#ooo he wanna get fUcKEd Up 😤

[myownworstenemyyy]

Pt2 to this post. At this point it looks like there’ll be 4 parts in total :)

Robin is basically seething with rage when she walks into Thatcher Tire before the start of her own shift at Family Video. After a month of Steve being happier than she had ever seen him before, he showed up on her doorstep on the verge of tears last night. She had to listen to him talk about Eddie until well after midnight. About Eddie, who had apparently only been “fucking around” with him for the past month, while Steve was falling head-over-heels for him.

Robin liked Eddie, of course she did. But one part of her had not even been surprised about this turn of events. It was the part of her that had never fully trusted Eddie – the part she had tried her very best to shut up because she didn’t want to believe in the possibility of it being right.

It was the part of her that had been warning her that something about Eddie and Steve seemed off right from the beginning: how Steve was falling, with complete faith and no safety net, while Eddie was… Well, it wasn’t like he was actively mean or cruel in any way. It wasn’t like he seemed to be using Steve or like he wasn’t really into him. None of that. But there had always been this something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Now she finally knows what it was.

Keep reading

[thesimplicityofchance]

DUDEEEEEE! That episode like wow. I genuinely felt so bad for the little monster 😭 ! I want him to just slaughter the goddess at this point 😤

Yeah I'm starting to think maybe the goddess isn't as much of a force for good as she made the other people think. Like she left that other great dark mage guy to die in the ruins of disposal after he served her. So something tells me she might actually be the demon king. Because if not I wanna see how fucked up the demon king is. I did really like how quickly all those tough holy watcher guys went from ooo we are so evil and can do what we want to anyone. To oh oh shit fuck shit this guy isn't fucking around. Like I can't imagine how scary that would be to know how strong your friend was and watch him just get paralyzed from a soft spoken word. That's what I love he doesn't even say his spells with aggression or malice. He's just like nope your dead and here's me telling you that. I wanna see what the leopard headed guy in the cover picture is like!! 😭

[outcast-thingz]

~Commentary of Blooming Panic pt 6~

☆ ooo~ screen glitch. More mysterious things are happening

☆my email you say? Sounds sketchy

☆ it knoooows

☆mayhem and chaos. It's all I live for

☆of course it was different for you. Still interesting though

☆ the subtle smile 🥺

☆His laugh!! Jajxhdv favorite one so far

☆haha nightowl doesn't have that kind time but interesting

☆ oh 1-10 stress scale game mmmm 10 for everything 😂 nah joking like a 7 for the first one

☆ 10 on the second question... salo how the fuck cam you be so calm. All due respect of course

☆ So I get the Nathaniel hate cause really he shouldn't have yelled at Lola like that but also it doesn't automatically make him a horrible person, definitely an asshole though

☆ She's in the middle of her transformation so yeah.. She's gonna be a bit needy especially for support but honestly they should have talked about it. Nathan definitely should have talked about her "neediness" bothering him sooner. However given how the relationship ended he as room to grow now and hopefully recognizes where he went wrong.

☆i don't know that's just kinda how I looked at it..

☆also onion is always trying to start shit with the others

☆ oo more glitchy screen

☆ I like that they're theorizing about who the author is -if- they were in the group

☆His room is not stupid 😤 i quite enjoyed seeing Nightowl's room!! Pretty colors and decorations

☆ hahaha the gamer channel. No please, I wanna join i haven't been able to play a final fantasy game...🥺

☆haha "a few" hours, come on man you and me both know its gonna end up being waaay more than that

☆you? Give up? As if 😂

[eddiebillysteve]

because the sweet @andormeddows did this with one of my fics, i wanna pass the love along and do the same this to this fic by 🐝 because i’ve been dying to read it!!!!! read along with my dumb ass thoughts under the cut :’ )

You died that night. —GooD tbh

Lifeless body being carried away by the Mindflayer —NVM I TAKE IT BACK

Behind the blue camaro —OH YEAH BB THE CAMAROOOO

Until silence, dead bodies surrounding you, all except for one. —ooo o o o oo shit

large bats rapidly flying through the air towards you —NOT THE DEMOBATS

returning to the places they sleep at night, back to their families —how are the demobats cute to me rn 😭😭

All of yours had died and two of your sisters had gone missing in 1979 and 1983. —Jesus that’s so SAD

They thought you were ‘hooking up’ to get special treatment —omg ✨ special treatment ✨ maybe i WAS

and if you were alive you’d rather be dead than have to suffer through this pain. — 🥺🥺🥺🥺

A guardian angel, perhaps. —honestly this is what i’d think even if i wasn’t dying bc billy is beautiful bye

Nothing existed to you anymore. You didn’t exist. — This is a beautiful line and i feel it in my soul rn even tho i’m not in the upside down

Three things you could see from atop this trailer were the red skies with a small number of wispy black clouds passing slowly above your head, lightning in the sky, electrocuting the bat-like creatures that had been coasting around, and a forest of pillars, each occupied by a cloud of black smoke from afar, standing just a few feet away from you. And now you could see the figure clambering up to the rooftop, limping towards you. —Your writing is so descriptive and I want to take notes on how to GET A VOICE LIKE YOURS BC ITS SO GOOD JFc

Tears welled in his vulnerable eyes as he took a hold of your shoulders —MY BABY 🥺

another body breathing, living above you, with his thighs straddling yours —I make everything so dirty in my brain oh my god like not the straddling

a feeling almost alien to him. Almost. —I’d die for him tbh

he stood about 6 foot tall, with big strong arms and his long, dirty blonde curls fell around his handsome face. His muscles gleamed with a slick coating of sweat and blood, and you swore his stature looked like that of a male adonis sent down from heaven to help you. The necklace he wore around his neck brushed against your thumping chest, settling down as he slipped into your arms. — JUST 🥵🥵🥵🥵

You were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. —I wish 😭 this is why i struggle reading x reader fics bc i hate myself too much but i am INTO THIS so we’re pretending i’m someone else 😂😂😂😂

A vine snaked its way around his waist, reminiscent of the way Toni, his ex-girlfriend, —me: fuck toni billy can only be with steve eddie or me 😤😤

He pulled your intertwined fingers up to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your bruised knuckles, —CRYIGNGFF

His eyes began to tear up once more at the sight, the sun on your upper arm reminding him of a memory he treasured in his mind. Him and his mom at the beach, just the two of them, before his little sister had come along. —billy thinking about his mum and the beach is always too much for me i s2g

And for once it wasn’t your papa or other patients at the hospital. —omg how did it not occur to me until i read ‘papa’ THAT IT’S THE LAB AM I AN IDIOT OR IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE A HOLY SHIT IM MINDBLOWN MOMENT BC AAAAAA I LOVE THIS SFUCK

He thought he’d never see the sun again, but there you were, right in front of him. —tbh tattoo this line on my forehead. Read it at my funeral. I am IN LOVE WITH IT JESUS WHAT A BEAUTIFUL LINE

watching as his bottom lip jutted out in a pout, wiping away a stray tear that had begun to roll down his cheek. —babygirl 🥺🥺🥺🥺

“I like to think I looked good while dying, even if my hair got messed up,” he laughed breathlessly, a sound for sore ears, —honestly he’s right he did look real fucking good while dying idk i dont make the rules

Sorry, I don’t think I quite caught your name?” — it’s megan but hopefully one day it won’t be 🤭

He looked like something straight out of a horror film; the handsome serial killer who uses his looks to lure girls in… That type. —i’d be his first victim bc i’d be THIRSTING over him faster than he could say ‘get in the car’ or smthing like that

“My name,” you said, pointing to the ink. “My name is F- Four.” — I’M INTO THIS i like four :’ )

He’s in the walls of the hospital now. —GOD another beautiful line

you both settled on IV, the Roman numeral for Four. “A lovely nickname for a lovely girl. And if you don’t want to be called that I can call you… (Y/N)? You look like a (Y/N).” —The me in this story is gna go by ‘Ivy’ now since that’s how you say IV which means four anyway so it’s CUTE

I fucking hate being happy.” —we love a bitter rat boy

“It’s Billy… Billy Hargrove.” —yes it IS bb yes it is

So that concludes my live reading of stitches pt 1 and i cannot WAIT to read the rest god damn

it’s also making me want to try my hand at an x reader fic even tho i think i’d stink at it so YOU’VE CONVERTED ME

Stitches - Volume I

part 001 - A Kiss Before Dying

fandom - Stranger Things (2016-)

pairing(s) - Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington X Fem!Reader

taglist - @vingtetunmars @dallysnecklace @in-love-with-will-byers @taecube if you would like to be added or taken off please let me know in the comments <3

warnings for this chapter - violence, mention of death, mention of a massacre, mention of hawkins national laboratory, the shadow monster/mind flayer, a character is kinda ooc but that’s a given we all know i can’t write characters in character (but also they’re scared shitless so i guess i’m let off the hook with this for now).

word count - 3.5k

quick note before i get started here - im so excited to post chapter one of my passion project, stitches! it has elements from every season but with my magical twist on it and i hope you enjoy as much as i did writing this. also i’m still grieving, okay? this fic gives me hope for the future. so if i rip your heart out and crush it with my fingers, i’m sorry (no i’m not) - bee 🐝

You died that night.

Simple as that.

One moment you were breathing, feeling your nerves tumbling around your insides, hearing the screams from your friends as you were launched into the air, immense pressure being added to your joints, your lifeless body being carried away by the Mind Flayer.

Being swung around every which way as it jumped from street lamp to street lamp down, looking for… something, tears falling from your eyes upon the impact of the cold, fresh air around you. And having left the other bodies at the hospital it would be much easier to take just one body back to its lair. You.

On the way to wherever the monster was taking you, it suddenly stopped, and the sound of police sirens surrounding a burning car and screams filled your eardrums, your eyes widening in horror as the shopping mall behind the blue camaro burst into flames and collapsed in on itself.

Not a second later your body fell heavily to the ground, bones on the brink of shattering after the pressure being put on them, and a dark red puddle appeared by your left side where the monster had bitten into you, the side from which you were carried to… Whatever this place was. Hell on Earth? You didn’t know, and, or, couldn’t tell.

You couldn’t hear the police sirens anymore, couldn’t see the horror imprinted on your friend’s faces as they tried to take down this monster, screaming and shouting, giving it their all. Until silence, dead bodies surrounding you, all except for one.

Your eyes stared lifelessly into the red skies, large bats rapidly flying through the air towards you, not able to see the bright lights of the hospital any longer, instead laying on the blood covered tiles with nobody in sight.

Or so you thought.

The bats flew away upon hearing something, returning to the places they sleep at night, back to their families. At least they had family. All of yours had died and two of your sisters had gone missing in 1979 and 1983. And now you, missing today, in the summer of 1985. You needed to find them, even though you hated them and they hated you because of how close you were with one of the doctors. They thought you were ‘hooking up’ to get special treatment.

You had to find your friends. But not right now. Right now you were on the verge of dying, or you were already dead. You couldn’t tell, the pain was unbearable, and if you were alive, you’d rather be dead than have to suffer through this pain.

Your eyes gained focus on a figure looming in the distance, stumbling as he held onto his blood soaked chest, holding what was left of his once white shirt to the wound to attempt to stop the bleeding. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, and you didn’t feel the hands that grabbed you by the waist, the icy blue eyes looking deeply into yours, searching for a sign of life.

A guardian angel, perhaps.

Nothing existed to you anymore. You didn’t exist. But a sudden blow to your stomach made you instantly snap your eyes open.

You lay atop a building, one you were quite unfamiliar with; in a trailer park, surrounded by similar trailers covered in moving black tendrils and vines, broken windows, and spores floating around the air. And you could hear something in the distance: it sounded like… loud, obnoxious noise. Music of some sort. And it sounded like it was coming from below you, but not from the trailer you were laying on.

Was it coming from… the sky? How is that possible?

You couldn’t stitch together any thoughts and had absolutely no clue what part of America you were in, or if you were still even in America at all anymore, but the entire scenery before you made your heartbeat accelerate in your chest, as if it hadn’t been beating fast enough already.

Three things you could see from atop this trailer were the red skies with a small number of wispy black clouds passing slowly above your head, lightning in the sky, electrocuting the bat-like creatures that had been coasting around, and a forest of pillars, each occupied by a cloud of black smoke from afar, standing just a few feet away from you. And now you could see the figure clambering up to the rooftop, limping towards you.

Your stomach dropped, a nauseated feeling coursing through you as you came face to face with him. Though your body seemed to feel slightly better with each passing minute, and soon enough, you managed to pull yourself to sit up, to look this person dead in the eye.

He hovered above you, cold blooded, veins black and prominent like the vines and tendrils on the floor and all over the trailer, drying blood on his face, leaving him almost unrecognizable to anybody that knew him. Tears welled in his vulnerable eyes as he took a hold of your shoulders, his long eyelashes fluttering with a deep worry. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, his face became more clear than ever to you, and you felt a spark ignite between you as you lifted the palm of your hand up to his face to cup his cheek.

“Hello?” You whispered, your eyes lighting up at his presence. Another life. You thought you were alone, but no, there was another body breathing, living above you, with his thighs straddling yours.

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, a feeling almost alien to him. Almost. You let out a small chuckle of relief, and so did he. And he felt himself slipping into you, a stranger’s arms, as his body shook, racked with an exorbitant amount of confusion and the fear of the unknown.

He looked young, not a day over eighteen years old, but a little older than you.

Despite his fragile state he stood about 6 foot tall, with big strong arms and his long, dirty blonde curls fell around his handsome face. His muscles gleamed with a slick coating of sweat and blood, and you swore his stature looked like that of a male adonis sent down from heaven to help you. The necklace he wore around his neck brushed against your thumping chest, settling down as he slipped into your arms.

It took him a moment to remember what had happened to him. His once warm smile banished to neverland, never to return, replaced with a tight lipped expression that had felt like a straight punch to his own stomach. A punch and blow harder than anyone had ever given him. The tears streaming down your face dampened your skin, your features all blending into one, like an oil painting. One that he would want to hang up on his wall and cherish forever. You were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Except he couldn’t do any of that now. He was dead. And so were you.

The moment he slipped into your inviting arms he felt like two hands were grabbing his own arms, trying to pull him away from you, but he held on. He kept holding onto you, wrapping his now fragile arms around your body.

A vine snaked its way around his waist, reminiscent of the way Toni, his ex-girlfriend, had done day and night before the accident, creeping up to surprise him with her presence at school, or at home when he wasn’t expecting it, or to show that she was his only one.

Now you both had each other by the fingertips, weaving them together like a crochet blanket or a wicker basket, holding on for dear life. Or death. But he didn’t feel like he had died. He remembered the Mind Flayer’s arm shooting through the first three layers of the skin of his chest, as an unknown, supernatural force had stopped the Flayer from completely puncturing his heart as it had done with you. But the blood loss was too much, and he ended up passing from that, now lying in your arms, but that sensation of being tugged away wouldn’t stop.

He pulled your intertwined fingers up to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your bruised knuckles, and you started to see that maybe, finally, he might have calmed down.

“Too pretty to die,” you choked out, the first thing you could think of, watching in horror as blood began dripping from your own mouth and nose and onto his hands. “Won’t let you die. Not this time.”

The furrow in the boy’s brows softened, and he rested his forehead against yours, the feeling of warmth radiating around you in the cold, dead world that you now inhabited. He looked down at the little space between you, gazing at and admiring the small tattoos on your arms: one with a small sun and the word ‘sunshine’ scrawled beneath it that Sapphire had given to you when you two were left alone in your hospital room. And the one you had always kept a secret from everyone, sitting underneath the piece of red fabric you tied around your wrist like a bracelet.

His eyes began to tear up once more at the sight, the sun on your upper arm reminding him of a memory he treasured in his mind. Him and his mom at the beach, just the two of them, before his little sister had come along. The only time he had ever truly been happy. Until now.

“You saved my life,” the boy choked out, almost a whisper, small spurts of blood falling from his aching mouth. “Why?”

Why?

You frowned, running a hand over your head and hair in thought. Your mind refused to work properly in the moment, caught in a haze, only two thoughts circling your mind in that moment: one part of you needed to know what the hell he was talking about, and another screamed at you to take his hand and run.

There’s no shame in running, right?

But you were exhausted. From trying to stop your once best friend from destroying the place you called home, to comforting Bella and Jamie when they thought Saph was on her last few breaths. But then you ended up here, along with this boy, in the depths of hell.

You didn’t deserve to be here. And neither did he.

The boy noticed a flicker of hesitation in your eyes as you begged her throat to let you speak, your words croaking out, almost inaudible, like somebody had been squeezing your throat too hard. And for once it wasn’t your papa or other patients at the hospital.

It’s just a dream, you thought. You couldn’t even begin to count how many times you’d dreamed of something like this; falling, falling from a window you broke in the hospital, until you’d wake up in your mentor, Peter’s, arms panting and crying, not wanting to admit it to yourself or anyone else that you’d been crying over a stupid dream. But this dream was nothing like anything you’d ever experienced before.

Something wasn’t right.

You felt your power this time, stronger than usual, you could feel and hear the squelching noises beneath your bodies. Your vision was too clear and your skin began to prickle with goosebumps, which had never happened in your dreams before.

But this… This time it wasn’t a dream. And this time Peter wasn’t there to catch and comfort you.

You were actually falling, the electric shocks from the lightning missing your body by mere inches, getting closer and closer to falling on top of the trailer with each passing second.

Finally, you snapped, and you realized you’d been leaving the boy hanging for the last two minutes for your answer. Your body tensed, holding in air for a second, before letting yourself threaten to scream if you couldn’t get your words out any other way.

“Because even though my papa thinks I’m a monster, I’m proving him wrong. I was the only one who survived the massacre. I’m the strongest in that place, but he couldn’t see that. So I’m proving to him that I can save lives, even if he can’t see me,” you whispered back, watching as his eyes shifted around the area surrounding you, and to gain his attention back you prodded the tip of his nose with the pad of your left index finger. “Beep!”

You know that feeling you get when you step from a dark place and into the sun, and the lights so white and hot that your eyes ache and you’re blinded? Where you panic for just a moment, afraid you’ll never see that sun again?

That’s what it felt like looking into your (e/c) eyes, and he willed his own eyes to not water from your brightness. He thought he’d never see the sun again, but there you were, right in front of him.

He smiled, wrapping his arms back around you, and it felt strangely familiar, engulfing you in his big arms and tight embrace. His chest heaved as he inhaled, smelling remnants of lavender and jasmine on your skin. A perfect combination.

And just like that his eyes glazed over and his smile wavered, his mind being drawn back to the reality that there was no hope of the both of you making it out of here alive. If you could even leave.

He whimpered into your hair, and finally the vines and tendrils released him, letting his body slump over yours, the impact knocking the air out of your chest.

“Ugh,” you groaned, the stretching of a gash on your lip as you spoke making you wince in pain.

The boy noticed this action and next thing he knew he was caressing one of the gashes on your lower lip with the pad of his thumb as you caught your breath. You gave him a small smile of appreciation, trying to not hurt yourself again.

“I know this will be hard to hear but I think we died…” you lamented, watching as his bottom lip jutted out in a pout, wiping away a stray tear that had begun to roll down his cheek. “I know, I know. We’ll get you outta here soon, okay?”

“I like to think I looked good while dying, even if my hair got messed up,” he laughed breathlessly, a sound for sore ears, like the most perfectly crafted piece of music you ever heard. Like Wolfgang Mozart’s ‘Requiem’. “Not that it matters now. And we’ll both get out of here. I’m not leaving you here on your own… Sorry, I don’t think I quite caught your name?”

You stayed silent, running your hands through his curly hair to put it back into shape, or some sort of shape that wasn’t almost fully over his face as it was when you first saw him. He looked like something straight out of a horror film; the handsome serial killer who uses his looks to lure girls in… That type.

“I’m pretty sure Satan won’t care what we look like when we face him,” you replied with a small chuckle, avoiding the question about your name. For one you didn’t know, being addressed as the tattoo on your wrist for as long as you could remember, and two—

“I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours first.”

“Not a chance!” He barked a laugh. “I asked first!”

You rolled your eyes, he wasn’t going to give up any time soon. You showed him your wrist, the tattoo you never showed anyone gleaming under the red sky. He blinked in confusion, until it slapped him in the face like a wet fish.

He’d seen a tattoo like this before. Where? He couldn’t exactly remember, but he was sure he saw it.

As his thumb caressed your inked skin the sensation of the needle being jabbed into you as you were strapped down in the chair came back, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to get the pain to go away.

“Zero,” he said. “Zero,” he repeated. “Four? What does this mean?”

“My name,” you said, pointing to the ink. “My name is F- Four.”

He laughed in disbelief. “Jeez, your parents must be even more crazy than mine!”

“We all have numbers like this. Papa did this to us. Me, Jane and Kali were the only ones who escaped. Jane killed everyone, including my best friend, Peter, and then she went to… Um… I can’t remember where I saw her go. We went separate ways and I was found by Papa and thrown back into the hospital to ‘get better’. And then I was taken by the monster to whatever place this is.”

He cursed under his breath, taking your hands in his, giving them a little squeeze of reassurance. “Did you say Eleven? I…”

“She wasn’t very nice to me…” you admitted, wishing you’d uttered your statement quieter as you heard a small creak and snap of something in the distance, followed by a blood curdling scream. It sounded like a girl. But you chose to brush that off as you continued.

“…And she was Papa’s favourite. She got special treatment and got to spend more time with Peter than anyone else. And then she… she killed him, r- right in front of me. He’s in the walls of the hospital n-now.”

Your voice wavered at the end of your statement, lip quivering, weaving your own fingers together to distract yourself from the truth that yes, Eleven had been getting special treatment in the hospital. But besides Peter, she was the second strongest person you had ever seen, after you, so you had to give it to her.

The boy nodded, sucking in a short breath before exhaling deeply through his nose. “I understand that you don’t like Eleven, but she tried to save my life. She was the only person who was ever nice to me other than my mom. I think she’s changed, …Four.”

You nodded in reply slowly, thoughts running through your mind as you listened to his laboured breaths, suppressing a wince each time his slightly rough fingertips grazed over a small cut on your skin.

“You can call me a name if you like… If calling me Four makes you uncomfortable. I won’t be offended.”

“It’s not making me uncomfortable but it might stop you getting bullied when we get back into the real world,” he mused. “And besides, if anyone does bully you, come straight to me and I’ll sort ‘em out, okay?”

His smile was a bit more genuine this time, and he found himself slipping a weakened arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, the side with less blood stains covering his skin.

You both decided it was for the better. He would call you by your number around you and your inner circle, if you had one, and otherwise you both settled on IV, the Roman numeral for Four. “A lovely nickname for a lovely girl. And if you don’t want to be called that I can call you… (Y/N)? You look like a (Y/N).”

“Sure…” You trailed off, a smile creasing in your eyes and lips. “You still haven’t told me your name yet!”

He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Damn, I thought I’d gotten away with it. Since you’re being nice to me, I’ll tell you. But only if you promise me one thing.”

“And what’s that?” You asked, maneuvering your body to sit on the edge of the trailer, suddenly jumping to your feet on the ground, narrowly avoiding a tendril beside your left foot.

“Promise me you’ll stop scrunching up your nose when you smile. It’s too cute and It’s making me happy. I fucking hate being happy.”

The sweet sound of your laughter ringing through the air around you both was worth looking like an idiot for. And he hated you for it. He hated that a girl he met five minutes ago could make him feel a way that somebody he’d known all his life never ever could.

“You have a beautiful laugh,” he said, showing off his perfect pearly whites as he smiled.

“And you have a dopey smile, … Still haven’t gotten your name yet. Will I call you No-name?”

He didn’t bother replying to that, too busy wanting to aggravate you with that shit-eating grin on his face. All he wanted to do right now was annoy you, and also he wanted to fall asleep, whatever happened to him had his energy almost fully drained from him and he just wanted to curl up into a ball and close his eyes to forget about what just happened.

Which was easier said than done.

You didn’t back down, continuing to ask him repeatedly, poking at his ribs as you did so, making a frown furrow in his brows. But you didn’t care, if he lashed out at you it wouldn’t hurt, you were roaming freely here already dead after all. “I won’t stop until you tell me!” You said, a grin wide on your face.

He sighed, and finally, maybe he just gave in.

And yes, he did.

“It’s Billy… Billy Hargrove.”

part 002: the girl with the number tattoo