#oh junior you’re so evil

[artist-heart83]

UUUUUUGHHHHH THEY LOOK SO COOL!!!!! I love this hehehe 💕💕💕

Glad you like the kiddos, I really proud of them :]

Really appreciate all the drawings that you have made, I reaaallly love them

Also one of the ideas when I choose Roger Rabbit as their costumes, was making Hank dress up as Jessica, because Hops wanna see the world burning and piss Hank, but there is not way he is using a dress so he politely asked Viktor to make the change of costumes

Wanna know while I realize if I ended up choosing Team Dark for Hops, Viktor and Hank?

Sonic fandubs, definitely a good reason to convince me. So expect me using your designs as reference :]

OOOOOOOO YIPPEEE!!!

Now what if I told you I impulsively made a "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" version after I sent you the Team Dark version? What if I couldn't stop thinking about your cool as hecc smg4 fankids??

And a comic to go with them! (The comic in question being what drove me to draw them in the "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" version)

[agaypanic]

Hii I’d like to request Regina having a crush on reader but reader has a hard time liking her back cause of what was written about reader in the burn book (with a fluff ending??) thank you!

Who Wrote This? (Regina George X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Even though all that had happened junior year was forgiven, what was written about you in that wretched burn book still tugged at you mind. It makes it hard for you to warm up to Regina, who just wants to be with you.

A/N: regina wrote mean ass shit in the burn book so a warning for that ig

***

“Regina, if you keep staring at her, she might think you’re crazy.” The lacrosse team giggled as they watched Regina watch you. She was packing her bag after practice when she caught sight of you coming out of the school library.

“Oh, shut up.” She said, not bothering to take her eyes off of you. 

This wasn’t the first time Regina’s friends had caught her looking at you. Ever since sophomore year, after being sat next to you in one of her classes, it was like she couldn’t get you out of her head. No matter how many boyfriends, or more like boy toys, she had, or how many people she slept with. When it was all over, she still thought about you, who was nothing but kind and sweet to her despite her reputation of being an evil Plastic.

“When are you gonna go talk to her?” Dina, one of Regina’s teammates, nudged her arm. “You’re clearly, like, in love with her.”

“I can’t.” She answered, now somber. “I’m pretty sure she completely hates me.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but Regina didn’t know that. From how you acted now, like she repulsed you, it seemed like you despised her. And she knew it was all her fault.

Everyone except for you had gotten over what was written about them in the burn book. The moment you read what had been written about you, what people seemed to think of you, you realized that Regina George was a two-faced mega bitch and would never change. It didn’t matter how nice you were, or how many notes or pens you had let her borrow, or how genuine she seemed around you. She would always think she was above everyone, and the people below were as meaningless and bothersome as gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

You knew she was different now, like she had really grown. But you didn’t buy it for a second. So you kept your distance, speeding off or changing seats whenever Regina tried getting close to you. Yet there was a small part of you that was hopeful about the fact that she was better now, that she wasn’t so mean.

After zipping up your bag, you looked up and locked eyes with Regina on the soccer field. Even though she was far away, she could see you clench your jaw before storming off to your car.

She couldn’t do this anymore. No matter how much you tried to avoid her, she needed to talk to you.

***

You loved spending your free period in the library. You were able to catch up on homework or studying without getting distracted. Plus, Regina never came in here.

You heard the door open but didn’t look up from your notebook, where you copied notes from your textbook. Footsteps came near you, but you figured they were going to a seat past you.

But then someone sat down in the chair next to you. You looked up in the confusion, but that soon turned into an expression of annoyance.

“Please,” Regina whispered, grabbing your wrist before you could try to back your things and leave. You glared at her, and she had to force herself not to wince at your harshness. “Please, Y/n, I just wanna talk.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Just hear me out.” Regina pleaded, trying to stay quiet. She scooted her chair closer to you, and was surprised that you didn’t lean back or scoot away. “Hear me out, and then when I’m done, I’ll leave you alone forever. I promise.” 

It pained her to promise you that, but she figured it was the only way you’d listen to her.

You stared at her momentarily before you sighed and relaxed slightly in your seat.

“Fine.” You said. “But make it quick.”

Regina nodded, trying to get her thoughts together. To be honest, she didn’t really think she’d make it this far.

“I’m sorry.” She started. “Really, really sorry. What I wrote about you in that book, I didn’t mean it, and I regret writing it every day. You were one of the only people in this school that I genuinely liked, and I ruined what little we had because I wrote something stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid.” You interjected, bitterness in your tone. “It was mean, Regina.” You turned your seat to face her better. She was glad that you were finally looking at her without running away, but hated the look of disdain and hurt on your face. “I think about what you wrote about me every day. It’s practically burned into my brain at this point. ‘Y/n L/n is a skank that no one would touch with a ten-foot pole. That-’”

“‘That nerdy bitch will end up alone.’” Regina finished the quote, her voice meek and cheeks red from embarrassment. “I remember.”

“I’m glad you have such a good memory.” You said sarcastically. “If you wrote that about someone you say you genuinely liked, I wonder what you’d write about your own mother.”

“Y/n…” Regina sighed. This was definitely not going the way she had wanted. But at the same time, she expected this to be a sour interaction. “I didn’t mean what I wrote.”

“Oh really? What, was it just a spur-of-the-moment decision to cut out my school picture and write that?”

“I had to write it, Y/n.” The absurdity of that statement shocked you into silence, so Regina took it as a chance to continue before you told her you didn’t want to hear it. “I put myself in there to frame Cady, Gretchen, and Karen for making the book. But then I remembered that you weren’t in there. I never wanted you in that book, but I didn’t want you to be blamed for it if Mr. Duvall realized you weren’t in it.”

“So…” You were trying to wrap your head around Regina’s words. “You wrote all that stuff… to protect me?”

“I hated every minute of it.” Regina seemed so serious; she looked so desperate for you to believe her. “It was so hard to write that, because I didn’t believe any of it. The truth is… I’ve actually liked you for a long time, Y/n.” You looked at her bewildered, and she took your silence as a cue to continue. “That’s why I had never put you in the book. I remember always pretending to forget or lose my pencils so I could talk to you because you’d always let me borrow yours. Or I’d leave one of my books at home, hoping that you’d share yours with me.” Regina took a deep breath, reminiscing on the little moments she had with you before she ruined it all. “It’s so corny, but I never felt as on top of the world as I did when you were talking to me.”

You stared at Regina, completely shocked. This was not at all what you were expecting when she begged you to listen to her. At the most, you thought it’d be a little apology, and then she’d leave. Instead, you had gotten a full-on love confession from Regina George, who, for the first time probably ever, looked scared as she waited for your response.

“I’ll leave you alone now.” She said after another minute of awkward silence. “I promise I won’t try to bother you anymore. And again, I’m really sorry.”

Regina stood up, but your hand shot out and grabbed her arm to stop her. She looked down at you to find that you were already staring at her.

“I…” You started, still trying to process the situation. “I guess I can forgive you. And I suppose I could give you another chance. You know, like a do-over.”

“Really?” Regina smiled hopefully, lowering back down into her chair. You realized your hand was still clasped around her arm, so you let go and cleared your throat.

“Yeah. I mean, after all, you gotta make it up to me. Emotional damages and all.” 

You returned to the notes and textbook you had neglected, found where you had left off, and started writing again. Regina took this as her cue to leave, and she wondered what would happen after this. But before she could stand up again, your free hand drifted to hers on the table, pinky laying over hers. She smiled and curled her small finger around yours.

You stayed there until the end of your free period. And when the two of you went to your next class, which you shared, Regina was both relieved and ecstatic when you sat in the seat next to her without a second thought.

[nonasuch]

here is a fun little star wars scenario that has been pinging around inside my head like a screensaver:

so let’s say there’s some very zealous, very low-ranking fresh young Imperial officer on duty the day they take the Senator from Alderaan into custody. 

and he is very very nervous because a) he’s been here for like a week and b) none of that week required him to be in a room with Darth Vader. which he now is. so he is trying to focus very very hard on Doing Everything Exactly According To Protocol, as a means of not focusing on the seven-foot evil wizard standing fifteen feet away.

and part of the protocol for processing new prisoners is to make a new file for them in the prisoner database, and enter all their biographical details and vital statistics and a gene sample and their known associates and the nature of their terrible crimes against the Empire and so on. which he does! very meticulously!

except the computer keeps throwing an error message. the stupid thing keeps beeping at him, this awful grating little noise that makes his shoulders ratchet up tighter and tighter every time it honks at him, and he can’t fix it and Darth Vader is right over there—

except oh god oh fuck the beeping noise must be annoying Darth Vader, too, because he’s coming over here and our poor junior officer is convinced he’s going to die before he even lives long enough to send his first paycheck home to his poor widowed mother —

he stammers out an apology. Vader just stares at him. he swears he’ll figure out the problem right away, sir, it’s probably a bug in the system, it’s just that for some silly reason it keeps saying this gene sample doesn’t match the one on file for the Senator so he can’t get her logged as a new prisoner just yet —

“Dismissed,” says Vader. the poor kid flees, gratefully.

Vader considers the matter. in fact, his underling was correct: the gene sample, which he saw taken through his very own helmet lenses, does not match the official record of Senator Leia Organa, heir to the throne of Alderaan. so: perhaps the sample on record was falsified. not impossible, but very, very difficult. and ordinarily a crime attempted by the lowly and desperate. he cannot see any need for it, in the daughter of a queen.

another possibility presents itself. Alderaan has no history of using royal doubles, as some worlds do. but Bail Organa has worked closely with royal houses where the practice is long-established. perhaps he was inspired. perhaps the girl they captured is not Leia Organa at all.

Vader runs the gene sample against the ship’s database. it is woefully incomplete, of course, containing only a fraction of the Empire’s billions of citizens: the ship’s own complement, a selection of known criminals and Rebels they might encounter, high-ranking officials whose identity must be confirmed should the Emperor require their presence. unlikely that this girl, whoever she is, would have a record here, or even a partial match—

the computer beeps at him. it’s a cheerful beep, this time, not the error message that stymied the junior officer. the computer reports that the gene sample is a partial match for Pooja Naberrie, the Senator from Naboo. they are, with eighty-nine percent probability, first cousins.

and Vader just. kind of stands there. for a minute.

when he goes to Leia’s cell, there’s no interrogation droid with him. he goes in. he shuts the door behind him. he stands there, silent, for frankly a worryingly long time, until Leia has run through her entire stockpile of  “how dare you, I’m a member of the Senate on a humanitarian mission” and “whatever you want, you can’t possibly think I would be of any help” and “well, if you’re going to interrogate me, get on with it already” and “are you even listening to me?” and  falls silent herself. 

Vader has been listening to her. he has also been listening to the Force, which seems to think that she’s not lying. obviously the humanitarian mission part is bullshit, that goes without saying. but the “I’m Senator Leia Organa” parts and the “I won’t help you” parts? yeah. he searched his feelings. he knows them to be true. the Force is singing in his head, bright and clear, in a way it hasn’t for nearly twenty years.

there’s still Tarkin to deal with, though. Vader turns and leaves the cell without a word.

Tarkin wants to blow up Alderaan. this is unacceptable, obviously, and Vader forbids it on the grounds that the Queen and the Viceroy possess vital intelligence, not disclosed to their daughter, that must be acquired. said intelligence being, not that he’s saying this out loud, how the fuck Bail got his hands on his daughter, and who else knows about it.

“the fate of the galaxy rests on it,” is what he does say out loud. from the way the Force harmonizes with his words, that might even be true.

so the Death Star just. parks there. in an incredibly threatening orbit around the planet. they issue a demand that the Organas surrender themselves, or else, but apparently the happy couple just left for a low-tech weekend retreat in the mountains, what awful timing, they’re sending someone to fetch them right away. Vader shuts himself up in his quarters, to seethe and watch the surveillance feed from Leia’s cell. he’s not really paying attention to much else. 

and it’s not like a random freighter getting tractored in for being an incredibly obvious smuggling vessel is the kind of thing you’d alert Darth Vader over, anyway. 

so he’s still sitting there, one great big thought filling up his whole entire head, watching Leia take a frustration nap, when her cell door opens. 

and a trooper comes in.

and the trooper takes off his helmet.

and he says, “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”

(continued here)

[kimmie2me]

Greeny Ghost

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Ghost!Midoriya Izuku x AFAB!Reader

.....

The alley stretched out longer than you’d thought, shadows swallowing the corners, broken only by dim streetlights. You’d walked down plenty of places like this before, but this one was unnervingly quiet. Your friends were supposed to be with you, daring you into the so-called “haunted” alley, but when you turned back, you saw—no one. Just empty space.

“Those jerks,” you muttered, kicking a stray pebble with an irritated huff. Just your luck to get abandoned in the middle of a ghost story.

That’s when you saw him: a faintly glowing figure at the far end of the alley, barely visible in the low light, his form flickering like static on an old TV. He wore a junior high uniform, like he was frozen in time, but it was his eyes, wide and curious, that had you rooted to the spot.

"What the hell." You blurted out, which caused the ghost to jump a bit.

“You… you can see me?” he asked, sounding more surprised than you felt.

“Guess so,” you replied warily, feeling your fists clench. You took a step back, but he stayed still, watching you with something close to wonder. “A-are you the… ghost? Y'know.. that one ghost?”

“No. I mean, yes, but… not like… like an evil ghost!” he said, frowning as he waved his hands in the air, trying to seem harmless. “I don’t hurt anyone or anything. I just… hang around.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? So why are there all those rumors about people going missing in this alley?”

He let out a dramatic sigh. “I have no idea! I’ve been here for years, and no one ever went missing because of me.” His arms crossed, and he gave you an indignant look, clearly offended. “I keep watch over the place. There’s a run-down building nearby, and sketchy people use it for… whatever sketchy people do. I’m just here observing them, making notes sometimes.”

“Uh-huh,�� you said, unconvinced. “Sounds like something an evil ghost would say. Plus, why would anyone believe some… green-haired ghost taking notes?”

His frown deepened and he sighed. "Really? 'Green-haired ghost? I have a name and identity, you know? My name is Midoriya Izuku."

You shrugged, giving him a skeptical look. “Sure, whatever. and I'm giving you a new identity: ‘Greeny Ghost.’ Also, how am supposed to trust you? You're a ghost and the movies basically explain what you're supposed to do. Just don't haunt me or I'll pour holy water down your throat.”

He threw his hands up. “Why are you making this harder than it has to be? I’m just here because I, well, exist here.” His voice softened a bit, frustration giving way to a hint of sadness. “It’s not like I can go anywhere else.”

“Yeah, and every creepy spirit says that before they drag you into some other world and keep you locked up for eternity,” you replied with a smirk, folding your arms in a show of exaggerated defiance. “Sorry, but I’m not falling for the ‘poor trapped ghost’ act.”

Izuku groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as if your words were physically painful. “You remind me so much of Kacchan! In a bad way!”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Uh-huh. And what, or who, the hell is ‘Kacchan’?”

Izuku looked at you, his face twisting into an expression halfway between exasperation and resignation. “Kacchan! My… a friend from junior high. Sort of. He’s… well, actually, no, he’s nothing like you.” Izuku seemed to rethink this, blinking in realization. “He’s a lot worse.”

“Wow. So you’re saying I’m less tolerable than some guy named Kacchan, who, by the sound of it, doesn’t sound like someone with a good rep?” you said with mock offense, pressing a hand to your chest. “Way to compliment a girl, Greeny-Ghost.”

He looked like he was about three seconds away from floating back through the alley wall, giving up on this ridiculous exchange.

You look at him a bit more closer, and you note he looked about your age, but… different. Ghostly, of course, but there was something else, something in his eyes that almost seemed… lonely. You didn’t know if you believed him, but something about him made you stay.

“What’re you even doing here?” you finally asked, taking a careful step forward. "Are you trapped here or something?"

“Besides not being evil?” he shot back, still salty. But when he saw you weren’t about to leave, he sighed, softening. “A villain got me… in this alley. I was just a kid, and I never really… left, I guess. People pass by now and then, but nobody usually sees me.” He shifted, looking suddenly uncertain. “Actually, you’re the first one to ever talk to me.”

You studied him, noticing the worn edges of his uniform, the tired, resigned look in his eyes. He seemed less scary and more… well, kind of tragic. Still, you weren’t about to let your guard down. “Yeah, well, maybe people hear the creepy noises you make,” you challenged. “Y'know it freaks them out.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh! You mean the notes? I’m trying to keep track of the activity around here,” he said defensively. “Besides, no one told me my note-taking was creepy.”

“Right,” you said, biting back a smirk. “So you’re a scholarly ghost, huh?”

A light blush appeared on his cheeks. “Look, I don’t get many hobbies! Ghosts don’t have a lot to do except observe.” He crossed his arms, giving you a quick glare before his expression softened again. “Anyway, I’m not the villain here. The creepy noises? That’s just me muttering to myself or something.”

Your arms relaxed a bit, the eerie feeling of the alley giving way to something else entirely. His earnestness was unexpected, and honestly, a little endearing.

“Alright, Greeny,” you relented, softening just a little. “Maybe you’re not as evil as they say.”

He sighed, looking relieved but still a little skeptical himself. “That’s… comforting, I guess.”

You shrugged, shoving your hands in your pockets. “Guess I’ll see you around.” You turned, giving him a small wave as you walked away, his faint figure watching you until you disappeared around the corner.

.....

Three days later, you found yourself back at the alley. You weren’t sure why—maybe it was the way he’d looked at you, or that stupid hopefulness in his voice. This time, you came with something: a small letter in your hand, the ink smudged slightly where you’d clutched it nervously.

You called out, half-expecting him not to show, but he appeared, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Back already?” he teased, a lopsided smile on his face. "

“Don’t get too excited,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone casual. You extended the letter. “It’s… from your mom. I found her, told her I met you… and I convinced her to write something for you. Don't ask why I did it. You looked so miserable here, it made me miserable.”

His mouth dropped open, his expression turning from surprise to something you couldn’t quite name. He took the letter in shaking hands, his gaze fixed on it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“She… she actually remembered me?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He looked up, tears pooling in his eyes. “Thank you… I can’t believe you’d go out of your way for… for me.”

You shrugged, feeling a little awkward under the weight of his gratitude. “Figured you could use a reminder that you’re not just… some alley ghost.”

He laughed a little through his tears, wiping his eyes. “I’m really not an evil ghost,” he said, voice soft and grateful.

“Yeah, well,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a small grin. “You’re still Greeny Ghost to me.”

Izuku blinked, visibly surprised by your small grin, and for a second he just stood there, processing it. Then, with an awkward but excited energy, he smiled back.

“D-do you want to, uh… stick around for a bit? I could, um, show you what I’ve written down,” he stammered, gesturing to a tattered notebook that materialized in his hands.

You chuckled. “Sure. Show me what a scholarly ghost looks like.”

He lit up, practically vibrating with excitement as he began flipping through his notes, talking fast as he pointed out every bit of information he’d gathered. You listened, half amused and half impressed by his careful, detailed observations. Each page was crammed with tiny, meticulous handwriting that covered everything from people he’d seen pass by to strange objects left in the alley over the years.

“I try to keep track of everything,” he explained earnestly. “It’s not like anyone really notices me, so I figured… maybe someday, if someone needed to know anything about this area, I’d have it all written down.”

“Sounds like you take your ghostly duties pretty seriously, huh?” you teased, glancing through his observations. "Well, I try to be a hero in my own way" He replied with a small smile. As you skimmed a particularly eerie note about some “sludge villain” incident that had occurred nearby, a thought hit you.

“Wait, was it… the sludge villain? Was that what got you here?” you asked, looking up to find his expression turn somber, yet resigned.

“Yeah,” he murmured, a shadow passing over his face. “It all happened so fast. I didn’t even see him coming. They said… All Might couldn’t get there in time.” He paused, then shrugged, as if he’d long made peace with it. “Guess it’s just the way it happened.”

You looked at him thoughtfully, and something in you softened. “You know… I think All Might was really sad about what happened to you.”

Izuku’s eyes went wide, almost panicked, like you’d just told him he’d accidentally disappointed a beloved friend. “S-sad? I didn’t want him to feel sad! I mean, All Might is my hero! He’s… he’s… I never wanted to make him feel like that. I was always cheering him on!”

You attempt to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, which failed as it phases right through. After a second try, you deem the gesture to be futile. “Hey, it’s okay. All Might probably knew that. And who knows? I bet he even came to your funeral.”

Izuku looked up, the panic giving way to a kind of hopeful wonder. “You… you think so?”

“Of course,” you said, grinning a bit. “And hey, maybe that ‘Kacchan’ guy you mentioned showed up too. You’re not as alone as you’d imagine, Greeny.”

He looked at you, eyes brimming with a strange mixture of gratitude and disbelief, as if no one had ever told him something like that before. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice soft and full of warmth. “For saying that. It… it actually means a lot.”

You shrugged it off, feeling a little flustered under his earnest gaze. “Yeah, well, can’t leave a ghost like you feeling down, right?”

Izuku chuckled, the sound light and unexpectedly comforting. “I guess not,” he agreed, eyes still shining with gratitude as he turned back to his notes, flipping to a fresh page. “You mind if I write down that you came back? I think… I think I’d like to remember it.” You nod.

"Yeah, sure you can."

From that moment on, he followed you like a quiet shadow, slipping into conversations, teasing you as much as you teased him, and reminding you of the friend you’d found in the most unexpected of places.

[whenthedeeppurplefalls]

A Request

A lumpy touch where’s Waldo fic snipped, based off a post by @nami-ramen , if you guys like it, I’ll write more, (also nami this is what I wrote for your post, just as its own thing)

“It’s simple, really.” Waldo said, four smiles reflecting back at the detective. His doppelgängers waited patiently in the shadows, ready to move at a moments notice. “You have the power to stop this. You’ve always had the power.”

The detective shifted back and forth, eyes nervously darting to the doppelgängers and back. “Wh-What do you want? What do I have to do?”

The impossibly wide grin widened only further. Long, spiderlike pale fingers curled and uncurled on the cane handle, restless and anticipatory. “Be ours.”

…

The detectives heart skipped a beat. He stepped back reflexively, hands clutched to his chest as though burned. “I-I don’t understand.”

With snakelike movements, Waldo leaned in, stalking forward not unlike a snake watching a mouse it longs to devour, head kept still as his body moved. “We have wanted you for so long,” He said in a dangerously smooth, soothing voice. “To live with you, hold you, watch you, sleep beside you, let no one but us touch you,” The detectives skin prickled. “We want to live with you, in your home.”

Silence. The detective couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to. His mind was a whirl of racing, panicking symbols, cluttered and abstract images of mice in mousetraps, boiling frogs.

“In return,” Waldo said relishingly, “We will take very good care of you. Of your child-“

“You won’t touch Junior,” The detective blurted out, reflexively defending his baby. “I won’t let you-“

“You misunderstand me, detective. We won’t hurt you. We won’t hurt your baby. We’ll care for you…” his glasses gleamed. “Just as a good…. Friend…. Should.”

The detective didn’t like how he said ‘friend’. “How can I possibly trust you?”

Waldo tilted his head.

“You’re Right.” He said with a shrug. “You can’t. But do you know what you can trust, my dear?”

The detective stared him down. “What?”

“That for saying no, we will kill three times as much as before.”

The detective went pale. Stepped back again. “No.” He blurted. “No. No. You can’t do that.”

“Can’t we? We’re more than capable. You know we’ve been holding back.”

“But you-“

“So you do trust me. You trust I mean what I say.”

Fuck. He had him there.

He chewed the inside of his cheek till he tasted blood, curled and uncurled his fists in his trench coat pockets.

“You promise,” He began, “You promise not to kill anyone ever again.”

“We promise not to kill anyone as long as you are ours.” Waldo said, smiling.

“A-and, you won’t hurt Junior. You won’t hurt me-“

“We will take very good care of you. In fact, it’ll be the safest security investment you’ve ever made. You’ll sleep securely each night knowing no one will ever touch your child…” Waldo eyed him with a possessive air, and the detective was reminded of the time the coworker who had flirted with him after Wenda’s death had been found in so many pieces, they were nigh uncountable.

“…or you.” Waldo finished.

The detective took a breath. “Promise me. Say it out loud.”

Waldo chuckled. So did the doppelgängers. It reminded him of an adult snickering at the silly requests of a child.

“Oh my dear, we promise.” He offered his hand forward.

After a long moment of deliberation, the detective took it, intent on shaking.

Moments later, he was dragged into a tight and all encompassing hug, arms squeezing against him so tightly he couldn’t move, forced to shake along with the killer as his thin body was wracked with evil laughter.

————-

The detective looked wearily into the mirror. It was late. He hadn’t been sleeping well, for obvious reasons. Losing Wenda had seemed to age him ten years, despite him not even turning thirty yet. He’d seen a grey hair the other day. God help him.

He washed his face for the third time in the sink. Junior had long since gone to bed. He was in his pajamas, his teeth were brushed- he should have gone to sleep an hour ago.

He was putting it off, he knew it. He’d been putting it off all night, more than reluctant to go to his bedroom. He knew what was waiting there.

The thought of sleeping on the couch entered his mind, as did pulling an all nighter- but it wasn’t worth it. It wouldn’t change anything.

He sighed. Looked into the mirror again at the sad, lonely, pathetic widower he’d become.

Then he turned out the lights, and headed for the bedroom.

He couldn’t resist one last peek into Junior’s room, relieved to see it empty of anyone except for his baby. He closed the door again, steeling himself.

He trod down the hall. There were blank spots on the wallpaper where pictures had once been. They’d been removed, though not by him.

He waited outside the door for a moment, then forced himself to open it.

“What took you so long?” Waldo said, reclining on the bed. The other Waldo’s stood around it, waiting for him.

The detective made no response. Instead, fate accepted, he approached the bed silently, pulled back the covers, and got in.

That was the funny thing, he thought distantly as the thin, wiry arms encircled him. Two arms quickly became four, became six, then eight, as the rest joined in to hold him close. He’d used to sleep on the very edge of the bed, or the couch. Anything to put distance between him and them. It never worked. Somehow, he always ended up in their grip.

“Go to sleep, my dear. We’re all you need.” The breath made the hair on his neck stand up.

At the very least they’d kept their promise, he thought.

That was nice.

[soft--dragon]

Snow Day

Just a small drabble for you guys to snack on before I post the bigger one :D

Word Count: 1,177

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

Casey was practically vibrating with excitement, booted feet doing mini stomps - a stim he’d picked up from Donnie at a young age - as he looked out over the white powered landscape of New York City Park. Mikey, who was stood right beside him snickered at his child-like behavior, giving a friendly grin.

“You’ve really never seen snow before, huh Junior?” 

Casey shook his head rapidly, eyes so wide as if he was trying to memorise every single detail of the park. “There was never white snow in the future, it was like ash, but this… Michelangelo, this is amazing!” 

Mikey’s brow dipped slightly at the mention of the harsh, desolate future Casey had come from, but he gave the boy a gentle nudge to dispel the memory. “Mikey, Casey, call me Mikey,” he reminded lightly.

Whether Casey registered the soft words was up for debate, the boy’s spellbound expression never wavering when Leo seemed to drop out of nowhere to sling an arm around Casey’s shoulders. 

“Not a bad view, aye Casey?” he grinned.

“It’s incredible,” the young warrior murmured, his smile lifting his eyes.

“Well what are you waiting for? Come on!” Leo grabbed his students hand and ran, dragging along Casey who almost fell flat on his face from the sudden force.

“Wait up Leo!” Mikey yelled after his brother, taking off right behind the pair, with the rest of the family in tow. 

Leo didn’t even hesitate before he dove into the snow with a gleeful whoop, dragging Casey into the soft powder and laughing when the boy just about screamed.

“JESUS! It’s cold, Leo!” “Welcome to the ice age, Jones!”

There was an audible scoff from above the two. “Incorrect Leo, the ice age was thousands of years ago when creatures such as mammoths used to roam the earth and- hey!”

A snowball smashed into the back of Donnie’s head from non-other than April who was grinning similar to a Cheshire cat. “Sorry, did I interrupt you?” 

“Yes actually, I was trying to educate Leo on his very historically inaccurate claim- ow!” A second snowball had splattered straight into Donnie’s face, the teen being thrown to the ground with the force of it. “APRIL!”

Raph high fived the girl in passing, moving to Leo and Casey who were still lying in the snow. “Don’t you two go catching a cold alright? We don’t want to get the whole fam sick.” “We’ll be fine, Raph, don’t worry,” Leo smirked up at his older brother, “We’re well protected from the cold.” “Yes, but some of us aren’t that used to winter, remember?” 

“Oh, I know.” Leo’s hand planted itself in Casey’s mop of unruly hair, messing with the black locks and making the kid yelp and squirm in protest. “I’ll keep an eye on the snow baby.”

Casey baulked from under Leo’s fingers. “The- the snow what?” Raph sighed with a small, fond smile. “If he gets sick you’re taking care of him.” “Don’t I always?”

“Fair enough.”

“I’m right here you guys.” “Hush snow baby,” Leo scooped up some snow and shoved it in Casey’s unsuspecting face, trying and failing to hide his grin at the boy’s wild screech of alarm and offence. “The adults are talking.”

The snow removed, Casey tried leaning away only for Leo’s hand to come back and to pinch his cheek. “Augh! Stop! Your hands are freezing!”

“Oh, are they actually?” Leo’s hands were then diving under Casey’s scarf to press them against his neck, and the scream the boy gave was almost ear splitting.

“NO! Off, off, off! Get away from me!” Casey scrambled across the snow to escape, only for Leo to follow with an evil gleam in his eyes. “Guys help!”

Casey, who had fallen victim to Leo’s schemes more than once, knew the outcome of this dilemma, and scrambled off the ground in an instant. He was running laps of the park, laughing over his shoulder at the turtle who was pursuing him with outstretched hands and taunting loudly. 

“Should we stop them before they fall into the lake?” Mikey asked with a laugh.

Raph shrugged, smirking. “Eh, let em tire themselves out, it’ll be easier to get them to sleep later.”

“I concur, I do not want to deal with a hyperactive Leo,” Donnie raised a hand from where he was still lying on the ground from April’s snowball attack.

The green jacketed girl rolled her eyes. “Donnie, get up.”

“Can’t. I’ve been shot.”

A scream echoed through the park, making the group whip around in alarm to where Leo and Casey were tussling on the ground, the blue coded turtle pressing his fingers underneath Casey’s scarf to target his neck. The raven haired teen was screeching at the chill spreading through his skin, bursts of laughter mingling with his yelps as Leo refused to let up. 

“LEHEHO! Stohohopihit!” 

“What? Can’t hear you Snow Baby, sorry, I’ve got ear muffs on.” 

“YOU DON'T!”

“Invisible ear muffs are the modern style Case, I thought you’d know that cause you’re from the future.”

One of Casey’s hands came up to shove at Leo’s face, the other trying to push away the turtle’s fingers assaulting his sensitive skin. “Thahat’s soho duhumb!”

Leo’s mouth dropped open and gasped loudly. “How dare you insult my invisible earmuffs, that is so mean.” 

Casey cracked an eye open to peer up at Leo smugly. “Thought you couldn’t hear me with those ear muffs?” 

Scoffing an incredulous laugh, Leo furrowed his brow playfully. “Alright, wise guy, you asked for this.” Leo lightened his touch enough so that his fingernails were just grazing along Casey’s neck, causing the boy to try and turn into a turtle himself and scrunch his head down, all the while in fits of panicked giggles.

“DahAHAamnit LehehEHEO!” He cried, grappling with the turtle’s arms to dislodge his freezing fingers. “Nohohoho!”

Using the tassels of Casey’s scarf to dust along his cheek just to be annoying, Leo cooed, “I warned you bud; insult the muffs, get the fluff.”

Pressing his cheek into the snow, Casey batted at his mentor with horribly uncoordinated movements. “Yohou suhuck!”

“Ouch, what a burn. Good thing we’re surrounded by so much ice that I can treat it.”

Casey landed a smack on his shoulder, rolling his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t roll right out of his head. “Dork,” he bit out between peals of laughter.

“Oh I’m a dork now am I? Wow, really laying it on thick with the insults today, kiddo,” Leo snorted. The attempts of ‘insulting’ Leo really weren’t really that cutting at all, he was gonna have to teach this kid some curse words to help him along. Raph may kill him for it, but he was the sensei of Jones Junior, not his big brother.  Casey did end up catching a cold from the snow, though Leo held up his promise and was vigilant during the boy’s recovery. This was his kid after all, he was always going to look out for his Snow Baby.

[justmeinadaze]

Him and I (Steddie X You)

Prequel to Without Me / Part 2: You Should Be Sad Here

A/N: ENTER WITH CAUTION! Like my previous chapters THIS WILL MAKE YOU FEEL! Its angsty and dealing with dark themes of addiction. I WILL STILL LOVE YOU IF YOU CHOOSE TO SKIP THIS STORY!

Warnings: Toxic Steddie X Fem Reader, SMUT, I wanted to show the two parts of them and how the treated her before and after they started getting worse with their vices. The first half involves loss of virginity for the reader, dirty talk, kinda rough but more passionate I would say, The second half is definitely rougher, more dirty talk, degrading (whore, slut, etc), spanking, choking, Y/N is a willing participant in both instances!

Some FLUFF, they really do love her and vice versa but unfortunately they love their addictions more.

ANGST: DARK THEMES OF ADDICTION! Steve is an alcoholic and Eddie is a drug addict. Reader mentions more in Without Me how she's addicted to them and I feel like that's explored a bit more here. She gets on them a lot about their vices and every time they are dismissive. There are mentions of their childhoods and we do get an interaction with asshole older Harrington here (he belittles Steve and smacks him).

The accident from Without Me is here but with some details. Its more about Eddie and Steve's interaction before they ran and left her. We also get a glimpse of her in the hospital waiting for them.

Again NOT A WARM FUZZY STORY! I won't blame you if you choose to skip it <3

Word Count: 7874

1982

“That was…the grossest fucking thing you two evil people have ever shown me.”, Steve shudders as the three of you exit the theater. 

You and Eddie cackle as you follow behind him out the front door. 

“Oh, don’t be a fraidy cat, Harrington. It wasn’t even scary.”, the metalhead teases.

“I thought it was creepy. What would you do if I started to transform into some evil screeching alien?”

“I would still think you’re beautiful, honey.”

“Aw, Steve Harrington, you’re so sweetheart.”, you joke as you stick out your tongue.

Tonight was a much needed reprieve from all the chaos you and your two best friends had been dealing with.  Junior year at Hawkins high was shaping up to be an exhausting one. Steve’s dad was on him much more and with more vigor than he had before reminding the younger Harrington that his future was looming just off in the distance. 

“Steven! It’s time to buckle down and really focus. No more playing around, son. You need to focus on bringing up those grades and being a better athlete so you can get into a good college. I don’t hire losers at my firm!”

The older Eddie got the worse the town and student body seemed to be with him. 

“What’s wrong, freak?!  To busy focusing on your satanic shit? Get lost and take off that fucking Dio vest! You look fucking stupid.”

He did everything he could to focus on other things but idiots like Jason Carver and the other jocks were always around to make his life hell. 

That’s probably why they both seemed to “let loose” more than usual or at least that’s how they described it to you the first time you noticed them excessively drinking and doing drugs. 

“It just takes the edge off you know?”

“Is it? Steve, you have a flask now that you carry with you. Why would you need to do that?”

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N. It’s not like I have a real problem or anything.”

“Yeah, it’s just to relax. Here, sweetheart, you look like you need to chill out for a bit.”, Eddie adds as he offers you some of the white powder from the bag you noticed on his dresser. 

“Um, no thank you. I think I’m ok weed.”, you giggle trying to laugh off the worries that bubble in your stomach. 

You had started worrying about them more and more since this past summer. When you guys started high school, you noticed a change in them that wasn’t just normal adolescences. Steve’s words started to slur more throughout the day and whenever you three would spend time together his breath would smell so strong like a bar that you’d have to take a few steps away from him so you wouldn’t cringe every time he opened his mouth. 

Eddie’s personality would shift at random points. In the mornings he would seem like the metalhead you befriended and then by lunch his behavior would be so erratic that it would frighten you sometimes. By the final bell, you would notice him staring off into the wall or even find him passed out in the back of the library.

Your mind always explained it away with different excuses almost as quickly as the ones they gave you when you asked questions. 

“Hey, do you guys want to come over? My parents are out of town this weekend.”

“Sure. Sounds like fun.”, you beam up at him.

***

You woke up that following morning on Steve’s bedroom floor with Eddie beside you and the other boy passed out leaning against the wall with his long legs stretched out towards you both. Quietly, you got up to use the bathroom, checking your reflection in the mirror before you ventured downstairs to grab some breakfast. 

Your eyes scanned the photos along the stairs, sympathy washing over you as you noticed Steve’s uncomfortable demeanor in all of them. His house always had a sad air surrounding it. It never felt exactly lived in and when his parents were home, neither seemed happy. Both he and the metalhead spent a lot of time at your place which you didn’t mind. You loved their company and you wanted them to feel safe. 

Your parents always treated them like family and that’s how you saw them as well. You knew what both boys had been through and were still going through. Anything you could do to make things easier for them, you did with little to no question. 

After opening his pantry, something immediately caught your eye. Within the trashcan were a ton of empty liquor bottles. Not just single beer containers but bottles of whiskey that should last a long time in a house with one occupant, emptied and discarded. 

“Hey Y/N. What are you doing up?”, Steve groggily asked as he entered the kitchen. 

“Steve Harrington, what is this?”, you inquire back showing him the contents within the trash. 

The man’s eyes widen and it takes him a moment before he nervously chuckles. 

“Uh, my parents had a party last week so—��

“Your parents weren’t home last week. You told me they were on a business trip which is why you spent the night at my house because you didn’t want to be alone.” The two of you stared each other down until you finally continue. “You drank all this by yourself?”

“It’s…it’s not a big deal, honey.”

“DON’T you honey me, Steven!”

“What’s going on?”, Eddie asks after loudly banging down the stairs. 

“Did you know he was drinking this much?!”, you shriek as you show him what you found.

“I mean, it could be worse, Y/N.”

“HOW?! How can it be worse?! Are you fucking kidding me?! Rock bands don’t even drink this much!”

“Y/N! Come on. You’re making this into a big deal when it’s not!”

“Fuck you! I’m not going to watch you drink yourself to death. I love you but this is excessive!”

Stomping past them both, you head for the front door but the man hastily cuts you off and blocks you from leaving with his body. 

“Y/N, please. Shit… I’m sorry, okay? You’re right. I have been going overboard lately. It’s just everything with my dad and school… I promise this will never happen again.” As your arms fold over your chest, his beautiful eyes scan your angry frame. “You’re the only one that ever cared about me, Y/N; you and Ed of course.”

You sigh as your demeanor softens. 

“I DO care about you a lot, Steve. You know you can talk to me about anything and I’ll be there for you no matter what. You both don’t have to numb yourselves the way you do.” Eddie nods as you turn towards him, his head hanging in shame. “I worry about you two so mu—"

As you swivel back towards the other boy, you’re surprised when you are met with his lips on yours. You had never been intimate with them in any fashion up until this point, always seeing them as your best friends. You’d be lying, however, if you didn’t say Steve’s lips tasted good. 

He pulled away from you for a moment, the two of you panting into each other’s mouths as you process what just happened. Before you could do anything or even respond, a ring covered hand grabbed your arm and yanked you against a bare chest as Eddie’s own lips connected with yours. 

You could still hear the other boy’s heavy breaths causing you to groan at the sound. Lifting you onto the end table by the door, the metalhead hastily tugged down your pants and panties while Steve came up beside you to lift off your shirt and toss away your bra. 

Eddie’s fingers dug into your thighs as he opened your legs wide and kneeled in front of you, making you whimper when he shoved his face into your cunt. 

“Wa-Wait. I’ve—fuck—I’ve never done anything s-sexual before.”

A heavy growl emitted from both men as the long-haired boy sucked and flicked his tongue along your clit while Steve’s lips attached to your neck. Moving his friend out of the way, he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the couch.

You watched with wide, lust blown eyes as Steve pushed his shorts down enough to free his cock, spit in his hand, and stroked it along his length. 

“St-Steve, you’re so big. It won’t fit.”

His honey brown eyes met your own and it was almost like for a moment he had forgotten it was your legs he was between. Tenderly, he leaned forward to kiss your lips. 

“It will, honey. I promise. I’ll go slow, ok? Unless…do you want me to stop? I just…you are the only one to care about us. I love you so much, Y/N. Let us make it up to you.”

Your gaze momentarily shifted to Eddie who was looking at you with the same gentleness that you saw when you first met him all those years ago. Licking your lips, you kiss him again before shaking your head. 

“Just…go slow…and keep talking to me…please.”

Your arms clung to his neck when you felt the head of his cock line up with your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat as he began pushing in and on instinct you tried to push him away from you. 

“No, no, baby. You’re ok. E-Eddie, fuck, can you—”

Eddie quickly came up to your side and held you still with his hands as Steve pushed another inch into your hole. 

“God fucking damn it, you’re so fucking tight.”

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”, the other boy whispered in your ear.

“Hurts.”

“I know, baby. It’ll feel good soon. I promise.” His lips comforted you as he kissed your cheek and your head arched back as the other boy slide further into your body. Eddie licked his fingers and reached between your bodies to rub slow circles into your bundle of nerves as Steve kept going.

“Fuck, Eddie!”, you screamed causing the boy inside you to grunt when your pussy clenched around him. 

“Y-You like that, honey? You like Eddie’s fingers on your clit. Fuck, you’re doing so good, Y/N. I’m almost all the way in.”

“Steve…you’re so big…”

His cock twitched at your words and you groaned as the pain began to slowly dull. When his hips connected with yours, your eyes rolled back as his length grazed against that sensitive spot inside of you, you didn’t even know existed. 

Leaning on to his knees, his palms held your calves as he pulled himself almost all the way out before roughly thrusting back in.

“Steve!”

“Fuck, Y/N. Keep shouting my name like that, baby.”

Eddie’s hand petted your head, as the other boy set a steady pace.

“You’re doing so well, pretty girl. You look so beautiful like this. You deserve to feel good to. Does it still hurt?” He smiled when you shook your head. “How does it feel?”

“G-Good.”

“Yeah? Tell him, sweetheart.”

As your eyes scanned over Steve you couldn’t help but marvel at him as you view him through this new filter. Usually, you only saw him as a friend. You never really thought about his gorgeous eyes or perfect lips. The way his broad hairy chest looked so sexy glistening with sweat. You never noticed that one lock of hair that fell just so as his head tilted forward or how low and gravelly his voice was when he was turned on. 

“You feel so good, Steve.”

“Oh come on, Y/N. Tell him how you really feel. It’s just us.”

The boy tilted forward, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and you moaned as your fingers tangled in Steve’s hair. 

“F-Fuck… your cock feels so fucking good. I-I can feel you in my stomach.”

His lips trailed up your chest to your neck and your eyes fluttered shut as you turned your head to the sound of his voice in your ear.

“I feel good, baby? Fuck, Y/N. I’ve—I’ve never had a pussy that felt this amazing before. You were made for us, honey.”

“Steve, I… I feel… Something’s happening.” Your arms circle tightly around him as he thrusts into harder and faster. “Steve!”

“That’s it, pretty girl. Oh my god. Cum all over my cock!” You screamed his name as an intense, pleasurable feeling you had never felt before washed over you. “Goddamn it.”, he grunted as he quickly pulled himself out of your quivering entrance and you watch with heavy eyes as he stroked his length over you, releasing his seed on your belly. 

Lost in a haze of bliss, you barely felt both boys switch places and Eddie flip you over positioning your ass in the air. When his tongue licked a long strip up your folds, however, you gasped as your body shuddered against the couch. 

“So sensitive. I like that. Jesus, sweetheart, you taste so sweet. Are you ready for me?” When you don’t answer, his chest presses against your back as his fingers move your hair to the side. “Are you ready for me, Y/N, or did you want to stop? We can stop if you want to, baby girl. We’ll still love you.”

Craning you neck slightly, you able to meet those beautiful chocolate eyes. You had never noticed how intense they were especially when they were full of care like they were now. You never noticed how kissable Eddie’s lips were or how seductive they looked when they pulled back into a smirk. It never occurred to you how much bigger his gorgeous hands actually were compared to yours as he balanced himself so he wouldn’t crush you as he whispered in your ear. 

“You both love me?”

Your question threw them both off guard. 

“Of course, we do. There’s no one else in the world like you.”

“You helped make us who we are, Y/N.”

Steve’s words hit you like a train. You just found a trashcan full of liquor he had been hiding from you. They were both utilizing drugs and alcohol to a degree that was beginning to become concerning. Maybe…maybe they’d be worse if it wasn’t for you. Maybe you could help them get better and heal so they wouldn’t need to turn to that stuff.

“I love you to. I’m ready, Eddie.”

You both groaned as he ran his mushroom tip between your puffy lips, collecting your slick before he gradually began guiding himself inside of you. Your back arches up, pushing against his chest as he stretches you open. It didn’t hurt as bad as with Steve but Eddie was thick and it still felt like you were being ripped in half. 

“G-God, Y/N. Steve was right…how can you still be this tight?”

His arms wrapped around your body as he began pounding into you. In this position, you were feeling all new pleasurable sensations that had your toes curling as he grunted into your ear. 

“Do—mmm—do I feel good to, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes.”

“Keep talking to me, Y/N. The way you did with him. Really let go, babe.”

“Your cock…feels so good…Eddie. You’re so…deep.”

Lifting himself onto his knees, he yanked you up with him, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the house. 

“K-Keep going.”

“I can’t. Fuck. I’m…”

“Yes, you can. I can feel your pussy squeezing me. Beg me, baby. Beg me to make you cum like he did.” When you didn’t answer him again, he placed his fingers on your clit, moving them so fast as he matched his own rhythm.

“Eddie! Oh my…Please! Make me cum. I want to cum again! Please…”

The metalhead pushed your face down into the sofa as he did what you asked, slamming is cock into you till the coil snapped and you shouted his name as you came. He soon followed, moaning obscenities as he pulled out and came on the meat of your ass. 

Unsure of what happens next, you remained frozen in that position as you listened to Eddie’s heavy pants. You were a complete mess, naked, hair frayed, and everyone including your own arousals dripping from your body. 

 “Whoa! Hey, it’s ok. I’m just picking you up to take you upstairs so we can get you clean.”, Steve explained when he felt you flinch. 

You sighed exhaustedly as he lifted you up and you clung your arms around his neck. Eddie ran ahead and as soon as you both entered the bathroom your bath was ready. Sitting there quietly, you starred off into the tile in front of you as they ran a washcloth along your skin. 

“Y/N?” The metalhead reached for your chin and gently turned you to face them both. “Are you alright? We didn’t hurt you or anything, right?”

When you shook your head, they exchanged a glance.

“What are you thinking about, honey?”

“Why? Why now? You two have had so many other girls in your life—”

“None like you.”, Steve interrupted. “I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I love you. My dad doesn’t give a fuck about me, my mother is never here, the girls at school just want me because I’m ‘popular’.”, he rolls his eyes. “You’ve never wanted or expected anything out of me. You treat me like I’m not fucking worthless.”

“Because you’re not, Steve.”

“When my mom died, I thought I’d never be happy again. Then I met you guys. Baby, I love you to. Even with Wayne sometimes I feel like I’m burdening him.”

“You’re not, Eddie. He loves you.”

“I know but I get what Steve is saying. We hear all this bullshit enough and it just sinks in you know? But with you…”

“We’ll still be your best friends, Y/N, even if you don’t want us like that.”

“I didn’t say that.”, you smirk as both their gazes shift towards you. “I would like to be wined and dined though.”

“You wanna go out on a date?”

“Yeah. Maybe we can check out that new Star Wars movie and then—”

“We can take you to dinner.”, Eddie beams. “Treat you like a princess.”

############

1983

“Wow, Steven, you suck at this.”, Eddie teases as you giggle from the side while you both watch Steve try to shoot one of the balls on the pool table into the corner pocket. 

“Well shit, Edward. Do you wanna wrap your arms around me like you do with Y/N and teach me to be better.”, the pretty boy slurred as his cue missed the ball entirely. “Fuck.”

The metalhead extended out his arms toward him as he began to sing. 

“Love lift us up where we belong.”

“Don’t you touch me.”, he laughs as they both flash each other a toothy grin. 

���Come on, princess. Show him what I taught you.”

Playfully swaying your hips as you saunter over, your eyes flick to them as you line up your shot. Steve tosses back the liquid in his flask and Eddie lights his fourth cigarette in a row. He’s getting antsy which means soon, he’ll excuse himself to the bathroom where he’ll snort his powder and come back with half lidded, glassy eyes. 

You savored small moments like this where you could. Where you three were having fun and they weren’t totally clouded over by their vices. Tonight was a regular date night and you were so happy that they didn’t seem to be in a bad mood. You always knew how ever it wouldn’t take much for that spark to ignite though. 

Beaming at them, they clap for you obnoxiously loud as you make your shot. 

“That’s our girl!”

“Shut the fuck up, freaks!”, Jason Carver hollers from the corner of the bar.

“Go to hell, Jason!”, you shout. 

The jocks cackle at your comment as Andrew’s eyes rake across your body. 

“Little girl has a mouth on her. Maybe we can show her how to use it.”

Eddie stomped towards them before you could stop him. 

“Say that a little louder, asshole. I don’t think I heard you correctly. That ‘little girl’ is my best friend and you willshow her fucking respect!”

“Go to hell, Munson.”

“HEY! Knock it off or I’ll kick you all out!”, the owner shouted as he glared where you guys were standing. 

“Come on, Ed. Let’s get out of here.”, you try and sooth him in a calm voice. “Please.”

Angrily turning away, he barrels out the door as you run after him. 

“Eddie, it’s ok.”

He ignores you as he opens his van door, pops open the glove box, and pulls out the little glass vile of his drug. You watch with helpless eyes as he pours some on the edge of his hand near his thumb and snorts the contents.

“That’s not going to help anyone.”, you growl.

“Yeah, well, no one fucking asked you. Let me ask you something. Why did you want me to stop? Huh? Do you want to fuck Jason and his stupid friends?”

“Have you lost your fucking mind? Of course, I don’t.”

“Pfft, please. Little whore like you can’t help herself.”

“Fuck you, Eddie.” 

As you turn and try to walk away, he grabs your arm and tries to keep you from leaving. 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“I’d rather walk than deal with this bullshit.”

“Guys…”, Steve slurs as he appears beside you. “Can we do this later? I’m fucking exhausted.”

***

Driving his van for them, you all went back to Steve’s house and let them talk you into staying over. Around two in the morning, yelling startled you awake causing you to panic when you realized Steve wasn’t beside you. 

“Eddie.”, you murmured forcefully as you shook him. “Eddie!”

“Jesus H Christ, WHAT?!”

“Something is happening downstairs. I think Steve needs our help.”

“He’ll be fine. Just shut the fuck up and go back to bed.”, he grumbled as he rolled over. 

Ignoring him completely, you quietly tiptoed out of the bedroom and leaned against the railing as you listened to Mr. Harrington screaming at his son. 

“This is a $500 dollar bottle of bourbon, Steven! I save it for important clients not my idiot kid and his friends.”

“For the thousandth time, I didn’t drink it!”

“Oh, so all of my alcohol just disappears then. Even though you, the freak, and that whore are here a majority of the time alone.”

“Don’t call her that.”, Steve grunted through gritted teeth.

His dad stepped forward and smacked him hard across the face. 

“Don’t talk to me in that tone of voice.”

Running down the stairs, you put yourself between them. 

“Leave him alone! He’s not drinking what’s yours.”

“Everything in this house fucking is mine, little girl. I paid for it with my hard-earned money. What the fuck has he done? Nothing and that’s all he will ever be. The sooner you figure that out the better.” Mr. Harrington raises his finger and points to his son. “You owe me $500 dollars or I swear to God, Steven.”

With that his dad furiously left the house, slamming the front door for emphasis. Quickly facing him, you cup his cheeks in your hands, and check him over.

“Are you alright, baby?”

“Why the fuck did you do that, Y/N?”, he asks in a sharp tone. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Marching towards the kitchen, he opens cabinets till he finally finds a bottle of whiskey that actually still has some liquid within it. You glared at him as he knocked it back, panting when he finally removed his lips from the glass. 

“You both promised me you would slow down on stuff like this.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t answer to you, honey. If you don’t like it, you can fucking leave.”

“Maybe, Andrew is still at The Hideout. He can give you a bed for the night.”, Eddie sneered as he rounded the corner and leaned in the doorway.

“Fuck you both. I’m fucking done.”, you spat. “You want me to leave? You got it.”

You headed towards his room, throwing off his clothes so you can put on your own and head home. You knew better. You knew you should have just left but part of you was hoping they’d beg you to stay, groveling at your feet as they told you they loved you. You wanted them to fight for you…show you that they needed you as much as you felt like you needed them. 

And they would…in their own inebriated way…

“Why the fuck are you still here?! I thought you were leaving?!”, Eddie shouted when he found you. Grabbing your pants from the floor, he threw them down to the first floor with your shoes and socks. “Get a move on, baby!”

Ignoring him, you banged your feet loudly down the stairs but as you bent down to grab your jeans, Steve came up behind you and captured your wrist turning you to face him. 

“You made things worse by butting in.”

“No, Steve, you make things worse by continuing to drink. Why?! Why do you two do this?”

The man rolls his eyes as he takes a swig from the bottle in his hand. 

“Please. Like you fucking care. You’re going to break our hearts just like they did. May as well just leave now, honey, and leave us in peace to destroy ourselves. It’s what Eddie and I are good at, right bud?”

Eddie’s only response was a deep inhale that you knew was his him snorting his blow. 

Shaking your head, you turn to leave but he doesn’t release you from his hold. 

“I thought you said I could leave, Steve. That’s what you want right? To fulfill your own prophesy of me abandoning you.” You try to yank your arm back but he just tugs you close to his chest, glaring down at you with angry eyes. “It’s not like I’ve been by your sides and both your best friend since we were little kids.”

Sarcastically, you laugh knowing what you say next will rile him up but you don’t care. In this moment, you were in so much pain after the way they spoke to you. You were fully prepared to give them a taste of their own medicine. 

“Your dad was right. You are nothing.”

In one swift motion, he released your wrist and took hold of your hair, leading you to the couch where he bent you over the arm.

“I’m nothing, huh? HUH?!”, Steve shouted near your ear as he leaned over your back. “Say it again, little girl! Come on. Let me hear it!”

“You’re nothing, Steve Harrington! I thought you wanted me to fucking leave! I’m going to abandon you anyway, RIGHT?!”

His palm came down hard on your behind, making you yelp before he moved the cotton blocking your core and abruptly pushed two of his long, thick fingers into your sex.

“You’re not going fucking anywhere tonight, babe. Not until we’re done with you.” You groan as he curls his fingers inside you and spanks you again. “You always talk back but you’re still so fucking wet for us, aren’t you? AREN’T YOU?!”, he yells as he hits you again.

“YES!”

“Fuck, just listen to that pussy, Munson.” The sound of your slick fills the room as he thrusts his fingers at a faster pace. “Fucking whore is always ready.”

“Probably why she can’t help but eye fuck this entire town.”, Eddie condescends as he comes around to sit on the couch in front of you. 

“Please…”, you moan as the coil tightens in your stomach. 

“Please.”, he mocks making you growl before his fingers roughly pinch your cheeks. “Control the fucking attitude, Y/N. Since we’re nothing and we do nothing for you, might as well use you one last time and I’ll be damned if you’re going to look at me like that.”

Steve spanks you again causing you to whimper as your pussy clenches around his fingers and you cum hard around them. After literally ripping off your panties and Eddie tugging off your shirt, the other boy loops his arm around your waist, carrying you around the front of the sofa, and tossing you on it. You wince as you fall a little harder than you should of making both boys freeze. They don’t genuinely want to hurt you; they never have. You know what they’re doing right now is an outlet especially for Steve after what happened with his dad. They needed to feel in control and so did you. You desperately needed to feel like you could reign them in and keep their vices in check so it didn’t get worse. 

If they needed to use you so they didn’t use themselves, so be it.

Your eyes flick between theirs before a slow, cool laugh leaves your lips. 

“Oh, come on, boys. Don’t pretend like you fucking care now. I’m a whore right, Ed? Steve? Come on, baby.” You coo in a sarcastic tone as you push up on your knees and wrap your arms around the man’s neck. “Prove to me you’re not nothing. Show me what a real Harrington man is.”

With newfound motivation, he manhandled you till you were on your hands and knees facing Eddie’s lap. You mewled, biting your lip at the feeling of Steve’s spit hitting your cunt before he pushed down his shorts enough to free his cock and roughly thrust it into your entrance.

Ringed fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you back till you were looking at the metalhead’s angry face. 

“You’re going to suck my cock, little girl, and you’re going to take all of it. No whining or complaining. Sluts do what they’re told.”

You nodded with heavy eyes as the man behind you abused that sensitive spot inside you over and over till your toes were curling. Shimming out of his boxers without letting you go; his dick sprang free and you wasted no time taking him into your mouth. 

Eddie groaned as you did what you were told, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you drooled around him. Every time you moaned at Steve’s thrusts, his fingers gripped you tighter as his eyes fluttered shut. 

“Fuck, baby, that’s it. At least that bratty mouth is good for something. Shit.”

Looping his arm around you, Steve’s hand reached between your legs and began rubbing fast circles into your clit that had you screaming around Eddie as you pushed back against his hand.

“Fuck, Steve!”

“Yeah. That’s the fucking spot. I know. No one knows you better than us, little girl. Cum. Cum hard on my cock, Y/N!”, he demands as he spanks you with his other palm. 

As the ball drops, you moan his name as your pussy quivers around him. 

“Fuck. That’s it. Good girl. Good fucking girl.”, Steve grunts as he pounds into you chasing his high. 

Clinging to your hair, Eddie holds you still as he thrusts up into your mouth and fucks your face as you gag. 

“There you go, you little whore. Choke on my dick.”

Steve’s rhythm falters and he grunts as he releases his spend roughly into your cunt. As he fills you up, the metalhead pushes you lower onto his lap and growls loudly as your throat constricts around him. They both pull out of you at the same time and Eddie forcefully tugs you onto his lap facing him. 

Your jaw falls open as he grips your waist and brings your down onto his cock, your hands clinging to his shoulders as he guides your movements. 

“Harder, Y/N! Fucking make me believe that you fucking care!”

As you wrap your arms around him for leverage, you bounce faster and harder on his lap, throwing your head back as you moan loudly. 

“E-Eddie, please!”

“Fuck.”, he grunts, lifting you into the air without pulling out, sitting you on the sofa while his palm grips the back as he takes over thrusting into you. “God, you feel so fucking good. You’re ours, little girl. This pussy belongs to us.”

When all you do is mewl and nod, his fingers take hold of your jaw, and force you to meet his intense gaze.

“Say it, Y/N. So we know you fucking understand.”

“I-I…my pussy be-belongs to you. Fuck.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You two.”

“WHO?!”, he snarls as he rolls his hips hard.

“EDDIE AND STEVE! Fuck, I’m gonna—”

The metalhead’s ringed fingers grab your throat and you whimper as you cum again. Eddie’s grip tightens and you feel your air slightly cut off. Right as your panicked eyes find Steve’s, the other boy paints your walls as he fucks it deep into your core. 

Steve reaches over and tugs at his friend’s wrist, signaling for him to release you which he does. His chocolate eyes scan you over with worry, when he hears you cough as you catch your breath. 

“I…I…shit. Y/N, are you…okay?”

When you don’t answer, they swiftly kick into action as Steve lifts you into his arms and carries you to his bathroom where he gets the tub ready. Eddie appears next to you with a bottle of water but as he offers it to you, you turn away. 

“Sweetheart, you have to drink something.”

“Like either of you care.”

“Honey, of course we care.”

“DON’T! Don’t you honey and sweetheart me! I’m a whore who wants to fuck the entire town, right?! I’m butting into your business and making things worse, right?! I don’t love you and you don’t care if I leave, RIGHT?!” Pushing Steve away, you wince as you lower yourself in the warm water and bring your knees to your chin. “What do I have to do to prove to you that I only want you two? That I’m not going anywhere? Why does it have to be this way?”

They hang their heads as they silently clean you and you allow it. After drying you off and finding you a new pair of clothes to wear, you continue to ignore them as you climb into Steve’s bed and close your eyes. Both boys do the same, placing themselves on either side of you as Eddie presses himself against your back looping his arm around you and pulling you to him while Steve tenderly caressed your face. 

“We’re sorry, baby.”, he whispers. “You deserve so much more than this. We’re fucking assholes.”

Steve watched your bottom lip quiver as Eddie held you tighter to his chest and he pressed his face into your shoulder as he began to quietly cry. 

“I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to grab you so hard. I love you. You’re not a whore. You’re our perfect angel. We can be better, Y/N.”

###########

“Hey, Y/N. Are you alright? You look tired.”

“Oh, thanks Glen. You know I’m trying this new routine—”

“Ok, ok, I get it. That was a little rude.”, he laughs. “You know, you always look beautiful.”

You softly smile as you turn towards your locker. These were the moments you wish you could tell people that you, Eddie, and Steve were more than best friends. Glen was a nice guy but you were in love with someone else. You knew it bothered them (especially Eddie) when men hit on you and it equally upset you when girls would do the same with them. 

They knew better though just like you. You knew when Steve stumbled into a room with a girl on his heels they were probably just talking. Whenever he would call you over at 2am sobbing about something you couldn’t understand under his slurred words, you were positive that the perfume you were smelling was most likely yours from days ago when you spent the night. 

They made sure you never had to worry about things like that…

As you opened your locker a note tumbled into your hand.

“Hey pretty girl, 

We just wanted to say we love you so much and miss you. 

Can’t wait to see you later tonight. 

You deserve the world, angel.

-Steve X Eddie”

“Are you, um, going to the party tonight?”

“Yeah.”, you answer him as you hold the note to your chest. “Steve is probably going to pick me and Eddie up.”

“Oh. Ok…I thought, maybe, you’d want to ride with me.”

“Glen…I…thank you but I’m just not…”

“Hey. No worries.”, he grins. “I’ll still be your friend and think you’re cool.”

***

“Geez, this fucking house is insane. How many people live here?”, Eddie asks as he takes a sip of the “punch” in his cup. 

“I think 3 but…”, you laugh as you wonder around with them. 

“Pfft. Jamie’s parents and herself makes three people who are never home.” Steve picks up a figurine and shows it to you with confusion before putting it back. “I will never understand why rich people buy these massive houses but are never in them. Our house isn’t that big but it’s just me or the three of us 99% of the time.”

“Ok, got it. When we move in together no big house.”, you giggle causing him to stick out his tongue at you. 

“That’s too bad. When I became a rockstar I was going to buy us a HUGE mansion.”, the metalhead muses as he glances up another spiral staircase that was blocked off. After looking around, he tugs down the ribbon, and grabs your hand to guide you up to the next floor. 

“Hm, baby. This reminds me of The Shining.”, you whine.

Eddie chuckles as he turns around and wiggles his index finger in front of your face. 

“Redrum!”

“Stop!”

Continuing to laugh, he pulls you to his side as you wrap your arms around his waist. You loved these moments; the moments where they seemed like their old selves before things had gotten worse. It gave you hope that you could save them; that you could bring the Eddie and Steve you first met on those swings back to you. 

“Hey guys. Come look at this here.”, Steve calls as he opens a random door. “This must be her parent’s room.”

As he stared at the massive sized bed with a canopy, you ventured into the bathroom while Eddie looked around the closet. 

“Jesus Christ, this is bigger than our fucking trailer.”, he scoffs as he flashes Steve who followed him in some of the clothes. “If you need a bench in your closet, maybe the closet it too big, yeah?”

The other man took a swig from his flask as his eyes scanned everything around him. 

“I don’t think I’ll every be rich enough to give her this.”, he mumbles causing the metalhead to abruptly turn his way. 

“Don’t say that, Harrington. Just because your dad is a douchebag doesn’t mean you won’t own a company one day. It doesn’t have to be his.”

“Pfft, said the rockstar.”

“Ha! Yeah. That’s if I can get my fingers to do what I want them to do.”, Eddie sighs as he begins digging his is pockets, finding his little vile. “Or my brain for that matter.”

“Maybe…maybe we really should slow down, ya know?”, Steve whispers. 

“It’s not that serious, Steven.”

“You almost choked her out.”

“And you fuck other cheerleaders. Do you really want to play that game right now?”, Eddie hisses.

“Shhh! I don’t…I don’t mean to. We go somewhere and then I wake up the next morning…”

“Yeah, tell her that.”

“I love her.”, Steve growls. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Well, I love her to.”, he sighs before patting his friend’s shoulder. “Everything’s fine, man. Trust me.”

The sound of you jumping onto the bed brings them back into reality as they exit the closet and find you sprawled out with a wide smile on your face. Crawling in beside you, the three of you lay there in comfortable silence as you listen to them breathe.

“I love you both…for who you are…I hope you know that.” You feel their eyes shift towards you as you continue. “No matter what. It’s always been just us and I’m always going to be here for you. I don’t care if we have a house like this or… a tiny trailer.”

“We’re not going to let you live your life in a tiny trailer, sweetheart. I don’t care what I have to do but that’s never going to be your reality.”

“Whatever WE have to do.”, Steve clarified. “We’re always going to be there for you, honey. You put up with a lot when it comes to us. Soon it will all be worth it.”

“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we ditch this party, go back to my place, and watch some spooky movies that will make Harrington pee his pants?”

Nodding, you giggle as Steve rolls his eyes. After running down the stairs, a face you recognized abruptly stopped you to say hello. 

“Hi Glen. I’m actually about to leave!”

“Really? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” His nervous eyes scan Steve’s stumbling frame as Eddie bounces on his heels waiting for you. “You’re leaving with them?”

“Yeah of course. We’re going to go hang out at Eddie’s trailer.”

“You’re driving right? Or, maybe, even I can.”

“Oh, um…” Your own gaze shifts towards them, taking note at the longer you take the more annoyed their eyes seem to become. “His place isn’t that fair. It’s not a big deal. I appreciate the thought though.”, you smile as you give him a quick hug.

Before you can turn away, Glen holds you in his grasp.

“Don’t go with them, Y/N. Please.”

Holding your smile, you pull away and nod your head, slightly assuring him that everything would be alright. 

“What did he want?”

“Just to say hello. We have a couple of classes together and we help each other sometimes.” As you three search for Steve’s BMW, you anxiously watch him fumble with his keys. “Stevie, baby, maybe you should let me drive.”

“Pfft, I can drive, honey. I’m barely even drunk.”

Eddie’s arms wrap around you from behind as he tenderly kisses the nook between your neck and shoulder. “Come on, princess. You can sit in the back with me.”

***

Steve frustratingly tries to yank at the car door but it won’t budge. 

“Steve…”, Eddie calls to his friend as the sirens begin to wail in the distance.

“I can’t…the door…” Desperately, he falls to his knees and tries to reach for your hand through the shattered window as you dangled upside down from where you were still buckled in. “I can’t reach her…Y/N…w-wake up.”

“S-S-Steve.” The sound of sirens got louder as the metalhead panicked going into sensory overload. The sirens, Steve grunting as he tried different ways to get to you, the smell of metal and blood. “STEVEN! We need to go. NOW!”

“Eddie, we can’t just leave her here!”

The long-haired boy tugged at his friend’s sweater, dragging him to his feet. 

“Yeah? And you’ll never see her again if you get arrested for drunk driving and me for possession. She’ll be fine. They’re almost here. They can get her out!”

Steve had his own internal battle pausing only for a second when he heard the sound of you groan. 

“I-I-I…FUCK!”

Both boys run and disappear just as Hopper’s police car skids onto the scene.

***

“Hey, Y/N. This feels like a stupid question but how are you feeling?”, the police chief asks as he takes a seat beside your hospital bed. It had been almost two weeks since the accident and people could barely get anything out of you. 

Your parents had been by your side the entire time, holding your hand, and caressing your hair as you cried through every painful process the doctors put you through. Your mom and Hopper exchange a worried glance as you ignore the question, continuing to stare at the phone by your bed. 

“I’m not going to bug you too much but I was hoping to get some more details about what happened. We know you weren’t driving because we found you buckled in the backseat.”

Again, no response.

“We, uh, got a tip that you and some friends left a party at the same time. Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington? The car in the accident is also Mr. Harrington’s.” Your eyes start to tear up and you quickly suffocate the notion by closing your eyes. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, may I have a moment alone with Y/N?”

After your parent’s leave, Hopper comes to sit on the opposite end of the room directly in front of you, his gaze soft as he scans you over. 

“Y/N, you’re not in trouble. I know you didn’t cause this. I also know that you’re very loyal to your friends but, honey, you’re not helping either of them if they don’t face the consequences for what they do.” Your eyes open finally meeting his and he doesn’t faulter as he continues. “No one is in trouble here. I just want to help them and you. I also want to make sure no one else gets hurt.”

Shifting you gaze towards the phone again, a montage of everything they had been through ran through your mind. Eddie had lost his mom and his dad was abusive before going in. After moving in with Wayne, things got better at home but not at school or in Hawkins. People bullied him relentlessly making him feel like he was a freak who would never be anything but. 

Steve had basically raised himself being alone most of his childhood. His asshole father and absent mother were always away on business or even pleasure leaving him behind. When they were home, his dad said terrible things to him and broke him down constantly telling him he was worthless. While the boy was popular school, adults constantly seemed to underestimate him adding to his insecurity. 

They didn’t need prison, they needed you. It was just you and them against the world. Yeah, they hadn’t called yet but they would. They would give you a rational reason for leaving you behind and comfort you, telling you everything would be ok. Then things could go back to how they used to be or even better. Maybe this accident would wake them up to the damage their vices can do…

“I don’t remember who was driving. I just remember something darting into the road and then waking up here.”, you whisper. 

The police chief sighs as he nods. He can’t force you to say what you need to say. If that’s the story you want to stick with, he’ll write his report and give it to the insurance companies. 

“I see. Ok, Y/N. Thank you for your candor and I hope…I hope you feel better. I’m always here if you need to talk.”

Softly smiling, you turn your attention back to the phone as you continue to wait. 

They’ll call or come by. They love me. We need each other… I know it.

#############

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love part 7 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

(also on AO3 here)

Chapter Seven

Eddie POV

Steve insists on being pathfinder lead for the next hour. 

Eddie’s gotta admit—following Steve, as he thrashes his way through the undergrowth, is the best entertainment that banishment has provided yet. Steve’s tight-fitting pants don't do any harm. Goddammit, the perspiration patches on Steve’s shirt make Eddie sweat even harder than Steve is.

“You need the fedora hat,” calls Robin, “and you’ve totally nailed the junior Indiana Jones look.”

Steve smirks over his shoulder. “I was channelling that guy out of Romancing the Stone.” 

“Michael Douglas? No way as hot.” Eddie flashes his best flirtatious grin with ever greater confidence. This afternoon, Steve has begun returning them. “Stick to Indy, man.”

By the time they reach the logging camp, however, they’re all beyond exhausted.

Eddie’s feet are raw with blisters, and Robin’s been complaining of the same for the past hour. She limps through the door of the first cabin they come to, which fortunately turns out to be a bunkhouse. She throws down her pack then throws herself onto the bottom of one of two sets of bunks. Steve collapses onto the other lower bunk and appears to fall instantly asleep.

Eddie considers crawling up onto one of the top bunks and seeing if sleep takes pity on him.

He doubts it would. The choppers were a stark reminder of the nightmare reality snapping at his heels, and he’s wired as hell. He begins to unpack their supplies. Robin, having taken a moment, sits back up.

“We should check this place out,” she whispers. “There must be a clean water supply somewhere, maybe a generator. Definitely canned food and that kinda stuff, for when the loggers come back in the autumn.” 

“I guess it’ll make a change from cardboard-flavoured cereal.”

“God, I know, right! I’d literally murder for some Count Chocular right now.”

They split up to search the various cabins. Eddie hits the jackpot first, in the guise of a crate of bottled beer. 

“Seriously?” says Robin, when she meets him outside the bunkhouse. Eddie sits on the beer crate he’s dragged out, taking a well-earned rest. “You’re gonna get buzzed?”

“You got it in one, sister.”

He doesn’t feel the need to justify this—I saw Chrissy butchered in front of my eyes. I’ve spent a week on the run from the cops. I BASICALLY DIED IN A WHIRLWIND OF EVIL KILLER DEMOBATS. And now I’m on the run again, with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, and I’ve fallen stupid hard for him. Oh, and there’s a small but real possibility he’s been flayed. Or something else freaky along those lines.

Robin hasn’t quit scowling at him. His smile is the first overtly false one he’s bothered with for a while:

“Forgive me, Robin. I’ve reached the point where, to quote my sweet old Granny—there ain’t nothin’ fuckin’ like it for me nerves. ’Course, she favoured hard liquor.” He offers one of two bottles he’s gotten out to Robin. “Want one?”

“I’ll stick to the cardboard cereal.” Her scowl lessens, though she remains deadly serious. “Look, promise me you won’t give too much to Steve.”

“Why?”

“What kinda pea-brain question is that? Despite the super-commando act, he’s still struggling, it’s totally obvious. Getting trashed is not gonna help.”

“Yeah, but… he’s improving, right?” Her slight wince betrays that, once again, they’re thinking the same thing. Perhaps Steve’s getting stronger, because he’s getting closer again to Lover’s Lake, Hawkins, Vecna, the Hive-Mind, and yet… “You know our little worst-case scenario, Rob? I’m still not buying it.”

The wind rustles the nearby trees. In sync, Robin’s hunched shoulders soften a little. “Me neither. Hand on heart, if Steve had a link to that evil shit, any at all, I’d sense it by now. Although… Was it just me who thought it was weird when the choppers came over, and then it suddenly clouded up?”

“Yeeeeaah, that really was just you. I was too busy eating dirt and shitting myself.” Now he thinks about it, mind, it was darn convenient.

She shrugs. “I guess I’m super-paranoid that way. I literally spent my Middle School years spotting aliens everywhere.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Then I realised they weren’t aliens. It was the Fae all along.”

“You sure it wasn’t dragons?”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.” Her laugh sounds as manic as his latest crazy smile. On the other hand:

“Maybe Steve really is getting better naturally,” he ventures, “and the set-backs are because he’s been overdoing it. I mean, yeah, we keep an eye out for anything cuckoo, watch for connections, make sure he takes rests, but… Time heals, huh?”

“Not always.” She purses her lips, veering straight back into scary mode. “Steve doesn’t like people to know, but since his second major concussion, he’s not supposed to drink. Of course, he does sometimes, but—”

“Message received. I’ll just have the one—for medicinal purposes, ’kay?” 

“Please yourself. Then wake Steve long enough to put our own bedding on those disgusting bunks. I don’t wanna be bitten to death by bed bugs.”

Robin stomps off toward the camp generator. Eddie is executing the important business of prying the top off his beer, when Steve appears, leaning in the cabin doorway. “Why did you both let me… Hey, is that beer?”

The top pops off with a treacherous fizz. “Uh, no?”

“You’re a useless liar.” Steve closes in. His messy, sleep-mussed hair renders him totally edible. 

“You got me.” Eddie darts his tongue nervously across his lips. “This indeed is the amber nectar of the Gods. You want some?” 

There’s a skewed logic behind Eddie’s offer. If he told Steve he couldn’t drink, like he was his mom or something, Steve would probably get mad. He opts to play a good cop, bad cop routine with Robin, who… 

Eddie glances toward the generator.

She’s not there. If bad cop isn’t gonna show, then he needs a Plan B.

“I guess I’ll have one.” Steve stretches to take the bottle. 

“Just gonna test it. Been here a while.” 

Eddie takes a glug, splutters it out across dusty ground. “Oh man, it’s worse than cat-piss.” He’s only slightly exaggerating. “There’s a reason those lumberjacks left this garbage behind.”

Steve yawns into the back of his hand. “Gonna be honest. I’m not supposed to drink anyhow. Long story.” Ooookay. That went easier than predicted. “Got any water left?”

“Yeah. By my pack.” Eddie hurries into the bunkhouse, and Steve follows. It’s the last bottle, so he hopes Robin’s busy locating fresh supplies. Though that proves the least of his worries.

Half a minute later, he’s sitting on the edge of a bunk, thigh-to-thigh with Steve. They pass the bottle of water and a bottle of beer between them.

And being this close to Steve, now Steve seems so much better? Exchanging chitchat about how long they can hideout here, and if any of them have the skills to hunt a deer or something?

It sends tingles up and down Eddie’s spine.

The way Steve looks at him underlines exactly why Steve was angry last night, when Eddie “assumed” he was straight. Eddie suddenly can’t look Steve in the eye. Trouble is, he then can’t stop staring at Steve’s mouth—those shapely, slightly chapped lips, moist and glistening with water and bad beer.

Then Steve blindsides him with: “Do you honestly think you died, Eddie? Before I did the CPR?”

“I dunno, Harrington.” Eddie squirms on his butt, all kinds of defences flying up. “It was like a dream. Apart from that, it wasn't a dream. It was a place, and Dustin was there, and Robin was there, and you were there, too.”

“Wow. Seriously?”

Eddie cackles out a mocking laugh. “I’m misquoting ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ dude.”

“Oh.” Eddie glances sidelong. Steve appears… oddly crestfallen. “It’s just… You know, I said when I get hurt, I feel like I come back different each time. I mean, I don't know if it's true or not, but... I never knew you before... and I know you now and... and…” Steve fluffs his hair. “Jesus, I’m blabbering.”

“Nah,” says Eddie. “You sound like you’re getting somewhere.” 

Compared to the meltdown my brain is having.

“Okay, well, here it is. I like you, Eddie. I really like you.” 

Eddie half wants to flee for the hills. He fixes on a beetle scuttling across the dirty floorboards. “Dude, you sure you’re not in love with Wheeler?”

“I… I… No!”  Steve doesn’t sound angry, only bewildered. “Yeah, I believed that once, and maybe I was. I guess she fitted in so many dreams I’ve had of my future, and I owe her a lot. But now I’m with you, and…” Their eyes finally meet. Steve’s earnest warmth sends a brutal shockwave through Eddie. “I know this seems fickle, but…” His gentle laugh is too much. “Who knows? Perhaps it’s because Nance has never been dead. Or, near dead. You know, we’ve gotten that in common, right?”

“Riiiiight,” Eddie says, stupidly, then, “Screw it, I like you too, Stevie. I really like you.” 

They fling their arms around each other, and tumble into the kiss.

For Eddie, the sensations are like no make-out session before, such is the hunger that zings between them. Eddie’s so blown away, that the brush of Steve’s lips seems to kindle an actual crackling, electric friction..  Damn, the boy can kiss! 

Eddie’s gotten a semi already, fingers threading up through Steve’s hair, toying at the nape of his neck. Steve does amazing twisty things with his tongue. Gnng! You wanna kill me again, Baby? Even the scrape of Steve’s shallow stubble totally unhinges him.

They work the kiss with their whole bodies, striving to get beyond close, as if they could slide beneath each other’s skin. Eddie can’t help wondering—can they get each other off, before Robin gets back?

Then something changes.

He senses Steve gasp, then moan into Eddie's mouth with something other than dumb teen passion. His arms, clinging around Eddie, falter and slip away.

“Stevie?”

Too late. Steve crumples against Eddie, totally senseless. 

“Steve?” squeaks Eddie, struggling to stop Steve slipping to the floorboards. “Robin! ROBIN!”

Part 8

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

[antigone-ks]

Lantern of Evil, Chapter Four

MARVEL MASTERLIST

CHAPTER THREE

Chapter Four - Under an August Moon

Under stars chilled by the winter/ Under an August moon burning above/ You'd be so nice, you'd be paradise/ To come home to and love

____________________

North by Northwest is definitely something you kept telling yourself you’d eventually get around to watching, so even if Grant stands you up you’ll get to watch classic cinema and you’ll be happy about it. Not that he even could stand you up, because that only happens on dates and this is not a date. You’re very firm with yourself about that. It’s just friends at the movies. Just two folks, bein’ pals.

You’re early enough to the cinema that you drive around for a little bit, just to make sure you won’t be hanging around outside with people looking at you for very long. It’d be awful to stand there with everyone passing by, going “wow, she looks stood up.” Which won’t happen, because this isn't a date.

On the third drive-by you see Grant standing by the door, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking like he’s . . . well, like he’s trying to case the joint and also hide at the same time.

“You’d make a terrible spy,” you say, laughing as you walk up behind him a few minutes later.

Grant shoves his hair out of his eyes and smiles at you. “You know, I’ve been told that before.” He looks down, smile faltering. “Not . . . not lately, though. Why’d you think so?”

“First, you didn’t clock me walking up behind you. And also, you’re not unobtrusive, you know.”

“You noticed me?” That seems to cheer him up.

“You did kind of draw my eye.” Shit, was that flirty? That was too flirty. But he’s smiling again, and your heart turns a handspring. You’d turn a handspring for real and fall on your ass on purpose to keep him smiling.

“Shall we?” he holds the door like a gentleman, and for just a second you could swear you feel his hand against the small of your back as you brush past him. It’s gone so fast, it almost certainly couldn’t have been real, but the tingling down your spine says it was.

Oh, this is gonna be bad.

So it turns out there are some sexy bits in North by Northwest, maybe a little cheesy by modern standards, but still enough to make you think some thoughts about some stuff. It didn’t help that Grant had very chivalrously offered you his jacket the second the air-conditioning blasted on, which was just really . . . Sitting there wrapped in his jacket which smelled really good, like soap and a little hint of some spicy cologne, his arm pressed against yours, hands occasionally brushing over the popcorn that he insisted on buying and then sharing . . . it felt just a little sweet, like a junior-high crush.

Against your better judgment, you try to think of ways to keep the evening going.

“Do you want to get a drink? There’s a bar just down the block, kind of a hipstery place. I’ve never been but it’s always busy.”  That’s the kind of place that artsy guys would like, right?

Grant smiles for a split-second, then, just like before, it fades. “No, I’d . . . I’d better not.” He shuffles his feet and looks as disappointed as you feel. “I just . . . can’t do crowds. Sorry.”

And now you’re out of options. You can’t invite him back to your place, because A) too forward and B) it’ll sound try-hard. And you can’t go back to his, even if he invites you, because: also A. Not that he seems inclined to ask; he’s shifting his feet awkwardly and won’t quite meet your eyes. Okay . . . is this something you did, or is it a Grant thing? You can’t remember doing anything to put him off.

Or maybe he doesn’t want to be seen with you. It’s an awful thought, uncharitable to both of you. Still, he wouldn’t be the first man to enjoy a woman’s company as long as no one he knows is around to see it. And in any case, you’d shot your shot. Shooted your. Shooteth. You’d damn well tried.

“Ok! Well, this was fun. I’ll see you.”

“No, wait –“ he grabs your hand and you try to tamp down on any cliché nonsense, because you have far too much good sense to ‘feel the electricity’ or whatever.

No, I don’t. I definitely don’t.

“Maybe someplace a little farther from the action? There’s one of those ice cream places, you know, the new-fangled ones where you can add in forty kinds of candy?”

That’s so much better than a dark, crowded bar where you can’t carry on a conversation, or even see who you’re talking to.

“I can bring you back to pick up your car, after?” Grant suggests, sounding eager.

He guides you to the parking lot, to a car that’s clearly expensive, but too classy to shout it. It’s a . . . you don’t know, an Audi or something, like a Tony Stark-level car. It’s spotless, save the messenger bag that Grant whisks out of the passenger seat as he opens the door for you, and it smells like someone rubbed down the leather with a cloud.

“It’s a nice car,” you say, when he’s seated next to you, buckling himself in.

“Yeah, it’s a, a company car.”

You had no idea graphic designers got company cars, let alone the kind where the seats were made from certified happy cows. It’s deeply impolite to follow that line of thought, though.

“How’s work going, anyway? You haven’t said much about it lately.”

Grant shrugs and eases into traffic. “It’s work. There’ve been some . . . frustrations, recently. Some things we can’t quite get to the bottom of. And it’s pretty much all in my area, so. You know.”

“So you definitely need this ice cream,” you tease.

“Oh my God, I need this ice cream.” He sounds so fervent that you burst into laughter. He joins in, and the rest of the ride passes in companionable silence.

***

He’s going to be sick later, but it’s worth it. Dark chocolate mint, with chocolate chips and chocolate shavings and Oreo cookies and hot fudge added in – his younger self wouldn’t have believed there were so many things you could put in ice cream. He remembers standing in a grocery, not long after he’d thawed, staring at the wall of ice cream, trying to work up the self-righteousness to scoff at the wastefulness and excess. In the end, he’d bought six pints in flavors he’d never heard of and eaten them all that night. His stomach didn’t even notice.

And now he’s sitting in an ice cream parlor with a woman who noticed him, noticed him, looking like this, and he’s trying to keep up with the flow of conversation when really he just wants to kiss the hot fudge off the corner of your mouth and then finish his ice cream.

“It just hit really hard, you know – I grew up on Bowie; that was like, the soundtrack of my life,” you’re gesticulating wildly, and Steve’s trying to keep an eye on where your spoon is flying. “And even when he got older he wasn’t old. So it was like ‘oh my god, he was just there.’ You know? You probably have someone like that,” you say, the invitation clear. Steve’s mind races – someone who’s passed recently that’d be age-appropriate (or apparent-age appropriate – you gotta stop lying, Rogers).

“Patty Andrews,” he blurts out, and it’s not like that’s wrong, they’d listened to the Andrews Sisters til the victory discs were scratched, and he’d barely been out of the ice for a year, still adjusting, when she’d passed. They’d gone on a date once – him and Patty, Bucky and Maxene – for publicity. LaVerne was married; she was officially there to “chaperone” her sisters with Steve and Bucky. They were all real nice gals. Steve smiles wistfully, remembering; they’d swapped USO stories for hours.[1]

He comes back to the present to see you watching him, a fond smile on your face. It’s a little thrilling, to know it’s for him. And it’s a little embarrassing, to realize that he just cited someone your grandparents’ age as the soundtrack of his life. But on the other hand, it’s honest. But on the other other hand . . . Gonna need more hands if you want to keep juggling like this, he told himself sternly.

“You’re full of surprises,” you say, making a gesture like you’re about to reach for his hand, and he’s unreasonably disappointed when you don’t. And extremely guilty, because you don’t know how right you are.

Instead, you take another bite of your sundae and swing your feet. By silent agreement, you’d both eschewed the bar stools and taken one of the few tables, but even those are a few inches taller than normal. Steve is deeply grateful that the couple of inches he has on you lets him put his feet on the ground. Or close enough to fake it. Swinging feet is cute when a lady does it, but he’s not looking to emphasize his lack of stature on a date.

Of course it’s not a date, not really; he didn’t ask you right and he let you buy the movie tickets –although you’re very modern, after all, you might insist on splitting even if he’d asked you all formal. He wouldn’t mind you offering, he thinks, but Sarah Rogers raised her boy to treat a lady properly, and he’s planning to do exactly that. As soon as he has his goddamned body back.

You could ask her now, his brain suggests, hopefully. You could. She likes you. She noticed you. She’s wearing your jacket in public. Oh, God. He’s thinking like a teenager again, like he’s back in Brooklyn and has miraculously found a real knockout girl who ranks him higher than semi-goon, and not just because she’s trying to get closer to Bucky.

Steve feels a little pride in that, that Bucky’s not even here to help and smooth things over, and he’s still doing pretty good.

So he reaches out, brushes his fingers against yours. When you don’t pull away, he tangles your fingers together and looks up at you under his eyelashes, a look that worked really well for Cap-sized Steve with the couple of women he’d tried it on. It’s obviously working on you now, if the pink in your cheeks is any indication. Your breath catches just a little when his thumb strokes the softness of your hand, and if Steve felt any more full of himself his scrawny chest would burst out of his shirt.

Your voice is very soft. “Like I said . . . full of surprises.”

Guilt shoots right through his gut. Yeah, you’re a real big man putting the moves on a woman who doesn’t even know your name, you jerk.

He allows himself one more regretful squeeze before he pulls back.

“Speaking of old music,” you begin – and he feels shamefully glad that you’re moving the conversation on – “did I tell you what the historical society settled on for their fundraiser?”

He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head.

“A taxi dance!” you proclaim, inviting him to be astonished along with you.

Steve chokes a little. “A . . . a taxi dance? Like . . . where you pay?” Now that’s a blast from the past he never expected to see again, not even with those college kids who dress up in their granddad’s duds and lindy hop. (He and Bucky got invited to a competition a couple of years ago, right after Bucky was cleared, and even though Steve couldn’t dance well he’d had a lot more fun than he had seventy years ago. Bucky, it turned out, could still cut one hell of a rug.)

“Like where you pay! Costumes and everything.” You’re digging out the dregs of your sundae, shaking your head in amusement. “There’s a cover to get in, then the guests pay for each dance. They’re still working out how much and whether it’s gonna be period-accurate – you know, only women as dancers, with male guests.”

“There was one that went the other way,” Steve offers, “and a few where guys could dance with, um, with other guys.” He thinks for a minute. “But those were . . . you know, kind of back-room deals.”

Your eyes light up. “See, interwar social history isn’t my field, and I think the fundraising committee just saw a couple of movies about taxi dancers and figured they were close enough to real.[2] Do you remember where you read about the other ones? My friend Lila – she volunteers there – she’ll riot if she can’t dance with her girlfriend.” You’re pulling out your ever-present notebook expectantly.

“Oh, I. Um. On the internet?” Steve is mentally slapping himself upside the head, since neither Bucky nor Nat are here to do it. (He’s pretty sure about that; he’s been checking out everyone who comes into the shop, and unless they’ve found a new way to hide Bucky’s arm they’re leaving Steve to his fate tonight.)

“I know there’s a book about gay New York before the war, but I haven’t read it,” you muse, tapping your pencil against the table. “Anyway, I guess it’s not necessary right now. I don’t need to footnote my suggestions for the dance,”[3] you say, with a wry smile.

“But you ought to have a variety of dancers, if you’re gonna do it,” he insists, because a lot of the changes he’s seen are good changes, and this is one of them. “Are . . . are you going to dance?” he asks, feeling the tips of his ears flare red.

“Oh, god no!” you exclaim, so loudly that a few people look over and frown at Steve like he’s pestering you. You wave and mouth “sorry,” and they go back to their own sugar bombs. “I can’t dance at all,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I can trip myself lying flat on my back; I definitely can’t do a foxtrot in public. I’ll just help with refreshments.”

“I’m pretty sure most of the fellas at those things weren’t trying to win prizes,” Steve assures you, remembering his own few trips. “They were just trying to get their arms around a dame. Um. I assume.”

You look intrigued and also mildly repulsed. “I wonder if it’d be worse to have some stranger sweat gin all over me[4] or not be asked at all.”

“Not being asked,” Steve said decisively.

“I dunno,” you toy with your sundae spoon and look pensive. “I’ve been not-asked way more than I’ve been asked, and it’s no fun, but it sucks to be dancing with someone who’s drunk and grabby and rude.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not asking you to dance.” Though, to be honest, now he wants to fight any and every man who put that look on your face. Then he, Steve, will ask you to dance and probably won’t step on all of your toes as long as the song is a slow one.

You toss your hair and smile, but it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “Well, I’m not going to be the one dancer who doesn’t make any money at this thing, so I’ll just keep the punchbowl as my partner.” You peek up at him, and his fingers itch to draw that exact expression – hopeful, maybe a little coy? Is that what that looks like? he wonders. It’s not an expression many women have wasted on him, and he feels oddly puffed up again, and then . . . like he ought to say something. You’re definitely waiting for him to respond.

“Guess I’ll have to drink a lot of punch, then.” He doesn’t take your hand again, but god, he wants to.

[1] Check out Maxene Andrews, Over Here, Over There: The Andrews Sisters and the USO Stars in World War II (New York: Kensington, 1993).

[2] There are half a dozen or so from the peak taxi-dance era. The Taxi Dancer (1927), with Joan Crawford; Ten Cents a Dance (1931), with Barbara Stanwyck; and Child of Manhattan (1933) are the best known. Sweet Charity has a taxi-dancing protagonist, but it’s from a much later period. There’s also a very cute George Burns/Gracie Allen short on youtube, called “Once Over, Light” with Gracie as a taxi dancer.

[3] In proper Chicago/Turabian style

[4] A League of Their Own, directed by Penny Marshall (Columbia Pictures, 1992), DVD Special Edition (2004).

____________________

Frank Sinatra – “You’d Be So Nice To Come Home To”

Under stars chilled by the winter/ Under an August moon burning above/ You'd be so nice, you'd be paradise/ To come home to and love

READ CHAPTER FIVE

[mistletouchunderthetree]

like you've known me | rated T | word count ~25k

a @steddiebang fic coming february 29

featuring art by sharkscouts and @vesperalhemlock

Summary:

When the only way to beat the Upside Down is to erase it (and the last three years) from time, Steve Harrington is transported right back to the Fall of his junior year. His biggest problem? Everyone who had died in the last three years fighting inter-dimensional evils has no memory of the events. Suddenly, Steve finds himself with Tommy and Carol at his side and sitting mere feet away from Robin in class, and she has no idea who he is except the douchebag with the good hair that Tammy Thompson has a crush on.

With a little help from Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Lucas, and El, Steve will learn to navigate his life, The Right Way, this time. Which friends he wants to keep, who he wants to spend his time with, and if he wants to take notes in class this time around. If that means sometimes he needs a little weed to take the edge of stress off? Well, it's a good thing he knows a good dealer.

As things finally fall into place and Steve begins to re-form the most important relationship in his life, he thinks anything strange is over. Then, Robin starts mentioning weird dreams about ice cream and torture, and Max Mayfield shows up from California with an angry step-brother and a lot of questions. Maybe those memories aren't erased, after all.

Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Eleven, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, Max Mayfield, Billy Hargrove Tags: Romance, Angst, Friends to Lovers, AU: Time Travel to Pre-Season 1, Post-Season 4, Impermanent Major Character Death, Fix-it, Falling In Love, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington-Centric, First Kiss, Drug Use (Marijuana), Steve Harrington VS Junior Year (Again)

Excerpt (cont. under the cut):

It had been a few weeks in the new timeline when Steve jumped at the sound of the phone ringing through the empty house. He frowned, setting down his fork and walking to the phone. It was Wednesday, Steve was sure of it, and Dustin’s calls always came on Thursdays, so who the hell would be calling?

“Hello?”

“Hi, Steve.” Nancy’s voice was soft and sweet and surprising.

“Oh. Uh, hey, Nance, what’s up?” He asked, heart suddenly starting to race – not because he had feelings for Nancy but because if Nancy was calling then something was wrong. Had something happened? Had their plan not –

“Listen, I don’t have too much time, Mom’s making dinner and I just finished up my homework, but I really wanted to call you,” Nancy said. She wouldn’t start out so calm if something was happening, right? So this was just a social call?

“Um. Why?” He asked, then winced. Since when did he forget how to have a conversation?

He could hear Nancy’s sigh through the phone. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you at school lately, and –“

“Okay, creep,” he joked, lips curling at the corners when Nancy laughed.

“Shut up, I just mean I’ve – Look, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And like I said, I’ve been watching you in the halls and stuff, and I know you’re eating lunch in the library because Tommy told everyone in the cafeteria one day –“

He what?

“- and I know the whole thing with Robin is hard for you but…”

“But what?” He prompted when she trailed off.

“But you’re moping, Steve. You’re moping all over school, and probably all over your house.”

“I – wha- I mean, that’s not true,” Steve said, frowning.

“Steve, we beat the bad guys and everybody is fine. Everybody’s alive! And you’re moping.”

“Okay, now this just feels like you’re being mean.”

“I’m not trying to be mean, I’m trying to – “ She cut herself off with a frustrated groan. “Do you even know how El is doing?”

“I – what? Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s okay, Steve, but also, no, she’s not okay, because Hopper is still trying to find Owens since he’s the one that will probably know best if it’s safe for Jane Hopper to suddenly show up in Hawkins and enroll in school. So, she spends her days alone, but everyone always goes to visit her, every Saturday, at the cabin. Everyone except you.”

Steve felt tears prick behind his eyes. “I didn’t know.”

“Yes, you did,” Nancy said, sounding tired. “Dustin said he asked you to come that first weekend, and you said no, so he didn’t ask you again.”

“I don’t – I don’t remember that,” he admitted, feeling dreadful disappointment spread through his veins. “Nancy, I hardly – that first week was –“

“But it wasn’t just the first week, Steve. We’re all trying to get back to our lives but you’re just going through the motions. Even Dustin knows something’s wrong.”

“What? I talk to Dustin every week!”

“Lucas wanted to invite you to the park to play basketball and Dustin told him you probably still weren’t ready.”

Steve’s jaw dropped.

“Dustin knows you, in this timeline probably better than anyone, and he knows something’s wrong but he’s still just a kid, Steve, he doesn’t know how to deal with this.”

“Did Dustin ask you to call me?”

“No, this was my idea,” Nancy said. “I’m just a kid, too, Steve. I don’t know what to do to fix it but I want to help you, and so does Jonathan.”

“Jonathan wants to help me?” He asked, incredulous.

Nancy chuckled. “Honestly, I was as surprised as you are. But he does because despite everything, he cares about you. We all care about you, and it’s way too easy for you to hole up in your house and ignore everyone at school and… mope.”

“I don’t think I like that word anymore,” Steve said, even though it was true. His stomach twisted in knots at the sudden guilt he felt.

“Well I didn’t think you’d like it very much if I accused you of being depressed,” Nancy stated boldly, and Steve winced. “Just meet me and Jonathan at that picnic table outside of school tomorrow morning, okay? Like, twenty minutes before first bell. Can you do that?”

Steve swallowed thickly and fought every instinct in him that wanted to say no.

“Yeah, Nance. I can do that.”

Steve woke with a sense of dread hanging over him. He really didn’t want to show up just for Nancy and Jonathan to chew him out for how selfish he’d been (he could beat himself up for that without their help). But he got in his car twenty-five minutes earlier than he usually would, just to make sure he wouldn’t be late, and laughed to himself when he got to the school. He pulled into the empty spot next to Jonathan’s car. Apparently, they had the same idea.

Steve got out of his car and shouldered his backpack. He looked around; there were a few people milling about, and more cars pulling into the lot than he expected this early.

“Do people always get to school this early?” He asked by way of introduction.

Jonathan laughed and walked over to him. Nancy stepped up behind him and gave him a pointed look. “I think you’ll find that you’re just always late.”

“Yeah, okay,” he conceded. “So, uh… Picnic table?” He suggested, already feeling the stares of their classmates from around them.

Nancy and Jonathan agreed and they made the walk together, quietly taking in each other’s presence. Nancy was in between the two boys but it wasn’t as awkward as Steve expected it to be.

Maybe he really was over Nancy Wheeler, after all.

He choked on a laugh when the picnic table came into view, and they were sighted almost immediately.

“Oh,” Eddie Munson said, grabbing his metal lunchbox and dropping it near his feet. Steve snorted. Eddie huffed. “What?”

“As if we don’t know what’s in your damn lunchbox, Munson,” he said, finding himself immediately falling back into the banter he’d developed with Eddie before –

“I don’t really know what’s going on here,” Eddie admitted with an awkward, nervous laugh. “You three might be the weirdest combination of buyers I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh, we’re not –“ Nancy started, but Steve interrupted.

“I am,” he said, ignoring the looks from Nancy and Jonathan. He pulled out his wallet and made eye contact with Eddie. “I’ll –“ He paused, unsure of what to say. He’d never done this himself before. “I’ll take some weed. Uh – a joint? Uh. How much?”

Eddie looked at him with a furrowed brow and a frown on his lips. “Are you wearing a wire?”

Steve snorted a laugh. “Dude. What kind of operation do you think is being run in Nowhere fucking Indiana where a 17-year-old is wearing a wire for a drug bust on your tiny fucking lunchkit –“

“Okay! Okay,” Eddie conceded with a barely concealed laugh. Jonathan was openly laughing behind him, and Steve recognized the amused look on Nancy’s face.

Steve sighed when Eddie just kept looking at him like he didn’t believe him. “I’m being serious. If I’m not gonna have a social life anymore at least let me be high for it.”

“Amen,” Jonathan said quietly, and Steve choked down his laugh.

Finally, after a few more moments of silence where Eddie stared at his face, seemingly deciding whether or not to trust him, Eddie sighed and picked up his lunchbox. Steve let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“I’ll sell you a gram for twenty-five bucks. Do you want pre-rolled, or…” Eddie trailed off.

“Uh,” Steve said, unsure. “Yeah, that’ll probably be easier.”

Eddie opened his lunchbox and got to work rolling the joint. “Usually, it’s your friends I sell to,” he said conversationally.

“Not my friends,” Steve corrected, then awkwardly added, “I don’t have any of those.”

“We’re your friends, Steve,” Nancy said, and Steve could hear the pity that coated her voice.

“Didn’t you, like, dump him for him?” Eddie asked her, pointing first and Steve, then at Jonathan. Nancy huffed, took a breath to begin talking but Steve cut her off before she could begin.

"That's not what happened. Tommy and Carol told everyone that because they're pissed off that I don't wanna hang out with them anymore. Me and Nance are fine. Me and Jonathan are fine. Look. I know you're overcharging me so badly right now but I don't care enough to fight you on it. Can you please just sell me the weed?"

Eddie frowned. “Fifteen.”

Steve looked at him incredulously.

"What can I say? You guilt tripped me and I'm a sucker.” Eddie held out the joint. “Just. Take it."

"Thanks, Munson." Steve said, taking it and stuffing it in a zipper inside his backpack.

Eddie closed and shut his lunchbox, then stepped away from the table and gave a little bow. "King Steve."

"Just Steve."

Eddie looked at him through calculating eyes. "Just Steve, then."

The three of them waited until Eddie was far enough away before taking seats at the table.

Nancy started after a short awkward beat. "Look, start hanging out with us at school. I have mutual friends with Robin, somehow we'll get it through her head that you aren't a bad guy and then it's just a matter of winning her over again -"

"It really isn't like that; I’ve told you a million times, she's my best friend.” Steve said. “And I already just started fucking crying in front of her, I think the ship has sailed."

"Don’t say that, man," Jonathan said. "Just… give it time. Let the school get used to the new you. Maybe you can figure out if she's got a job and apply wherever she works and do whatever you did at Starcourt to make her like you."

Steve sighed. He already knew where Robin worked; she'd told him about the job she had before Scoops. "She's working at a hair salon as a receptionist right now."

"Sorry, they let Robin be in charge of answering phones and setting up appointments?" Nancy asked with an incredulous giggle.

"She doesn't last long," Steve admitted with a little laugh.

The bell rang, interrupting them and signaling the start of another day. Steve sighed to himself and stood, following Nancy and Jonathan into the school. At least he had somewhere to sit at lunch now.

And the chance to get high tonight.

[iaus]

hey !! i just read one of your fics and wanted to say you’re a fantastic writer !! since i only read the one i wanted to ask more about your fhsona freyja? if you wanted to talk about her at all, if not then just know you’re really good at description lol

oh my god you're so sweet!! 💕 i will happily overshare about them. ngl i was absolutely inspired by mr oyama making the craziest barbarian build and i'm like.... obsessed with barbarians at the moment so i was like. what is a batshit multiclass i could do that would be really funny. (landed on bard/barbarian)

i cannot draw worth a damn so i used a picrew but i did fill out a whole fhsona sheet for them.

also attached the tweets that were attached this image because i think. it really sells the jace madness i was starting to fall into

all the text is so small on the sona sheet because i was editing it on my laptop after eli (my DM friend) was like you should make a fhsona!!

when i made them i basically had this. mental image of a regina george-esque character combined with that text post (which i know is on my blog SOMEWHERE) but is just "imagine a passive-aggressive barbarian" and thus. freyja came into existence.

but to just kinda round up the tiny text that is SO hard to read:

Class: Senior (Whispers Bard / Wild Magic Barbarian)

Age: 19 / Pronouns: They/Him / Race: Firbolg

Family: Single mom + Grand parents / Middle child of 5 + helps take care of cousins on the weekends

Heroic Deed: Saved some middle schoolers from a demon someone summoned during summer break.

Personal Facts:

-> Started out in bard classes; transferred to barbarian at the end of sophomore year. (note: in my own head i feel like they started having issues with rage, combined with the wild surges everyone was like..... no you gotta transfer out of bard classes for your safety and your classmates safety.) -> Held back junior year for punching a teacher. (Note: while yes this would 100% get a student expelled, i feel like aguefort would be like. this is a fine example of what a passionate adventurer SHOULD be we can just repeat the year and call it good right :D also i still think it would be funny. it's still jace in my head. maybe porter. but i think porter would keep that under wraps because he'd be like. ah yes. a proper barbarian.) -> Tavern brawler feat -> Pastel emo mean girl -> Uses bard spells for evil (gossip) -> Works part time as a barista when not babysitting their cousins. Tells you how you want your coffee.

in my mind's eye freyja's a junior (for the second time) when tbk are freshmen and has HUGE beef with both porter and jace and is probably known for just straight up walking out of class after picking arguments with porter.

i think, despite the fact that they are extremely aggro towards specific teachers, they graduate without issue in tbk's sophomore year and during spring break probably would vandalize porter's office. for funsies for their senior prank.

also ngl i like. really want to make a teacher fhsona because i think i would get REALLY into that

[jasontoddiefor]

Absolutely begging for the trans WWX who’s living her best life as Lady Mo, I’m obsessed with this au

(Also I just want you to know there is now a crack version of this incredible au in my head where upon meeting “Lady Mo” playing Wangxian for Sizhui, Lan Zhan has a full on falls to his knees clutching WWX’s going “you’re as beautiful as the day I lost you” alla HTTYD 2, gets a dramatic (to Sizhui, read confused for WWX) “Lan Zhan!?” in response and the Lan Zhan (in an actual miracle of being able to communicate) goes “I raised A-Yuan all of these years for you, I’ve raised our son into a wonderful cultivator” (the miracle has ended, and WWX is currently bluescreening trying to connect the dots of teen I am traveling with is baby I loved what do you mean our son ooo wait Lan Zhan thinks I’m pretty!)

And thus creates the misunderstanding for Sizhui that “Lady Mo” is actually his apparently not-dead mom who’s apparently been vibing as a wandering musician for the past 13 years. Sizhui goes through the five stages of grief before settling on “I can work with this” as a-niang starts showering him with affection and apparently thought he was dead and thus began Sizhui’s grand scheme of luring his incredibly oblivious mother into marriage with his father and it becomes “unstoppable force vs unmovable object, second times the charm on baby trapping, right?” adventures.

This doesn’t matter but it’s important to me that you know this popped into my head. This au is absolutely incredible and there is so much comedy gold. NHS has been left alone in the group project but he still manages to scramble together enough to pass decently, good for him)

1 (Ao3) | 2 (tumblr)

aaah I'm flattered to hear that!! and tbh, it's not so much that NHS has been left alone in the group project but that he decided on the project and then didn't call anyone to do their parts. never got to write it but i figured the whole reveal would go sth like this:

Gusu doesn't look like Wei Ying remembers it, but it has been decades since her attendance. After the war, well, for all that Lan Zhan had asked her to visit, she'd never accepted it.

And look at her now! Going to the Cloud Recesses voluntarily, accompanied by Lan Zhan's little juniors. They're good kids, polite and inquisitive and opinionated and so very alive. She wondered how much Lan Zhan must have changed in the last years to raise them this well.

What if Wei Ying doesn't recognize him at all? No, that can't be. Lan Zhan was too memorable for Wei Ying to ever forget a single detail about him.

"Just ahead now, Lady Mo," says Lan Sizhui. "I'm not sure if my father is home. He's taken to traveling more...."

He trails off, his face splitting into a smile as he looks ahead. "He's there!"

Wei Ying expects some unfamiliar Lan, but no, standing there is Lan Zhan. He looks older, refined, and happy at their return.

Oh, thinks Wei Ying. I always want him to look at me like that.

Playing the dizi isn't always for pleasure, especially chenqing, summoning all kinds of evil, but the song Lan Zhan taught him is like homecoming. Wei Ying watches in delight as Lan Zhan's eyes widen in recognition, she thinks.

The juniors look at her in wonder, but Wei Ying pulls the dizi from her lips with a smile.

"Lan Zhan!" she calls, "Lan Zhan, I heard you're walking around, clearing my name!" And then, just for pleasure, just for herself, she calls his name again. "Lan Zhan, I've been traveling! I've seen the world and it's alive."

I'm alive, I'm here, won't you ask me to come with you a final time?

Wei Ying can't place Lan Zhan's expression until it breaks into something hopeful, something grieving, something lost.

"Wei Ying?"

[hazelcephalopod]

Alright here some of my thoughts for the beginning of Preacher season 3 -still insomnia posting.

What the hell is wrong with his Granma? Also this whole family sucks -except Jesses mom it seems.

Episode one- Jesse deals with things with violence and making questionably deals -worse than usual. Also. Half dead woman’s dark magic to bring back the dead.

Tulip backstory- it’s fucked up and sad! She just wanted to eat her cereal.

Cass is very done and tbh very fair at this point.

Protip. Don’t eat things a weird mean old witch gives you. Don’t do it. (No idea how that’s gonna pan out tbh but I’d wager on it being bad)

…or give them your spit. Don’t do it.

So. I don’t think the resurection spell really worked? She really was ready to go “fuck this asshole” until god sent her back. (Hilarious.)

…if she has to choose one of these men I’d advise on Cass tbh. (Based off the spoilers I have I believe it now gets even more love Trianguly and tbh I’m still on horses the ot3, the messiness makes it more fun)

Episode 2: Jesse tries to salvage things. Unfortunately he also makes very bad choices

Hey they sent him to school! Oh no this vice principle is the fucking worst. “She’s a junior” and your an adult man, with a wife. Stop it.

Oh it’s the soul extracter! For the family soul extraction business.

Don’t worry Tulip sure god will send you some horrifying visions. (Srsly he’s more interested in you then… seemingly anyone else looking for him)

“Who’s Jenny” -this is why they were leaving you Jesse! Truly paying no attention to them at all.

Tbh. My main feeling whenever the Grail or Star show up at this point is “these guys again really”? Yes I get it they are part of the plot as the antagonists and whatever but… do we hav to see this much of them? Doing whatever this is supposed to be? (Imagine if the Hare Krishna’s had managed to just take them out.)

Yes Jesse, Tulip is fine other than you are now captives of you’re frankly evil Gran’ma who doesn’t seem keen on letting anyone go

What the hell is happening with Cass and the smaller uncle? I’m not opposed I’m… I’m weirdly curious. (Later me- well. That’s not good. Avoid that uncle)

Yup and there’s the god visions coming back. (For all the sense they make)

I must admit from what I’ve seen of the uncles… Gran’ma just desperately trying to make Jesse her heir and legacy I get it. It’s not much but… we’ll I get it. Still evil.

I’m sorry it’s so funny that this show has a vampire and they are just like “wear covering clothes an carry and umbrella in broad daylight. That’s works!”

Oh right the fucking grail idiots are here. Also. You wait to shoot them right beside the swamp so you don’t have to carry them.

Lmao. Tulip has not gotten the memo about Jesse and Cass really breaking up hard.

Does the Grail teleport?! How the hell is Starr here?!

Welp. This is all going to shit.

Well Jesse is gone again. This time leaving the other two in an even worse situation! (Lol. Tulip and Gran’ma have foiled that in record time.)

Ill be the first to say people can change but they have to take the first step and demonstrate a willingness to do so and… so far there is not sign that’s gonna happen anytime soon with Jesse unless someone actually introduces a consequence he can’t easily overcome.

Great a weird clean murder dungeon.

[hyenahunt]

Saga: Rivals - 13

Writer: Akira

Season: Winter

Characters: Sora, Tsumugi, Hiyori

Proofreading: moricchiichan (JP) & hyenahunt (ENG)

Translation: kotofucius

Tsumugi: Oh no, I couldn't have given birth to him~ He’s a junior in my unit — Harukawa Sora-kun.

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: Front Gate

Sora: HaHa~♪ HiHi~♪ HuHu~♪

HaHiHuHeHo~♪

Tsumugi: Ahaha. You're in a rather good mood today, aren't you? Seeing you looking so happy makes me happy too, Sora-kun~♪

Sora: Really? It's a mutual interaction of happiness! Or actually, it's also the magic of Switch~♪

Tsumugi: It really is ♪ Ah, is this piggyback ride putting you in good spirits? Now that I'm thinking about it, you've been rather attached to me recently, haven't you~?

Sora: You mean I can't? Nuzzling up to your hair is just so soothing, Senpai, it feels like being inside a bird nest…♪

Tsumugi: No, of course you can~ You’re such an affectionate kid.

I’m happy you’d want to cuddle up to someone like me. To this day Natsume-kun still won’t soften up to me at all.

Sora: HeHe~♪ Don't worry~ Master loves you, Senpai!

Tsumugi: I wonder about that~ In fact, I think he hates me more and more every day.

I saw him on my way to school this morning, so I said hello, but all he did was shoot me a murderous glare and insulted me just as always.

Sora: HoHo~♪ So just like Sora, Master is feeling pretty down about Senpai’s graduation, isn't he?

Tsumugi: Hmm… But it’s not like death is splitting us apart or anything.

But I still haven't decided on my career path, so my future is rather unclear… could it be that Natsume-kun's also worried?

In that case, I wish he'd be more honest about it.

It's a little troubling that he keeps taking it out on me like this — the other day, he threw salt at my head as soon as he saw me, you know?

I tried to take it positively, and asked if we were reenacting the tale of Sodom and Gomorrah —

But without missing a beat, he told me he'd rain sulfur and fire down on me too!

Sora: HaHa~? Salt is for keeping monsters away, though~ Senpai, are you a monster?

Tsumugi: Oh, no~ I’m not anything as cool as that.

Sora: Demons are cool? Aren't they scary and creepy? Well, they also give you EXP when you take 'em down~♪

Tsumugi: That’s generally how they’re viewed, I suppose.

But recently, demons aren't as disliked as they once used to be — it's easy to see that when you consider everyone in UNDEAD.

In fact, I think it seems like evil has a kind of allure of its own.

Sora: Hmm~? Well, magicians were also once considered repulsive and eerie, weren't they~?

Tsumugi: Exactly. That’s why witch hunts happened.

You may be an exception, Sora-kun, but generally, when everyone around you points at something and says it’s bad, you'll start being convinced that it’s bad, too.

This may be a tasteless example…

…But suppose someone told you that there was a cockroach in some food as a joke. Even if it wasn't true, you'd think twice before eating it.

Well, I'd probably go ahead with eating it, actually… But that’s not quite the norm.

Sora: HiHi~♪ It's precisely because humans possess wisdom that they have imagination, and magic tricks take advantage of that, right~? To quote Master, that is!

Tsumugi: Yep, that’s why magic is most effective on humans. Now, back when I was in fine…

��Whoa, whoops?

Hiyori: Tsumugi-ku~un! Well done on coming to meet with us! As a reward, I shall grant you the high honour of gazing upon my smile…☆

Sora: Wah! That's too bright!?

Tsumugi: Wah―!? What’s wrong, Sora-kun? Did you get something in your eye? Please don’t flail about~ You'll hurt yourself if you fall, you know?

Hiyori: Ahaha. What's the matter, who's this boy? Is he your precious flesh and blood, Tsumugi-kun?

Tsumugi: Oh no, I couldn't have given birth to him~ He’s a junior in my unit — Harukawa Sora-kun. For some reason, he's been sticking close with me lately.

Hiyori: Sora? Is he from Ba-barrier, then? I do believe his name was in the files I received, yes?

Tsumugi: Wow, your memory is as impressive as ever~

That’s correct. From time to time, he performs in a temporary unit called Ba-barrier.

They perform less frequently than Rain-bows, or rather… There hasn't been much going on for them since the live performance they had in early summer.

But as far as I know, they haven’t disbanded.

Sora: Yep, they brought us members together at first since we had lots of free time, thanks to our usual units being a little inactive, you see~?

But both Switch and Valkyrie have gotten busier with all our public performances now!

Tsumugi: On top of that, MaM's Mikejima-kun still regularly flies overseas… I’m sure it’s difficult for all your schedules to overlap~

Whenever you're not around, Sora-kun, Natsume-kun gets more irritable than usual…

So if you wound up focusing too much on Ba-barrier, I'd personally be in trouble.

Sora: Ehehe, does he get lonely without Sora?

But Ba-barrier still sometimes meet up to update each other on recent happenings, and teach each other things we don’t understand, so we’re all getting along well~♪

Tsumugi: Ah… I did hear recently that there’s a new rule about getting dropped from Project-Saga if you haven’t been active enough, so you must all be working in a frenzy to avoid that, aren't you?

After all, you performed an S3 in the auditorium, and other similar things.

Sora: That's right! But our role is essentially to work as backstage supporters for Rain-bows — at least, that's what Kunugi-sensei wants to do!

So it isn’t good for us to stand out too much, you see~?

[ ☆ ]

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[iznsfw]

10, 19 and 24 pls

iz big qt <3

yeji fic wen :O

Minttttyyyyyy! Hi <3 Yeji fic? I dunnooooo, I'll try :( You're very cute yourself!

10. Top three favorite fic tropes.

I love friends-to-lovers. Trouvaille was the best portrayal I could have made of that, and also my most parasocial one...

I also love the roommate trope. ":000 THEY WERE ROOMMATES."

This is a bit weird, but I really like the authority figure x junior. It's the best when written right.

19. Share a snippet from a WIP without giving any context for it.

“You wanna know something?” you ask, rising from the velvet theater seat. 

Chaewon smiles prettily, her slim lips pulling up into a quirked grin. Her eyes disappear into half-circles. There’s an evil glint in them that sparkles like a diamond. And you want nothing more than to crush it six feet under with the skim of your shoe. 

“Do I have,” she says, raising her hands with a dramatic sigh, “any other choice?”

You hate her. Hate the way she walks with those tiny supermodelesque legs and talks with that musical voice and acts with that whole lot of self-assurance. She isn’t even all that—she’s just a girl who got lucky.

Before you know it, you’re pacing up to her. You grab her by her tie that’s as night sky blue as her hair and knock her to the wall. 

You hate how her condescending smile doesn’t drop. How she’s always so put together when men can’t be around her. How she doesn’t flinch even when you have her cornered to a wall with the temperature downer than the depths of hell, a place fitting for her.

“You’re the most self-centered whore I’ve ever met,” you spit. Oh, it splashes all over her face, yet not one spittle sullies her gorgeousness.

That’s another thing you hate. 

An index finger jabbed at her heart, a metaphorical knife, you yell more. “You’re a fucking bitch, Kim Chaewon. And you know it.”

Chaewon’s eyes don’t lose their train on you. As you unravel into a trainwreck, she’s right there, the composed pretentious girl she is.

You hate her and her everything. But what you most hate is when she grabs your head to kiss you, you don’t hate it at all.

24. Thoughts on flashbacks/forwards.

I like it when it's written into a scene rather than an author's note implying it's a flashback.

[kaijuworldorder]

Gadzooki + Konky Donk: The Empire Magazine review

Oh shit I was supposed to post this weeks ago and forgot, oops. Anyway, having seen Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire a second time and solidified my opinion of it, yeah it's pretty good! Major glow-up from the previous entry. It's not perfect and is no less stupid than its predecessor, but it's the kind of dumb movie that I like, one that doesn't go out of its way to insult my intelligence or annoy me. The things that worked about Godzilla vs. Kong are here only way more, and the things that sucked are mostly not here. There's just enough substance that my adult self is happy, and all the mindless wild spectacle that makes kWo Junior cheer and want to bash action figures together. Adam Wingard said in an interview that his aim was to make a modern-day Toho Champion Festival movie, and I think he succeeded. I'm no longer nearly as worried about the future of the MonsterVerse as I was. I thought this picture was going to suck ass, but I sure ate my words. 4 stars, check it out if you haven't yet.

There's the short version. Under the cut, I'll get into specifics of what I liked and what I didn't. If you're still wanting to see GxK and somehow haven't yet, I recommend doing so before reading on, because I spoil a lot of the movie here.

WHAT I LIKED

Big-time Inhumanoids vibes. The tone, the “journey into a subterranean world to stop evil monsters from taking over Earth” plot, Skar King being kinda like Metlar personality-wise and living in a horrible lava hell, the wacky pseudoscience and power armor (well, just a gauntlet but you get the picture), the gruesome violence…I half-expected the end credits to sound like this. GxK is the closest I think we will ever get to a big-budget theatrical Inhumanoids motion picture, unless a miracle happens and Hasbro decides to give a shit again and buys back the rights. For those who aren't familiar with Inhumanoids: get familiar with it, you’ll thank me later.

Rebecca Hall's new hairstyle. Yeah.

Bernie no longer sucks. Way less grating and unfunny, doesn't parrot fascist talking points every goddamned second, and the sense of wonder he shows upon seeing the Hollow Earth for the first time really won me over.

Jia. One of the previous movie’s strongest aspects in my opinion, particularly her dynamic with Kong, and that holds true in this picture as well. She gets a good deal more to do, shows off more range, and her whole emotional arc in this hits just right for me. Feeling alone even though you’re not, feeling like you don’t fit in anywhere, thinking there must be something wrong with you but you can’t put it into words…these are things I can relate to all too well. And I won’t lie, I choked up when she chose to stay with Andrews at the end.

Unfridging the Iwi. The previous film’s most egregious, unforgivable misstep has been walked back, and I couldn’t be happier. It’s also good to see the Iwi having a more active role in the story, instead of basically being window dressing like in Kong: Skull Island, which as much as I love that movie was kind of a problem. It helps that the Hollow Earth Iwi are just extremely cool. Love the crystal spears, the gravity pyramid and all their other Sufficiently Advanced tech. They’re like if Seatopia weren’t horrible assholes, or if the Nilai Kanai were in a better movie. I like 'em!

Dentist! A thing I love about the MonsterVerse is how it comes up with creative stuff involving kaiju that no other movie has ever really thought to do (e.g. Godzilla flashing Chellen-kov LIGHT from his spines as a threat display). I also like that it shows how the world has changed in response to the emergence of Godzilla and the others—how culture, the economy, politics, and general day-to-day life have shaped themselves around these creatures. Trapper exemplifies both of these things really well. I doubt I would ever have come up with the idea of a kaiju veterinarian, let alone written a scene showing how a dental procedure on a 300-foot ape would work, but I'm so grateful for that level of worldbuilding. He’s also just a goofy weird guy and I like him.

Golden Earring "Twilight Zone" needle drop. One of my favorite songs of all time is in this movie and I know it's kinda stupid to pop for things like that, but goddammit I loved it.

Kong’s arc. There’s just something really satisfying about finally seeing a King Kong who isn’t the last of his kind. Plus he gets a Trendmasters accessory robo-glove gimmick, which is just stupid enough that I'm into it.

Monster rasslin'. I do wish the fight scenes had more weight and scale to them, but goddamn, they're just so much fun and visually engaging. I can't dislike a movie where Godzilla does a vertical suplex.

Sucko. I love this horrible little ugly-cute weirdo/giant ape version of Rock Howard, and not just because “hehe funni mokney” or the bit where Kong uses him as a blunt object to clobber those other assholes. I got genuinely invested in him and Kong bonding, as he realizes that barely anyone in the Skar King’s domain ever showed him genuine kindness before. He is good and can stay.

The Skar King. Fantastic love-to-hate-him scumbag villain, chock-full of personality. You really want to see Kong and Godzilla kick this guy’s ass, and his cruelty and tyranny getting paid back in full at the end is so satisfying. The only thing that really sucks about him is his uncreative name. Like come on, “Hanuman” was RIGHT THERE, especially since the Whipslash can totally stand in for a tail.

Skar King’s soldiers. I love these Lost City of Zinj-ass motherfuckers. They're nasty and fun and I want action figures of them yesterday, so hey uh, Playmates, maybe get on that? Not like you'd have to spend a ton of money either, just reuse the Ferocious Kong and Skar King body molds and make a couple new heads, splash some red paint on em and voila, instant gorilla warfare. That one balding ape with the fucked-up eye who Sucko kicks off the pyramid to his death might require some new tooling, but nothing major.

Shimo. It's nice to have an antagonist monster who isn't evil, and is still alive at the end of the picture. We don't often get reptilian monsters not named Godzilla that are babyfaces, and ice powers are rare in Toho kaiju circles. She's just a breath of fresh air, with a simple but effective design and a genuine emotional hook; I really felt bad for her when the Skar King was bossing her around and basically torturing her, and the joy she feels at her freedom from his control transcends onto me, the viewer.

Mothra is so fucking back. She makes her presence felt, she doesn't die this time, and she gets a little more to do here than in King of the Monsters, which I appreciate. I still say she ought to have a solo spinoff movie; she's Strong and Cool™ enough to stand on her own, and there's so much more you can do with her than just being Godzilla's conscience and bestest pal.

Tiamat. It was nice to see her in motion finally instead of just being relegated to tie-in comics that the movies ignore 99.9% of the time. Shame we’re never gonna see her again.

WHAT I DIDN'T LIKE

Junkie XL's score. Soulless and unmemorable hackery, just like his work on Godzilla vs. Kong. The Skar King motif sounds like he started to compose something and then just gave up. He also has a Jimmy Hart version of "Mothra's Song" to accompany the previous movie's Jimmy Hart Godzilla theme, and it's just as lame. Bring back McCreary or Desplat, please and thank ya.

AVP-wi. As much as I like the Hollow Earth Iwi, I’m a little annoyed that the Iwi are now apparently the only ancient monster-worshiping culture there has ever been. It feels dumbed down, and limits what future stories in this setting will be able to do.

Godzilla Evolved. Boy oh boy do I have a lot to say about this, none of it good. Godzilla's new look is way too busy and overdesigned with all these spiky greebles all over him that make him look more like a Monster Hunter boss than the King of the Monsters, and his proportions physically hurt me to look at. Where did all the internal organs in his torso go to make his waist that slim? What the fuck is up with his arms? Why are there dorsal spines growing out of his elbows and forearms? It just doesn't look right. I get that they're trying to evoke the Godzilla 2000 design with the giant pink spines and slimmer body proportions and the spikier and slightly greener skin (it's even got the same feet) but it just isn't done that well, and besides, if I wanted to see that design, I'd watch that movie. It’s just fucking up the cohesion of the Legendary Godzilla design and eroding its visual identity even more, dragging it further and further in directions it wasn’t meant to go in a cynical capitalistic move to sell new toys. I said it in 2019 and I'll say it again: if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Moreover, it's 100% cosmetic and doesn't actually affect the movie at all in any meaningful way, it's just Dragon Ball-style "new color = stronger" power creep. We keep being told how much more powerful Godzilla is now, but we're not shown any evidence that there's a significant difference. It doesn't feel like there's anything Evolved Godzilla does that regular Godzilla couldn't or hasn't before. He doesn't act any different or display new abilities. His new thagomizer and Batmanesque arm spines? Never uses 'em, they're just more surface greebles to clutter up the design. Why make changes like that if you're not gonna do anything with them? Hell, the only new trick Godzilla shows off in this, the classic blue Nuclear Pulse, is something he uses before he evolves! And then he never does it again after that! Even the atomic breath color change is meaningless. We're told it's stronger than before, but again, we never actually see that; it doesn’t seem to do any more damage to monsters or buildings than the old one did. Sure, it burns away Shimo's ice storm at the end, but Godziller burned a tunnel all the way through the fucking Earth with the regular blue breath in the last movie, so it doesn't really feel like something he needed a new form to be able to do. I don't believe for one second that Godzilla Evolved was necessary; there's not enough real difference between it and Original Flavor Godzilla to justify its existence. I realize that's probably unfair of me to say since I don't know if or how much anything that would've helped illustrate the difference better may have been part of the movie before but got cut for time, but to me at least, the effect on the finished film is that Most Powered-Up New Godzilla® just feels like a palette swap in a video game, and that's not great. Maybe instead, oh I dunno, you could have Godzilla have a rough time and just barely win against Scylla in Rome instead of wasting her in seconds, Final Wars-style? Maybe have a little flashback to the ancient war of Godzilla vs. Hanuman & 700 Big Gorilla, like show him barely surviving that, so we get an idea of what he's up against? Then when he powers up, we can buy that he's stronger now, like a sense of progression or something. Instead, what we get is basically a Hong Kong martial arts flick if it showed the hero doing a training montage and then beating all the bad guys, but didn't show any of why he needed to train in the first place, e.g. the bad guys kicking his ass. It's a payoff with no setup. I assume this is probably a side effect of Godzilla in New Empire being what immature people with bad opinions claim he was in Godzilla (2014)—a guest star in his own movie—so there might not have been a way to avoid this problem without significantly altering the pacing, but like…could they have at least fucking tried?