “No one is calling you crazy, sweetheart.”

  ”I did.” Laura guffawed at your father siding with you.

  “She did, I heard her.” Chrissy confirmed, frowning at her mother.

  “No, Chris. Your mother’s just upset, she’d never say something like that and mean it.” You watched with disgust as he pulled Laura into his arms. It was more than you could stomach so you stormed out of the dining room, making a retreat for your room.

  You were on your own. Your father had just proved that. Laura could say anything to you, treat you like crap, starve you and he wouldn’t ever step in, just continue being his wishy washy self. If it had been him and not your mother that night, you wouldn’t be suffering like this. 

  You’d have a loving parent. 

  You quietly shut your bedroom door once you made it in, leaning your forehead against it as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye. Emotions were something you tried to embrace, but crying because of your family felt…wrong. Like something you shouldn’t have to do. 

  Wiping your face, you realized more tears would be coming. Tonight was meant for crying. So, you slipped into bed, tears leaking steadily down your temples to seep into your hair and pillows. You were so hurt and you wanted to sob, but you were conscious of the dead guy in your closet. What if he heard you?

  With a stuttering breath, you peered over at the closet to see the doors barely open and Eddie peaking out at you.

  You rolled onto your side, back facing him to hide your tear stained face and weakness as you thought about how loud you and Laura had been downstairs. He’d probably heard what she said about you.

  It was one thing to be treated the way you were, it felt extra pathetic to have someone bear witness to it. 

  The closet doors closed quietly behind you and just as you did every night, you squeezed your eyes shut, willing sleep to come so you could be done with the day and move onto the next, just solemnly trying to make it through life. 

  Maybe you and Eddie had more in common than you originally thought. Maybe you were a zombie, too.

  When your alarm blared from your nightstand, rousing you from sleep—the only peace you ever seemed to get—you stumbled out of bed almost blindly, eyes heavily lidded with exhaustion as you yanked your closet doors open.

  A garment was immediately thrown over your head, covering your face and you remembered your current house guest.

  With a sigh, you yanked the clothing off your head, balled it up and threw it back at Eddie, “Dude, I have to get dressed. I have class today.”

  Eddie grumbled, un-balling the little black dress and holding it up for you. It was the dress Chrissy had bought on sale and then given to you when she came to the conclusion that black washed her out and she looked much better in pastels.

  “I’m not wearing that, not so much my style.” You tried to push past Eddie, but he remained planted where he stood, grunting as he held the dress out to you once more.

  “Do I look like Madonna to you?” You asked, pushing the dress back towards him. Eddie groaned and threw the dress at your face again, closing the closet doors while you yanked it off your head, again.

  “We’re gonna have to have a conversation about your communication skills later.” You called through the door and fiddled with the dress, “Can I get a sweater or something to go along with this?”

  The closet doors were quickly opened and a new article of clothing was flung over your head before they closed. You’d just pulled the sweater off of your head when the doors opened once more and a hat was tossed at you.

  “Dang—anything else?”

  “Uuunggh.” Eddie moaned through the door, and you tried to pull at them but he must have been holding them shut from the otherside. 

  Resigned to your fate, you swapped out your pajamas for the outfit Eddie had apparently selected for you. He would navigate to the black clothing. You were unsure of it until you saw yourself in the mirror. Normally, your clothes weren't all that revealing. Form fitting—maybe, but never as attention drawing as this. You just figured you weren’t the type that could pull it off.

  You were wrong. 

  The dress hugged your figure in the most complimentary way. It was short, stopped mid-thigh, but it didn’t look awkward or make you feel like your vagina would be on display if you bent over, thanks to the lace of the bottom hem flaring out.

  For once, the girl in the mirror looked stunning. And when you did your makeup, taking your time to smoke a dark blue shadow out along your lash line and eyelids, she looked drop dead gorgeous. 

  You’d walked onto Campus with your head high, body rocking and a new found confidence that hadn’t quite made it’s way to the surface before. The heads turning in your direction were new and you found you kind of liked it, their gazes weren’t uninterested, scowls or looks of annoyance. They were appreciative, even from the straight girls!

  “Okay, am I seeing things or does your sister look drop dead gorgeous?” Tina asked, as Chrissy and her friends stood admiring you from the bench they were occupying.

  “You’ve got perfect 20/20 vision. She’d be unstoppable if she kept the confidence. Could probably even win pageants. Do you think she’d join cheer?”

  Eddie fiddled with one of your shoes, tugging on a shoestring in boredom. He was sat on the floor of your closet, light from your bedroom windows creeping in through the cracks of the doors. 

  You’d lectured him before you left for class, told him he had to stay put. Laura wouldn’t be leaving for her nurses’ conference until the afternoon, so she’d be lingering in the house and she’d have a cow if she stumbled upon him.

  So you’d pointed and lectured until he was creaking and groaning his compliance. 

  He’d stayed in the closet while you got dressed and, after you’d made sure Chrissy had already left, watched you do your makeup in the mirror while you chatted about the classes you had to take for the day.

  Eddie had listened, to the best of his ability with one ear, and stared at your reflection as the heavy sense of longing settled on his chest, crushing the heart that no longer beat but desperately wished to. For you.

  Death was not like he’d ever expected. No heaven, no hell. He was just…dead. Maybe it’d been the way he died. Perhaps, the suddenness of it, his lack of peace in life while living, or the fact that he was murdered, was the reason he saw neither heaven nor hell. He’d just been in a dark place. Literally, no source of light, no out of body experience, just darkness. For a while, it was tolerable, he’d heard Wayne’s voice comforting him. Telling him how much he loved him, how much he missed him. Then, nothing.

  Nothing for so long. Quiet. Silence, not at all a peaceful kind. He no longer existed in life and yet the silence was still somehow smothering. 

  Until one day, he wasn’t alone anymore. 

  You found him. 

  Talked to him all the time, laid with him, kept him company and said such wonderful things. Eddie had no idea how much he’d appreciate hearing about current news events as a dead guy.

  And while you kept him from feeling lonely, there was always a sadness to your presence. Broke his heart when you told him out of place you felt because he just wanted to claw his way out of his grave and tell you that no, you weren’t odd, you weren’t weird, you weren’t out of place. You were unique. You were the type of person he would have admired if he had been alive, different but not desperate to fit in. Just longed to be accepted.

  He understood the sentiment all too well. 

  Eddie understood you. And you had no idea who he was, had voiced as much to him, couldn’t come up with his identity because some fuckers had defaced his tombstone—of course they would—and yet, you knew exactly who Eddie was. Knew him to his very core.

  When you visited him, Eddie felt warm. He had no idea he could even feel things, other than the constant loneliness that had plagued him after Wayne’s presence disappeared, and before you.

  With you, it felt like you were right there with him, beside him. A warmth, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for some much needed comforting. How ironic that he finally found someone who could finally see him, and he couldn’t do anything about it because he was dead. 

  And when you had come to Eddie that fateful night, the sadness he always noticed about you was heavier. A new despair attached, one that had him desperate to get to you, comfort you as you’d done for him.

  I wish I was with you.

  You’d said it. Had said what Eddie had wanted to hear you say for so long, even before he was dead. Before he knew you. It had always been you he was waiting for. He was beginning to understand the universe was bigger than anything he could have imagined (and yeah, maybe universal studios was the first thing that came to mind when he was alive), was positive the heartache he went through was necessary if it led him to you. Eddie could have done without the murder—there was no undoing that. Except, there kind of was. And it happened with a strike of lightning.

  Unlike the many times he wanted to before, he’d actually been able to open his eyes, break out of his coffin and dig his way out of his own grave. 

  Eddie had had a major breakdown, freaking out at just about everything regarding returning from the dead after he’d broken through that final layer of thick terrain, minutely softened by some light rain from the storm. He had first tried to go home, only to find himself face to face with an unfamiliar mobile home set up on Wayne’s lot. A peek into the window revealed a couple. 

  No sign of his uncle.

  It filled him with a sense of panic and he’d needed something—someone to stabilize him, keep him grounded. 

  Eddie was sure he was tied to you. Not only because of the unique bond you shared, he also felt a pull to you. Just some intense instinct. 

  He knew where to go after.

  Your welcome hadn’t exactly been as warm as the grave hangouts—he didn’t blame you, his vocal chords were useless to him for the time being, meaning he couldn’t explain himself as you shrieked and flung dishes at him (and he was impressed) and fled from him. He could make sounds, so Eddie suspected he had the ability to talk, just lacked the healthy cords due to years of non-use to them, what with him being dead and all. 

  Eddie’s case was definitely not helped when he’d broken your fall—he was freaking the fuck out about you dangling from the roof like that—and you’d pressed on him stomache when you landed on him. 

  He hadn’t meant to…y’know…spit all that up on you, it just happened and he immediately wanted to die right after, just roll right back into his grave, he was so fucking embarrassed.

  Projectile vomited on the girl you’re tryna romance, Munson. Nice.

  Then, you hadn’t been attacking him, tugging him along to your room instead where you immediately told him you were just using dark humor to cope and didn’t actually want to be with him.

  Probably something you should have clarified for him before he returned from the dead to be with you, but whatever. He wasn’t mad about it. Just a little bit heartbroken. Definitely didn’t stink up your closet with a little cry sesh while you were at college. Totally didn’t smell like Cherry Bubbles (how is that a scent?) from the bathroom spray he’d had to limp out to grab in an effort to hide the scent of his rotting body tears.

  Now, he was just confused. Had no idea what the hell to do. Thinking on it, it had obviously been stupid as fuck to think you’d want him when he was literally a dead body. Couldn’t exactly stroll down the street, holding his one hand without garnering a few odd looks and arrests. 

  So, what could he do now? Sit in the closet and think about everything. Try to remember everything about his last moments alive—and when it had him wheezing in the closet, cowering in the dark, he’d switched to thinking about his uncle. Concerned. Wondering what had happened to him. When that subject, too, began to promise a panic attack—he switched to thinking about you, and oh how he ached in a different way. You were right there, in reach for him and yet the two of you couldn’t be. 

  The most frustrating part is how good the two of you could be for each other, and Eddie literally couldn’t talk you into giving it a chance, couldn’t even flirt with you. 

  He had some mad rizz when given the opportunity, a body that wasn’t stiff as hell and a fucking voice. Eddie knew he’d be able to get you all shy and cute, similar to how you were when you talked about what you thought he was like back at the cemetery. 

  FUCK. What the hell? Life wasn’t fair to him, death wasn’t fair to him, now life as some zombie wasn’t gonna be fair to him?

  What kind of fucked up existance was this?!

  All because of some stupid fucking lightning that—

  Lightning. Eddie perked up, theories racing through him. If it had brought him back from the dead, maybe it could do more. Before he could think on it further, he heard your door open and froze. 

  It was too soon for you to be home. You said you’d be back in the afternoon, after Laura had left. 

  Eddie heard a scoff.

  “How has it gotten even worse in here?” Laura mumbled to herself. 

  Eddie scowled, as he heard her footsteps enter your room, could hear her padding around. 

  The fuck was she doing in here?

  It was a risk, Eddie pushed the closet door open, just enough to give him a crack to peep through. 

  Your stepmom was in some sort of jazzercise outfit—ugh, of course she did jazzercise. The blonde woman was currently rummaging through your drawers, looking amongst your belongings. 

  She was invading your privacy.

  If Eddie had blood flowing through his veins, it would have been boiling. 

  He’d heard what she said last night, how she berated you. Accusing you of using your mother’s murder to seek attention.

  And the other members of your family weren’t speaking up nearly enough to defend you. He was surprised that Chrissy—small town for Cunningham to be the Chrissy you’d been telling him about—even tried to defend you but she should have been putting her mother in her place. She hadn’t come up to check on you, either. 

  Eddie had a few things he wished he could say to Laura Cunningham, tell her exactly where she could shove her stupid figurines and verbal abuse. 

  If she was searching for something, Laura didn’t find it. She slammed one of your drawers shut, eyed your sketches pinned to your wall with disgust before speed walking out of your room. When she passed the closet, Eddie took notice of the headphones over her ears, could hear whatever she was listening to, Walkman probably set to the loudest volume.

  Eddie’s mouth chipped up into a smirk that kind of hurt his face. He opened the closet door fully, stumbling out to poked his head out of your bedroom doorway just in time to see your stepmom disappear down the stairs.

  Eddie followed, steps loud and uneven. Laura didn’t notice his presence, too engrossed in whatever she was listening to and occupied with her own ego. Looked to be cleaning up the place before her little trip. 

  Laura disappeared into the kitchen, well out of view of the living room so Eddie stumbled in, eyeing the pristine setting. The place looked impeccable, spotless, antiques everywhere that Eddie just knew the old bat was dying to have people ask about so she could name drop and be as haughty as possible.

  Eddie could wreck all of this in no time, and he would if he didn’t know she’d immediately blame you for it. He still felt guilty you’d been chewed out for the mess he made. 

  Bitch.

  Eddie heard her returning, so he hid behind the wall, waiting a few moments before he peered around it and across the foyer, into the dinning room where she was seated after having fixed herself something. Laura still had the headphones on, so Eddie took that as the all clear to continue exploring.

  He spotted a family portrait hung over the fireplace, a seemingly picture perfect family was displayed. A man he assumed to be your father loomed over Laura and Chrissy, one hand on each of their shoulders. Eddie barely glanced at them before you pulled all of his attention. You were stunning, light catching the highlights of your face, lips parted just enough to encourage a pout. Your hair was wild in comparison to the other women in the portrait—Eddie loved it. You looked like you belonged on an album cover for some rock band, even with the sorrow swirling around in your eyes. Your unwavering melancholic stare pinned Eddie, and he could feel himself getting protective over you again. You must have been miserable that day. 

  See, if he had been around, he could have easily cheered you up. Snuck over on the day in question. Laura would have hated his fucking guts—Eddie wouldn’t have minded being the boyfriend your stepmom didn’t approve of.  Horsing around behind the little photo shoot set up to get you smiling, get those pretty eyes of yours twinkling before whisking you the hell out of there once they got the money shot.

  He rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself as he turned away from the past that never was. Couldn’t have (he’d already been dead), should have (but couldn’t) and would have. In a heartbeat.

  His posture worsened under the weight of his own despair, sulking with it until he spotted an acoustic guitar, tucked in the corner and resting on a stand.

  “Mm?” Eddie tilted his head in curiosity before making his way over. It was difficult to do, but he managed to settle the neck of it in the crook of the arm lacking a hand, and strummed with his stiff fingers, pleased to find that it was already tuned. 

  He plucked a couple more chords, stopping once to adjust a peg. Then the doorbell rang and Eddie’s eyes widened. He fumbled to place the guitar back on its stand and plaster himself against the wall as Laura got up to answer it, having apparently been able to hear it ring but not his guitar playing.

  “Yes?” Laura asked as she opened the door, impatience soaking through her tone.

  “Carpet cleaning.” A man’s voice stated, sounding bored beyond measure. 

  “Carpet Cleaning? My carpet is so clean you can lick the fibers.” God, was your stepmom ever not insufferable? The carpet cleaner salesman seemed to be thinking the same thing and Eddie figured he had to be annoyed with his work day already to say what he did next.

  “I doubt the one downstairs is.” The salesman snorted and Eddie would have snickered if he could as he heard Laura let out an affronted and embarrassed gasp. 

  “EXCUSE ME?!” 

  The guy must have turned tail because Laura was stepping out after him, yelling as she closed the front door behind her. 

  Eddie eyed the bowl she’d been eating from, curiosity getting the better of him as he stumbled over to inspect it. Spaghetti.

  He shouldn’t….But what was the point of being a dead corpse if he couldn’t use dead guy powers for good?

  It only took a little effort, Eddie successfully gagged and heaved until a warm that had been lurking in his stomach came out, dropping out of his mouth to wiggle around in Laura’s lunch. Eddie watched as it disappeared between the noodles and sauce, satisfaction filling him.

  Served the hag right.

  With justice served, Eddie made his way back upstairs to your room. He’d just made it to your doorway when he heard Laura return. He waited a few more moments for her to sit down, settle herself, twirl some spaghetti around her fork and put it in her mouth.

  Eddie was beginning to think the worm had made its way to the very bottom of the bowl when Laura let out a high pitched scream. 

  That one was for you.

  Eddie smirked and walked back into your room, quietly closing the door behind him.

  You had two classes for the day, back to back so as to not have to stay on campus longer than necessary, and both classes were pleasant. There hadn’t been any change in the materials covered or anything, eyes just kept attempting to discreetly take you in, which you caught from your peripheral vision. 

  While you enjoyed the new attention your attire and the way you carried yourself brought you, you quickly realized it wasn’t something you needed. What you needed was to feel good about yourself and for once in your life, you did. 

  You were absolutely giddy, and you felt so badass somehow, was this what Chrissy and her friends felt like all the time? Maybe putting effort into your appearance wasn’t just a load of crap dispelled onto ugly people by the conventionally attractive. 

  Regardless, you were strutting your way to the library, eager to turn in some books, make Steve Harrington’s jaw drop, then run back home to Eddie so you could thank him profusely for not having fugly taste.

  Once you made it to the library, you noticed no one was at the front desk. Steve must have been putting some books back on their shelves.

  No problem, more time to prepare yourself, maybe run through some possible conversations so you wouldn’t go stupid at the sight of his gorgeous face.

  Your bag hit the ground with a thud, thanks to the weight of the hardcovers within it and you bent down at the waist to rummage through it, placing one heavy hardcover book, two heavy hardcover books, three heavy hardco—

  “You got the rest of the library in there, Mary Poppins?”

  You snapped back up, whipping around just in time to see Steve’s gaze rise from where your ass had been unknowingly on display, to meet your eyes, his honey brown ones swirling with warmth.

  Oh, god. Just play it cool.

  “Just some tampons and some chips.” 

  Leave. Walk out. Save face.

  “No chocolate for that time of the month?” He asked, leaning up against the desk, rather than going around it to handle your returns. Steve wanted to talk to you. He’d been eyeing your ass and now he was making small talk. 

  You were going for it. 

  “Craving a different kind of sweet thing right now.” You leaned in, just as he had at the tailor’s yesterday. You were laying it on thick, sure. It worked though. Steve leaned in, too, and you clocked the tick of his eyebrow. Interest. Holy shit—things were finally looking up for you.

  “I’ve got some starbursts in my car,” Chrissy chirped, materializing out of thin air to stand in front of you and Steve. 

  You almost knocked down the books you’d stacked on the desk, cursing under your breath. “Geez, Chrissy.”

  “Hi.” She grinned at you, her darling crooked teeth gleaming before she was fixing Steve with a stern look, “Sorry, I need to talk to my sister. Preferably, alone.”

  “I’m not exactly gonna run to the gossip columns about anything.” He mused, exchanging an amused look with you but you couldn’t really hear anything going on around you because Steve Harrington was flashing you smiles around Chrissy, your pretty and practically perfect step-sister, and not her. You’d entered another dimension and you did not want to leave. All you could do was smile back at him, like some infatuated idiot while your fingers reached up to pick at your lower lip.

  “That may be so, but I think it’s best if she hangs around a good crowd.” Somehow, Chrissy had wedged herself between you and Steve, standing protectively in front of you with her arms crossed. She was about as intimidating as a pomeranian. Still, it was endearing to have someone act like they cared about you.

  “And the library is just full of Neanderthals, is that what you’re implying?” Steve leaned both elbows back on the desk, gesturing out to the few students—most meek in appearance—occupying the area.

  “I was thinking more of creepy librarians, high school peakers, and former playboys.” Chrissy shot back and you nudged her, hissing out her name. The protective thing was nice, just not when she was trying to scare away the man you’d be making your boyfriend.

  “Golden coming from you, of all people, your royal highness, the Queen of Hawkins High; former head cheerleader and Miss Hawkins of ‘87, but not ‘88 and I’m pretty sure Heather Holloway won again this year, so looks like we both don’t have a lot going on, do we?” Steve was smug, shooting you a wink that made your heart melt and drip down your sternum.

  Steam was practically blowing out of Chrissy’s ears, “Shoo fly, don’t bother us.” 

  Steve rolled his eyes before they fixed on you, past Chrissy’s head, “I’ll see you later okay? Thanks for bringing your books back on time.”

  You giggled, still staring at him as Chrissy began to tug you away, “Until the next time, I guess?”

  Steve held your stare, smirk softening into a smile, “I’ll be waiting.”

  It was easy for Chrissy to guide you out after that. You were floating. Light as a feather and high on life.

  “You are the only girl I know who can survive a spiked drink and still want to have anything to do with the guy.” Chrissy sighed in exasperation as the two of you loitered by the drinking fountain, “There’s like at least four other guys here who would date you, sissy! Don’t waste your time on that one.”

  Okay. Only four other guys? Ouch. “Steve didn’t spike it. Carol did.”

  “And she’s always following him around like some sad little mutt. Better to just stay away.”

  You scowled, mood souring. One afternoon. You couldn’t have just one afternoon where you felt good about yourself without someone bringing you down. You knew Chrissy meant well, but in that moment, she was pissing you off. 

  She seemed to pick up on the shift of your attitude, changing the subject, “After practice, I’m gonna go out tonight. Some of the girls want to go bowling and then have a little kick back. Cover for me?”

  How very much like Chrissy to insult you in the name of protectiveness, and then ask you for a favor. She still cared more about you than your own flesh and blood, so, “I thought your mom was gonna be away for a few days in Akron.”

  “She is, but daddy’s not. And he’s way too overprotective, I can’t even sneeze without him bursting into my room to ask me what’s wrong. He always wants to know where I’m going, argues with me when I try to go out late—it’s so annoying.”

  All you could think about were the many times you’d said goodbye to him as you left the house at whatever hour you wanted while he mumbled a bye and read whatever magazine he was reading or watched TV. 

  You tried to consider it a good thing that he let you be so independent, yet something in you ached, sure he simply didn't care enough for you. Not like he did Chrissy, and he’d known you longer, all your life. 

  “Oh. Uhm, I think he works late today, anyway. I’ll cover if he asks, but I’m sure you’re good.”

  Chrissy perked up, pulling you into a tight hug, “You are the best! I knew I was gonna love having you as a sister. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  Chrissy didn’t wait for your reply, practically bouncing down the hallway and you sighed. 

  At least you’d have some peace and quiet, maybe you could get Eddie into better shape too, and you’d get to tell him about your day!

  With your classes done, you made your way to the parking lot, where Mystery waited for you. 

  You slid the back door of the Volkswagen open, tossing your bag in before sliding the door shut and climbing into the driver's seat of the bus. Then you started your mantras and manifestations, gripping the key with a sweaty palm before you were sticking it into the ignition and turning it with bated breath.

  She roared to life and you sagged back in your seat, bones like jelly knowing you piece of crap bus was still kicking.

  It was the biggest lemon of a car you’d ever seen, carried around jugs of coolant in the back because it had to be refilled almost every time you started it.

  But it was yours.

  When you pulled up to the house to see Laura’s car was gone, you felt yet another weight lifted off your shoulders. You were completely free to be you. Snatching your bag from the back, you made a run for your house, quickly unlocking the door before stampeding up the stairs. 

  You burst into your bedroom, chest heaving to find it in normal condition and no Eddie around. Frowning, you tossed your bag on the floor, beside your bed, and made your way over to the closet, yanking the doors open.

  Eddie peered up at you from his position on the floor, rocking an old feather boa of yours.

  “Eddie, I told you you were free to roam once Laura left. You don’t have to stay cramped in there all day when no one is around.” You offered him a hand and helped hoist him when you took it, “You wouldn’t believe the day I had—you’ve got stellar taste, by the way.”

  “Uuungh?”

  You reached under your bed, snatching an old Easter basket out that you used to hide your snacks. After you settled on the bed, you patted the spot next to you, and Eddie hobbled his way over, grunting as he settled onto the cushy comforter.

  “I know I was grumpy this morning. I’m sorry, you were right. The dress was a hit!” You exclaimed, ripping a bag of sour gummy worms open. The pink end was clenched between your teeth as you bit it off, bag of sweet and sour treats held out to Eddie as an offering.

  Eddie reached into the bag, attempting to crook his fingers enough to hook one. You watched the leathery skin between his brows pull—if you had blinked, you would have missed it—as he struggled to free his hand from the bag, shaking it a little until you pinched the bottom firmly, allowing him to pull it out.

  “Unngh.” He grunted in thanks. 

  As Eddie moved onto the challenge of getting the gummy worm to his mouth, you went back to telling him about your day, “I mean, god—all I did was put on a little dress and I felt kind of invincible. Not to mention Steve Harrington seemed to like it.”

  Eddie froze, gummy worm hanging out of his mouth, “Mm?”

  “Steve Harrington, did’ ya know him?” You asked, steamrolling right on as if you hadn’t, “Talk about winning the genetic pool—that man is so fine. We talked a little at that party I told you about, and before I did drugs, he was being so nice to me. And I didn’t look as hot as I do now, so I was hoping for a reaction out of him—BOY did I get it.”

  You let out a dreamy sigh, recalling the way Steve had leaned into your straightforward flirting.

  “He’s kind, funny, and sometimes he even has good book recommendations. He’s like the total package and I think he might actually like me.”

  You paused your ranting to look over at Eddie. If you didn’t already know his face was stuck like that, you would have thought he was scowling. 

  “You got a little…” Reaching a hand up to cup his jaw, your thumb lifted the gummy worm hanging out of his mouth the rest of the way up. Eddie’s cracked lips parted, just enough for you to press the rest of it in, then he chewed slowly, face not even twitching to clue you in on his emotions. 

  “There.” Your hand dropped back into your lap as you perked up, “I wanna assume he’s better than the other horndogs who popped woodies just because I wore a dress and flashed some leg.”

  You stuck out your leg to demonstrate, the dress slipping even further up your thigh as you held it out, smooth (mostly, she was a little prickly but no one would notice unless they were stroking it) skin on display under some fishnet stockings.

  Eddie let out a pained sounding groan, which you figured meant he was agreeing with you about the rest of the male population. 

  “Yeah. Well, I think everything’s gonna work out perfectly. Even if Chrissy keeps butting into my love life like some fairy chastity-mother. God—I just, I’ve never been close to actually having something I wanted before, you know?”

  Eddie whined from behind closed lips, holding up the wrist that lacked his hand. 

  “What?” You asked, glancing down at the scarf wrapped around it. Eddie reached up with his fucked up fingers to point at where his ear should have been and it clicked for you, “Eddie, I can’t pull an extra hand and ear outta my ass. I wish I could, but I don’t have spare human parts lying around like pieces of a vacuum.”

  Eddie whined again and this time you could actually see his lips pulling down, frowning.

  “I told you I wish I could, but I can’t! I don't know how to get people parts and I don’t exactly have the black market on speed dial. Besides—you’re fine like this, I mean what are you able to do as walking dead guy anyways?”

  “MUUUUNGGGHHHH!” Eddie groaned, loud and obviously upset as he dramatically flung himself back on the bed hard enough to shake it.

  “Hey!” You snapped, fearful for your bed frame, “Chill out dude—don’t act all coked out!”

  He turned his head, face miserable but before you could continue your scolding, you heard your name called upstairs.

  Laura.

  “SHIT, hide!” Eddie stumbled up and barely even had the chance to turn around before you shoved him into your closet, shutting the doors.

  You’d barely stepped away when Laura burst into your room. She was dressed in her nurse uniform, complete with the stupid hat, yet there was something off with her. Her skin had a grayish tint to it, she looked clammy, eyes and nostrils red with irritation and her mascara was running. Laura Cunningham looked just as terrible on the outside as she was inside.

  And for once, she scared you.

  “Laura! I thought you were headed out of town for your trip.” Laura’s stare was even colder than you’d ever seen it, unnaturally icy blue eyes both vacant and filled with a deranged sort of rage. You expected her pupils to turn into slits any second, it would be the last physical trait she’d need to resemble a demon.

  Stepmother from hell, indeed.

  “Mmm, I’m sure you were looking forward to that,” Her voice was soft, almost gentle and nothing about it was kind. It was as if to coax you forward to her, lull you into a sense of ease before striking. You were reminded of the anglerfish, and the glow of their fin ray. They used it to draw unsuspecting prey towards the light before they were devoured. 

  You took a small step back. She took one forward.

  “I suppose I’ll just have to attend next year, I’ll be skipping the conference this year. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to do much learning or networking with my head plastered in a toilet bowl. I seem to have come down with something. Do you know what my symptoms are?” She asked, voice so sugary sweet and thick. 

  “Uhm. I-I’ve been on my period. Maybe we synced?” You hated how small your voice sounded.

  Laura’s lips pressed into a thin, cruel smile, “No. I haven’t been throwing up with a cramping stomach because of my period. I’ve been vomiting non-stop because a little slut under my roof is trying to kill me. And do you know who that psychotic little tramp is?”

  Your eyebrows furrowed, mouth parting in shock. Did your stepmother just call you a slut?

  “ANSWER ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU!” She bellowed, making you jump and gasp. You’d never heard Laura raise her voice like that, it dropped several octaves and she was staring at you with nothing but pure hatred burning in her eyes.

  All you could do was shake your head. You were terrified, but you weren’t about to play her game. You were neither a slut nor a tramp and it was clear, regardless of what you’d say or do, she’d be unleashing her wrath upon you.

  Laura chuckled without humor, “You really are just a stupid, insignificant bitch, aren’t you? I open up my home to you and you do nothing but cause trouble every time I so much as turn my head. I have been nothing but kind to you, even after you wrecked my home. I’ve been an angel. But putting worms in my food?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I didn’t touch your food, I just got home from classes. An—And I didn’t ask for any of this, I didn’t ask to move here.” You could see tears beginning to blur your vision, welling up and threatening to cascade over your lower lashes. They didn’t. You refused to cry in front of her. Refused to give her that satisfaction. 

  “Oh, please.” Laura scoffed, looking at you in bewilderment, “Did you want to stay in the house where your mother was sliced and diced? Was that a comfort for you?”

  “You know that’s not what I meant, I didn't want to start my life over in some town full of ignorant people.” You gritted out, hand clenching the bag of gummy worms.

  “Ignorant people, and yet—you still don’t fit it in. Telling isn’t it?”

  Despite your fear, you felt your own rage starting to build within you and before you could stop yourself, you spat out “What do you care? You never wanted me here. You just wanted my dad here in your clutches and you knew that wouldn’t happen if we hadn’t moved. He would have never chosen you over my mom.”

  Laura sneered, “It’s not much of a choice when she’s rotting in some coffin, six feet under, is it? I’m sure she’s relieved to be done with you and all the disgusting things you do for attention.”

  “Shut up!” You demanded, seething now as the devil incarnate dared to speak about your mother in such a disrespectful manner. Laura was only able to sleep in a bed alongside your father—wear that tacky ring on her finger because your mother had tragically lost her life. 

  Laura wouldn’t be but a mosquito in the room if your mother were alive.

  You hadn’t been expecting the strike that came next, hadn’t been prepared for Laura to pull her arm back and swing it forward, cracking your cheek so hard you almost spun. You yelped, hand reaching up to press against the skin of your cheek, feeling it throb and sting under your touch.

  She fucking hit you. You gaped at her in disbelief and Laura didn’t look remotely apologetic.

  “I am beyond tired of you and I am not going to wait until some maniac guts me to be rid of you. Especially when you’re already a threat to my life. No. I won’t stand for it, so I took it upon myself to begin your admittance to Hawkins National Psychiatric Center.

  Your blood ran cold as images of the unsettling ‘center’ flooded your mind. You’d heard of it before, horror stories told amongst your peers. A psych ward. And Laura Cunningham was going to have you committed. 

  “No, please. No.” You whispered, voice laced with fear.

  “It’s for the good of everyone,” Laura began, leering over you. “You don’t belong here. Your place is locked up, solitary confinement where no one will have to see you ever aga—

  THUNK.

  Laura let out the smallest of gasps.

  You watched the unsettling blue of her eyes give away to whites and red veins as they rolled to the back of her head, her body going limp as she tipped forward and fell face first to the ground. Your mouth dropped open as you watched her collapse, gurgling and twitching on the ground for just a few seconds before she went still. Then your gaze flitted to Eddie, who stood tall with your old sewing machine clutched in his hand, a corner stained red. 

  Your eyes flashed back down to Laura, and they widened in size when the pink of your carpet began to turn a bright red, blood seeping out of her skull to pool around her head and soak into the floor.

  Eddie made a grunt that sounded more so like a noise of satisfaction and tossed the sewing machine back into the closet. 

  You heard them before you saw them. Eddie had found the small pair of scissors included with your sewing machine and clipped them in the air before he bent down. You could only watch, stunned silent and with morbid curiosity as Eddie snipped your stepmother’s ear off.

  “Oh, god…” You finally found your voice, eyes darting anywhere else to avoid seeing the skin severed. You breathing became labored, chest rising and falling rapidly as you staved off a panic attack while your undead friend cut the ear from Laura’s dead body.

  Eddie held it up in triumph, like it was some sort of medal rather than a human ear.

  “Wha─? Why─?” You couldn’t even finish a sentence and Eddie must have noticed how distraught you were. He rose from the floor, stepping over Laura’s body to pull you into his arms and despite what had just occurred, you returned the embrace; arm slipping under his to clutch at the back of his shoulder, desperate for the comfort he was offering. His hand rubbed circles over your back and you leaned your cheek against Eddie’s shoulder, stare never once leaving Laura’s body as you whimpered.

  When he pulled back—just enough to be able to look at your face—he held the ear up, towards you.

  You knew exactly what he was asking you to do.

  ”Eddie…I—I can’t. I can’t do that…We have to bury the body first.” You placed a hand on his chest, leaning into him again as you both turned your heads to stare at someone who was no longer a problem for you. For the first time, in a very long time, you felt safe.

  Eddie had rescued you.

Moving the body was surprisingly easy. You’d expected Eddie’s limbs to be fragile for some reason, a foolish thought considering he’d so easily crashed through your window that first night. Eddie actually possessed a great deal of strength, easily lifting Laura’s body—wrapped in sheets—and carrying her downstairs. 

  Movement seemed to be getting easier for him, limbs that had been out of use for years returning to life and unstiffening just as he had. If his arms could support Laura’s body with no problem, you wondered what had happened to his missing hand in the first place.

  You made sure the coast was clear before you pulled your bus up the driveway and Eddie placed the body in the back. It obviously hadn’t been strapped down, so while you drove to the cemetery, Laura’s body was rolling around, banging against the sides of the Volkswagen. Eddie just turned up the music you’d been playing.

  The cemetery was vacant, thanks to the relatively early time of the day. Most people still hadn’t gotten off of work yet, which made this easy for you and Eddie. It wasn’t the most respectful thing to do—you were just out of options. A grave had already been dug out, for some poor recently deceased soul (not Laura, she could go to hell), so, the two of you had quite literally dumped Laura’s body into the empty hole and covered her with a layer of dirt so she’d go unnoticed when they’d lower the coffin, of whoever’s grave this was, into it. 

  After the deed was done, the two of you stood side-by-side, staring into it. 

  “Is death comforting?” You asked, breaking the silence. Eddie didn’t answer, didn’t even grunt, so you turned your head to the side to find him already staring at you. 

  He shook his head. 

  “Good. C’mon.” You gave the burial plot, now and forever housing Laura, an extremely and aggressively disrespectful finger, and tugged Eddie back to the bus. He went willingly after kicking some more dirt into it.

  When the two of you returned home—after you briefly stopped for ice cream while Eddie waited in the bus—you’d gotten straight to work; Eddie’s head in your lap as you sewed the ear into place.

  While you threaded the needle through the skin, Eddie waited patiently, thumb playing with your fishnets. Once you knotted the string and used your teeth to nip off the excess, you admired your work. 

  Good stitching, secure and it wouldn’t fall off. The coloring was a bit odd, skin appearing obviously more lively than Eddie’s dull gray-green tint. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  “Done.” You announced, hands resting on the mattress at your sides. Slowly, Eddie rose to a sitting position, head shifting around to face you, “What’s the survey say? Ear any good? Hear anything?”

  Those big, deep brown, baby cow eyes of his looked despondent as he shook his head. 

  “Mm-mm.”

  You sighed, feeling a bit despondent yourself. He’d saved you from a life of medicated compliance and padded walls, and you couldn’t even get the human ear you’d stitched to the side of his head to work. You felt guilty knowing you couldn’t make him whole again, as he so desperately wanted to be. Couldn’t be his blue fairy.

  You reached your fingers up, tips brushing alongside the soft outer edge of his ear. How funny that an appendage that had once belonged to the nastiest person you’d ever encountered, a woman who hated your very existence, was now endearing because it was a part of the guy before you. Your friend. Your protector. What had taken place that afternoon would no doubt lead to trouble, but you knew Eddie hadn’t acted out of malice. 

  He’d simply wanted to help you. And—okay, yes, he got an ear out of it, but it didn’t work. What mattered is that you weren’t alone anymore. You had someone that actually cared about you. Enough to kill for you, even. 

  It felt…like you mattered to someone.

  “I’m sorry.” You mumbled in disappointment, “I really did think it was gonna work, too. Guess Laura’s still useless, even when she’s dead.”

  Your hand dropped back into your lap as the two of you simultaneously heaved out sighs. 

  “At least you have something there, you know?” You tried to see the positive side, keep Eddie happy, “Like nipples with boob jobs. The dial doesn’t work but you can still turn the knob.” 

  He made a humming sound, contemplating the analogy, weighing it as his head tilted this way and that way. 

  “Maybe it’ll catch up with you later, like the rest of your body. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you getting better at moving around.” You teased, nudging your shoulder playfully against his.

  Eddie stiffened and you thought you might have offended him, “I mean—I’m not paying super duper close attention or anything, I just like to watch you—It’s not like I see a living dead guy every day.”

  “Unngh.” Eddie seemed to pay no attention to your word vomiting, pointing at a sharpie on your nightstand. 

  “What? This?” You reached over and snagged it, offering it to him. He carefully took it from your hands, his hardened fingers brushing over your soft ones, and awkwardly popped the cap off with his thumb. 

  Your eyebrows shot up as Eddie began doodling on the skin of your hand near your thumb and index finger. 

  “Why did I think you were illiterate?” You mused aloud and Eddie briefly stopped to glare at you and grunted, unamused, “You can’t blame me, you could have picked up a pen and paper this entire time, hell—I have an Etch A Sketch you could have been using instead of making me decipher your ‘uuunnngghhss’.” You did your best impression of his zombie grunting and he put the sharpie between his thighs so he could flick the cap at you. 

  Like an expert dodger, you lifted your hand just in time for it to bounce off your palm as you giggled and he went back to finishing up his little doodle. 

  A lightning bolt. 

  Your lips pulled into a soft smile as you admired it, something warm pooling in your belly. It was cute and there was something very attractive to you about walking around with Eddie’s little sketch on you.

  An Eddie Was Here, if you will.

  And then it hit you. Lightning.

  “OH.”

  Eddie grunted, pleased that you’d picked up on what he was trying to convey.

  “But how are we gonna…” You trailed off, brows furrowing as a montage of the two of you played in your head; sticking a metal rod in the ground with Eddie holding onto it as you waited for some approaching storm to electrocute him. The only problem was the weather forecast for the week predicted nothing but sunshine and clear, starry nights. No electrocution for the week. Unless…. “Oh my god.”

  You turned to Eddie, grinning almost maniacally, “I’m a genius.”

  Forty minutes later, you found yourself staring at your reflection in the vanity mirror Chrissy had set up inside the tan shack. It was softly aglow with pink and warm hued fairy lights, and neon blue coming from the tanning bed. One of her beauty pageant crowns was placed on your head, and you had to admit, it did make you feel pretty. It looked good on you, too. Huh. Maybe you should have done pageants, could have won one, even.

  Sparks flew from the tanning bed, some feet away, with Eddie inside of it. 

  It was the next best thing to actually being struck by lightning. Well, it was either the tanning bed or electrocuting him in the small pool with a plugged in radio, but you didn’t want to get wet.

  You grabbed a little fairy wand, no doubt part of one of Chrissy’s pageant costumes—probably Galinda—and posed with it, pleased with your reflection. Your hair was frizzy and it somehow added to your allure. 

  You could rock with this confidence thing for a while if it made you not hate yourself like usual. 

  The tanning bed’s buzzing whirled down until it was silent, save for a few random sparks, and the bed opened up, top lifting to reveal Eddie laying in a cloud of smoke, wearing those little goggles you’d insisted on to protect those pretty eyes of his.

  You got up to check on him, tapping his chest with the end of the wand, “You baked enough?”

  He groaned as he sat up and dinged his head on the top of the tanning bed and you flinched, dropping the wand.

  “Ooh, yeah, I’ve been there too.”

  Grabbing onto his hand, you helped pull him out of the tanning bed to sit on the edge and sat beside him, pushing the goggles up his large forehead and pinning away his bangs.

  Eddie didn’t say anything, just blinked sluggishly. He was baked alright, that voltage was no joke.

  “Eddie,” You leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Can you hear me in there?”

  No reaction. 

  “EDDIE MUNSON, CAN YOU HEAR ANYTHING I AM SAYING?!”

  To your amazement, Eddie flinched away from your shrieking, and with his face turned to you, you noticed he looked different, skin more…skin like. Not the leather you’d noticed before. He still hadn’t answered you, so you kept going, “IS THAT A YES—YEAH?”

  Eddie groaned out, face affronted as you continued to scream at him and your shrieking turned into screams of excitement. Eddie joined you in yelling (well, he tried, it was very loud groaning) when it dawned on him.

  It worked. Eddie Munsons had two working ears.

  “Oh my god!” You flung yourself at him and immediately jolted away when you got shocked. Eddie reached out for you, resting his hand on your shoulder, “No, it’s okay, that was on me. I got too excited, but oh my god! Eddie! It worked! We got you a working ear!” 

  You were beaming, felt like you’d cracked the secret of life. And it looked like Eddie was trying to smile at you, corners of his lips pulled up just a tad. 

  The two of you looked ridiculous, you with your frizzy hair, crown and fairy wand, and Eddie with his electrocuted hairdo, tanning goggles making his bangs look insane and a slightly discolored (actually, it was looking more like his skin tone now, bizarre) ear, with one earring and one hand.

  You glanced down at your arm; specifically, at Eddie’s arm resting against it. The one that lacked a hand.

  Well, you’d already started. 

  “I think I know someone who can give you a hand.”

[wcnderlnds]

──★ dracula's vacation home / peter maximoff

requested by my bestie @xmidnight-rain ily for always giving me things to write. halloween / fall drabbles with prompts from here. feel free to request any <3

Worn out silver Converse scuffed against the wet dirt, Peter’s footsteps heavy as he followed you through the graveyard. Not exactly the first place he would’ve chosen for a hang out but he’d follow you anywhere. It was ridiculous the hold you had on him. Whatever you said, he came running like some lost puppy. He supposed it was because you were the only person that really gave him the time of day. Everyone else put up with him but you actually listened and willingly seeked him out. Peter had never really had someone like that in his life so if you wanted to traipse through a graveyard during the middle of the night then who was he to say no?

He hadn’t been paying attention when you came to a stop, fingers playing around with the buttons on his walkman (making sure he hadn’t lost it or some ghoul hadn’t stolen it from him to jam out in the afterlife) instead of watching where he was going and he ended up walking straight into your back. “Oof,” he took a step back, the mud splashing over his favourite shoes. It was fine – he’d get his mom to clean them later. Just because he was an adult didn’t mean he couldn’t still rely on her. How was he supposed to know how to get dirt off a pair of Converse anyway?

“What we lookin’ at?” He asked, arms folded across his chest. His dark eyes adjusted to the dark, the dimly lit lamps in the graveyard doing nothing but casting an orange glow about the place. Before him stood a medieval stone looking building – small with carvings etched into it, the heavy door slightly ajar. He knew exactly what it was. A damn crypt. “Ah, hell nah.”

“Peter, come on! It’ll be fun,” you pleaded, your delicate fingers grasping at the bicep of his arms.

“No way. I’m all for a little late night stroll in a creepy graveyard, babe, but ain’t no way you’re getting my ass in that dank…” he leaned forward towards the door a little, taking a sniff. He backed off immediately, face scrunched up. “...stinky crypt. Who the hell knows what’s in there! Could be some murderers hiding out or… maybe whatever person died in there rose from the dead and turned into a zombie and all they’re waiting for is two dumbasses with small brains to take a casual wander inside. I am not going in there.”

“You scared?” You challenged him.

“Me, scared? Pfft,” he rolled his eyes, his voice giving him away. 

“What if I go in and you keep watch?”

“See, now I’m really startin’ to believe you’ve lost your mind. You think I’m about to let you roam around inside Dracula’s vacation home by yourself?” Despite the fact he so adamantly didn’t want to step a foot inside the place, he pulled the door open. “Fine but if we die, I’m haunting you for the rest of our undead life.”

You took the hand that he had outstretched for you, fingers lacing together as you pulled him inside. Peter was second guessing it the second the sole of his foot stepped down the first step but this was for you. And, unfortunately, he’d do anything for you.

tag list (ask to be added or removed): @xmidnight-rain @jazz-berry @lemoniiiiiii @juliamaximoff @honeymoon8 @lacucarachapisser @evanpetersbf (im forgetting ppl im so sorry just lemme know again <3)

[peachy-wolfhard]

just like heaven

Domestic life lawl, toge’s is mainly texting, sorry if u dont like the cure im goth and didnt know what other band to put

Includes in order: Megumi Fushiguro, Toge Inumaki, Yuta Okkotsu, Noritoshi Kamo

Warnings: food mention, halloween in noritoshi’s, one swear word, skeleton in the bath drinking a martini

It's finally starting to cool down. The once humid and sticky house was now cool and chilly, the rain outside growing louder and louder. The occasional lightning strike and thunder boom sends you cuddling closer and closer to your boyfriend.

“If you get any closer you're gonna be in my skin,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. 

“What do you want for dinner? I was thinking of ordering since we're being lazy today,” Megumi stretches his arms out, back arching off the bed and then flopping down with a groan.

“Mmm, fries,” wrapping yourself around him again as he orders dinner.

“Who’s gonna get it?” “Rock, paper scissors?” “sweet”

As you two play, best two out of three, the delivery driver knocks on the door. Taking the loss, Megumi opens the door.

----

If you have anything u want from da store lemme know pookie :3 lub u

Uhhh….hmmmmm.

Those noodles i rlly like and popcorn plzzzz :3 lub u too

WAIT!!!!! lemme get uhhhh those rlly fat apples

How many fat ass apples light of my life?

Oml i love u sm erm like 2 ! thank u babylub

I love U more. Be back soon !

“Stinky boy, I'm home!” you call out, setting the small amount of groceries down. Toge hops down the stairs, three at a time, his stomps echoing throughout the house.

“HONEY!” he shouts as he lunges for you, tackling you to the ground.

“Did you miss me?” “Salmon,” he hums nuzzling into your arm.

----

“When have you EVER wore this?” you shout from the closet, lifting up a gaudy hot pink and yellow Hawaiian shirt. Your boyfriend gets up from the floor, leaping over the massive ‘donate’ pile.

“OH! We cant get rid of this one,” Yuta explains, taking the shirt from your hand to look at fondly.

“This was the shirt Toge got me when we went on vacation!”

Yuta throws it in the ‘keep’ pile. Yuta goes back to his spot organizing the under the bed drawers. Turning on the TV, you start to play your joint playlist. Tossing Yuta the remote so he can change the song. Shuffling through the many songs, he stops on The Cure. Getting up Yuta joins you in the closet, asking to dance.

----

It was finally fall, despite being a month early you and your boyfriend were decorating for Halloween. Noritoshi thought it was a little early for halloween celebrations however.

“Love, the leaves aren't even falling yet. Don't you think we should wait a bit?" he calls, setting the ceramic light-up cat down.

“The calendar says it's fall so the Halloween decorations are going up,” calling back, setting the dancing Hello Kitty zombie in the entryway. Noritoshi playfully rolls his eyes and continues grabbing random items. Opening one of the many small boxes and unwrapping it, he reveals a small skeleton in a bathtub drinking a martini.

“Do we need to put him out this year? It’s uncomfortable seeing him when I'm taking a shower,” he tries to say, laughing every time he looks down at the skeleton.

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (24.2)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, polyamory, fluff, mentions of character's death

A/N: This is an interlude chapter.

Indecent Proposal (24)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

Now, the mansion…

“You promised to make things up to me,” you pout and give Steve the stinky eye. “Talk is cheap. I want your cocks.”

You wanted to go down and dirty, but Steve and Bucky wished to talk to you first. Now you’re sitting in the armchair at the library, Alpine in your lap, looking like a villain in a movie while patting the cat.

“You will have to make a lot up to me and Alpine,” you hold Bucky’s gaze. “You worried the poor cat. I had to brush their fur and give them a new necklace to calm the Alpine.”

Steve grins at your serious expression. “Doll, we are sorry about worrying you. And I will give you everything you want tomorrow. For tonight, we need to talk about a few things. We promised you to tell you everything.”

“We want nothing more than to ruin you all over again,” Bucky smirks when you start to squirm in your seat. “Steve is right, though. We need to talk about a few things, and after, we need a rest. It was a fucking long week.”

“You’re not hurt, right?” You look Bucky up and down before turning your head toward Steve. “Right? Everyone came home safely. All of your men too.”

“No one got hurt, doll,” Bucky assures you. “Our men know how to handle any situation. Jake localized Brock’s hideout, and we stormed the house. Not a big deal.”

You listen closely, hoping Bucky is telling you the truth. He gives you a soft smile and runs his hand over your head, but you won’t let him distract you this time.

“Is that the truth? We didn’t lose anyone. They are all safe,” you press on. “You won’t lie to me.”

“We swear, no one got hurt but the bastard trying to hurt you and our babies,” Steve softly says. He cups your face to press a kiss on your forehead. “They are having food at the moment. M’Baku was hungry.”

You giggle. M’Baku seems to be always hungry. Ever so often, you made a sandwich for the tall guy too when you sneaked into the kitchen for your nightly cravings.

He’s a giant, but a friendly one. M’Baku told you about his family and the woman he wants to marry. For a member of the mafia, he’s pretty nice.

You sigh, relieved. No one got hurt, everyone came back alive. The danger is over. – For now. You never know. In your husband's line of business, you’ll never not be in danger. They have enemies lurking in the dark, waiting for their chance to get back at Steve and Bucky.

“I want to know it all,” you say. “No more secrets, Steve, Bucky. Please fill me in. I need to know.”

“We killed Rumlow and disposed of his body,” Bucky hastily says. He hopes you do not hate him for killing another man in your name. “He died faster than he deserved.”

“He won’t cause trouble ever again,” Steve clears his throat. He can see the worry in your eyes and tries to assure you no one will ever find out Bucky killed Brock. “Natasha helped cover his death. We made it look like he left town because Natasha found out that he was a corrupt cop. Jake was a big help. Remind me to never mess with Jake Jensen.”

“Jakie is a sweetheart,” you coo. “He distracted me with zombies and explained to me how he hacks into a system.”

“Zombies?” Bucky grunts. “He showed you zombies. Is that a code word for his dick?” He cocks a brow. “Doll, answer me.”

“No, dummy,” you giggle and snort. “He designed a video game. There are zombies, and guns…and stuff. It’s pretty cool. Jake is a smart guy. You should pay him more.”

Steve laughs at his husband’s pissed expression. He can’t bear sharing your attention with someone else but Steve. Bucky hums and plans on having a serious conversation with Jake in the morning.

“Don’t put, Bucky baby,” you hold out your hand for Bucky. “You know I already got my hands full with you and Stevie. I cannot handle another man. Jake is only a nice guy helping not to worry about you.”

“Fine,” Bucky still pouts, but promises you to not hurt Jake.

“How about we forget about Brock and everything else for tonight and,” you smirk at Steve, “in the morning, you can make things up to me…”

Part 25

Tags in reblog.

[waters-and-the-wilde]

juno: nureyev’s adorable, because we all care about slip but his way is very sweet and genuine, and the rest of our family is like:

juno, scooping slip under the armpits and holding him up: stinky

nureyev: noooooo! don’t be mean!

juno, swaying him back and forth: slippery bastard man

jet, not looking up from chopping vegetables: naughty boy. brat zombie

nureyev, distraught: NOOOOOOO

[thebearme]

Got any re8 Heisenberg headcanons? (I definitely am so normal about him)

Don't worry, I'm completely normal about him too.

Ethan works with Karl to stop Miranda, but they aren't exactly friends after that, but they learn to like each other.

Chris was originally was going to put Karl into the military as a living bioweapon, but with enough convincing. Ethan got him to just let stay with him and Rose. They're roommates now.

Karl is thankful for Ethan to help him avoid that fate, but he is still frustrated on how his life is in someone's hand. Now he has to listen to Ethan or run the risk of being killed or weaponized. So the anger is the living arrangement is mutual.

Karl tends to be untrusting of everyone, like a feral stray dog. So Karl stays in the basement and minds his business.

Ethan and Mia had a mutual divorce, The relationship was built on rocky ground, and they understand that. But what Mia doesn't understand is why Ethan would have this moldy hobo live with him, and frankly- he doesn't know either.

Karl was a stinky man. His hands are rough and dry, chipped sharp nails that seem to always have something underneath them despite that fact of him wearing gloves most of the time. He covered in a layer of grease, sweat and car oil, smells like copper, gasoline, sweat, cigars, rain dew and a hint of mold and rot. LOVEY ISN'T IT! A sensory overload dream. His hair WILL make a crunchy noise if touched, and don't bother trying to comb through it.

Ethan made sure that his mf got a shower with some actual soap. He may look the same but trust in the fact if you were in a room with him, you'll actually be able to hug him without getting high from the gasoline.

Karl's hair gets so fluffy when conditioned.

It took months before Ethan trusted Karl in watching Rose or let alone hold her.

Karl LOVES sweets.

He originally didn't know about Home Depot because Ethan was worry that there will quickly be no Home Depot.

There's no longer a Home Depot.

Heisenberg will melt when he hears Rose's first words.

The day that Heisenberg finds out what a Samsung fridge is- IT'S OVER!

Heisenberg lived off of military ration meals till now, so he has to resort to the next best thing here: hungry man TV dinners. And kid cuisine when Rose goes into solid food.

HE CAN COOK! To be particular, grill. But he's kinda going through that depression that led you to not take care of himself.

Karl HATES the rain, It rusts all his metal, and he is in content risk of getting struck by lightning, He's a living lightning rod. Ethan tries to be nice and help him by giving him a rubber rain suit, leading him to wear three layers of protection: fishing overalls, rain boots, raincoat, rubber gloves, rain hat and a rubber poncho.

You can hear him from a mile away with all that rubber squeaking.

Heisenberg surprisingly was a virgin for a long time, and it makes sense. He was too busy in his factory to be with anyone romantically nor platonically, let alone get laid. He never really cared till he thought about it now, especially when Ethan has living proof that he fucked. *CUT TO FUNNY KARL SPEED DATING SEQUENCE* this is probably a very sharp contrast to others hc of karl but idc it's my hc

Heisenberg and Ethan have that opposite attract dynamic, Karl gets to teach him that life doesn't end or need to be tense just because they're mole zombies. While Ethan teaches Karl to unpack his years trauma, cuz that shit will come to haunt you.

Ethan found some room for Heisenberg to sleep upstairs instead.

Eventually Ethan gets so close with Heisenberg he actually starts calling him by his first name.

That was noticed by Mia and Chris, which made them nervous in where Ethan loyalty would lie when something were to happen.

Heisenberg never had clean water before, so just imagine him with the crisp 3am water.

Chris only allows Karl to experience the outside monthly. But Ethan sneaks Karl with him when he can. As long, he doesn't scare anyone in town.

Karl is like a caveman entering the present day, He's culture shock is out of this world.

He loves the phrase "metal as fuck."

When Karl has a nightmare he rearrange his room to push all the metal out or nap in the living room. When Karl and Ethan got closer he started sleeping in Ethan's room. Even though their hearts beat slow, the human warmth is still there.

Karl never wants to talk about what his nightmare was about or why he feels better sleeping in a room with less metal.

Here some songs that I always relate to Heisenberg:

Now I'm about to go into what my hc is for Heisenberg before re8.

tw body horror and child abuse

I have the headcanon that Karl wasn't from the village, but his family was. He was born in the states and unknowingly has the genes that make him very susceptible to the mold mutation. Eventually, after his grandfather died and passed the factory/mines to his parents, they all moved to Europe. Explaining the contrasting transatlantic accent.

But like all things, Miranda had to ruin. She noticed the newcomers of the village; she saw how they also have a child and decided to take action. Miranda killed Karl Heisenberg's parents and took him in to experiment on with the cadou parasite.

His gift was unknown till one check up later after all of his complaints of feeling of something tearing into him. Miranda realized that there seems to be scraps of metal like nuts and bolts dug and tear through into his body to his bones like a magnet.

When he's in is REM sleep, his electromagnet powers moves and attract scraps of metal to him. Leaving him to wake up with blood on his sheets, but the wound already healed like nothing happened. But Karl does know it feels harder to move every day.

Miranda made sure to test him on his gift. He looks completely human and is powerful, he was almost perfect… The one single flaw in him is the fact that even as a helpless child that had no one else to rely on but her. He still hated her.

Heisenberg was the youngest of the four lords and the favorite, and he hated it. Dude would just spend all his time by himself, leaving himself tape recorders. He eventually started to entertain himself as if he was a radio host. The theater kid possesses him.

Eventually when he got older he got into contact with The Duke and was able to purchase tapes and machinery scraps from him. The tapes turned out to be American documents of ww2, leading Heisenberg to his American freedom fighter rhetoric.

When he detransform from his big monster form, he has to go get a lil help. He has to get rid of the pieces of metal without just tearing off pieces of his flesh, That shit is hard to grow back you know!

[lagncx]

stink bomb kisses

Astarion x zombie reader

• In the heat of battle astarion brings out a zombie to help his comrades

• you were the zombie brought back ready to defend your new purpose, Astarion!

•After the battle and you surviving Astarion can’t help but adore you. Like a lil puppy that follows him around. It could be because he has someone to control but also just cause why not show off a zombie freind

• you don’t mind, in fact your super smart. Minded you stumble over words or drop your tongue through the rotting holes of your jaw sometimes so you get a bit tongue tied but astarion has been re-educating you on pronunciation with your tongue twister situation.

•Some of you is still there like your brain and your drop dead good looks. Just a bit green and stinky

• sometimes When following Astarion to a camp gathering Gale or well…most of the time it will always be gale who asks “Astarion why are you keeping the damn zombie around?” And Astarion will scoff “Their name is <❤️> and you will respect them. Ain’t that right darling you tell mean ol gale you are a person too. And after looking between the two you let out a little grunt nodding your head to which Astarion crosses his arms and lifts his chin smirking in victory at Gale

• the others were nice though they wanted you to stay far away. The smell was getting pretty~ badddd…but you thought it was fine cause Halsin would make you necklaces. He said “here’s a necklace with mint and eucalyptus. It’ll uh-…give you luck” and you felt so good you gave him a hug. Squeezed so hard the indent of his clothes had been on your soft…decomposing skin for a while

• Astarion though he loves you does not kiss you. He loves his knight so much but not that much. Honestly the relationship between you is seen as a queen and attack dog. But after learning to speak Astarion and you will always have conversations especially when he’s feeling paranoid about Cazador sending people to capture him.

• “awe stink. You have it easy, you’re already dead and well…your you.” He said taking the needle with the black thread and stitching the deep tear in your jaw that was hanging on by a thread your drool dripping out onto the dirt ground under you with soft plops. “I have all these strong freinds but it’s like I’m a huge risk. What if they lose their lives trying to protect me. Maybe I’m putting a burden on everyone.” He chuckled “Weird of me to feel guilty for using people as protection.” He said but looked up at you the way your glossy eyes focused on the night sky above you both. He sighed “Guess I should say I’m sorry for turning you into some zombie lap dog.” He frowned cutting the thread and letting his hands rest in his lap. You looked at him “I’ll always…protect astarion. Alive…or not.” You groaned “Your a good luck star…nobody gets to hurt you.” Astarion just sighs and blows a kiss your way and you do it back the whiff of your rot throwing him off only for a second.

•When astarion falls in love with someone you’re there watching. Seeing the way they kiss and hug….though you only focused on how he was so happy. Finding someone to make him happy and feel safe. More than you ever could. Plus who were you kidding you’re a zombie. It could never work out. You felt your cold still heart break.

• Astarion searched every where for you. He was planning on saying goodbye and getting rid of you. Seeing how slow and unfocused you were during fights recently. He felt you were old and tired to throw in the towel

•Astarion found you just the same when he brought you back. A pile of viscera. Astarion cried for hours he wasn’t able to say goodbye.

•u died of a broken heart.

hiii this is acc brain dump thought of it from something I forgot but yeaaa. Enjoy it I hope you guys mess with my first headcanons post

[skzhua]

We Going For the Win

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female!Reader

Genre: Zombie Apocalypse!AU, fluff, bit of angst. (The Last of Us vibes)

Word Count: 9,982

Warnings: Violence, swearing, mentions of sex/death/killing, drinking. (Not proofread yet!)

Summary: While being in quest of finding your childhood friend you have lost contact with ever since the start of the infection, your ex fling and ex smuggling partner involves you in a difficult situation. New friends and difficulties are waiting for you.

A/N: Might do a part 2 or leave it as it is... I don't know yet.

"Here." the man simply said while dropping the bag on the table in front of you.

He gestured at his men to open the door behind you as a way to inform you this little meeting was over. However, you didn't budge.

Instead, you took the bag to see the content of it, and frowned. "The deal was 10 silvers and a pack of cigarettes."

"No, no. The deal was 10 silvers and a pack of cigarette if you did the job correctly."

"Which I did."

He started to laugh before taking another shot of whiskey. "I asked you to steal the radio and get SKZ's location from them. You only got the radio. Therefore, you only get the cigarettes."

"You're kidding, right?"

He shrugged, fiddling around with his glass. Not answering your question, he poured himself another drink. Before he could bring it to his lips, you took his glass harshly from his grasp and threw it accross the room.

"What the fuck, woman!" he shouted angrily.

"You fucking asked me an impossible task, plus bringing you a most likely broken radio from the restricted area, made me infiltrate a fucking government base to steal infos and you're thanking me with fucking cigarettes." You slamed the bag in front of him, giving him a glare. "The deal included 10 silvers. I want them."

"Sweetheart, you know it doesn't work like this." he chuckled with a smug smile on his face.

You shut your eyes in disgust of the infamous nickname he gave you. "Don't fuck with me, give me the silvers."

He got up from his seat and signaled to his men to shut the door. The already stinky room was filled by the alcohol's odor, making you want to puke. How could this man drink so many shots without being dead already?

He paused a moment, looking at the ground, before he spoke again. "Do you want to find your little friend or not?"

"What does this have to do with this?"

"Y/N, I know you want the silvers to go across the country to find your friend. That is if he isn't infected yet, of course. What I'm saying is, there is a reason I'm not giving you those silvers."

"That's what this is about? About you not losing your best dealer?"

He laughed, again. "At least you know you're the best. Not only that but we have helped each other so much in the last six years. You're like a daughter to me, I'd hate to see something bad happen to you."

You smiled sarcastically. "And yet, you've sent me away to die thousands of times just so I could do the job for you."

"Because you are the best I have." he pointed out again.

You were getting tired of this. Frankly, you just wanted to get the damn silvers and go to bed. However, you knew the man and he wouldn't let you have what you wanted so easily. With that in mind, you seemed to have only but one option to get out of this.

"Alright then. I guess I'm not leaving today." you sighed, standing up from your chair. "I do want one thing if I don't get the money." He stepped closer with a curious look on his face. "I want to know if Changbin ever sends something on this radio."

He smiled. "Done deal." You nodded before heading towards the door. "And Y/N?"

You stopped on your tracks, rolling your eyes. "What?"

"I better see you tomorrow morning, I have another job for you."

Ignoring him, you resumed your way to the exit. Once outside, the sirens couldn't be any louder. In all of places, you had to be at the worst safe haven of the country where only dealers, smugglers, thiefs and many others lived. You were grateful your uncle was renowned enough for the other rebellious groups to leave you alone, but that also meant you had to do all of his work for him. If not, you were dead meat for sure.

When you arrived at your half torn down apartment, you jumped as soon as you walked in, as you were welcomed by an unannounced man sitting on your couch.

"Yeonjun, what the fuck?" you shouted, closing the door behind you. "I told you to not fucking burst into my place randomly like that."

"I know, but I kind of had nowhere else to go."

This was enough said for you to know he got in trouble, again. "Who was it this time? Beomgyu? Taehyun?" you asked while serving yourself a beer, offering one to your former partner.

He took the bottle and drank from it before talking. "Soobin."

You frowned. "I thought he was off to the west zone."

"So we thought, but turns out he had an encounter with SKZ, and he's been taken hostage. We tried to free him, but fucking stupid Beomgyu crashed into a pole and now all of them are taken away."

"And why are you here?"

He rolled his eyes. "To ask you for your help, obviously."

"No, I know that. But why are you not with them?"

"I jumped out of the car before it crashed. Hid until they all left and came here as soon as it was clear."

You shook your head in disbelief. "No matter how much I'm trying to cut you off from my life, you're still going to involve me in your stupid schemes."

"You're quite literally the best fighter, sniper, liar and also the prettiest I know."

You almost choked on your drink from his words. "We're not going to fuck again, Yeonjun. Stop with the flirting."

He held his hands up. "It was just a joke, relax. But for real, I really need your help."

"I don't deal with SKZ."

"They're just another gang, what's the big deal?"

"They're not feared by the whole country for no reason. I support their whole rebellion shit, but they're taking it a bit far."

SKZ were an anonymous group of rebels. When more people were starting to get infected, the government put the country in war mode. They established curfews, safe zones, duties, everything they could have control on anything that you could think of. As the years passed, they started to like this kind of power, meaning they did close to no research on a cure. Groups against the new regime started to form, but the most well-known of them was SKZ. Apparently, they were formed in the south part of the country, the area with the most infected. They ravaged headquarters, gathered information about the virus so their team could study them in order to find a cure. They had great intentions, but anyone on their way would be one of their victims. And that now included your ex-fling and smuggling partner's own gang.

"Y/N, please."

"No, I saved your butt enough times." You walked to your room and he followed you behind, still bombarding you with 'help me', 'this one time', 'please'... "I said no!" you grunted, closing the door on his face.

You dropped on your bed, sore from your morning task. As you were already starting to doze off, a creek from your door did not allow you to go to sleep just yet.

"Yeonjun, go away." you mumbled, eyes still closed.

The man didn't listen and sat next to your laid down body on the bed. "What if I say I can help you find Changbin?"

Your eyes shot open and you stared at Yeonjun. "Don't." you warned.

"Y/N, I swear I'm not kidding. I know where he is."

"How? You barely go outside of the limits."

"Just... Trust me on this one." he spoke softly. "Look, we've had our ups and downs and I understand how unreliable I am to you. There is one thing that I can assure you, and that is I never would mess with you with this. I know how much it means to you."

He took your hand in his and gave you one last pleading look. You were hesitant. You didn't know if you could trust him, but at this point, who could you really trust? Plus, Yeonjun has always been around. Even if he was a pain in the ass, he might be the only recurrent person in your life other than your uncle and his deals.

"If I learn this is a whole fucking joke-"

"I swear it's not!"

"But if it is... you owe me 1000 silvers, a car and your dead body." you smiled.

"So, you're going to help me?" he stared at you in shock.

"Yeah, sure. As if I have anything better to do."

As you were making your way up the ladder, you couldn't ignore the undistinguished noises Yeonjun was making as he was following you closely.

"Can you shut up?" you half-whispered.

"I didn't know you were thinking of leaving during the night. There is a fucking curfew, Y/N. You know what that means? Agents everywhere and going against the law!" he whispered back quite aggressively. "Also, how the fuck do you know the way to the other side from the sewers?"

"Okay, first of all, a curfew means no one's outside. Less chances of getting spotted. Second of all, we've gone against the law so many times, I don't get why you think it's a problem now. And third of all." you stopped climbing and stared down at him. "I've been outside the limits a few times. Now, are we done? Can we just move and get there before it's morning?"

Yeonjun's eyes went wide as he shook his head in yes. "My bad..."

Satisfied, you continued to climb up. When you finally reached the lid of the manhole, you pushed it up carefully, staying alert in case there would be agents on duty close by. Once you made sure it was clear, you pushed the lid so you could get out. You helped out Yeonjun and you both pushed the lid back into its place.

"Alright, so are you sure they went to District 9?" you whispered.

"For the nth time, yes." he said with annoyance.

"How are you so sure?"

"Dude, I heard them loud and clear."

"They might have said this to trick you?"

"Y/N, focus!"

You tried to remember the quickest way to the fences. Agents were everywhere, and what bothered you the most was Yeonjun not being the most careful, as he kept questioning you on why you knew how to get out.

Finally, you reached a part of the fences that surrounded the city. Yeonjun gasped in amazement, much to your discouragement. Sighing, you headed towards the underground tunner that some kids had dug a few days ago.

"Go first."

Nodding, Yeonjun followed your orders. Once he was on the other side, you copied his action and, soon enough, you both had crossed the limits. Once you got to the other side, you could already feel how different it was from the build closed community. The air was much heavier and actual forms of life were rare. There was already an infected who spotted you, who signaled to his other infect friend there was a meal for them.

"Shit." you muttered.

The monster was already running in your direction, and fast. You took a bar of metal that was randomly (and conveniently) lying at your feet, and you ran to it before swinging your weapon to his head, ripping it off its body. The second infected was next to head toward you and you instinctively pierced the bar through it, making it drop on the ground. When you turned back to check on Yeonjun, he could only stare at you with wide eyes and his breath unsteady.

"Now what?" he gulped.

"Follow me." you said, running towards an old building, visibly abandoned.

Only, it was just that. Visibly abandoned. As soon as you turned the corner, you were met with a bunch of men, four of them, masks hiding the bottom half of their faces while pointing guns at you.

"Fuck." Yeonjun said in a low tone while holding his hands up in the air.

"We were waiting for you." one of the men spoke.

"Oh, so them saying they would be in District 9 wasn't a trap?" you sarcastically asked Yeonjun, pettiness overflowing.

"I was convinced they didn't see me." he said in defense.

"We didn't." the man talked again. "But we knew you were there. Now, mind to follow us?"

"Okay, so now y'all are being polite?" Yeonjun scoffed and you kicked his leg. "Fine, let's follow them bluntly, I guess."

The men led you inside the building, holding onto your arms with guns still pointing at you. This was the exact reason you wanted nothing to do with SKZ, they could catch anyone and they were not afraid to use the weapons they had.

After walking endlessly in a hallway, you reached an elevator. You were surprised it was still functional, as most of the things in the infected zones were destroyed. Once the doors shut, one of the men pushed the button to the basement. Of course, it was the basement. You would've thought they'd be more original with where they kept their hostages.

"Are we meeting your big boss?" you asked in a joking tone.

"You're joining your friends." one responded.

When the doors opened, you didn't waste a second to take the gun from the man who was grabbing your arm, twisting it so he would let go. Hitting him on the head, he fell onto the ground. Meanwhile, Yeonjun copied you and also managed to disarm two other men. As for the last one, he held his gun to you.

"Don't waste my time, give me the gun." you said boringly.

He glanced at his friends on the ground, who were massaging their heads from the hits, and they all seemed to be in agreement to just let you be. They knew the others would take care of the both of you, anyway. You took the gun and didn't hesitate to give him a good punch in the face, making him fall next to his friends.

"Let's go." you nodded your head to Yeonjun.

As he was walking by your side, he started rambling again. "That, right there, was fucking awesome! There was a reason why I came to you for help. If it was someone else, I'm sure I'd probably be-"

"Dead? Yeah, well, you'll be if you don't shut up." you whispered loudly.

By the end of the hallway, you could see a large closed door that was seemingly locked. Pretty convinced it was where they detained the others, you made your way to it.

"I guess that's it." you mumbled.

When you reached it, you searched in your bag to see if you had anything that could help you open the door. Noticing you were short in terms of tools, you figured Yeonjun brought something that might be useful.

"Got something?" you asked, but when there was no response, you looked around and Yeonjun was nowhere to be found. "Jun?" you called out.

Just then you were suddenly tackled onto the ground. You met eyes with a young man with freckles.

"You don't look like an SKZ member to me. Who are you?" he asked, restraining you as you tried to push him off.

"Doesn't matter." you managed to breathe out.

"It does to us."

"I guess you'll have to find out another day."

Kicking him in his lower abdomen, you freed yourself and grabbed your knife from you bag. When you were about to throw it to the boy, a hand grabbed your arm, stopping your motion. The stranger twisted your wrist, loosening your grip on the knife. He took it from you and inspected it for a bit.

"Felix, go see if Minho, Jeongin, Hyunjin and Seungmin are fine." he said, his voice low.

The freckled boy, now up onto his feet, nodded and headed to the elevator you were previously coming down from.

"I didn't expect Yeonjun to bring a friend." he said, now talking to you.

He led you to the door you were trying to open not even 2 minutes ago. In contrary of what you thought, it was a simple empty room with a single lamp as its source of light. He threw you to the ground and closed the door behind him. He sighed loudly before walking to you, crouching down to be at your level.

"Now, as my friend asked. Who are you?" You only stared at him, not a sound slipping from your mouth. "Do you know why we took your friends?" No answer. "Why are you here?"

"For no reason, just to enjoy a different environment I guess, just like y'all do."

He didn't expect you to answer this time. "Looks like you don't know much about us, sweetheart."

You cringed at the nickname. Hearing it from someone other than your uncle was odd. Even just hearing it from your uncle was uncomfortable.

"Maybe I don't. Honestly, I don't give a fuck about who you are." You crossed your arms and gave him a bored look.

"Maybe you don't. Still, I think a little introduction can be helpful. I'm Christopher Bang, leader of SKZ." Unfazed, you were still staring at him. "And you are?"

"Tired and annoyed."

He chuckled at your answer. "I like you." He stood up and started to walk back and forth in the room. "I shall contimue then. SKZ is a group of rebels, as people call us, whose purpose is to take down the government's new policy in order to restore some sort of purpose among the population. We're also trying to find a cure for the infection and we, as you might have seen, have many people against us. Your friends were trying to get to our secret base to steal a drug we use during our experiments. They wanted to sell it to make profit off of it."

"Sounds like them." you huffed.

He smiled at your comment. "We've dealt with TXT before, but you're a new one. I've never seen you, I believe."

"Like I said, I literally don't give a fuck about y'all. I just do my thing on my side."

"Then, why are you here?"

"Ask Yeonjun."

Sighing at your lack of engagement in the conversation, he stopped walking around to turn his body to face you. "You took out half of my squad back in the elevator, I want to know who I'm dealing with."

Half? All this time, you thought SZK had hundreds of members around the country. There were eight of them? This new information was surprising, to say the least.

"Sweetheart?" he called out since you were not answering him.

"How-"

You were interrupted when the door opened. When your gaze shifted towards the door to see who had joined, your met eyes with the person you least expected to see. For a moment, you felt as if time had stopped as you exchanged looks.

"Bin?" you breathed out, your heart pounding.

There stood, alive and well, Changbin. "Holy fuck! What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, running to hold you into his arms.

His embrace was warm and felt like home. After so many years, you felt at ease and tears were streaming down your face.

"Where the fuck were you? I searched for you everywhere." you cried out.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm here now, it's all good."

When you finally let go of him, he turned to Chris, who was clearly confused on what was happening. "Care to explain, Changbin?"

"She's her. She's Y/N."

Holding the ice pack to his head, Minho was mumbling some curses, still sore from your attacks.

"I'm sorry." you said shyly and he nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"So, Y/N." Chris started. "Can we do this interrogation again, please?"

You had moved to a small office, Minho tagging along. With knowing that Changbin was there, you felt more relaxed. However, it didn't stop you from being on your guard. Changbin might be a friend you've been looking for in the past 6 years, but him being part of SKZ changed things a little. You couldn't fully trust those men.

"Sure."

"Good. Who are you?"

"I'm Y/N. Been pretty much alone since everything started. I was a neighbour of Changbin and we grew up together. He was my closest friend. I've been trying to find him ever since the walls have been put up." you said, keeping it honest, but short.

"What I'm getting from this is that you're against the government as well?" he asked and you nodded. "Why were you with TXT?"

"I'm only here because Yeonjun quite literally begged me to help him get his friends. I didn't ask questions, I just wanted the job done."

"There was something in exchange?"

You paused, hesitantly, but nodded. "He said he knew where Changbin was."

From your answer, he got up and walked out of the room, leaving you and Minho alone. You smiled awkwardly at the man, who gave you a glare, still pissed at your previous encounter.

Outside, Chris had joined Changbin and Felix to talk. He didn't know what to do with you, and something was stopping from either releasing you, or finishing you off.

"Changbin." he called out and the man immediately focused his attention on his leader. "You know her. So, what's her deal?"

"I can't know for sure, I haven't seen her in years. She is colder than before, for sure. I doubt she is lying, though, but I can't be certain."

"Okay. What do I do with her? She might be lying and has tried to steal something from us."

"Honestly, Chan, I'd give her the benefit of the doubt." Changbin said.

With that, he went back to the office, encountering a rather uncomfortable silence between you and Minho. He coughed a bit before sitting back in front of you.

"Do you have any reason we should believe you?" Chan asked, continuing the interrogation.

"I'm repeating myself, but I quite don't care about what y'all do, and I am not fond of the authorities either."

"A reason we shouldn't believe you?"

"There are many, but one is that you don't know me."

"Your relationship with Yeonjun?"

"He used to work with me... and sleep with me."

"Have you crossed roads with any infected?"

"Two on our way here. I killed both."

"Did you get bitten?"

"Do you see a mark?

"No..." he trailed off.

This kept going for while, and Chan was strarting to be very precise with his questions, as he was wondering why you were on your own and why were you looking so desperately for Changbin. Until then, you were short with your responses, much to Chan's dislike. After a while, Minho, who had been observing the interraction this whole time, stepped forward to take the seat next to you.

Interrupting the conversation, he grunted in annoyance. "Chan, she seems fine to me. Can you just let her go? We're wasting time here."

"No wait." Chan paused, inspecting your traits. "I have some questions, concerning your skills."

"My skills?" you said, confused. "I think you saw them."

"I just know you knocked out my members, killed two infected, do some stupid deals in the city and fucked Yeonjun." he summed up while giving you a blank stare.

"Fucking is a skill?" you scoffed.

"I'm just repeating what you said, sweetheart. Now, skills?"

"I fight, I kill, I spy, I steal, I negociate and I lie." you listed and your last point seemed to grab Chan's attention. "Also, I don't owe shit to anyone."

"Have you thought of joining a group?"

"I told you, I'm on my own."

"But do you like it this way?"

You thought for a moment. Did you? "Yes."

Chan laughed and shook his head. "You're not so much of a good liar there, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes. "Let's say I do fine alone but being alone can be rough at times."

Minho whined loudly once more. Not only did he have to listen to this whole pointless conversation, but he had to suffer from the tension happening between you and Chris, and he had to see his leader ask a hundred questions before getting to the point. It was very unlikely him, who would usually not bother talk and kill those who are on his path. With you, however, it seemed more like a game. It might be a fun one when in it, but Minho was done observing.

"He's asking you to join SKZ." Minho spilled out, going straight to the point.

"Thank you, Minho." Chan said, giving his friend a death stare.

Thinking about it, being on SKZ's good sad wasn't too bad of an idea. They are great fighters and took care of their business quickly, from what you've heard. Nonetheless, you still had your friends in mind, who remained detained at the moment. If joining the infamous rebels meant you could get them out, you might be able to help them out, after all.

"What do I have in exchange?" you asked, which took Chan by surprise.

"You would join us?"

You shrugged. "Depends on the offer."

"Of course, you'd ask something in return." Chan shook his head. "What do you want?"

"Release my friends. And give Yeonjun 1k silvers, he needs it. Also, I want to choose my own weapons and I still want to be able to do my uncle's deals. Last thing, I want to talk with Changbin, alone."

Chan looked at you curiously. You didn't ask anything for yourself, except talking with Changbin. For a world nearing its end, you were surprisingly selfless.

"Deal."

Yeonjun came to visit you a few days after. He thanked you a thousand times for what you had done for him but you weren't so happy with how things turned out. While you were close to punching Chan in the face, your friend had been nothing but grateful to the man.

"He really wanted to kill us, you know?"

You rolled your eyes while sharpening the knife you were gifted earlier that day. "I'm literally the one who saved you, but sure. Thank Chan for being such a good person."

Yeonjun frowned, hearing your tone. "You don't sound too fond of him."

"I asked for a moment with Changbin, and he still hasn't allowed me to stay in a room alone with him. It's almost been a week."

"You tend to be impatient-"

"I've waited for six years, Jun." you cut him off, pointing the knife at him. "I am patient, but I have limits."

He lifted his hands up in defense and sighed as you went back to sharpening. The building was so quiet, it was almost sickening. While you thought there would be more action in the group, there was almost nothing to do. Seungmin and Minho were in charge of looking into a cure and the remaining of them were mostly simply guarding the place. As for Chan, he and Changbin were nowhere to be seen.

"Do you know why he joined them?" Yeonjun asked.

"That's exactly what I'm wondering myself."

Just then, Felix walked in the room and took the seat next to Yeonjun, waving at you two. You nodded your head at him and focused back on the blade. Twirling it around, you sighed in boredom.

"Doing some training?" Felix asked.

"No, there's just nothing to do in this shithole." you deadpanned at him. "Weren't you on the lookout?"

"Changbin took over."

You huffed in disbelief. "It's as if Chris is doing everything in his power for me to not meet him."

"He will let you two talk eventually." he assured. "He's still on his guard with you, that's all."

"Sure." you spat out as you got up on your feet.

"What are you doing?" Yeonjun frowned, Felix having the same expression.

"I'm going to talk with Chan." you declared, walking towards the exit.

The boys didn't seem opposed to your idea, so they let you leave, although Felix did look more concerned. You had no idea where Chan could be. The building was so huge, you were barely starting familiarize yourself with the ground level. You soon spotted Hyunjin from afar and didn't waste a moment to run to him.

"Hey, Y/N." he smiled, his eyes almost closing.

"Do you know where Chan is?"

Startled by your lack of courtesy, he nodded his head nonetheless as he pointed to a door nearby.

"Thanks." you said as you left him there.

"He's with Seungmin, just saying." he yelled out but you ignored him.

You stormed into the room and the two men at your sudden entrance. While Seungmin got up with his gun pointing at you, Chan reached his hand out to him as a way to tell him to lower his weapon. You stared at him, unimpressed. He motioned for Seungmin to leave the two of you alone. As the door closed, he invited you to sit with him.

"What is it?"

You looked at him, baffled. "That's it? What is it? I know you know."

He nodded. "Changbin, isn't it?"

"Obviously..."

He shrugged. "What about him?"

"Stop messing with me, Chris." you warned, getting up to lean on the desk to get closer to him.

Sighing heavily, his shoulders dropped in defeat. Without adding another word, he stood up and gestured for you to follow him. You were skeptical of how easy it had been to convince him but didn't say anything about it. If you were just about to get what you wanted, there was no way you'd complain.

Chan made you follow for a good ten minutes. Turning left and right, going up and down the stairs... you were almost scared of getting lost. It was all worth it in the end, though. As soon as he opened the door to the rooftop, you spotted Changbin who wasn't doing much other than playing around with his gun.

"Bin." you called out and the man in question turned around, seemingly taken aback from your presence.

You mouthed a small "thank you" to Chris who answered with a quick nod before leaving, closing the door behind him. You let out a sigh of relief and went to go hug your old friend. As Changbin was still on duty, he returned the embrace coldly as he was watching around the building.

"What are you doing here? I thought Yeonjun was visiting you today." he asked.

"Fuck Yeonjun, I've seen enough of his face. What about you? I've nearly said a word to you since I arrived."

He chuckled, visibly still fond of you. "You haven't changed."

You shrugged, fully knowing you weren't the same person he once knew. "I guess I kept some of my old mannerisms."

He nodded slowly before looking to the view of the city you had. A moment of silence felt both good and torturous. He was right there, just next to you, and you weren't talking still.

"So? How did you get here?" you said, breaking the ice.

"Wow, going straight to the point." he laughed. "I don't know. After the evacuation, I was pretty much on my own. I still have no idea where my family is, if I'm being honest. About five years ago, I had a quibble with Han. It was over some food or whatever, I don't remember. Anyway, I beat him but it was cold that night so he offered to go back to his hideout. And that's when I met Chris. The guy saved our lives, I've never met someone quite like him."

You hummed as he finished. You were as much worried as he was about finding family and such. And that's what he was to you, family. The exact reason why you've been wanting to find him for so long. He was your comfort place, your home. Someone who had been there for you far more than your actual family.

"No." he spoke again. "He actually reminds me of you at times."

Seeing the knowing smile on his face, you cleared your throat as you grew uncomfortable. "So you thought of me..."

"Obviously. You were my closest friend."

Nostalgia hitting you right in the face, you smiled sadly to yourself. "These were the good days."

"They were. How did you even survive on your own, anyway? Six years alone, it must have been rough."

You could hear the worry in his voice which you almost took as an insult. You are small and lanky for sure, but you have always managed to do everything by yourself and with success.

"I was with my uncle for the first year before I ran away. I believe I was alone for about two years, which wasn't that hard. I made contacts everywhere and it became pretty handy. Then my uncle found me and we've been having this thing going on ever since. I do his deals and he pays me." you explained.

Changbin scoffed. "He's still around?"

You nodded. "After my dad got infected, he was pretty much all I had left. Except for you, who I have tried to contact for the past couple of years." you said, sending him a glare.

He held his hands up in defense. "It's not my fault SKZ is a secret organization. I would've put the whole team in danger if I answered your radio signals."

You crossed your arms on your chest. "A little sign of life would've been nice, though."

"Please, Y/N. I'm sorry, okay?"

A loud explosion nearby cut the conversation short. Looking to where it came from, you saw Felix and Jeongin hiding behind a wall while a crowd of infected people ran towards them. They had seemingly threw a bomb at them but it was clearly uneffective. Instinctively, you took Changbin's gun and went ahead with shooting the monsters who were the closest to the boys. Jeongin took a moment to spot you before nodding his head as a sign of thank you. While you continued to shoot, he grabbed Felix and rushed him to a building further away.

"Changbin, Y/N!" Yeonjun's voice said as it came from the door Chris had previously gone through. "The building's not safe anymore, come with me."

You rushed to follow him and walked down the stairs to get to a level where you could jump to the building beside. Changbin took his gun back and made sure to beat any infected with whom you'd come upon.

"Are Seungmin and Minho alright with the cure? And Chris-"

"They're all fine, now's not the time." Yeonjun shut you up.

A couple of levels later, you left the staircase to go find a window wide enough to go through. As it seemed to be a quieter place, you allowed yourself to calm down and take a look around. It resembled an old office room where workers would type all day about whatever.

"I never came here." Changbin informed.

"We didn't necessarily need this space anyway." Chris said as he walked in the room, limping slightly. "I've gotten everyone out, it's just us now."

"Where are the others?" you asked.

Chris let out a grunt from the pain his leg was causing but still took the time to answer you. "I don't know but we have a meeting point. We'll find each other again eventually. It is a shame, though, this place has been the longest settlement we've had so far."

"Oh, fuck." Yeonjun cursed before running to the doors, shutting them closed. "We don't have much time and the way to the next building isn't that simple."

"What do you mean?"

Changbin pointed to the hole in the wall. "It leads to a balcony. The plank of wood there can be our bridge."

You went ahead and helped him get the piece of wood, trying your best to get it out as soon as possible. Meanwhile, Yeonjun was trying his best to keep the door closed but as more infected came, it became harder. Chris wanted to help but his leg wasn't letting him. Helplessly, he watched Yeonjun struggle and you and Changbin doing everything to get out fast.

In his mind, he was already dead. He thought about Minho for a moment, hoping he had taught the younger man everything to take over his place as leader. He truly hoped he did. Because he wasn't going to make it. He would only slow everyone down.

"Man, come here." Changbin yelled at him.

"You'll have to go without me." he declared, feeling defeated.

This caught your attention and you went back to Chris. Seeing him so vulnerable, your heart sank. If he was like Changbin had described him, it would be a waste for him to die. With a determined walk, you went to his side and put his arm around your neck to be his support.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving your ass." you rolled your eyes before looking at Yeonjun. "Jun, we can go now."

Your friend's face was fully red, a result of his entire strength used to keep away the monsters. Even if he wanted to, he wasn't going to have the energy to join you and leave. And one glance at each other was everything it took for you to understand that.

"You've been great, Jun." you smiled sadly, not even feeling the single tear that left your eye.

He gave you a small smirk, the best he could give you given the circumstances.

With a heavy heart, you grabbed tightly onto Chris and dragged him all the way to the hole in the wall, and then to the improvised bridge you and Changbin made. The latter was already on the other side but he crossed back to give you a hand with Chan. You sat the man down so he could slide instead of walk. Once safely arrived, you hurried to join them and throw the plank down, preventing the zombie-like creatures to follow you.

Out of breath, the three of you dropped on the floor. You couldn't believe it, you had just lost Yeonjun. Sure, he wasn't your favourite person on Earth but he had never left your side for years. In a way, he was your safe space. An annoying one for sure but it hurt nonetheless. And without saying a thing, you let one more tear drop from your eye while being totally unaware of Chan's gaze on you.

Normally, you would have left the neighborhood entirely. But because Christopher was having an issue with his right leg, this was not an option. Staying at the highest floor of the building next to the old SKZ headquarters, you were pleasantly surprised by the arrangement of the space. Someone had stayed there for a bit but left their bedding as well as their canned food and magazines. Maybe this person died but it didn't matter to you at that moment. You were just grateful to have access to such a luxury.

You all had a long day and deserved a rest, and Chan needed it the most. You had bickered beforehand about who was going to stay awake in case of anything but you inevitably won the argument.

With the light provided by the lamp in the middle of the small room, you read out loud the words written on the pages. Boring was one way to describe the texts but it was better than nothing.

"-the release of the movie had been much awaited by fans from all around the world. At its first screening in theaters-"

"What movie?" Chris cut you off.

"Avatar 2."

He chuckled. "It was a big thing, wasn't it?"

"Movie theaters..." Changbin said dreamily. "Will we ever be able to have this kind if experience again?"

You could only roll your eyes. "This is mothing compared to our movie nights."

"Gosh, I forgot about those!"

Chan frowned. "You two were pretty close, yeah?"

Changbin grinned. "My whole childhood was with her."

"At its first screening in theaters, many complained about-"

"Let's do something else." Chan cut you off, snatching the magazine out of your hands.

"What else do you suggest?" you sighed, knowing there wasn't much to do.

"We can chat a bit, learn about each other."

Changbin shook his head. "We already know each other."

"I don't know her, and you might not be aware of some things about her too."

"Fine. Y/N, how's your uncle doing?" he asked, not expecting much of it.

"Head of the bounty group in the city. He's enjoying power and abusing people but at least he gives me some money from time to time." you answered.

"Let me guess, when you do the job for him."

You nodded and that pretty much shut the whole conversation. Well, for the two of you. Chris' mind was going through a whirlwind of questions to ask. He was fascinated by your ability to remain calm and unfazed but it surely meant you had gone through something that made you this way. He wanted to know what happened. He wanted to dig into your mind to find the troubled girl. He wanted to help her.

"Your parents died, no? How did you deal with that?"

Your jaw clenched and you noticed Changbin was ready to throw some fists. Surprisingly, you weren't mad that he dared to mention your parents. In some way, you had beeb waiting for an opportunity to think of them. Ever since they died, you didn't let yourself take a moment for them.

"I coped the best way I could. I mainly tried to forget about it but I miss them still, you know? And my uncle has always been an ass so it didn't help much that he was still alive, let's say. He's family but I would've rather not if I'm being honest."

Chan chuckled. "He seems like one hell of a persona."

"Believe me, he is."

"It reminds me of my own parents."

You frowned, intrigued. "Are they..?"

"Dead, yes. My sister too. I don't know where my brother is but he most likely didn't make it. I miss them too but I made my own little family now. And I won't lose them."

Your gaze softened at his words. Scary is definitely a good word to describe Chris but deep down, he was a simple guy wanting to do good to protect his friends.

"You're part of it now, you know?"

You cleared your throat, uncertain on how to react. "Right... Uhm, it's getting late. You two can sleep, I'll be on the lookout."

Changbin took the gun from you before you could stand up, sending you a look that said plenty to you. He was going to watch first. You let him do and looked at his back while he went to sit next to the closed door.

"I get why you took Bin with you." you said in a low tone to Chris while settling down on the small blanket next to him.

He laid on the mattress himself as he replied. "Why?"

"He's built like a bodyguard, mentally and physically."

"He is, but he was so vulnerable when I met him. I was in a similar headspace and with Han being the anxious guy he is, we were a unique trio."

You didn't expect him to open up like this about the past, especially not the beginnings of SKZ. The organization might be small, as you know now, but the power they hold is something. Knowing the slightest information about them could ruin their doings. But since you were a member, you guessed it didn't matter now.

"We had a different name back then, 3Racha. We thought we were clever but when the other guys joined, it wasn't a good fit anymore."

You laughed. "Good call on changing the name. Why SKZ, though?"

"Stray Kids, a good representation of us I think. We're wandering around with a purpose but, in the end, we're all children still."

You liked that way of thinking. You were about to ask more in terms of the formation of the group but Chris' grunt took you off guard. Wincing more as he wiggles around more, you sat up and leaned towards his body to check where the pain was coming from. From the way he was holding onto his leg, you could tell this was the issue.

"Can I take a look?"

While panting heavily, he nodded in a hurry as if he was begging you to make the pain go away. Carefully, you pulled the blanket off him and went ahead with rolling his pants up to above his knee. That part of his body had clearly gone through a slight fracture.

"Gosh, what the hell did you do?" you mumbled more to yourself than to him.

"I was pushed down the stairs by an infected, no bites though."

You started to massage his knee a bit but the wince he let out was enough to make you stop. Instead, you ripped a piece of your shirt, one long enough so you could wrap it around his leg.

"I don't know if this will help for sure but it will keep it stable for a bit. The more you move, the more it'll hurt and worsen." you explain was tying it all up.

Chris watched you in admiration. There was something about you that he hadn't seen before, softness. There was worry and care in your touch.

"Thank you."

You gave him a small smile. "We don't want our leader to suffer now, do we?"

"Suffering is part of the equation, Y/N. The sacrifices I make are for the others."

"For tonight, it might be good for you to feel at peace. We don't know what will happen tomorrow."

You said this as if this had not been the case for the last six years. Every day was an adventure with risks. However, now that the team no longer had a safe space, it was much more dangerous to be out in the forbidden zones.

"Sleep well, Y/N." Chan finally spoke up, laying down again.

"You too."

It took two weeks for Chris to be able to walk in some way. In that time, your trio grew to have a routine. You and Changbin would switch places every night for the lookout but he was most often out to get the food and such. That left you and Chan alone together for the majority of the time. You didn't mind, Chris was fun when he wanted to be.

You grew closer which made you both glad. You didn't feel like you were walking on eggshells every time you were around him anymore. Instead, you felt safe. He had the trick with words so he could tell you anything in the wisest way possible. That, or he was flirting.

Maybe it was due to his lack of action in the love department, but he would make flirty comments nonstop.

One time, Changbin left to see if he could get a hold of some medicine for Chan's leg. The moment he left, Chris was at it again.

"Now that he's gone, that leaves us alone again." he had said with an eyebrow raised.

This had to stop, now that you were on the move again. The sole focus had to be finding the other boys, and only Chris knew where to find them.

On the run again, you left your little temporary hideout that morning with only a couple of belongings with yourselves such as food and weapons. You were far away from the city now, leaving you wondering where the hell Chris had planned to go.

"Are we there yet?" you asked with a whine on purpose.

"No, I've told you." he answered calmly.

His patience was impressive but you were testing his limits. "How long do we have still?"

"More than expected if you continue complaining like this."

Changbin held back a laugh. For him, seeing the new dynamic his friends had was entertaining. The growth from being distant to joking around all the time was the last thing he would've expected from the two of you.

A couple of miles later, you settled down in an abandoned convenience store to take a small break. To your luck, some snacks were still intact as well as some beverages. This brought back memories from when you would demand sodas from your father and he would repeatedly tell you how bad it was for your health. Let's say it didn't matter anymore. Food was food.

"Look! They got ramen." Chris said, bringing a box full of them.

"Jackpot." you cheered, taking one pack for yourself.

"If only we have boiling water." Changbin pointed out but Chris coming from the back of the store with a boiler shut him off real quick. "Nevermind."

"It almost feels like we're robbing someone's safe place, this store has everything."

Chris shrugged. "We're not staying for long, just to refill our stomachs. We'll continue after."

Your eyes widened. "You mean we won't sleep?"

"Not tonight, we slept plenty last week. What, did you want to cuddle with me?" he winked at you.

"As if." you scoffed.

Changbin, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the tension, started to get the food ready. In the meantime, you and Chan kept an eye outside just in case. In no time, the three of you were on the ground, slurping on your noodles loudly. This might had been the first good meal you had in a long time. You really took instant noodles for granted back when you had easy access to it.

"Are you done?" Chris asked as he finished his bowl.

You and Changbin hurried to finish and you were back to walking again, not forgetting to pack a couple of items from the store.

It felt like you had been advancing for eternity without getting much closer. You were mostly silent, that didn't help. You were growing more and more bored by the minute and, visibly, both boys felt the same.

"Truth or dare?" you suddenly spoke, startling the guys.

"Uh, Y/N?" Changbin said, confused.

"Might as well make the most of this trip." you shrugged. "Truth or dare?"

Chan was the first to answer. "Truth."

"Do you really think we'll find a cure?"

He gave you a look, as if to tell you that you were being weird. "I think so, but it won't be a thing done by the snap of my fingers. Bin?"

"Dare."

"Hum the hapoy birthday song."

"Boring. Y/N?"

"Truth."

Changbin smirked at you, a sign he was uo to no good with his question. "Who's the most handsome in SKZ?"

You cleared your throat, keeping your eyes in front of you. From the side, you noticed Chan looking at you as he expected your answer more excitedly than he should.

"Uh, do I have to say?"

"Yes." both men answered.

You breathed out loudly and stopped on your tracks to look at them both. "You're all good-looking in your own ways but... uh... Chan is pretty nice to look at." you mumbled quickly before walking again.

Chan's smirk crept on his face before he jogged to catch up with your speed. Meanwhile, Changbin proudly tapped his own shoulder to congratulate himself.

"What did you say? I couldn't hear properly." Chris questioned, though you knew he had heard it perfectly.

"Don't make me repeat it."

"I'm pretty nice to look at? This might be the best compliment I have ever received." he snorted in a sarcastic way, earning a glare from you. "If it can help your case, you're pretty cute too, you know?"

If you could control it, you wouldn't blush. Never would you accept a compliment from Chris, even less after you were forced to give him one.

"Let's go back to walking in silence, shall we?" you suggested, ignoring the man completely. "Changbin, can I walk with you?"

He shrugged. "Nah, I'm good in my bubble."

You wanted to rip his head off at this instant but refrained yourself from doing so. Evidently, you had no choice but to continue to trip with Chan next to you.

"Ignoring people is rude."

"I'm not ignoring you." you defended, although it couldn't be any more false.

"It's not such a good look on you, baby."

Your eyes went wide immediately. In the spur of the moment, you shoved him to the side and fastened your speed of walk. You weren't even mad at the nickname. In fact, you kind of liked how bold Chris was. Anywho, you had no time to flirt, even less with the SKZ leader. Trying to recollect yourself, you focused on your breathing to being it back to a normal pace.

Only for Chan to show up again.

"It was a joke, I'm sorry."

"Uhm." you hummed, still not acknowledging him.

"Y/N..."

"It's fine, don't worry."

Feeling defeated, he didn't push it further. So you continued to walk, only hearing the wind and the sounds from your footsteps.

The warehouse was most likely a place they had previously chosen as a base. The equipment was still functional and tons of weapons had been hidden in a safe place under the floor of the basement. Heavy barbed wire all around on top of high fences, you wondered why they even left this place to begin with.

"Not discreet enough." Minho answered your question, which you had seemingly said outloud. "With all the heavy security mesures here, we are easily spotted by enemies. Sure, it's safer but we prefer places where we can work hidden from anyone."

You were glad the whole group made it to the safe meeting point. Jisung immediately went about taking care of Chan's injury while everyone gathered to figure out what to do next.

"We can always travel to the east part of the country?" Hyunjin suggested.

Seungmin, however, disapproved. "With an injured leader and a newbie on the team, we might want to stay close to the city."

"There's always TXT's hiding place." Jeongin shrugged.

It pinched inside to hear that group. You missed Yeonjun, more than you would have imagined.

"It's too small for you all." you argued.

"Yeah, I need the equipment for the research." Minho added.

"We'll stay here." Chan announced as he came back with Jisung. "We are almost done with the formula, we need a couple more weeks and it should be ready to test. I doubt we'll have issues until then."

"I added traps all around the base while we were waiting for the threesome people, we should be safe." Jisung precised before slumping down on a couch.

"Threesome people?" Chris repeated in a mumble.

"Yeah, like how Changbin was surely going to sleep with Y/N and Y/N and Chris keep eye-fucking each other nonstop."

"We got the point, thanks Jisung." Jeongin stopped him, which you were grateful for.

"She's like a sister to me, that'd be so wrong." Changbin continued.

You sent him a glare but he ignored it. "No one's slept or will sleep with anyone."

"Hmm, you'd be surprised." Hyunjin argued.

"I don't want the details."

Chan clapped his hands together, shutting the conversation. "Can we get back to work?"

Everybody went to their position: Felix and Jeongin on the lookout on the roof, Changbin at the entrance, Jisung and Hyunjin in training, Minho and Seungmin on the cure...

You were left alone with Chris in his new office. With a radio at hand, you were trying to catch any signals of new research found about the virus of potential visits from enemies that you could prepare for. It wasn't that exciting other than hearing people talk.

"Y/N L/N... works for... reward of..." you heard while tuning in the radio.

You had completely forgotten about your uncle, even more the load of work you still had to execute for him. In a moment of panic, you stood uo and paced around the room, looking for your stuff.

"Woah, Y/N." Chris said, standing up as well.

"I have to go back." you announced, breath unsteady.

"What?"

"My uncle, he's gonna kill me if I don't finish his deals."

He frowned. He had tried to understand why you were so insistent on continuing to work for that guy. From his point of view, nothing beneficial for you. You would receive much less than what you deserve, get treated like shit and live in a shitty torn down apartment.

"You don't have to-"

"You don't understand." you interrupted him. "That man is the reason why I'm still alive. I did all of his work and he allowed me to get by in exchange. I let him down, he can ruin my name. He has contacts, I know he will kot hesitate to-"

"You don't have to." Chan repeated. "You're not there anymore, you're not trapped. Look, I don't know what happened with the two of you but I think he might have manipulated you. Telling you that you owe him for what he did for you? You don't owe him anything, he's the one who owes you. You do all of his dirty work for a few silvers and do it all again the next day. And what if he ruins your name? You can't be found with us. Well, your chances are low let's say. You're safe."

You hadn't noticed he had taken your hands in reassurance until you felt his thumbs rubbing against your skin. This might had been the first time someone had touched you like this, so intimately. As much as it was a foreign sensation, you felt as if there was nothing else but you and him. As if a bubnle had created around you. As tears dropped from your eyes, you took in what he just said. For years, you believed you had no choice but to give back to your uncle for lpoking after you, when in reality, he had never done anything but use you. Chan was right.

You let out a chuckle. "In a way, you saved me. By recruiting me."

"In a way."

You stepped forward, getting closer to him. So close that you could smell him. He smelled fresh and new, nothing like someone who spent years being a rebel. Looking up to stare back at him, his gaze had moved down to your lips. So you looked at his lips too and, slowly, you moved closer to each other until you kissed.

It was nothing like you had experienced before. There wasn't just lust and want in the kiss, there was anger, sadness, relief.... It wasn't a clear mix but it felt good.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to seem to take advantage of the situation or-"

You shushed him with a small peck. "You're not, I swear. Look, I don't do great at relationship stuff but-"

It was his turn to cut you off as he let out a laugh. "There is no pressure."

For a moment, you could only smile and stare at one another. This was simple, easy. You loved it, actually.

"... vaccine in development..." the radip glitched, grabbing both your attention. "... no cure found... coming from yeast... mores tests..."

Chan took a deep breath. "I think the guys are going to like that information."

"What do you mean?"

His smile grew bigger. "We know the source of it now. If the guys can combine the source with the developped molecule, we might find a way to prevent it from evolving."

"So..?" you asked again, still not fully understanding.

"We're near the end of it all, Y/N."

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[connectionterminated13]

May I request headcanons for your scooped Mike so that our village may survive the winter?

-@drinkinboilingcoffee

Yeah finally someone asks me!!!

- Well he was being used as a skin suit Michael was stuck in some horrible nightmare realm that looks and has the same vibes as shark boy and Lava girl, Where he was stuck in a horrible pile of screaming melting souls clawing for some way out but never reaching anything. This along with the incredible amount of physical agony he felt from his body being broken end actively rotting made him go a little bit crazy....

- When he woke up on the sidewalk and ran home to henry's house he attempted to end it all When Henry wasn't there and there was literally no one to help him and then he realized he couldn't die and just curled up on a ball and cried for like 3 hours.

- Lucky for him Charlie found him and like calmed him down and the 2 of them decided on the arson quest where they'd go and light fazbear establishments on fire until the company no longer exists (they have an eternity after all!!)

- Despite being zombie Michael still has a good relationship with his cat foxy. Foxy doesn't see anything different about him and loves cuddling up to Mikey and he's always very cute even when foxy decides to sit on Mike's stomach and accidentally falls into the stomach hole

- My Mikey never stitched himself up there was no need really. His body kind pulls itself together due to the remnant and his ghost and all that garbage.

- He is terrible with people who aren't Charlie. Like he just stares and sometimes says cryptic lines about them going to hell or doom is coming and so he can't interact with like anyone

- He loves scaring people he never hurts them but he does like stalking down Dark streets to spook people with his spooky little face.

- Michael Has to deal with hallucinations of his dead family postscoop. This happened like twice a month and usually Mikey just smokes a cigarette and talks to Charlie or pets his cat in order to calm down but sometimes they can overwhelm him and he just like completely shuts down.

- Michael liked smoking before the scoop but now he absolutely loves it! He only has one moldy gross lung but it's enough to Wease out a cigarette. In his head smoking and cigarettes are one of the few things that the world can't take from him. It makes him feel human...

- He doesn't really try to cover himself up ever when he goes outside, Most people are too absorbed in their own lives to notice him for that long but when they do He just ignores them.

- He's got no meat on his feet :(. His legs are completely bone And bits of scrappy muscle he has no idea how he walks normally at all.

- He has like a giant fear of technology made after the 1990s due to sister location. Charlie has to handle all the computer stuff or else Mikey will have a panic attack

- Michael doesn't think anyone other than Charlie could ever care about him. He is an ugly stinky monster, a brother killer And all around horrible person.

- The plans that Mikey and Charlie have post burning down every remnant of fazbears is to go up and flame together and finally move on

[identitycrysys]

OH BTW SINCE THE OTHERS ACTUALLY NEED AN EXCUSE TO GO

Mage and Ziffer i mean ziffer i mean zipper i mean ziffer i mean Zypher went back to game. Neptune was dragged along sorry he comes back every once in a while BECAUSE HE STILL HAS A JOB. sorry chronically online guy. also sorry vamp and cerb ur husband and wife are gone. Lantern gets a break

(,,,,,,,Yes he brought the flowers)

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Avian is. Probably in the hospital. If that exists (im so sorry avy you’re going to have to befriend Pyx instead)

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Alchemist went back to the cave since Dialtone finally moved back to his cabin and it doesn’t take such a long walk to get there and back. Cloud is htere too. Sorry dialtone. Atleast there’s a lower chance of a fire AHAHA haha hahaa. ha. (looks left, looks right)

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Anger is just. Locking herself in her room for some reason. Sorry sunshine your gf is . Not happy

,,,,,Not for any reason in particular! Not for any reason in parti

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Bow’s(the cooler one) bothering his wife. No need to go deeper on this

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Skeleton’s going through the Horrors. None of you will get any context. Other than he remembered something. lol (GLARES AT SOUP)

Oh yeah and thanks to SOMEONE IN MY DMS YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE he now has the snas head !! Feiar is going to love this when he comes back i justf know it

,,,,for the room thingy, (hi soup) you get to choose whatever room you want them to stay in if you want to skip that interaction because i’m pretty sure by the time i come back zombie has FUCKING LOST IT so!!

room from 100 bc or something. the two or ATLEAST SKELETON dusted everything off. good as new !!!!!! (ignore the rats) (the breadbox is still there)

. empty room. Atleast one of them tried to bring furniture. ther es is only one bed. sorry zombie. skeleton is kinda restless when eep. that or skel won’t sleep at all

The. Other one. You don’t get to pick this. Skeleton visits it sometimes A LOT

you dont have to skip it if you don’t want to

@zombie-an0n just in case you DON’T see this

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Drama is. Having a depressive episode probably. Sorrh mimic

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Moon’s sleeping her ass off . Sorry sun your platonic gf is taking another unnecessary break

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Surfer and his brother i mean brother i mean totally uncool guy he is not related to are just. Chilling

,,,,,,Surfer is being forced to do farm work. Do with that what you will

(someone else is going to be in control of the two now)

(also hi to you know who. you may give others the username if you want to. ill probably have the surfer design by then if my lazy ass don’t catch me)

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characters that DON’T have accounts that I can remember off the top of my head i think

Therapist is. Just fucking around in Sarah’s palace. So is crowneater

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Laine (worst name i think i’ve ever given a character ever sorry lai)fell into the lake. He lives there now. Waterboy

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Robber & Rational (no, not reason. hitting you with a rolled up newspaper lily) are. Also chilling. ,,,,,,,,,Someone’s being forced to take their meds sorry robber,,,, Least Pam gets a break

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Affie (used to have account) is busy. Making gifts for no one ever. She just makes them and has them stay there. Whoever visits her is welcome

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Durian(IM SO SORRY I NAMED YOU AFTER A STINKY CANCER FRUIT) is worrying about why he can’t leave. No need to look into this. No need t

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Jinx. Already said this. Stuck in his room again LOL LOL L BOZO

________________________________________________________

CHARACTERS MENTIONED THAT AREN’T MINE

sorry for the tags lol

@sh4tt3rg1rl vamp, cerb, sun somewhere, dialtone

@theautumnaldemon or @/mod-autumn (forgot pyx tag)- Pyxel , Pam and Stranger (if I mentioned them anywhere)

@courtjesterrr sunshine, mimic, some other irrelevant guy

tagging you for another reason but don’t tell anyone that wink wink wink smirk wink

@crazy-into-you sarah, arrows

@zombie-anon zombie. i can’t remember if i named someone else sorry

im like 100% sure i missed someone else sorrh for not tagging you

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I LOVE YOU ALL !!!

[ghouly-boiiiii]

My Name Is Cooper

Chapter 6 Push-y and Shove-y and Cut-Off-Finger-y

(Lucy x Cooper Howard / The Ghoul)

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Tags: angst, fluff, romance, humor, banter, femdom, alcohol and drug use, eventual smut

In this chapter…

She shook her head, and despite the heaviness in her heart, put in the tape... Because there was also a comfort there, too. That handsome man on the screen. Mr. Cooper Howard. Even though she was much older now, she still carried that torch. He was so suave, so debonair. When she was young, anytime she felt stressed or overwhelmed, she’d put in one of his movies and it always made her feel better. She remembered fantasizing about marrying that man and having children with him. Having a glorious life out in the wide open country. Riding horses and lassoing things. It didn’t matter what. Could be rocks for all she cared. He was the cowboy of her dreams. Nothing gave her the butterflies and tinglies like Mr. Cooper Howard did.

But then, something else started to come over her. 

It was odd. As she watched the film, something felt different. Seeing him was giving her a… strange sense of Deja-vu. Not the kind you would expect, having seen the film so many times. No, it was something else. Certain ways that he spoke. How he moved. Gestures he would make. His cadence, his demeanor, how he walked. The brow raise. The half-smile… He was so... different, and yet…

He reminded her of The Ghoul…

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1,929

SPOILER WARNING: Contains all the spoilers

No trigger warnings except eventual sexy time with a zombie man.

Lucy did as she had offered and proceeded to put those dirty old rags of his in the wash. She didn’t know how people dealt with not being able to bathe. She didn’t know how she was gonna deal with it. A hot shower was enough to make her feel like her old self again. Almost enough to make her reconsider her conviction about never going back to the vault... And seeing how The Ghouls clothes had fared didn’t help much. 

They were stinky and crusty with dirt and blood and God knows what else. And torn to bits. When’s the last time he got something new to wear, she wondered. He was so mean and nasty, and yet…

There was a feeling growing in her. A feeling she knew, but… the source confused her. She tried to stuff it down, ignore it, but it was there. And she didn’t know why. Maybe it was too much sun. Maybe the old food. Maybe not enough sleep. But the more time she spent with him. Every time she thought about him. There it was.

She kept trying to remind herself how awful he was to her before, looking down at her discolored finger and remembering the smirk on his face as he sliced it off. That said…

The more time she spent out in the Wasteland, the more she realized… lessons came hard and fast. She couldn’t expect anyone to ease her transition into this cruel and unforgiving world. Why would he treat her any different?

Then again, what was she supposed to do? Say it was okay? Because it definitely wasn't. Behavior like that is never okay, even if you are an irradiated wasteland cowboy. There's no excuse for it.

She huffed at herself. 

What the hell was wrong with her? Having butterflies and warm fuzzies in her tummy like a teen crush… over him? It was gross. She must be losing her ever-loving mind. How could she feel this way, after what he did to her?

And it wasn’t just her either. He killed people. Lots of people. He shot that nice man who was gonna tell her about his mom’s apple pie. And then he ate him! And made her cut his behind up for leftovers! He tied her up by her neck, dragged her around the desert and refused to give her water! He even poured some on the ground in front of her just to be a jerk! Then he made her drink out of that… well, she wasn’t sure what it was. She just knew it was the most disgusting thing she ever tasted, and it gave her radiation poisoning! Why, if she hadn’t stumbled upon Max, she’d be dead! 

She decided to chalk it up to the trauma. Everything she’d been through. It was hard, and there was no one there to comfort her. So it made sense that she might want to cling to the one person who happened to be around. Her mind was just looking for comfort, wherever she could find it. Yeah. That was it.

Speaking of comfort, she found herself appreciating more than ever the many amenities vaults had to offer. As much as she felt sick with herself about it, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the television set and the video tapes stacked beside it. Once she was done putting the clothes in the wash, she looked through the titles, and one stood out that she knew all too well. It was a film called, ‘A Man and his Dog’. 

The former vault dweller paused as she stared down at it and a flood of memories came back to her. She couldn’t count how many times she sat down and watched this film with her dad. Ever since she was a kid. He loved this movie. Loved all the Cooper Howard movies. He was a huge fan. Always ranting and raving about what an amazing actor he was. He even had some pre-war memorabilia with the guy's autograph on it. 

She remembered how he would joke about how he wanted her to marry a man like that someday. She would act disgusted, but secretly she found herself swooning helplessly for the Hollywood actor. And she wasn’t the only one either. Pre-war movies were one of the few remaining forms of entertainment from the time. A glimpse into the past. And even though all the actors were long gone, it didn’t stop anyone from being keen on them. She and Stephanie would often steal her dads movies and hide out in her room, watching them over and over, chattering on about how dreamy and handsome Cooper Howard was, and arguing over which of the two he’d pick to marry. 

Of course, she would never tell her dad that. But he figured it out soon enough when his tapes started going missing for extended periods of time, then reappearing randomly in dubious places. He sure got a kick out of it too. Always going on and making fun, in a friendly way of course. She thought he seemed quite delighted that she liked the man, maybe even more than he did…

She swallowed hard as she thought about her father. All the good times they shared. All the jokes. All the long discussions about the latest book they were reading. The excitement over a healthy, abundant crop. How he held and rocked her when she got hurt as a child. How he looked at her with such love and pride.

‘You are my world…’

Lucy parted her lips and took in a shaky breath, then swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped the tear from her cheek. She took another deep breath and looked at the ceiling, trying to stuff down the sadness and grief.

Even though she was angry and disgusted by him. By what he’d done. She still missed him. She wondered where he was. If he was okay. Hoping that wherever he was going, he would be safe. Part of her wanted nothing more but to see him again and give him a hug. Part of her regretted not giving him more of a chance to explain himself. Wondering if she’d reacted too rashly. She wanted to believe he was a good man. But good men don’t destroy cities. Good men don’t lie to their families. Good men don’t make themselves a part of a plot to… control the whole freaking world…

She shook her head, and despite the heaviness in her heart, put in the tape... Because there was also a comfort there, too. That handsome man on the screen. Mr. Cooper Howard. Even though she was much older now, she still carried that torch. He was so suave, so debonair. When she was young, anytime she felt stressed or overwhelmed, she’d put in one of his movies and it always made her feel better. She remembered fantasizing about marrying that man and having children with him. Having a glorious life out in the wide open country. Riding horses and lassoing things. It didn’t matter what. Could be rocks for all she cared. He was the cowboy of her dreams. Nothing gave her the butterflies and tinglies like Mr. Cooper Howard did.

But then, something else started to come over her. 

It was odd. As she watched the film, something felt different. Seeing him was giving her a… strange sense of Deja-vu. Not the kind you would expect, having seen the film so many times. No, it was something else. Certain ways that he spoke. How he moved. Gestures he would make. His cadence, his demeanor, how he walked. The brow raise. The half-smile… He was so... different, and yet…

He reminded her of The Ghoul…

Lucy laughed a little out loud. How strange, that two men who are so very different could seem so similar. Perhaps that explains the odd familiarity she felt around the old bounty hunter. The butterflies. Of course. He happened to remind her of her highschool movie crush. How gross… and silly… and… weird…

Suddenly, she was interrupted from her thoughts as the washer started beeping.

The former vault dweller shook her head and went to put the clothes in the dryer. As she pulled out The Ghoul’s shirt, she realized that - now clean - it wasn’t black and brown as she had previously thought. But actually more… blue and gold. It was still stained and faded, and torn to shit, but it was familiar to her too. Why… it looked a lot like the shirt Cooper Howard wore in ‘The Man From Deadhorse’.

Lucy stared down at it, puzzling and puzzling. It had to be a coincidence. There was no way it was the same shirt. She was sure they made tons of shirts like this, back before the war. Maybe even after the war. Maybe it was just a very popular style of shirt cowboys wore. Who knows? 

She threw it in the dryer with the rest of the clothes and tried to put the nagging thoughts out of her mind as she went back to her movie, stopping briefly to grab the half-empty bottle of whisky The Ghoul had left on the table by the recliner. But the thoughts kept beating against her skull like a drum. There was no way. No way it could be him. NO FLIPPIN’ WAY. 

‘I’ve been waiting over two-hundred years to ask somebody one question…’

He’d been around since before the bombs…

‘You wanna notha’ autograph, young Henry?’

He asked her dad if he… wanted 'another autograph'...

‘Feo fuerte y formal.’

She sat on her knees, right in front of the screen and squinted her eyes at the black-and-white picture. Looking for evidence to contradict her silly theory. 

But he was the right height. The right build. His eyes… his lips… his hands…

It couldn’t be. It just… couldn’t be.

She shut the movie off, and sat there with her thoughts.

...But what if it was?

Her heart sank at the idea. That the man who had lived rent-free in her brain for so long, in their imaginary farmhouse with their imaginary children and imaginary dogs and cows and chickens… That perfect man, and a perfect patriot, with the perfect smile. The All-American family man who served his country with honor and dignity… That man... could have ended up like… like this. All those nights she imagined him gently holding her and kissing her and whispering sweet nothings. When the reality was he was push-y and shove-y and grump-y and cannibal-y and cut-off-finger-y. That would be just… awful.

The Ghoul said he was like her once. Which means he used to be a good person, right? But this wasteland broke him and took everything good away. Turned him into something twisted and menacing. If this man she hated so much, was also the man that she so once adored… What did that even mean?

She knew Cooper Howard was a good man. She obviously never knew him in person, but she just knew, based on what little there was published on his life two-hundred years ago, that he was a good person. She was sure of it… Could someone like that really fall so far from grace?

Could she?

When she looked at The Ghoul… was she really looking at her own fate? Her future self? Future Lucy?

The idea terrified her to her core. She shuddered at the idea, then took another drink of the whiskey and gagged at the burn. 

That was it… She was going to get SO fucking drunk.

To be continued...

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[popculturebuffet]

Sam and Max Beyond Time and Space Retrospective: Night of the Raving Dead

Happy halloween all you happy freelance police. I"m jake and my Sam and Max Beyond Time and Space retrospective continues as Sam and Max fight a guy who sucks just in time for spooky season.

Chapter 3 gives us a fun spooky good time as we have zombies, frankenstines and vampires as our dynamic duo have to beat a club hopping german vampire before his army of the undead conquer the world. So a normal tuesday really. Can our heroes save the world.. again? Will we have to see a lot of pierced vampire nipples? Is Lincoln still the worst Short answer, of course, just look at the article image, and i'm still in cringing agony so.. can confirm. Long answer is under the cut!

Night of the Raving Dead begins In Media Res and milks it for all it's worth: Sam and Max are in a soul sucking machine, at the mercy of Jurgen, a european vampire who never wears a shirt but does gladly show off his pierced nipples. Still better than bebops. Firm 6/10.

At any rate pierced nips aren't the issue as the threat here is your old fashioned spike wall style trap I know just the man for the job but sadly he's was a bit busy with his own spiked wall issues

So instead we flash back to the start of this tale.

And to my delight our heroes continue to pile up junk in their office. Sam has now added a holy urn and is still high priest seperation of chruch and state kneels before god emperor priest president Max!

Our heroes have a bit of infestation though in their office there's something all too familiar

These are not greasy teen zombies or greasy gnomes or even the dreaded Crombie, but European Zombies! So it's up to us to talk to everyone and find out why. In an intresting reversal this time it's Bosco whose closed, while Sybil's reopened her place, because we psychologically tortured him into disappearing.

Sybil meanwhile is looking for love in all the wrong places as after her relationship with Abe Ended she's restarted her dating service.. but just for her. After the obvious sex work joke because this is the 2000's, Sybil is basically screening dates... and is currnetly screening a moleman.

But after he failed we're left with Harry Moleman. Whose back for some reason. Gotta reuse those models I guess. He has aboslutely no shot and Sybil is being just polite. He also has a choclate heart we'll need later and a fear of zombie's we'll exploit later

Moving over to Stinky's her latest special is a gooey cake/chekov's gun, while her latest item we can grab is a sunlamp bulb since even she has no idea why it's there, but the plot does. The plot sees all.

Anyway abe's also there.. .and still the worst as he blames Sybil for the breakup, is stalking her and won't shut up

Yeah I liked Abe at first.. but in a record TWO episodes he's gone from endearing into the hall

It's a shame too as I really DID like abe in season one and the first episode of this but this gag, ESPECIALLY wiith how the sybil plot concludes, really dosen't work.

Thankfully we move on to our boys the C.O.P.S. who have decided to captalize on this to sell internet to zombies, via online trial discs. For those too young to know what those are

For now though we can't get any of those future coasters, but we do found out poor bluster has some brain damage which was also funnier at the time. We do find out the source of the ZOmbies: the zombie factory in Stuttgard, Germany. And to my shock Stuttgart is a real place. I would've asked my german friend , but she needs sleep and isn't awake till midnight like moi.... am I a vampire? ... no. No I love garlic bread too much to make that sacrifice. Then again It'd also make it easier to meet Matt Berry.. dammit this is a dillema.

While I mull this over we move on to Stuttgard. I didn't ask said friend, @galaxysupernaturalstuff because again, asleep.. and because I forgot earlier. Though I probably DON'T need an actual german to tell me "yeah Stuttgart isn't a small villiage with a giant castle in the middle of it. "They thankfully don't do too many german stereotypes about the country as a whole, the only gags they do being the fairly innocent beerstein and the fact Midtown Cowboys is big there. It's done more in a tounge in cheek way than anything genuinely offensive.

Turns out the Zombie Factory is both your standard spooky hammer horror style monster castle.. and a club, and to get in we need to get past the bouncer, good old superball.

Yeah like the Bosco scremaing thing this is a runner nad a truly great one. Also unlike that one it's both nonseical and you can't get punched for it. He's working for Jurgen, our big bad, because his doors are rich fine mahogany.. and he needs SOMETHING to do after the divorce. He was married. I'd.. genuinely forgot that.

To get past him we once again have to do something that's likely to get me sent to hell for playing this game: take a brain from a fresh corpse

Then we throw it to a gargoyle which suprisingly ISN'T alive, nor voiced by keith david despite it being night, allowing us to cut the line.

It's inside we get a ZOMBIE DISCO BITCHES. We meet our arc villian and the mastermind behind this half baked scheme, Jurgen. Jurgern.. is a deliglight: he's basically every 20 something trying to seem cool by clubing distilled into a vampire and given a german accent and nipple rings. And he is glorious. The fact his plan is just "Conquer teh world with zombies" jah helps. our heroes just try to go for the head.. but Jurgen can teleport so we need to take the source of his powers: his...

And it's fun too as each one is simply hitting him with his vampire weakensses.. and the how, as usual is fun and redicuous. That being said actually solving these puzzles.. is a lot. I ended up hitting a dead end: I figured given the tropes at play that the key was to trigger some type of hidden entrance to get up to the balcony to replace the bulbs in the spotlight with the sunlamp. And it is.. btu the how is INCREDIBLY overcomplicated. While the writing couldn't be stronger this chapter and where your supposed to go MOSTLY straight foward, the actual puzzles are often overcomplicated. The ones in the Zombie Factory itself rely HEAVILY on a dj soundboard , which you have to put the right words from one of jurgen's poems into, without it being clear which words in the poem are a clue. Also solving the spotlight DOSEN'T fix the problem and you still have two other things to do to him, only one of which is pretty easy to figure out since after Jurgen mentions he's a huge midtown cowboys fangboy, a new area unlocked announcment shows up. As it did with the COPS when this castle unlocked. Both a great gag and a nice bit of gameplay magic to make this easier.

So yeah.. I used a guide for most of this. This is one of the trickier ones gameplay wise and if you don't adventure game often or have a lot of patience

It can be maddening. There's also another "pick a random dialouge option fo ra song" puzzle like last season, which just.. isn't fun. Picking various options is only funny if there's multiple jokes, like the cooking without looking segment from last game. Basically asking "PICK RANDOM DIALOUGE FOR US FEASANT" isn't fun it's just keeping me from having fun with the part of the game I actually like.

So with that we an shine a little sunlight on Jurgen's life, causing him to freak out and loose a little respect of his fanbase. Like any influencer in embyro, just one stab to his rep isn't going to do it but it's a start. Next it's time to return to Midtown Cowboys! Their probably hiding a cow. Midtown Cowboys have been saved from cancelation baby! See back then Networks actually.. payed attention to things like audience numbers or dvd and digital sales instead of guarding the numbers like a cave troll so they can cancel whatever they want whenever they want. Gee I wonder why the actor's strike has taken 105 days with that kind of job security.

As it turns out Midtown Cowboys is HUGE in germany, with WARP having converted to just shooting Midtown Cowboys and spinoffs. Hey at least they beat Disney+ to the punch with that model. Turns out the statoin lady's been TRYING to get our heroes back in they've just been busy and such.. and max also deleted her messages because he be like that.

We also reunite with my boy Mr. Featherly, who legally changed his name from Philo Pennyworth. While he DID go back to theater even he can't resist the siren call of "buy your own private island fortress" money. Max naturally signed away those rights without thinking. They lost 4 executives that day..so you know it's not all bad.

We can still use the broadcast to our advntage though, stashing some garlic cigarettes from outside the castle in Featherly's bag as a prop. What follows.. is comedy gold. While we sadly don't get a cookin without lookin sequel, I wanted to use baboon hearts, what we do get is just as funny as we get a very special episode, the kind sitcoms used to do to tackle the heavy issues instead of just weaving them in if it fits the tone.

The cowboys hold an interviention for mr. featherly, who finds out they were indeed hiding a cow but he has his own cow.. a smoking addiction. Even Bessie is disapointed. It then quickly turns into an add for smoking and why it's totally rad and you should all do it as their sponsor.. is garlic clove cigarettes. It's so fucked and I love it. IT's a simple idea i'm genuinely suprised I haven't seen elsewhere and genius.

So with that we just have one last thing to destroy this man's career: we need a man of the faith to bless some water bottles we got at the club. But since Shelby isn't around, we'll have to make do with max, dunking the water bottles in his sacred urn while he gives us the sacred rites

The problem is as seen with the cigs, while Jurgen is many things, a hipster, a scene kid, a goth, a tool, a vampire, a mild german sterotype, a dracula, an emo, a direct to video sequel to Dracula 2000, a nipple piercing sorta guy, european, german, big dicked, bad at poetry, a plagarist, a mad scientest, an outer god... he is not dumb enough to let people carry in his weaknesses. Dumb enough to keep some of them in his private lab as we'll see, but still not dumb enough to let vampire hunters right in.

So to get it past we have to have max drink the holy water. You'd think this would mean max would get set on fire, another vampire weakness but it just give shim a halo. I guess his own religion can't cast him into the firey depths.

It's a once again limited time thing.. though I don't get WHY in this case. I get having it wear off to show it has to be used IN the castle.. but why does it wear off on the dance floor.

Anyways to beat jurgen we have to out out emo him with lyrics about darkness, no parents, continued darkness, and of course

We DO basically win, but normally jurgen would copy us. I know because I did this puzzle before knowing the solution. He drinks max. Thankfully his drinking Holy Water makes him need to go potty. You know if I had a nickle for every time we had to defeat one of our foes by making him need to go to the bathroom i'd have three nickels.. which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened thrice.

So we follow Jurgen to his lair but given we've only done three puzzle's we're not done yet, two act structure and all as SAM AND MAX ENGAGE IN THE MOST THRILLING BATTLE OF THEIR CAREERS... bringing them to the trap.. which thanks to Sam being busy recapping, works and swallows our heroes souls. Jurgen goes.. somewhere, leaving us in his study. We find some useful junk, including a stake, and a monster.

This is Jurgen's Monster, who like his master I dearly love, a poetic beast whose mad you brought him to life as he's so lonely. Can relate dude, can, relate.

Helping him win a date with Sybil is our main quest from her eon out as she has a soul mater, a weird horrifying eldrich device she dosen't know how to use, so her finding her soul mate means we can have it. Which is good because Sam and Max's souls don't want to go back after how their bodies have misused them, waiting to go to the next life. To put a stop to our souls going to hell a few chapters early we need that soul mater.

What follows is a LOT of stuff since we don't have just 7 days to make jurgen a mannnnnnnnnnnn. We can't get him pink and quite clean but we CAN get him a brain via our old friend Flint Paper and the Zombie of Abe LIncon. Yeah turns out Abe was buried in Stuttgart and thus we meet the real abe whose loyal to his dead wife and actually likeable. Sadly he's brutalyl murdered because Flint Paper is on the warpath. He wants to kill us because "THey'd rather be dead than undead!" Sam and Max don't remember making him promise that and thus use another hidden passage to knock him out and get the brain.

Next we need a proper hand. Thankfully the zombie from the intro stole jessie james hand, which is now alive and holding up girl stinky. To get it we need to trick it and this puzzle is clever: the hand hops every time it shoots. So we simply have to make it get all the way to girl stinky, then put his attention her so it goes the other way.. straight into the goey cake. We got our HANNNDDD BACCCKKKK.

We now need to give him some heart. This one's a tad overcomplicated, even by this chapter's standards: first we need to play the cops game for this chapter, distrubing internet demo disks paperboy style. This game is tricky, but unlike the difficulty in this chapter, it's a fair kind once you figure it out. You have to move your car to be in the right position to hit the zombies with a disk. It's still hard, but it's the fun kind of hard

With that we have a big anetna we can bolt cutter off the car and use to power up Jurgen's alchemy machine.

To get our final body part though we need to play the dating game against featherly and harry moleman

Harry is just hopeless and Featherly is pretentious: LIncoln's brain is the only thing Sybil liked about him, and the hand has jurgen spell out I love sybil. Awwwwww. We just need a heart of gold as the ones we have are a clock and plants that make us into mr. van dresen. I mean .. you'd think playing a good rendention of lesbian segull would woo her but I guess it's not her thing.

No we need a heart. Luckily Harry takes his time answering a question and has a choclate heart, and even more luckily this time ruining his life dosen't feel bad as he's tried to murder us, sybil and really had ZERO chance before shouting at us.

With that we can be in it to win it, using the science and the alchemy to give us a gold heart and winning Sybils. Unfourtnatley the game then makes a pretty bleh error in judgment, as Sybil realizes she still wants abe and.. runs off to apologize to the bastard

Yeah this joke is all kinds of messed up. I get her going back IS the joke, that he's bad for her.. but it just comes off stupid, and mildly sexist as it feeds into the old "oh women like jerks" sterotypes instead of "abusive relationships happen". I mean it's a lot to ask sam and max to be realistic, so i'm fine with that but it's not a lot to ask them to actually be funny if their going to do something this annoying.

So on that sour note the climax. We get our souls back and fight jurgen, who has a plan.. of.. some sort. Anyways we can't stake him because we're too slow, so we toss the soul mater to jurgen's monster pull the lever kronk and swap bodies, using his to finally put this chapter to it's eternal rest... but not before flint comes in and tragically jurgen's monster dies.

I'm.. still not over it but i've been asured he returns somehow. And there's no time to punch flint for this as it turns out the reason he dived in guns a blazing to see us earlier is that he needs our help: bosco isn't just missing... he's NOWHERE ON EARTH

Night of the Raving dead is one of my faviorite chapters writing wise, with lots of clever jokes, an all timer villian and tons of my faviorite characters.. and abe. The abe stuff drags it down slightly, but everything else is so good this is easily my second faviorite chapter of the games thus far behind Save the World's The Mafia, the Mole and the Meatball.

It still suffers from some of this games overarching issues: the puzzles are more obtuse, the writing can be a bit mean spirited, and I don't have a third thing. Beyond Time and Space thus far isn't BAD, and has legs up on it's predecessor with gorgeous environments, but it still feels a bit of a step back from the previous one. It's got a bigger budget.. but it's just not as fun as the later chapters of save the world. It's not a bad game, the writing is as sharp as ever and most of your terrible actions are too over the top to not be funny, but it dosen't have quite the charm the first one did.

Next Time: I .. genuinely dont' know. The descrption for this one is more vauge. the only thing I know for sure is we'll finally meet THEM

Thanks for reading

[uruncletobi]

jealous Astarion and clever Ilmrae not much more to it ೃ⁀➷ enjoy

“This place makes me run cold, and that’s really saying something.” Karlach shook an invisible chill off of her body as the party sauntered into Reithwin Town. The Shadow-Cursed Land had a sinister air about it but something about this desolate town was particularly grim. The signs of former life decorated the area like a grotesque reminder of all that were taken by the curse. There was no turning a frightful eye, no way of escaping the plight at hand. Even with the large glowing moon lantern, Ilmrae shivered at the thought of dark corners, and necrotic imbued monsters. Both of which the party had plenty of experience with. It had been a couple days since their first arrival at the Last Light Inn and they were beyond tired. Even Ilmrae, leader and under-dark dweller themselves, was ready to see the sun.

“From stinking swap to this nightmarish hell realm-you really do spoil me, darling.” Astarion quipped, batting sarcastic eyes at Ilmrae. They rolled their eyes at his comment.

The Moonrise Towers would not be far off according to Jaheira’s instruction. When they arrived, Ilmrae was not sure what to expect. So, all things considered, Reithwin Town would at least be detour enough to give their fearless leader time to think.

“The Waning Moon?” Karlach read out loud, the dingy sign hanging in front of the building. “What’s say we pop in there?”

“Certainly can’t fair much worse in there, than we already have being out here.” Gale responded

“And maybe there’s booze!” The tiefling beamed, elbowing the wizard a bit harder than she realized.

Ilmrae turned her gaze to Astarion and then back at the tavern, nodding their head towards it like an invitation.

“Great gods-you want to go in there? To do what? Toast to our parasitic infection?” The vampire huffed. “Well, not when you put it that way, no.” Karlach sighed.

“C’mon you undead grouch, lets live a little! Beside’s standing out here is giving the creeps. I wanna go in.” She whined.

Astarion looked at Ilmrae as if to ask for help, to back him up but they were already heading towards the entrance of the bar. “I really am the only one with any sort of eloquence around here.” He exhaled, dragging his feet towards the entrance.

Pushing the main door open, the party was met with an all too familiar odor. Death. Ilmrae quickly took note of several zombie stumbling about the bar. They braced themselves, a green cloud of eldritch energy swirling from their hands.

“Wait.” Karlach said stepping forward. “I don’t think these guys are out to get us. Just let me try something.”

“Karlach-don’t!” Ilmrae hissed. “OI! STINKY!” Karlach bleated, waving her axe around teasingly.

One of the undead patrons lifted it’s head in response. It’s eyes were cloudy with infection, and it’s limbs hung loosely by it’s sides, but it did not approach. It simply cocked it’s head to one side confused and then ambled forward, clearly disinterested in picking a fight with the group.

“Gods Karlach, what was that for?” Ilmrae groused. “Dealt with a zombie or two in my day. Just wanted to make sure they weren’t some super shadow powered freaks.”

“Right because we haven’t run into enough of those, have we?” The vampire mocked. Ilmrae ran a hand through their hair before speaking again but was cut off by the sudden introduction of another voice.

“YOU THERE! COME SIT. DRINK!”

The party peered around the banisters to get a better look at the one charging the thundering orders. Towering behind the bar stood an impressively large undead elf. He wore a haphazardly sewn leather mask that only showed his right eye, and on his back; a massive barrel of mysterious liquid that gurgled with his every move. Apart from his stature the elf was also outstanding in his mass. Each limb appeared waterlogged, swelling beyond its capacity and his stomach bigger still. A deep cavernous suture ran down the length of his gut, either side of it puckered and bruised. With every step he took Ilmrae found themselves bracing for it to break open like a damn, releasing a most foul river of entrails and fermented alcohol.

“SIT. DRINK. TELL TALES!”

Ilmrae eyed the group before cautiously approaching the bar, signaling for the rest of them to stay back. The elf swung his arm backward, elbowing one of the valves on the barrel and it spurted a stream of steaming liquid. A substance Ilmrae was unfamiliar, and quite frankly, uneasy about. “GO ON THEN! DRINK. LET IT BE DRUNK.”

Astarion narrowed his gazed. He didn’t trust the hunk of flesh bartender and feared for a moment that Ilmrae might be so naive as to drink the strange beverage. Ilmrae liked a good time more than the next drow but they weren’t stupid. Drinking that concoction most likely meant turning into one of those cloudy-eyed, undead barflies and they knew better than to accept plain offers from strangers.

The drow grabbed the gauntlet and appeared to throw the drink back with such gusto, it made the entire party’s breath hitch. It was all an act of course. Ilmrae pretended to wince at the strong flavor, before flashing the party a sly grin. Karlach visible relaxed, prepared to scold them but she was cut off.

“NOW, TELL TALES! GUTS AND GLORY! STEEL AND SEDUCTION.” The undead barkeep tossed back his own serving of the mysterious liquid, stumbling a bit as he spoke. The barrel on his back glugging horribly with it. Ilmrae studied his position, deciding on if they could be a convincing liar in this situation, and if it was a good idea at all.

“C’MON! STORIES, I WANT A GOOD STORY!” The elf slammed his fist on the bar, rattling the entire thing. Ilmrae understood his urgency and began spinning a tale about an unjust ruler. One that ended with him being gutted by his own people. The elf listened silently until the very end. When the drow was finished, he cocked an eyebrow at them. Not completely convinced by the story but entertained nonetheless. “MORE! DRINK. AMUSE ME!”

“Darling! I love your stories as much as the next bloated oaf but don’t you think playtime with the bartender is over?” Astarion gestured at Ilmrae to wrap up the charade. His prominent nose pointed to the sky in annoyance. Someone was getting bored. Ilmrae held the vampires gaze until he was forced to look away, completely vexed. He huffed something about ‘a waste of time’ to Karlach before turning around completely.

In response Ilmrae simulated a long chug of the mystery drink, and started up on their next tale. One that featured themselves as the main character. A quiet night, the moon hanging overhead peering down on the scene below. One where Ilmrae and Karlach find themselves tangled up together in her tent and they didn’t miss a beat. From first kiss to climax, the details were so fleshed out you would have thought it were all true.

“I hear you loud and clear, soldier! You come see me next time you need something to warm you up!” Karlach nudged the vampire playfully, who was clenching his jaw to keep from interjecting as Ilmrae’s story came to an end.

“SPLENDID! MORE. MORE!” The elf chortled dreadfully, while rapping his cup on the table.

“I think we’ve all heard quite enough.” The vampire spat out the last two words, his carmine iris’ whet with jealousy. Ilmrae stood up from the bar, meeting Astarion’s gaze. “Very creative, I didn’t know you had such an impressive imagination.” He sneered as he turned to join them on their way out.

“NO! DON’T LEAVE! DRINK. STAY.”

The group quickened their pace as they left the tavern, the sound of heavy footsteps, and thick glugging following behind.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When the group finally arrived back at camp, they were still laughing over Ilmrae’s storytelling escapade; Karlach throwing around half serious seductions, and Gale recounting the tale with shakespearian eloquence. Ilmrae had tried to downplay their teasing, seeing how Astarion had spent the entire trip home, silent. By the time they arrived home he hadn’t even bid any of them good night, not even his companion. In fact he moved with such swiftness, the drow had not noticed until the others had turned in shortly after.

“My dove,” Ilmrae cooed, peeling the front of the tent back. “Not poking around Karlach’s tent tonight, I see. What changed your mind? Enlighten me.” He said sharply. Each syllables curled around his lips like they were refusing to leave him. He was cold and appeared completely disinterested despite his words.

“Astarion,” They paused, getting on their knees to meet his far off gaze. “I have only, and always wanted you.” Ilmrae reached their hand to cradle the vampires chin, but was met with a larger gap between them as he leaned away their touch. “No,” He sighed, his eyes narrow beneath his brow. Ilmrae’s stomach dropped, and for a moment, could sworn they were falling. “Prove it.” “What?” They whispered.

“I said, prove it.” The vampire leaned in, nipping softly at their neck. Ilmrae’s concern slid of their face, revealing a new expression. “As you wish.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“You wound me, Astarion.” Karlach gripped her chest, feigning a gruesome death. “I really thought I had a chance for a moment there.” Astarion stood confidently, chest puffed and hands gesturing about. Ilmrae smiled as they emerged from his tent to join the two. “Gods! There you are! I gotta tell you soldier, I haven’t heard sounds like that since I was in Avernus.”

A thick blush covered Ilmrae’s face, but they didn’t turn away. The drow beamed at their lover. “What can I say, he’s a really really great storyteller.”

Astarion grinned, clearly feeling fully satiated by the whole scenario. There was nothing he loved more than a clean victory, the idea that everyone in camp was more assured than ever, that Ilmrae was his, and he was theirs.