#please; vicki; believe him. trust him. (love him)

[widowshill]

102.

[chelseeebe]

falling.

a/n: wow man, i truly am awful but i’ve been very ill and very busy and have seriously neglected writing so have a lil something i wrote to ease back into it! it’s a continuation of seven minutes in heaven and on my knees (for you) but is very much fluff and lovely<3

18+ mdni. smut. mentions of r being drunk but mostly just love and fluff<3

everybody knew.

or at least now they did.

there’s not much room for secrets when you’re drunk and clambering all over him in front of a room full of your friends, was there?

eddie’s never seen you so.. loose. the bottle of wine had ignited something within you, clearly. your fingers twisting into his shirt, sticky, gloss-covered lips attached to his neck.

he’s grateful that your leg is slung over his lap, hiding the uncomfortable rising in his pants, made worse by your constant fidgeting and the soft whispers into his ear.

it wasn’t as if you two were much of a secret anymore anyway, robin, nancy and vickie had all figured it out that day he answered your door in his boxers. and now at least most people had caught on.

“i need you eds,” you whisper sultrily, not a care for his poor growing boner. there are only so many dead puppies you can think of before it stops working, by the way.

“we can’t..” trust, he had already surveyed the house and decided that sneaking off would be highly risky, too much chance for interruption to make it worthwhile.

“we can,” you beg, practically growling into his ear, “let’s go home,” fingertips now dancing down his shirt, dangerously nearing the waistband of his jeans.

he blinks, turning his head to face yours, noses bumping against each other, “it’s not even ten.. we can’t leave yet,” he wouldn’t have sex with you like this anyway, too much pinot grigio coursing through your veins to make it right.

you huff, nostrils flaring in your tiny tantrum, “you’re so mean,” jutting your bottom lip out.

eddie’s eyes dart around the room, catching a few stray looks, people confused about your position or why you were practically straddling him of all people. “people are looking at us..” and the thing is, no matter how many times you could tell him that you wanted him, no matter how many times you showed him that you wanted him, he wouldn’t believe it.

“i don’t care,” you scoff, connecting your lips hastily, a new feat compared to the sly neck kisses you’d been giving prior.

it had never been about hiding for you, more so about keeping things just for you two. nobody else needed an opinion or opportunity to ruin things, that was it. but now, the longer you continued to hang out and enjoy each other’s company outside of fucking, the more he felt himself falling.

now, eddie reckons he was probably in love with you from the second you’d dragged him into that closet but now he’s pretty certain he is. it’s different now, a level of consideration there that wasn’t ever apparent before.

it had been solidified for him a couple weekends ago during a game of spin the bottle, when it had landed on you and then subsequently jason. eddie’s heart stopped beating until you swerved his mouth, landing a small peck on his cheek in place of a real kiss.

that was different.

“please can we go,” you beg, fisting the soft material of his shirt, keeping your lips lingering over his.

he clears his throat, and really, you should know him by now. you should know that an ounce of attention from you would result in a stiffy he couldn’t shake. his eyes fall to his crotch, “i can’t.. i can’t get up,” cheeks flushing a ruby red.

your eyes join his, peering down between your leg and his stomach, a grin spreading across your devilish face, “i can fix that,” tilting his chin upwards with your painted nail, “if we go home.”

his forehead knocks against yours, giving up on this nonexistent fight with you, “fine, give me.. five,” hoping he somewhat hide his indiscretion from your friend’s prying eyes.

he does eventually, get off the chair, craftily readjusting his pants as you gather your bag. robin’s head perks up, brows raised at the sight of you leaving already, “i’m gonna walk her home.. too much to drink i think..” wrapping an arm around your shoulder, guiding you through the party and out onto the street.

the front yard is littered with drunks, paying no mind to you and your unsteady feet.

you’re so loud, giggling as eddie attempts to rein you in, a tight grip on your arm while you wobble over the sidewalk.

“hey,” you pout, stopping in your tracks. fuck, he just wanted to get home, as much as he adored whatever antics you were up to, he was freezing his balls off and you’re plastered.

“what?” he replies softly because no matter how annoyed he was, he’d never take it out on you.

your eyes are hazy, glossed over and barely able to focus on him but they’re full of love, “all i want to do is kiss you,” lopsided grin growing bigger.

eddie just smiles because there are no words he could ever jumble together to reply to that. not the way you deserved anyway.

“can i?”

how could he say no?

with your eyes round and glittering in the moonlight, lips pouted perfectly.

“of course you can,” he laughs, hooking his arm around your shoulder, pausing just before your lips meet his, revelling in the moment.

you press your lips to his, a little sloppy but full of love, tender and soft. you smile as you pull back, gripping onto his leather jacket, “we can go home now,” smiling into the night.

eddie feels a little sick. he hopes to god that he’s right about this, that you feel the same way he does. all signs point to yes but how’s he to know without your confirmation?

-

he’s abruptly awoken when the bathroom door slams shut, a collection of unpleasant sounds come from the other side.

he’s not surprised you’re sick, in fact, he’d left a your trash can to the side of the bed last night, just in case.

see, eddie’s not really an early riser but he doesn’t mind being woken up this early when he’s being woken up by you. vomit or no vomit.

you emerge from the bathroom with a colossal pout and a minty breath. sliding back into bed with a small groan. “did i wake you?” you ask, nestling back into his side.

“mhm,” he hums, appreciating the warmth you bring, “i don’t mind, you okay?” he asks, sliding an arm around your shoulders.

“i am now,” smiling slightly. your hand creeps down, making him jump as your cold fingers rest on his stomach.

he watches with tired eyes, hoping this is going where he thinks it may. your hands, despite feeling frozen, are always soft, he adored the tender way in which they met his skin.

you hum, body vibrating against the side of his body, “go brush your teeth,” poking him lightly in the ribs.

“yes ma’am,” eddie practically leaps out of bed, following your orders in hopes that you were implying what he thought. scrubbing his teeth with such ferocity that the toothpaste ends up everywhere.

he’d clean it up later, he thought. too excited to jump back into bed with you to care too much.

you’re already smirking in the low light, propped up slightly by the pillows, holding the blanket open for his return, “hurry up, it’s cold.”

oh he obliges, flying to the bed in record speed, hovering above your waiting body, boyish grin plastered across his face. perhaps one day he wouldn’t almost die every time you suggested sex or flashed him that look.

that day was not today.

your lips latch onto his, hands already finding his sweatpants, delicate fingers hooking into the waistband as you tug them down. he’s already hard, hasn’t been able to program that out of his brain just yet.

eddie’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip, sliding inside and it’s this moment where he’s grateful you made him get up to brush his teeth.

your hand, still a little cold, wraps around his cock, eliciting a gasp in response, pulling him from your lips. “fuck, your hands are cold,” eddie laughs in your face, quickly forgetting the icy temperature when you start pumping your fist.

“you want me to stop?” you ask, smirking devilishly.

“fuck no,” he chuckles, burying his face in your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin. this gets you fired up, squeezing the base of his cock gently.

your head tilts back, allowing him more room to nibble and lick at your bare neck. he struggles to get your shorts down, grunting into your chest when your hips buck upwards against him.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, emerging from the curve of your neck to gaze down at you, his absolute favourite position.

you don’t reply, instead, your tongue pokes out, licking your lips in anticipation. your legs wrap around his back, pulling him in tighter. personal space was an after thought, he thinks you’d climb inside of his skin if you could.

this position is still fairly new to him, looking down at you pressed between the mattress and his body. sometimes he’d be smushed against your chest as you attacked his neck and other times it was more hasty and rushed.

but this- this time, he’s focussed on your face, lingering inches above as his hair falls down against your cheeks.

sliding between your slick folds, nudging inside as his teeth bite down onto his bottom lip, struggling to contain the moan gathering in his throat. he’d been here enough times to know how to move without your bed hitting the wall, it had become an art.

slow, steady strokes, making sure he was moving exactly the way you’d taught him. appreciating the way in which your lips parted and the soft, melodic noises that tumbled out of them.

and yeah, you guys have had sex. plenty of times in fact.

but this felt different somehow, something more.

there’s a lot of that happening lately and eddie’s still unsure about how it makes him feel or if he’s supposed to feel a certain way.

you’re in his hoodie, under his body, moaning his name. that had to mean something, right?

eddie’s hips collide with yours, groaning when your legs tighten around his waist, everything about this feels overwhelmingly intimate. your forehead pressed to his, gazing through hooded eyelids, rolling slightly with every thrust.

“hmm,” you groan, full of rasp, “just like that eds,” manicured nails digging into his shoulder blades, pinching slightly but only spurring him on.

it’s still early, the rest of your house definitely still sleeping, forcing him to swallow his moans. you’re touching yourself, arm threaded between your bodies, circling your clit.

it drives him crazy every time, he assumes that most men wouldn’t appreciate it, a lack of confidence in their abilities or whatever. but eddie loves it, loves that you can make yourself feel good too.

your eyelids flit, breathy moans at every move of his hips, he knows what this means. has learned every tell of your body, the way your mouth falls open and your mind seems to shut off.

“fuck,” you gasp, tightening your grip on his shoulders. moving against him in the final throws, the tip of his cock nestling against the sweet spot.

this is where eddie loses it a little, thrusts becoming sloppy as your fingers work at your clit. he can feel every part of you, squeezing around him and the soft pants that dance into his ear.

his forehead dips, pressed against yours as his senses overcome him, throwing him over the metaphorical edge. “uh shit,” he garbles, spurting his release into your quivering cunt.

you squeak underneath him, mouth agape as your legs shake around his waist, eyes squeezing shut as you cum. it’s fucking magical every single time, it could probably bring him back to life if it really came down to it.

“oh my god,” he breathes, brushing the hair from your forehead, still lingering above as you float down to earth.

your eyes peek open, a smile inching onto your face, once again holding onto his cheeks as you press a solitary kiss to his lips. this was his favourite part of it all, the aftermath.

it usually meant cuddles and chats about nothing. when you were your truest self. eddie wanted to live here for eternity, gazing at the stars in your eyes, happily listening to whatever ramblings you came out with.

the morning is quiet bar you both trying to catch your breath, he can feel your racing heartbeat against his chest and almost wants to say it. to admit to everything he had been feeling.

but you beat him to it. “i love you,” you beam, grinning away to yourself, seemingly unaware of what bomb you had just dropped.

eddie chokes on his spit, coughing and sputtering as he climbs off of your body. lying back on the mattress as his chest heaves. oh my god, he thinks he might be sick.

his head was already spinning, only made worse by your declaration of love. his senses are heightened, looking over at you with bewildered eyes.

“what did you just say?” begging for clarification.

really, the only possible explanation was that this was a dream and he’s about to be rudely awoken and find himself in his own bed, having none of the last six months happen.

“i said,” you smile, pulling yourself into his side, “i love you,” wriggling as you pull your shorts up, intertwining your legs as you do.

“i thought you said that,” eddie laughs deliriously, still frozen in shock. he’s in utter disbelief, just staring at your face in hopes that he’s not cruelly torn out of this moment and it is real.

you tut, pouting slightly, “do you maybe wanna say it back?”

“i do,” he rushes, “i mean, of course i do- love you, i mean,” stumbling over his words, his heart is pounding out of his chest, “i love you too, is what i’m trying to say,” cringing at his severe lack of nonchalance.

even with your extensive training and advice, he’s truly still that weird little virgin boy, still head over heels for you. that’d never change,

“good,” you twinkle, nestling back into his side, arm thrown over his stomach, “you scared me for a minute there.”

he doesn’t understand how you weren’t already well aware that he infatuated with you, he had thought it had been plenty obvious. the man near enough started drooling when you’d touch him for christ’s sake.

“i thought you knew,” shrugging slightly, “i don’t exactly hide it.”

your shoulders shake as you laugh, slightly jittery and still exuberant from your session, “how was i supposed to know you weren’t faking it?”

eddie’s brows thread together, perplexed at your assumption, “you’re the first girl i’ve ever really liked.. let alone loved, i don’t even know how to fake it.”

“shut up,” shaking your head, “you used to like that girl..” clicking your fingers together, “the one with the hair.. whatever her name was.”

“what? you mean carly?”

carly was a friend, helping him pass his marketing class. he had maybe gotten the feeling that she liked him but nothing ever came of it. she wasn’t his type and besides, he’d had his eye on someone else anyway.

“carly! yeah.. you were obsessed i swear, i used to be so pissed off.”

woah. what?

“i didn’t like her.. not like that,” he didn’t, in fact, eddie’s always had a bit of a soft spot for you in reality, “you were pissed off?” he teases, pulling you in tighter.

he felt like he could now, like everything had been established and this was it. you were together. you loved each other.

you give him an over dramatic sigh, “yes i was pissed off,” settling your head on his chest, “i thought you liked her and not me,” he can feel your eyelids flutter shut against his skin, “i’m glad you didn’t though.”

eddie laughs, moving your body as he shakes. he can’t help himself. you were pissed off at the thought of him liking someone else. you. it’s almost nonsensical.

footsteps echo through the hall, stopping outside your door alongside a chorus of whispers. you groan quietly before they pound on the door, obviously eager to collect the gossip.

“what?” you call out, not moving from your position. maybe before you would’ve sprung apart, trying to cover up the obvious but now you embraced it.

robin, nancy and vickie pour into your room, sly smiles on their faces. it’s fairly obvious what had just gone down in here. his cheeks were still blood-red, your leg thrown over his, entangled in the blanket as one.

“so,” robin smiles, pursing her lips, “you have a good night?” alluding to your very public displays of affection.

“i had a fantastic night, thank you,” you grin, refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room, eddie respected the fuck out of that.

“mm i’m sure,” robin quips, raising her brows before perching on the end of your bed, “you remember anything from last night?” she asks curiously, cocking her head to the side.

you bite down onto your lower lip before answering, “i may have been informed,” rolling your eyes slightly. the other two girls giggle in unison.

“so it’s official?” robin asks outright, not wasting any time. she’d never been one to beat around the bush, jury’s still out on whether it’s a pro or a con.

your shoulders shrug, eyes trailing to eddie, “i’d say so,” smiling knowingly.

they had no idea what had actually just occurred, ignorant to the declaration of love that had happened just moments before they burst in. he knows you’ll probably tell them the second he’s gone but for now he appreciates the secrecy of it all.

a moment only meant for the two of you.

robin grabs onto your ankle, shaking it as she roars excitedly, “i fuckin’ knew it,” beaming with a certain smugness.

your eyes roll back again, “have you got what you wanted now? can i sleep this hangover off without anymore interference?” your words are sharp but hold a tone of humour.

“yes yes, you can go back to being degenerate perverts now,” robin laughs, standing from the bed, vickie guides her girlfriend out of the room with a raise of the brows.

nancy lingers, “we’re going for breakfast in a little while, if you two wanna come,” flashing her tightlipped smile before following after robin and vickie.

the door clicks shut and eddie lets out a sly sigh of relief. they were his friends too, he just wasn’t a fan of being interrogated by them when he’s practically naked and still recovering from your confession of love.

“i’m sorry,” you apologise for their abruptness though it’s unneeded.

eddie just smiles, relishing this moment. you’re lying on his chest, his girlfriend, you love him and he loves you and that’s all there is to it.

“i love you, i really really love you.”

[silent-stories]

I'm with the band

(Eddie Munson x F!reader) reader has long hair, mention of drugs.

"There are too many people out there,” Eddie said nervously, aimlessly pacing in the backstage for the fourth time, nearly colliding with the other band members who were getting ready to go on stage.

He wasn’t wrong; the Hideout had never been this crowded, and you were the one to thank (or to blame). You had invited Robin to come see Corroded Coffin play that night, and she had called Vickie, who in turn had invited some of her friends. While chatting with Robin, Nancy and Jonathan overheard and joined in (despite Nancy not seeming thrilled about “listening to four guys scream all night”), and Jonathan had invited his quirky friend visiting from California too, who brought along more friends.

In short, friends had invited more friends, and they, in turn, had invited others, making the place more packed than it had ever been.

Eddie’s dark curls bounced on his shoulders with each step, and his self-cropped Anthrax t-shirt, cut with kitchen scissors a few days prior, revealed a sliver of his stomach.

Jeff rolled his eyes and walked away. He wasn’t ready to hear Eddie give the same speech for the fifth time in half an hour.

“Eddie, can you stop for a moment?” you got up from the old armchair where you’d been sitting since they let you into the backstage area that evening.

You grabbed a drumstick Gareth had left on the table and used it to secure your hair into something that was supposed to be a messy bun. It was a habit you’d picked up a few weeks ago, and you were pretty sure your drummer friend was starting to hate you for it.

"Eddie,” you repeated his name when you reached him, placing your hands on his arms to stop him. “It's gonna be okay.”

He let out a long sigh, wondering if you were aware that your touch alone could calm him in seconds, more effectively than hundreds of words ever could. When your hands returned to your sides, he already missed that contact.

He stared at you for a moment, his brown eyes filled with insecurity. “No,” he shook his head.

“Eds, you need to stay calm. They’ll like you, and-”

“Sweetheart, no one likes us. You’re the only person who claps every time we play here.”

“Because the other times, there wasn’t enough audience! This time will be different, trust me.”

“The last time I played in front of so many people, I was in middle school, and the whole school laughed at me. I’m not ready to experience that again.”

Eddie saw how your expression softened and worried at the same time, and he almost wished he hadn’t said it.

He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it even more than his quick pacing had already done. “God, I really need a joint right now.”

You let out a little laugh at that comment, and one corner of Eddie’s lips involuntarily lifted. The sound of your laughter always made him happier.

“No, all you need is a friend who tells you that you’ll rock it and that everything will be fine. And I’m here now, telling you that.” You stood on tiptoe to fix a stray curl.

“Trust me, please?” When you looked at him like that he couldn't help but believe you, or at least try. You always believed in him.

"Okay."

You smiled. God, you were so pretty and he had been so anxious that night that he hadn't even remembered to tell you.

"Okay?"

"Okay." He repeated, more confident this time.

Somewhere behind you you heard Jeff shout. "Five minutes and we're on stage!"

“Fuck.” Eddie sighed.

"Eddie. Eds, look at me. You have to promise me two things before you go out there. I'm serious."

Eddie remained silent, nodding slightly.

"The first is that whatever people do, think or say, you have to remember that it won't define you. I know who you are. I know what you're worth. I don't give a shit about them. A shit. Zero. Nada."

Eddie chuckled. "Second thing?"

"Second thing is, when you're famous you'll let me come on tour with you."

Eddie laughed, for real this time. Those dimples that you loved so much have appeared on his face. "You said you were serious!"

"Oh and I am! One hundred percent!"

Eddie, still laughing, placed his hand over his heart, as if swearing a solemn oath. "I promise on my honor."

"Okay, I'm happy now."

"I wouldn't go anywhere without you anyway. You're pretty much an integral part of the band now. I planned on kidnapping you in case I ever left town but you make things a lot easier now."

"Well, I guess you won't need it."

"Two minutes!" Jeff shouted.

"I think I have to go now."

You nodded, a smile still on your lips.

"C'mere." He quickly said before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest in a hug.

You inhaled his scent for a few seconds, it was smoke and cheap beer, like all the other times. For you, there was nothing better.

After a moment, you slightly pulled away but his hand was still on your back, as if he wasn't ready to let you go, and you found yourself looking into his chocolate brown eyes trying to figure out what was happening.

His gaze wasn't on your eyes though. It seemed like your mouth had caught his attention.

When you realized his lips were so close to yours that you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin, a voice interrupted the moment.

You cleared your throat as Eddie took a step back.

"My drum stick!" Gareth repeated, a bit of frustration but also amazement because of what he had just seen in his voice, moving his gaze between the two of you.

"Fuck, you're right." You murmured, pulling it out of your hair and handing it to him. You had completely forgotten about it.

Gareth looked at his friend. "Are you coming with us or you two want to get a room?"

"Yes, no, I mean. I'm coming, fuck, I mean. I'm ready. All ready. Yes. Ready."

You giggled when you saw a light shade of red on his cheeks.

"I'll be cheering for you in the front row, you know that."

"I know. Thank you sweetheart."

He looked at you one last time before following Gareth onto the stage.

You stood there for a second. Wondering what the hell just happened.

Then you left the backstage.

[steviewashere]

Words to Keep Us Moving (Chapter 1 of 6)

Rating: Mature CW: Implied/Referenced Non-Canon Character Death, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Animal Death—CANNOT EMPHASIZE THAT ONE ENOUGH, A DOG LITERALLY DIES HEED CAREFULLY Tags: Canon Divergence, Post-Season 4, Apocalypse AU, Vecna Apocalypse, Eddie Munson Lives, Steve Harrington Character Study, 5+1 Things, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Journal Entires, Amputee Steve Harrington, Disabled Steve Harrington, Worried Eddie Munson, Protective Eddie Munson, Protective Steve Harrington, Stubborn Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Getting Together, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Other Tags to be Added

This is a 5+1 fic, but only the first chapter so far. Five journal entries during the apocalypse/moments during the apocalypse, and one entry after the apocalypse. Please heed all content warnings, I am begging you.

Also on AO3 (because this is wicked long for a first chapter)

📝———————📝 The First Journal Entry: April 16th, 1986

I don’t know what I’m doing with this. I’m not much for writing. Fuck, I couldn’t even write an essay for my senior paper. Nancy had to coach me through eighty percent of it. But I’ll go insane if I don’t speak. And I’m being careful with my voice for now. Those demogorgon things are blind, but aware. They can sense the heat of our bodies, the sounds of our movement, the smell of our fear and our blood.

Many people I’ve had to rescue have ultimately faded into nothing. They scream and they cry and they shake. They get too close, they stray too far. They reek of sweat. Even though I tried to get them away, to get them back towards the safe houses, they weren’t savable. I tried, though. Believe me, please, I tried.

Hawkins may not be salvageable. I don’t think this town is meant for saving. We try anyway. There’s the safe houses, like I mentioned. One bordering the exit sign, that’s where they put the women and children. They being the feds, by the way. Didn’t make that clear, should do that by now. Anyway. There’s the safe house across from old Forest Hills; the victims from the sinkhole crevice tearing through the trailer park go there. And then the final safe house is Hawkins High.

Some of our group is between Hopper’s cabin and my house. Everybody is safe there. Eddie’s no longer in hiding, but he still sleeps down the hall from me. Max is out of the hospital, her old bed now taken up by an elderly woman; the woman will probably die—a demogorgon got her with its claws—and Max is with El. The Wheelers are with their parents in the exit sign safe house, same with Henderson and his mom, the Sinclairs are there, too, and Mrs. Hargrove. Jon and Will are here with Hopper, El, Max, and Joyce. I wish we could take Max back to her mother, but she’s under constant supervision—El believes her newfound blindness is connected to Vecna. Wayne is no longer at the high school, he’s been forcefully relocated to old Forest Hills, but he’s welcome around here any time. Robin’s with her parents at the high school; that’s where Vickie is, so that’s where she’ll be.

I haven’t seen my parents since before the earthquake. They were out of town on a business trip. Mom went with Dad because she still doesn’t trust him alone. They called me the day Dustin brought me along to find Eddie. Told me they were on their way home, were driving back from the airport. I can hear back the message on the answering machine, as long as I keep the generator up and running.

Mom told me she loves me in it.

I can’t help but think that they should’ve been back by now. I’ve checked with the soldiers on the edge, see if they saw a black Lincoln come through. Told me no. Told me they found remains of a car; a black car. I stopped checking after that. Couldn’t stomach the meaning behind that.

Our town is in ruin. I’m not alone, I have to remind myself. I’ll go out on monster hunting duty tonight, first time on my own. We’ll see how that goes.

I have to go, I can hear Eddie rousing. Time to check his wounds. Make sure he has his dose of antibiotics. See if he needs Tylenol; opioid free now…yay!

———— Steve closes the soft leather cover of his journal. He found it among the rubble of the bookstore in town. He’d been advised by Hopper to start writing because apparently his low morale “affects the monster hunting” and if he didn’t get it under control, he’d be reassigned to radio duty. Where Eddie is now.

Speaking of, Steve stands from his cramped desk and walks the short distance to the first guest bedroom on his floor. Knocks gently on the wood and enters without any other preamble.

Sitting in the spare desk is Eddie, hair ruffled and clothes messily strewn across his body. He spares Steve a glance over his shoulder. The bandage on his cheek is beginning to peel and Steve knows it’ll be a bitch to change; he always feels bad when he has to rip it off, it tugs at the raw skin and the little bit of facial hair Eddie’s still able to grow. Remembers, though, the joke Eddie had made about his situation: “Look, I’m freaking Two-Face from the comics! Think he grows half a beard, too?” He had to bite his tongue. Almost reprimanded the poor guy.

He blinks and Eddie’s still staring at him.

“How’s it goin’, Stevie?” Eddie murmurs. His voice has taken on an even deeper rasp than before. The demobats had taken a liking to his chest and the base of his throat, but Steve had been able to keep those wounds from being life ending. “You were pretty quiet in there.”

“Well, you know we have to be somewhat quiet,” Steve mock-whispers, “thought I’d use the…solitude to focus on getting in a journal entry.”

Eddie hums. “Glad you’re getting started on that. Don’t wanna be removed from surveying duty, yeah? You’d be stuck in here with dear old me. And let me tell you, sitting around and checking the stations is booorrring.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, well, this is where you remain until you’re healed.” He steps further into the bedroom, clicking the door closed softly behind him. Settles on the guest bed on the right of the desk. Roams his eyes around the walls. “I’m doing alright, though. A little nervous if I’m being honest. About going out there alone. What if I don’t hear—“

“They’re letting you go out there alone?” Eddie squawks. “They should be sending out one of those adults, not you! You’re just a kid, Steve.”

Taken aback, not one to usually be concerned about, Steve crosses his arms over his chest and scoffs.

“It’s not like I have anything else waiting back for me, right?” Steve bites. “It’s my duty and I plan on going through and taking care of said duty. And if something happens, I’ll radio back. You’ll hear me. Someone’ll come running. I’ll be fine.”

Eddie eyes him for a moment. His big, brown eyes impossibly wider. A little wet. His face is pinched, frowning. There’s a moment where he opens his mouth to protest something Steve said, hesitating strongly, but he literally bites his tongue. Croaks, “And if you don’t radio?”

“I’ll radio,” Steve insists.

“Will you? Because the last time you were on duty and that happened—“ He waves a hand at Steve’s missing left wrist. “—You didn’t say anything until you got back. You’re fucking lucky Claudia was over here with Dustin. Else you wouldn’t have any sort of nurse or doctor available to sew you back—“

“I’ll be fine,” he harshly interrupts. He sighs, drops his arms, and swallows hard. Then, he blinks and looks back, leans into Eddie’s space. Brings a tentative hand to trace the edge of his facial bandage. “Have your hands been shaking?”

“Don’t switch the conversation—“

“Have your hands been shaking?” Steve repeats firmer.

Eddie sighs through his nose. Sharp. Annoyed. “Yes, Steve, but I can do this on my own. You don’t need to—“

“Just let me change it before I go, okay? Give me a little peace of mind before I head out.” He pets his hand down to the underside of Eddie’s jaw, to the side of his neck. His pulse welcomingly slow.

Their eyes lock. Eddie’s concerned, too much for Steve’s liking.

Though, finally, “Okay,” Eddie murmurs, “but you have to promise that you’ll be careful, you’ll be safe.”

“Eddie, I already—“

“Promise, Steve. You have to keep your head on your shoulders. You have to report to us if you’re in danger. You have to come back.”

“I will,” Steve promises, whispers immediately, “I will from here on out.”

And with that, Eddie opens one of the desk drawers, pulls out a package of gauze and bandage, and offers it out for Steve to take. He leaves the room briefly to wash his hands, returning with damp fingers. It was a quick, yet intimate procedure. Peeling away the wrappers. Laying down the gauze—right after a cleaning. Taping it all down, sticking it to Eddie’s sensitive, raw skin.

When he pulls back, finished, Steve’s stomach jumps with a new level of unease.

It was done. He could go.

He has to go.

“Jacket,” Eddie murmurs, his hands holding out for Steve’s. He takes them, of course he does. Voice still low, he continues, “Don’t make the mistake I did. Stay safe.”

Steve squeezes Eddie’s hands, nods, and stands from the bed.

He looks back at Eddie before leaving the bedroom, but not without a steel ball weighing low in his stomach. There is a wildfire in Eddie’s eyes. And the beginnings of burns along Steve’s ribcage. He knows, whatever is going to happen, that his promise wasn’t just words.

It was a testament.

A confession.

He descends the staircase, grabs his jacket by the front door, zips it all the way up to the base of his neck, and leaves with his baseball bat and car keys.

———— The two way radio is heavy on his front left pocket. Sagging down the waistband of his jeans. There’s an empty chunk of his jacket sleeve that dangles down and rustles against it, he stops all movement to tie it up.

He was assigned to the scrapyard. Hopper’s orders.

Oddly enough, it was the only location in Hawkins to have very rare activity. Despite the history he shares with the place. But he knows what to do. There’s a jerry can of gasoline and a bottle of vodka in his trunk, a packet of matches in his jacket, and the weight of his splintering baseball bat in his grip. He’s silent as he walks through the bits and pieces of junk. Carefully dragging his feet over the loose soil, cautious about accidentally kicking a chunk of metal.

It’s so quiet, he can hear the wheeze of his breath. As he takes another step, standing parallel to 1984, there’s a sound that echoes through the breeze. A singular pained whimper. At first, he believes it to be a figment of his imagination. Nobody else should be out here. There’s cracks in the ground and fiery red sky oozing through the trees. A shimmer of early evening light and a plume of wind-wild smoke.

He hears it again, though.

This time, however, it’s followed by the rumble of a low growl. Unlike the chittering of a demo-creature. This sound belongs to something like a domesticated animal.

A dog, he recognizes, A dog.

Before he follows the sound, he turns back to where he discreetly parked his car: behind the concave of that rusted bus. Wriggles with the trunk until it just barely creeks above his head. Snatches up the vodka and the gasoline, tucks his baseball bat into his left armpit, and he shuffles back towards the source of the noise, the dog.

It follows out to some various, tumbleweed-esque bushes. He hides behind the nearest junk car, eyes narrowed above the hood. It’s a brown, thin-skinned, almost just bones puppy. Probably around six months or so. A mutt—some sort of lab mix. The eyes are wide, teary, dark brown, and frightened.

The dog cowers against a bush. And right in front of it is a small pack of demodogs. Three of them. Wide mouthed and snarling. There’s large globs of saliva leaking from its lower jaw, or what would be a lower jaw to a human. They’re not very big, roughly around the same size of this puppy, but they are muscular, leathery, and hungry.

He’s not sure what exactly his game plan is. But he knows he has to do something before this dog is consumed for all it is—all it isn’t.

Around him, he spots an empty, glass bottle. As quietly as he can, eyes pointed at the hard soil under his feet, he lays out his equipment. Sits down with his legs straight out in front of him. Ears alert for the dog—whimpers raising in volume, growling trailing off into an absolute nothingness. He sets the bottle upright onto the ground, squeezed together by his knees. Bites down on the twist cap of the vodka, rips it off with his teeth, and shakily pours the contents into the glass. Though, he realizes he doesn’t have a rag to put in the bottle’s opening.

Being careful once more, Steve fidgets with the tied wrist of his jacket. And begins, quietly on top of the whimpers, to tear away at the fabric. Until, finally, he’s got a scrap to stuff limply into the bottle. He wets the sleeve with a bit of the vodka. Then, he lights a singular match.

He places the wood end of the match between his lips, stands from behind the car with the bottle in his one hand, lights the jacket sleeve. And with as much force as he can, he chucks the glass at the demodogs.

It’s fast to occur. The dry bushes go up in bright orange flames. Red sky becoming one with the glow. From the barely interrupted silence, screeches and chittering and snarling erupt. The fire dances in the dog’s eyes. Demodogs melting, dropping to the side, falling silent and smoking.

Steve spots it, then. The wound on the dog’s gaunt side. Fresh blood, crusted brown stains around the edge of this bite, entire chunks of skin and muscle gone.

He realizes, when the silence surrounds him again sans the crackle of going out flames, that it was all no use. There was no point. It couldn’t be saved. He drops his arms to his sides. And watches the flames die out right in front of his eyes. The dry grass now brittle and black. The dog just as brittle, near death.

A glance around shows no other demo-creature. Hastily, he crosses to the bushels, yet slowly, he approaches the fading, cowering puppy. Crouches to be on the same level.

Clicking his tongue and snapping his fingers, he calls out. “C’mere, baby,” he coos, “c’mere, puppy.” However, it’s too weak to move. Too weak to run. So it just stares at him. Wide brown eyes and puzzled absent eyebrows. Fast, rattling breaths through its nose—ones that come from an organ deep exhaustion.

Startlingly, it reminds him of Eddie. He nearly throws up at the realization. Instead, however, he finishes his approach and settles close to the dog’s head. Gently, he lifts it into his criss-cross lap. The dog barely weighs anything between his legs. Its eyes drooping, exhausted. Its fur is greasy, and the skin dry under his good hand. But he doesn’t mind. All he does is comfort it, pet the curve of its skull, thumbs at the base of its ears, traces the wet edges of its nose. The only sound it makes is a gentle, giving-in wheeze of breath.

And as Steve runs his hand one more time over its skull, the dog passes on.

A quiet, ordinary thing. Its eyes going far. Chest caving with its last breath. Not another sound. Not another movement. An ordinary death with an ugly, unusual circumstance.

His lap pools with warm blood. It’ll congeal, stain, never rid. But he doesn’t care, for once. Instead, he lifts the dog over his shoulder, stands on trembling legs, and finds an unoccupied, untainted spot of grass. He lays the dog down into the overgrown weeds. And digs, uncoordinated and sloppy, into the oddly warm, consistently dry dirt. The soil gives way in clumps. Chunks of it getting stuck underneath his fingernails. Palm collecting the dirt into each of the fine lines of his palm.

It’s not a great hole. Only about a foot deep—too shallow. But he rolls the dog into the well he created. Closes its eyes with his one hand. And covers the body back up. Resting, now, on his dirtied knees in the aftermath of destruction. The smell of burnt flesh and dead grass filling his nostrils. Looking around at the scenery: scraps of rusted metal, yellow weeds, demo-corpses, and an ashen circle where rotting meat lays.

He’s not sure how long he sits there. How long he lays his palm over the textured mound of dirt in front of him. How long he grieves a dog he had no connection to. But when he gets up, dusk is settling in. And he figures, with no other activity and nothing else to look out for, he’ll head back.

He grabs the two way from his pocket. Switches to Eddie’s channel. Presses down on the talk button. Speaks low and nasally, “This is Steve. Report to Chief that there were three demodogs. None of them were fully grown; all small, hungry, bloodthirsty. I lit them up. Over.”

“Hear you, Steve. Report on supplies? Over.”

“Half of a bottle of vodka. Gasoline can full. I have a full pack of matches, except for one. But I think it would be a good idea if we collected empty glass bottles and rags. Over.”

The radio reads silent for a lull of two minutes.

Eddie speaks again, softly,“Come home. Over and out.”

———— His front door was already unlocked by the time Steve came through.

It should’ve startled him, really, it should’ve. Though, with the flash of that dog behind his eyelids and the odd fatigue that overcame his limbs, he barely even cared. But the lights throughout the first floor were dim. And the noise of the radio in Eddie’s room floated down the stairs like an early autumn breeze. It was almost sweet, when he eventually came across Eddie in the kitchen, but his stomach was nearing sour.

“I made dinner,” Eddie murmurs as a greeting. He’s standing at the stove, back towards Steve. “The rations that Wayne dropped off earlier had some stale bread and a jar of minced garlic. Thought I’d just make some shitty garlic bread with whatever spaghetti stuff I found in your pantry.” He looks up from the stovetop, then. His hair is sitting atop his head in a barely neat bun, but it’s enough. And he has Steve’s mom’s apron tied around him—covering a plain black t-shirt and a pair of red basketball shorts Steve had loaned him at the start of his stay. Eddie’s eyes widen when he takes Steve in, though.

There are no more words. Eddie’s mouth is open, dried up. And Steve doesn’t know if he can speak—not without tears, at least.

Finally, ever observant, Eddie gestures loosely to Steve’s clothes. “You’re sleeve…you’re pants…”

Steve has to swallow harshly. His right hand is clenched tight to his thigh, and if he still had the other one, he’s sure it would shake noticeably. But he stays rigid to the entryway. Thinking long of the dog. Of its last expression.

Of Eddie’s expression now.

He figures it odd, to be so hung up on this mutt’s face. The haunting that places itself in the small spaces between his ribs. Every single time he’s involved himself with these day-to-day nightmares, he hardly ever considered mortality. Unless it leant itself in the face of everybody else, in which he constantly and greatly considered life or death. In which he knew that it would be him under the knife; never one of the kids, never Nancy or Robin, not Eddie now, not even Jonathan. There were also several moments where he blearily considered morality—the hard set lines of its face and the ugly snarl to its lips. He always thought of himself last in these things, almost like he was repenting—if he put himself in the shoes of his younger self, starchy clothes, and a thick youth’s bible in his hands. Bad things mean bad results, he always considered.

But the dog had no common understanding of morality, let alone mortality. It probably dragged its heels when being pulled along its leash, being led somewhere it never wanted to go. It probably had a family who adored it to the moon and back. It probably was told it was good every minute of its sheltered life, fed dog bones, held close in the darkest point of evenings, and scratched soundly and contentedly between its ears.

And on top of that, he can’t stop ruminating over the striking resemblance the puppy held to Eddie’s own tired, desperate, dying face. His big button eyes and the blood across his body. The open wounds and the dried tears on his cheeks. There are two questions in his hands: Had the dog considered running away, or did it know that the demodogs was its fate? If so, did it die selflessly, or did it die to escape something greater?

He wonders if Eddie answered those questions before facing the demobats.

Eddie’s in his kitchen though, wooden spoon at his side, trembling to take a step forward.

At last, Steve croaks, “I buried a dog today.” He unfurls his fist and reaches out his shaking, dirty hand.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes.

“It—The demodogs were hunting it, Eds. I…I had to save it. I had to save the dog. I don’t know why, but I just…I had to. I set them on fire,” he explains, loose lipped and tumbling, “even when the fire died, the dog was still scared. I came close to it. And it wouldn’t run. I wanted it to run away. I wanted it to get to safety, but I noticed while the demodogs literally—“ Steve inhales, a hiccup, a gasp. “—A huge gaping bite on its left side. I could see its ribs. I could see where the blood began to dry up. So I put it in my lap. I pet it. It died.”

The spoon is settled softly on the granite counter behind Eddie. He approaches Steve slowly. Arms out, fingers spread wide. Steps into Steve’s orbit, but lays his palms on his shoulders, the trembling aching joints. Eddie’s thumbs begin working away at the tension. Before he can say anything, Steve speaks again.

“I buried it as far down as I could dig. And I just sat there, unsure of what to do.” His eyes burn and his throat stings. He shakes in his rigidness. So Eddie leads them to the dining area, settles Steve into a chair, leaves momentarily, and approaches again, now with a warm, wet rag in his hands.

Steve’s dirtied palm sits skyward in his lap. Eddie picks it up deftly, running the soft, worn side of the rag over his palm. The water probably won’t do all it needs to, the tap was apple juice colored, pipes having burst or flooded with sewer in the earthquake. They should use a ration of bottled water, but that would be a waste, Steve considers. So he lets Eddie work. Silently, gently.

He does it methodically. Working harder in the fine lines of Steve’s palm. Digging the cloth into the underside of each fingernail. Going by with another pass, crumbling the stubborn clumps. His breath deepens, sighing through his work. “I’m sorry you had to do that, Steve,” Eddie breathes. “Somebody should’ve been there—“

“The dog made me think of you,” Steve chokes out. He swallows back a pained whimper. Eddie halts all his movements and looks up startled. His wide eyes not scared, but too similar. “How you looked when…I just couldn’t leave it there to die.” And at that, Steve finally lets the tears spill over. He doesn’t make a sound, biting down on his tongue to make himself as silent as possible. But he shakes from shoulders to knees. Sipping air through his nose.

Steadfastly, Eddie maneuvers them so that Steve is burrowed deep into his chest, right ear over Eddie’s heart, nose smushed underneath his clavicle. Eddie strokes a hand down his back, wraps another around Steve’s forearm, above his absent wrist. Shushes him with whispers; the syrupy soft ones, the ones meant to soothe, but otherwise a babble of nothing. Of “You’re okay,” and “I’m okay,” and “You did okay.”

It works, eventually. Steve wrung out. Eddie shaken to his core.

They pull back from each other. The rag is run softly over the tear tracks on Steve’s face, cutting through a sheen of light dirt he didn’t know was there. Eddie murmurs, close to Steve’s tendered eyes and chewed lips, “Eat some dinner, okay? I’m going to put a call over the radio. And when I come back down, I’ll clean up and we’ll lay in your bed, alright?” Steve minutely nods and lets Eddie get him some food, mourning the touch he gave almost immediately.

And when Eddie’s upstairs, he hears, drifted from the opening of the guest room, “No more putting Steve on duty alone. That’s final. Over and out.”

The chattering static of the radio cuts out after that. Steve realizes he meant what he said. They’ll go to bed. Bodies close. Warmer, ever warmer.

But that dog will still be dead and buried.

📝———————📝 Taglist is open for this fic!! (Comment to be added <3)

[unclewaynemunson]

Remember the Wingman Wayne AU? I decided to write a sequel :D (it can be read separately tho, so this is a new part 1 of 8!) | also on ao3 now

'Robbie!'

Steve startles her by loudly drumming his hands onto the counter and she turns around to look at him.

'Why are you here? Did you forget it's your day off today?' She slams a pile of tapes on the counter, right next to his hand, making him jerk it away reflexively.

'Watch out for my hands!'

'Then stop being so annoying!'

He sighs dramatically, but ceases his incessant drumming and instead leans his elbows on the counter.

'Would you like to go on a date with the most perfect girl in the world?' he asks, sounding like he's presenting some kind of game show and about to reveal which prize she has won.

Robin wrinkles her nose. 'Why do you sound like you're scamming me?'

'I'm not scamming you!' he exclaims in an indignant tone. 'I literally have the perfect girl to set you up with, trust me!'

'And what's the catch?'

'No catch.'

'Are you absolutely one hundred percent sure about that?'

'Yes!' he calls out in an exasperated voice.

She squints her eyes at him, but decides to give him the benefit of the doubt – for now, at least.

'Alright, I'm interested. What's her name?'

'Uhh... I – can't tell you. It's a blind date.'

She squints even harder, making Steve's face almost disappear from her vision.

'You don't know her name, do you?'

'Uhh...'

'Steve.' She sighs. 'What did you do? Did you get scammed?'

'No!' He raises his hands. 'No scam, alright? I just – I forgot to ask her name.'

'Okay, so in what uncivilized gutter did you pick up this presumably perfect lesbian who doesn't even properly introduce herself to the guy who wants to set her up with what may possibly be the love of her life?'

'I haven't actually met her,' Steve admits. 'No, no, listen!' he quickly adds when Robin opens her mouth. 'Remember Eddie's uncle, Wayne? The one who set me up with the love of my life?'

Robin nods. 'Impossible to forget, you talk about him constantly when you're not talking about Eddie. It's weird and mildly creepy.'

'I can't help that the man is fucking awesome!'

God, it really is too easy to get Steve all huffy.

'Okay, so I haven't actually met this girl, but Wayne has! And he thinks she's the perfect match for you, and me and Eddie are living proof that he's always right about that shit. So you should definitely go on a date with her. She's a reporter, that's cool, right?'

'Very cool,' Robin replies blankly. 'And how much did you tell him about me? Because I never met the man, dingus, so forgive me if I'm a little skeptical about how he knows I'd be such a perfect match for this mystery nameless reporter girl.'

'He knows enough about you, alright? Can you please just trust his judgment on this one? Worst case scenario, it'll cost you a few hours of your time. Best case scenario, you'll find your true love and live happily ever after.'

That is actually an annoyingly strong argument – well, not the happily-ever-after shit, that's way over the top, but Robin does have nothing to lose here; even though she doesn’t know Eddie's uncle, she trusts the man enough to believe that he wouldn't set her up with some creepy psychopath. So she might as well go for it and see what happens. She has to admit she's curious about the girl. It's not like she has a huge range of queer women to choose from around Hawkins, so it would be rather stupid to waste this chance without even trying, right? It's been a while since she actually dated. She broke up with Vickie months ago and her lack of dates has less to do with not being ready to move on and more with the fact that she's a lesbian living in goddamn Hawkins, Indiana.

'Alright, I'm in,' she decides, causing Steve to cheer and pump his fist in the air like some gross straight dudebro.

'YES!' he yells out. 'Alright, I'll call Wayne to let him know that you're in. And you should be ready for a romantic dinner at Benny's tomorrow at 7 o'clock. I'll take your evening shift, no need to thank me.'

'A romantic dinner at Benny's?' Robin repeats in an incredulous voice. 'Are you sure I wanna meet this girl if that's peak romance for her?'

Steve excited smile drops so fast it's almost comical. 'It was Wayne's idea, okay,' he says, and it sounds slightly more defensive than necessary. 'The man lives in a trailer park, cut him some slack.'

And something about that is oddly cute – both the fact that Steve is so ready to defend Mr. Munson and the idea of this middle-aged straight man picking out Benny's Burgers as a go-to lesbian date location.

'Okay, I won't complain,' she's quick to tell Steve. 'The burgers there are impeccable.'

'That's the spirit!' Steve's slightly too intense excitement is back on again. 'Tomorrow, 7. Be there or be prepared to stay alone forever.'

'That's a bit much,' she mumbles as Steve walks out of the store, turning around at the door to shoot finger guns at her while crashing into that one Fast Times cardboard cutout that's somehow always in his way. She snickers while turning her attention back to the tapes she had been sorting, trying not to think too hard about what’ll be waiting for her tomorrow evening.

Pt2

[fortune-maiden]

Well that was quite the cliffhanger to end on!

Season 1 of El Internado is done! :D

It’s a fun show with some great characters and intriguing mystery even if it kinda throws everything and the kitchen sink at you at once and apparently takes place over a week? I’m choosing to ignore that and pretend it’s a month.

The show effectively follows three groups: the teachers, the teens, and the 5 year olds, the latter of whom are objectively the best characters and deserve the world. I love Paula & Evelyn and their friendship and innocent 5 year old view of the world, and how caring the adults around them are. Amelia really does seem like a great teacher, and just the way Jacinta and others all melt when it comes to the kids and cheering them up and going along with their games. They are so good even if Paula’s friendship with Gnome gives me many heart attacks because we know nothing about him.

But if Jacinta knows about him and isn’t hostile to him, I can believe he’s a good guy! He also saved Paula from the “Taxi Driver” and that’s the most important thing. That “Taxi” scene still haunts me.

Speaking of Jacinta, the trio of Jacinta, Maria, and Fermin is my favorite trio! I love all of their interactions and and relationships, and how much Jacinta & Fermin try to help Maria. Maria deserves the world.

Hector’s a pretty cool dude too, even if he really needs to get his personal life sorted out. Elsa’s a cheater so I’m definitely not rooting for this relationship but I do still feel a little bad for her and at the very least I don’t think she’s evil evil. Just an awful person but one who takes her job seriously. Given what I’ve heard about this show, I can’t discount that.

Pedro sucks though. No sympathy for him at all. Please run Amelia.

And Camilo................................................ I trust him as far as I can throw him right now. The teenagers should too if someone can find the brain cell among them.

And speaking of the teens... they are probably the weakest part of the show tbh. Not in terms of plot - the mystery is great and intriguing and I do like how active they are in finding answers rather than waiting for the plot to come to them. But as characters?

Marcos & Ivan are really the only ones with any depth and development, and a lot of that comes out with their interactions with more interesting characters outside of the friend group. Ivan’s two friends are just kinda there, and while it’s great the Carol and Vicky and so active in finding their missing teacher and largely moving things forward.... who are they and why should we care again?

Vicky seemed to be set up as the student with the closest relationship to Alfonso so it was weird that Carol ended up as the one most determined to solve the mystery. And while her determination is admirable... Carol herself kinda sucks.

We barely know anything about her. Why is she so obsessed with solving this mystery? What was her relationship with Alfonso? Why are her friends following her... why are they all even friends? This goes for the group in general. We get a lot of great scenes of Paula & Evelyn, and the adults and their social lives but we barely get anything for the teens. They’re a friend group because the show says they are and we never really get any fun, sweet moments between them.

I feel like the show would have been stronger if all the kids got sucked into the mystery for their own reasons like Marcos and grew closer together rather than starting off as an alleged friend group.

Also Carol’s actress is..... not good as whispering. Everyone is bad at this but I feel it’s especially bad with her. The sheer number of times a scene really looks like it should have the characters whispering between each other but instead has them talking at normal volume (or loud in Carol’s case) is laughable. How have the adults not caught on to what they’re doing yet? They talk about it out in the open! xD

Also...how is this school’s security so bad (beyond Hector refusing to hire a private firm) Kids are getting lost in the woods every night apparently - the woods that are repeatedly said to be dangerous and off-limits, yet the 5 year olds have regular field trips there, doors are never locked and the one time they are it’s used for attempted murder. And somehow Gnome is able to sneak into the school pretty regularly to see Paula and never gets caught.

Hector.... please get your school and your life in order. You may choose the order.

[demigodofhoolemere]

Alright, here’s where I come in to campaign for my best guy.

I feel like in a lot of these DW polls, characters from the modern series overwhelmingly dominate the classic characters because a lot of people who haven’t seen the classic run just vote for who they recognize. Steven, who seems to be widely well-loved among the Classic Who fandom, had a pretty darn close fight in the first round with Nardole, who I tend to see receiving some pretty mixed opinions, so I’m fairly sure it’s not just that y’all love Nardole that much (I personally like him, but that’s not the point).

If you have not watched Steven’s time on the show, please let me introduce you to a wonderful character.

Steven Taylor is a space pilot from around the 24th century. We meet him on the planet Mechanus, where he had a crash landing and has been imprisoned for two whole years by robots that have been keeping him locked up like a specimen in a zoo. This man has gone TWO YEARS with no human company, only a stuffed panda (his mascot, Hi-Fi 🐼) and the Mechonoids outside. He’s clearly been isolated far too long when we meet him, noticeably a little loopy in some moments, but has generally kept his sanity remarkably well and is absolutely thrilled to finally see fellow human beings again.

Fun fact: Steven is part of the club of a rare few characters in the show’s history who see the inside of the TARDIS before properly seeing the outside. He technically did see the exterior, but in a haze amidst a lot of chaos where he wasn’t really registering it (and promptly passed out), and was first properly aware of his surroundings when already inside — so rather than the ‘it’s bigger on the inside’ moment, he instead gets to laugh at fellow companion Vicki for trying to convince him that it’s much smaller outside.

His first outing as a traveler in the TARDIS is a fantastic story that includes a great little arc for him as he learns about the reality of time travel and also adjusts to interacting with people again. Steven is initially quite cynical about everything, not fully believing that they’ve really traveled in time, and gives the Doctor and especially Vicki a fair bit of grief over it. This includes one of the funniest moments in the show’s 60 years, imo:

Steven starts out having a hard time playing with others, getting into disagreements with Vicki and the Doctor as well as the local villagers. There’s an interesting shift over the course of the story as he has to learn to work with Vicki, trust and go along with what she and the Doctor say, and, in one of my favorite moments, humble himself and meet the villagers at their level. After having gotten into a pretty heated argument with some of them earlier, he is later faced with the leaders wishing him and Vicki well in their travels, offering kind ‘God be with you’s. Steven stops for a moment, having a very hard time saying thank you but seemingly cut to the core by their kindness and Vicki’s gentle prompting, and finally brings himself to thank them and reply with a ‘God be with you’ of his own. I consider this a defining moment for the character that informs his characterization from this point forward. It’s from this moment on that he is able to return to who he once was before his isolation, and truly work well with people again. Steven will always maintain his sarcasm and a certain level of cynicism, but they are now positive traits rather than negative ones, and at his core he is ultimately a good, humble man who cares for others.

From here on out he’s actually a wonderfully friendly man — which is one of the first things I think of him as, making his first story all the more interesting upon a rewatch because you can see even more how damaged he was at the beginning.

Steven quickly proves himself a very loyal person, willing to go the distance for his friends and often putting himself in harm’s way for them, from traveling to Troy with the intention of being captured so he could break Vicki out from inside to offering to make the last move against the Toymaker so that the Doctor and Dodo could get away. He is noble and upstanding to the last, always considering the welfare of anyone around him, including those who may not deserve it. He has a strong distaste for anything unfair, and one of my favorite traits of his is how baffled he is by inequality or prejudice of any kind. We see multiple times in the show and his audios that he just cannot fathom why anyone would make judgments based on ridiculous things like appearances. (In the audio An Ordinary Life he gets to punch a racist, it’s great).

Steven is grounded, honest, and trustworthy, caring very deeply for others. While he can come off as aggressive or argumentative, he's actually very friendly, kind, and genuine, and willing to hear other options. Where he does get argumentative, it is because he is absolutely just and has a strong sense of right and wrong, willing to butt heads with anyone including the Doctor if he feels that something is wrong. Over time he becomes more and more cautious, and by the time Dodo is traveling with them, he’s the picture of a protective older brother who will take care of his newfound little sister at all costs, especially after everything he’s lost up to that point. In case anyone doesn’t know, I won’t detail exactly what those losses are, but… oh boy. It’s a wonder this man is even standing after seeing the things he’s seen.

He seems to have a reputation for being angry and impatient, but as far as I’m concerned, the dude honestly has the patience of a saint considering everything he goes through. As if being isolated from all human contact for two years wasn’t enough, literally every single story after his first outing continues to pile on the pain in some way or another. Steven nearly dies of oxygen deprivation, nearly dies again when he’s stabbed with a sword and starts bleeding out and losing consciousness, suffers an absolutely OUTRAGEOUS amount of loss in extremely rapid succession, nearly dies again after having caught a spreading illness, gets stuck playing the Toymaker’s games under threat of becoming one of his dolls forever, and goes a whole story with people pointing guns at him all the time and also nearly gets hanged by them (and I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that half the time those guns are pointed at him, it’s to force him to sing). That’s not even close to truly covering everything else that happens within each of those stories, let alone in his audio stories, and not to mention his plain old terrible luck in more mundane ways. If anyone has a right to express frustration sometimes, it’s him, and frankly it’s incredibly entertaining when he does, but he’s honestly a lot more chill than people give him credit for. Steven takes all of this constant grief pretty well all things considered, and manages to go through even the worst of events with the ability to get back up and smile.

He has a great sense of humor (so many funny lines that I quote all the time) and is also, frankly, adorable. Steven can get flustered and awkward at times and I love him.

TLDR: Ultimately, Steven is just about the most long-suffering guy in the world, going through absolutely gutting heartaches and a truly disproportionate amount of peril and misfortune, and he still comes away a wonderful, decent human being who keeps moving forward and loves the people around him. In his final story, the people he will end up staying with define him this way: “The man we need must inspire trust. His judgments must come from his heart even more than his head.” And they were certainly right that Steven is that kind of a man.

Bonus, because I can, look at his great hair

and what is perhaps the best picture of Steven ever taken. You’re welcome.

Now everybody go vote Steven.

Round Two: Doctor Who Tournament

Click here for Tournament Table

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Music is life; Eddie Munson x reader

*Author’s note*

Well this is a first time for everything, although I’ll be honest I’ve been wanting to do a Stranger Things fanfic for awhile (like around s.2) but ever since the first episode of s.4 this man Eddie Munson has STOLEN my heart (and YES I’M STILL NUMB WITH WHAT HAPPENED). So I can speak for everyone that we NEED some Eddie fluff so I DELIVERED!!! Now there’s NO SPOILERS HERE, in fact I’d imagine this is as a PRE S.4 oneshot. Hope you all enjoy this and if there’s anymore Stranger things requests you wanna send my way, I’ve opened it up as a FANDOM TO WRITE just look at my pin post and see what character’s I’ll do.

ALSO SIDE NOTE. PLEASE LISTEN TO THE FILM SCORES I’VE LISTED. (honestly too lazy to do links plus you guys can just search them up on youtube or whatever streaming music service you use to set the mood).

Warnings: fluff, flirty Eddie, swearing.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@queen-paladin​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@peter-parkers-cullen-nerd​

__________________________________________________________

The chaos of lunchtime was the perfect time for me to escape to my music.  Now while some people would be listening to the latest pop artist, new Queen song, or for people like a certain boyfriend of mine, drown the world out with heavy metal. Me, well I prefer to listen to the great scores of my favorite movies, today’s mixtape was Raiders of the Lost Ark.

I sat with the other ‘band geeks’ as I fingered on the table each note of the main theme when sitting down beside me was my bffl Robin Buckley.

“What’s on the score box for today?”

“Raiders of the Lost Ark.” I replied pausing the song and removing my headphones.

“Ahh, your sexy go to movie.” She teased.

“Hey any chance to see Harrison Ford’s chest is a win in my books. Didn’t see enough of that in Star Wars.”

“I swear you’ve got the weirdest taste in actors.”

“Oh you’re just jealous cause a character like Indy can get a girl like Marion and you can’t. Don’t deny it! Last time I was at the video store and Steve had it playing in the background, you kept staring at her like the way you stare at Vickie.” She shushed me before tossing one of my French fries at me.  I gawked at her and threw a fry at her which made her laugh.

“Backtracking away from my failed attempts at a love life, how are things going with yours?” she asked me.

“Great. Couldn’t be better.”

“You know I still sometimes can’t believe that you and Eddie Munson are a thing.” I shrugged.

“He’s really not so bad once you get to know him. We’re both nerds, enjoy music, and are basically all types of insanity wrapped up in a sack trying to survive in this fucked up world that is high school.”

“One thing though, your music tastes are way beyond being the same thing.”

“True. He tries to get me over to the dark side but I refuse. Sorry but his metal taste in music sucks.”

“Which surprises me that you both have stayed together for a year.”

“Oh trust me Rob. We have our fights about it, not in public but they can get pretty nasty.”

“Oh by nasty you mean swapping spit with each other to try and make your points across.”

“We do not swap spit. He tries to give me hickeys.”

“Same thing.” I shoved her arm as I stuffed some fries into my mouth.

“You know, instead of hassling me about my love life, why don’t I help you with yours?”

“God I swear you’re worse than Steve.” I grinned.

“Come on songbird, you know I care about you right? Band geeks in diapers remember?”

“Yeah, yeah nightingale. Band geeks in diapers.” Since Robin and I had been besties since we were practically babies, we always called each other a type of bird (and since we both love music and been taking band since middle school together) she calls me Nightingale since they’re the most passionate singers in the bird realm, and I call her songbird cause of the way she always plays her instruments so beautifully.

“And hell I could be your wing-woman if you ever need me too. You know I could give a crap about what people say about me. They already rat on me for both being in band and for dating Eddie.”

“As much as one would appreciate that, I don’t want you to be looked at as the ‘freak of sexuality’. I’ll just…..find my own way. Besides Steve and I are hoping to combine our failed relationships together to hopefully find the right match for us. I need his confidence and he needs my perfect perception on what he wants.”

“I’m not gonna voice out on what I think on what that love child is gonna look like.” She shoved me as I chuckled. “Kidding! Kidding. Hey speaking of that lovable dingus, could you tell him to stop stalking me and Eddie on our dates?”

“Oh god, what’d he do now?” she whined.

“He came into the diner, in probably the worst disguise ever. Fake mustache and everything, even tried to pull off the worst Irish accent I’d ever heard.”

“Are you serious?”

“Robin. He told me pip-pip da-doodley-do.” She cringed but also laughed. “I swear Steve’s a sweetheart, especially after what we went through with the—you know Russians. But sometimes he can be such a—”

“Overbearing dumbass? Yeah I totally get it. He’s the same with me. But I’ll talk to him, get him to lay off before your next outing with your man.”

“Thanks Robin, I owe yah.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said with an evil, cunning grin. I shook my head at her and went back to listening to Raiders for the remainder of lunch.

Once school was over, I walked towards the isolated picnic table deep within the woods in the back of the school.  I had traded out Raiders of the Lost Ark for Empire strikes back and I fast forward the mixtape until I knew it would lay in (what I would also call mine and Eddie’s love theme) ‘Han Solo and the Princess’.

I sat along the table waiting patiently as I allowed the gently intro of the love theme take me away.  It wasn’t until the horns started playing when I felt two hands cover my eyes and my right headphone was removed.

“You really shouldn’t leave yourself vulnerable like this. You never know what kind of dangers lurk in these woods.” Eddie’s voice whispered teasingly in my ear.  I giggled and turned to face him as his hands removed themselves from my eyes.

“Oh really? And what kind of scoundrels should I be on the lookout for?”

“Scoundrel?” he said in mock offense as he took my hand in both of his gently squeezing it (much like Han did with Leia in Empire). “Scoundrel?” he repeated with a smirk. “I like the sound of that.” In timing with the music I could feel my heart fluttering hard against my chest and my breath nearly being taken away.

“Stop that.” I couldn’t help myself but say.  Thankfully Eddie and I share the same love for quoting films at each other as he said.

“Stop what?”

“Stop that. My hands are dirty.”

“My hands are dirty too, what are you afraid of?” Eddie said squeezing my hand once more, even giving it a soft massage (it felt twice as good since my last class was English and we had to write an essay for the whole class before turning it in).

“Afraid?” I asked incredulously.

“You’re trembling.” He said slowly leaning closer and closer towards me.

“I’m not trembling.” Eddie gave his infamous grin as his forehead pressed against mine, and I could feel his curls gently brush and tickle across my face.

“You like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.” He teased as his nose brushed against mine.

“I happen to like nice men.” I teased.

“I’m a nice man.” Inch by inch his lips brushed against mine until I leaned forward and kissed him right as the music reached it’s brief crescendo before decrescendo-ing to the part where 3PO basically cockblocks their moment.

Eddie reached over for my Walkman and stopped the tape but never once separated our lips until the need for air took over us both.  Our foreheads pressed together and I couldn’t help but say.

“That just made it ten times better.”

“And what song were you playing this time?”

“Our song.”

“Ahh. Han Solo and the Princess.”

“Yep. Although today was mostly Raiders but I figured I’d test this moment out with our song. See if we could make the kiss feel even more—thrilling.”

“And did it?” he said pulling me into his lap.

“Along with quoting the scene in perfect timing with the music, kissing you already feels like I’m on an all-time high. But with our song—Eddie I saw the entire galaxy.” I said wrapping my arms around his neck so that I could brush my fingers through those soft curly locks.

“God you are such a cheesy poet.” He chuckled.

“Look who’s talking Mr. ‘My heart beats faster than Gareth’s suckish drumming everytime I look at you’.” He covered my mouth with his hand.

“You know I have a reputation. If anyone hears you say that, I’ll…..”

“Be labeled as the school’s softie? You know that’s what you’ll always be to me Eddie-bear.” He lowered his head bashfully as he groaned in embarrassment.

“That nickname again.”

“Yes that nickname. Now c’mon let’s go. I’m making mac and cheese tonight.”

“With those homemade biscuits of yours?”

“Don’t I always make them with mac and cheese?” I stood up and Eddie followed right behind me like a puppy as the two of us headed for his van and he drove us to my house.

Since my parents were away on a business trip all the way in Dublin, Ireland, that left me to handle the house (which also meant free sleepovers between Eddie and I).  He always preferred coming here, even though I don’t mind going over to his uncle’s trailer.

“But in all seriousness, you have got to admit that you at least liked Metallica. If not Shout at the Devil.” He said as he stuffed the last bit of my homemade biscuit into his mouth.

“Eddie, I’m not denying anything it’s just that—there’s more to music than just heavy head bangers and lyrics being screamed so loud and rasply that you can’t understand what they’re saying.” I said going through my records of all my favorite movie soundtracks.

“Alright, alright I’ll admit doing the covers of some of those screaming metal songs is hard on my voice. But you can’t deny a good head-banger.”

“The last time I head-banged to Bohemian Rhapsody, I hit my head on the counter in Robin’s living room and ended up with 6 stitches in my head.” I said rubbing my right temple where the scar was hidden underneath my wildly, untamed hair.  

“Aww my poor baby.” He cooed as he brought me in a one arm hugged, removed my hand and replaced it with his lips.  “Guess that means no more Queen music for you.”

“Oh I still listen to them. Can’t deny they’ve basically changed the way music is. Plus the first ever band to do a music video that basically sparked MTV, fuck yeah. But in all honesty, there’s something about the pure beauty and raw emotion that program music has.”

“Program music?” he asked confused.

“That’s what my uncle calls it. You know the one who plays for the London Symphony.”

“Is that the same uncle who you say actually got to record for films like Star Wars, Superman and ET?”

“Don’t forget JAWS and Raiders.”

“Right how can I forget that? And what instrument did you say he played again?”

“The French Horn. Remember I told you he’s the one who actually plays that solo for the Binary sunset in A New Hope.”

“Oh yeah that’s right. Damn you’ve got such a metal uncle.”

“Hey Wayne’s a pretty cool dude. At least he’s kept you on the straight and narrow.”

“True. Been more of a dad to me than my old man ever was. Though I wish he would’ve been those uncles you’d allow me to have my first beer at 16. Still did it anyways but you know.”

“Edward Munson you are the devil incarnate.”

“Oh yeah?” he hummed as he smirked at me mischievously. Suddenly I felt him come up behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist and I heard him growl in my ear, “Well if I’m the Devil, you are my Lilith.” He let out a playful roar as he suddenly threw us backwards on my bed, the weight of the two of us making us slightly bounce as he kept a firmer grip around my waist.

He then buried his face into my neck and altered between gently nipping the skin, or just being straight up mean as he blew raspberries into the sensitive parts of my neck making it tickle.

“No tickling. No tickling!” I said trying to scrunch my neck to protect myself.

“Oh if it’s tickling you want,” I soon felt his fingers dig into my sides as I let out a shriek of laughter.

“Eddie plhehehease!” I screamed in laughter before he finally stopped and rolled me over till I was on my side and the two of us were facing each other.

“Never change, my beautiful, beautiful (Y/n).” he said stroking the hair out of my face.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He softly grinned before bopping my nose which made me softly giggle before he leaned in and kissed the tip of it.

“So, care to give me a…whatcha call it uhh—Program music? Yeah program music education?”

“Are you for real?”

“Well figured I’ve stuffed you with pretty much every one of my favorite metal bands, think it’s about time I learn a little about your music taste. So long as you don’t give me any of those old dudes from like the dinosaur age.”

“Eddie, Bach and Beethoven didn’t exist in the dinosaur age.”

“Well you know what I mean.”

“Darn there goes my first lesson then.” We both chuckled as he playfully ruffled my head but I got out of his grip before returning to my vinyl records and started to search for the first album I could introduce him to.

I pulled it out of the case and went over to my record player and set the record up before turning it on.

“So what’s first on the music appreciation list Ms. (L/n)?” Eddie said as he sat up on my bed.

“The first ever summer blockbuster.” The record started to spin and all was silent before the haunting two notes came up.

DUN-DUN…….DUN-DUN.

“JAWS?” he guessed.

“I’ll tell yah, first time I saw this movie, couldn’t sleep for a month and literally threw a temper tantrum begging my parents not to take me to the beach. Not to mention that besides television, this would be the spark that would launch John William’s career as a composer. And that it only took two notes to instill true terror, the like of which Freddy Krueger nor Michael Myers could never pull.” I said the last part in a haunting tone as I came up to him and sat on his lap.

As the music got faster as I spoke, I could already see the terror in Eddie’s eyes.

“Jesus……you’re already starting to scare me.”

“Good. That’s the power of music like this. Now close your eyes.” He looked at me skeptically but with a raised brow from me, he did as he was told.  “Imagine: you’re out in the middle of a large body of water. But you’re not on any boat, nor canoe, not even a wooden plank to float on. Blissfully unaware of what lurks just beneath you. But it slowly, silently gets closer….and closer….and closer until…..” when the tightening of the strings pierced my empty room I saw Eddie give a flinch.

He was seeing it!

“It has you by the leg. You feel yourself being pulled across the water. Pain and fear succumbs your very being as your screaming, begging for your life to be spared. The water around you erupting into frantic splashing as your body is being thrashed around like a ragdoll. Your screams piercing the air but there’s no one in sight to save you. Then all is still.” As the music went still I paused for dramatic effect.  “You think it’s heard your pleas and let you go. But then you feel it’s grip on you again, pulling your body once more. Your screaming resumes but you know it will only fall on deaf ears. Then with a final cry, you’re finally pulled under the water. The water now starts to still, and all is quiet.”

As the gently yet frantic sounds of the xylophone plays in the background signaling that the horrific scene had ended and all was back to normal.  Like nothing had happened.

“Jesus H Christ. Can I open my eyes now?”

“Yes you can open them.” He opened his eyes and looked straight at me.  “I should have you sub for me as DM with the way you just described that horrifying scene. And I know you haven’t seen that movie in a while to remember exactly what happened.”

“Told you. That’s the power of program music. It don’t have to match the scene word by word that it’s shown in the films. Or like with normal music how a lyric distracts the listener from the actual rhythm and melody being played. It can be erratic, moving, heartbreaking, and it’ll fit the scene of life itself.”

“Damn. You are a music philosopher.”

“Well I wouldn’t say that. My uncle just knows how to read music’s emotions and he taught me what he knows.”

“You got anything else?”

“Tons. Care to see why I think the Superman theme song is like the greatest opening to ever exist?”

“Compared to Star Wars?! Oh babe we’re gonna have another fight if you say that again.”

“You wanna debate, let’s debate. Star Wars opening theme is great, no denying that. But Superman’s theme song actually says its name.”

“When does it say that? I’ve seen that film enough times and I don’t hear anybody singing ‘Superman!’” he argued.  I stood up and turned my record player off and took the JAWS record out and began to search for my Superman tape.  I walked over to my stereo and turned it on and opened the slot and put the tape in before closing it and pressed play.

“Prepare to eat your words Munson.” I challenged as the opening started off soft.

“Not until you eat your own (L/n).” the suspense of the tuba soon began as I turned my stereo up as loud as I could and tapped along to the steady beats of the horns and strings as it began to build the suspense of Superman’s arrival.

“Okay, here it comes…..it’s coming…..is it a bird? Is it a plane? No it’s……SUPERMAN!!” right on cue the high suspense the whole orchestra went into full forte as the theme song actually said SUPERMAN

“HA! See I told you it didn’t say it!” Eddie exclaimed.

“It so did listen to it again!” I exclaimed as the orchestra repeated the superman part once again.

“You’re in denial sweetheart. I still don’t hear it.”

“God all that heavy metal has made you go deaf.”

“What was that missy!?!? I couldn’t hear yah!!” he shouted in my ear as he rubbed his own with his finger, trying to rub away the ‘deafness’. I shoved him away but he soon caught my hand then lifted me as high as he could as he spun me around.

“Eddie put me down yah big oaf!” I laughed as I exclaimed. He laughed as he continued to spin me around my entire room before falling down to my bed once again with me hovering over him.  Our laughter mixed together as the song continued to play in the background. “You are such a dork.”

“Your dork. But hey wouldn’t that count Superman a dork? He does work for the Daily Planet and wears those ugly glasses.”

“True but Christopher Reeves made them work.”

“Do I sense competition in the midst of my lady’s affections?”

“Only in a dream. But never fear good sir knight, you are the only man who has my heart.” I said as I rubbed over his heart.

“Good. Cause I don’t think I would last in a fight with Superman.” We both laughed and I said.

“I don’t think any of us could. Besides his heart belongs to Lois Lane. I could never compete with her.”

“In my opinion, you’re prettier than Lois Lane.”

“Aww Eddie you sweet-talker.” I leaned forward and captured his lips with mine right as the song came to an end.

We continued on with the Superman tape until the flying sequence came about I had to speak my mind.

“Now I both love and hate this song from the track.”

“Oh really? Why’s that?” Eddie asked as he wrapped his arm around me pulling me closer.

“Well not only because of how they shot it after he takes her into the air with the whole physics about how he holds her hand and they’re both flying together normally. But the stupid monologue Lois says during the music. It just—doesn’t fit well. In my mind, I imagined Superman holding her fairly close.”

“You mean like this?” Eddie said as he wrapped his other arm around me.

“Yes. Then we’d just—see them flying together. The music itself is beautiful on its own but her fucking monologue drones it out completely on film. For me personally, there are some scenes in film where we should just— let the music speak for itself. The fascination she already has for Superman, the closeness of their bodies pressed together. The lingering looks they share with one another as he takes her higher and higher into the sky. That’s why I’ll always pick the Binary Sunset over this song any day.”

“You’re not just saying that because your uncle has a solo in that song.”

“No. You know how we’re introduced to Luke right?” he nodded. “The Binary sunset, it—it allows us to also feel exactly what Luke feels. The longing, the desperation, the need, hope and the dream to have something far beyond our reach like the sun.”

“Damn you are really getting deep here babe. How did we ever work out?”

“We work out because you’re funny, you’re sweet, loyal to your friends, a good mentor to the present and future members of Hellfire. And you’ve got such an imagination that could only rival mine. Plus you’re the only guy whose accepted me for my own unique nerdiness. Not even the guys in band would touch me with a ten foot pole.”

“Well those band geeks are blind to see the true goddess that’s before them. All those guys they’re just doing band to get an elective credit. You—you have a truly, fiery passion for the music you play. Long to play, and may eventually play. Can you imagine if they ever did bring Lord of the rings to life? I’m sure the music is gonna need a player with as much passion as you. And I’m gonna be right there cheering you on and listening for yah.”

“Thank Eddie, it really means a lot to me.” He smiled then leaned in and kissed me softly.

“You think we can quote Star Wars all the way through just listening to the scores?” he asked me.

“You really gotta ask that?” I stood up from my bed and switched the Superman tape for A New Hope.  “One thing though, it doesn’t include the 20th Century Fox theme song.”

“Ahh the bastards!” he playfully groaned.

“So care to do the honors Ed?”

“Princess, it’d be my pleasure.” He then grabbed my own version of Brian May’s red special guitar, plugged it into my amp and turned it up as loud as he could.  I then grabbed two pencils and began the drum roll of the company’s theme song before Eddie played the horns section on the electric guitar.  Never before have I heard it be played on anything else but damn did he shred it and to use my guitar, it was pure poetry.

He unplugged my guitar and turned my amp off as we both said the title card introduction.

“A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….” I pressed play and right on cue the full forte of the Orchestra played throughout my room. “Care to do the honors Dungeon Master?”

“As you wish my fair Princess.” He said before reading out the actual credit roll all the way through in his DM style of how he narrates his campaigns for his club.  From there on, it was the two of us acting out the scenes based off the scores that played out.

We also couldn’t help ourselves with quoting the rest of the movie and right as we came up to my favorite part, I turned to my window balcony and saw that the sun was just about to set.

“Oh my god.”

“Uhh that’s not the quote that comes next babe.” Eddie said.

“No Eds look, the sun’s setting. Oh let’s pause this and you’ll see what I mean come on!” I turned to stereo towards the window and grabbed Eddie’s hand as we went out to my small little balcony and stared at the sunset together.

*Eddie’s POV*

As my girl dragged me to her makeshift balcony and the rays of the sunset landed upon her face, I could hear the sound of the flute starting off the most epic part of the song.  Then as her uncle’s solo came into play, I immediately felt this—fluttery feeling in my stomach.

This angel nay this—goddess of music that stood at my side. She—she was my everything. My wants, my hopes, my dreams. Everything I wish to do, want to do I—I want her to be there at my side.  As the orchestra rose in volume, there was this wave of—god I can’t even describe it.

All I did know was that I never once took my eyes off of (Y/n) for a second as my heart swelled and I could feel my chest constricting with whatever this emotion I was feeling.

 “….d? Ed? Eddie.” I snapped out of my trance and said.

“What? What was it?” (Y/n) only smiled and reached up to touch the corner of my eye.  It was then I felt that I actually had tears in my eyes.

“You felt it too, didn’t you.” She said it as more of a statement than a question.  I sniffled softly and nodded.

“That’s what you feel everytime?” she nodded. “God babe that…..that was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I felt—warm and…..god I can’t even describe it.”

“Music is the way of life. It’s all around us. Just like I’ve always said.” I cupped her face into my hands and asked her.

“I wanna feel it again. But this time with our song. Please sweetheart? I—I wanna feel it again, but this time as I kiss you.” God I’m sounding like such a sap right now but fuck it! This is a high I’ve never been on and I wanna feel what my girl feels every day she listens to these songs, especially how she described our kiss earlier today with our Star Wars love theme.

She placed her hands over mine and kissed my left palm before taking me back inside her room and switched out the tapes.

“Shall we quote the scene again?”

“I wanna try your theory of just letting the music speak for itself.” I answered.  She nodded and pressed rewind and waited for a couple of seconds before pressing play to see if it was our song.

“Okay let’s just let this last section of Boba Fett play out and then nothing but silence.” She said as she came up and wrapped her arms around my neck and I wrapped mine around her waist pulling her close.

Soon the gentle melody of our love theme started playing over the speakers.  As she gently brushed the hair out of my eyes I could already feel my heart racing faster than it’s ever gone before.  There was a lump in my throat but for some strange reason it felt like the good kind of lump.  Honestly I can’t explain it as beautifully as my musical goddess does, but all I can say was that I liked it.  A lot. It wasn’t a sexual pull, but a truly, deep, love connection (much like Aragorn and Arwen).

I lifted my hands to gently cup her face.  My thumbs gently stroking along where her cute dimples were hidden and I pressed my forehead against hers, our noses gently and affectionately nuzzling the other’s.  We both soon leaned in and as the music got louder our lips met and I swear to god—it was like a firework just exploded in my gut.

We separated and (Y/n) reached over and turned off the stereo as the two of us softly panted.

“Shit……” I gasped out.  

“What’s the verdict doc?” she asked.

“Best……high……ever.” I chuckled and she followed with soft laughter. “You were right. God that was—I know I always get butterflies in my stomach and my heart races every time I kiss you but with our song setting the mood…..holy shit.”

“Like I said. There’s more to music than just headbangers.”

“I’ll never question your wisdom again, my beautiful muse.” I said bringing her into yet another, more passionate kiss.  We walked right towards her bed and she collapsed once more onto it, and I immediately crawled on top of her.  “So what shall it be Princess? Want to make beautiful music of our own?”

“With most scoundrels I wouldn’t but for you, always.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” She said with a grin and a twinkle in her eye before wrapping her hand around the back of my neck and bringing me down to kiss her once more.

That’s a night I’ll never forget, I think out of all my shows I’ve performed, this one will always be my favorite.  Because it was just me, my best girl, and the two of us making music with our bodies all night long.

[leossmoonn]

can i request a stefan imagine where bonnie locks you both into a room because you guys fight to hide your feelings, and when you're inside, you both finally talk it out and then when the next day the room is unlocked everyone makes fun of you because you fell asleep on each other

yes! this is such a cute idea :))

masterlist

warnings / includes - mild language, casual sex talk, underage drinking (you all are 18 tho), fighting, kissing, ugly crying (lol)

————

“i thought he was supposed to be the smart one,” you grimaced.

“boys are often enchanted by half-naked girls,” elena stated. “yeah, but not stefan,” you said, taking a big gulp of your beer.

“well, contrary to popular belief, stefan is like other boys. he got turned at 17, he didn’t have much time to mature.”

you gave elena a ‘are you serious?’ look before turning back to the man whom you were hopelessly in love with. it shattered your heart to see him dancing with another girl.

she was wearing a belly top with a skirt you knew that not even vicki donovan would approve of. she had her back facing towards stefan, running her hands through his hair as she moved up and down on him, obviously trying to get him riled up and fuck her in the bathrooms. meanwhile, his hands were on her waist, following the movements her body made. he had a big smile on his face, winking at her as he told her dirty little nothings.

the red solo cup crushed in your hand, beer running down your arm, some getting on your jeans. you didn’t even realize until elena started to wipe your skin with napkins, taking your attention off of the vampire for a few seconds.

“you had an accident,” elena snorted. “oh,” you frowned, helping her. “oops.”

“why don’t you just go and replace her? i bet stefan then would actually get hard,” elena suggested.

“please, it’s not like he’d even notice me. i mean, look at her, she’s gorgeous.” your insecurities took over your brain, and you couldn’t help but think of how many other pretty girls stefan could have.

“please, she’s below average, and she’s had herpes two times in the last four months. i know stefan is immortal and his body heals fast and all, but no guy, supernatural or not, wants to get involved with a girl like that,” elena assured you.

“then why is he letting her use him as a stripper pole?” you frowned. “maybe to make someone jealous?” elena raised her brow, looking at you and hoping you caught onto the hint.

“like who, you?” you smirked.

“he doesn’t like me anymore! and trust me, before we even got together, he was in love with someone else. he just used me as a jealous device,” elena shrugged, taking a sip of her beer.

“ouch. who did he love instead of you?” you asked, completely clueless. “oh, it doesn’t matter, but it’s okay. i was in love with damon, anyways, so really, it was fair. and he did love me, he just wasn’t in love with me, you know?” she asked.

“yeah, i guess there is a difference,” you nodded. “yep, and stefan definitely does not like that girl, so go and talk to him! you’re his best friend, and if you pull him aside to confess your feelings for him, he definitely won’t mind,” elena nudged you.

you looked back at him, your heart racing at the thought of you actually telling him you’re in love with him, and have been for the last year and a half. you shook your head, looking down at your shoes.

“no, no, it’s too risky. what if he doesn’t like me back? i can’t risk losing your friendship over some silly little crush.”

elena rolled her eyes, setting her drink down and taking ahold of your shoulders. she looked you in the eyes, causing your own eyes to widen.

“it’s not just a “silly little crush”, okay? you are in love with him, and it’s not going to get any better for you if you just stand here and push your feelings down. and look, he likes you, too. i know you don’t believe it, but he does. in fact, he’s also in love with you. just take a chance, y/n.”

“but what if he doesn’t like me and you guys have just been rallying me up for no reason?” you frowned.

“that’s not going to happen. now, go and be with your soulmate!” she pushed you towards him.

you glanced to her and gave her a glare, but complying once you faced stefan again. you walked over to him confidently, tapping his shoulder. he immediately turned to you, a bright smile lighting his face. oh, how you loved that smile.

“hey, y/n, what’s up?”

“i wanted to talk to you,” you prompted. “okay, sure,” he nodded. he abandoned the girl, letting you lead him to a quieter part of the grill.

“so, what’s this about?” he asked.

“um, well…” you weren’t sure you could just flat-out confess, so you decided it was best to have him confess first. “do you like anyone?”

stefan’s eyes widened, a flash of fear clouding his eyes. he shifted his weight, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.

“u-um, no. why would you think that?”

your heart fell at his response, but you kept up hope. he was probably just scared because he didn’t know you liked him back, right?

“well, a little birdie told me that you liked someone. and me being your best friend and all, i thought it would be fitting for me to know. you know, i can help by getting you and her together.” you flashed him an eager smile.

“well, i don’t like anyone. and if you don’t mind, i’d like to get back to -“

“you’re really leaving me to dance with that slut?” you cocked your brow.

“n-no, well, yeah, but -“

“c’mon, stefan, i won’t judge. just tell me who you like.” you slipped your hand into his, interlocking your fingers together.

stefan’s dead heart dropped in his chest, giving him that somersault affect your touch often gave him. he looked into your eyes, seeing the desperation and pain that they held. he knew that he should tell you that it’s you, but he wasn’t 100% sure you even liked him back. like you, the thought of losing you was too risky for him to take the leap. so instead, he deflected.

“you don’t have to know everything about me! i know you’re my friend, but i have my own private life outside of our friendship. just leave me alone and let me dance with her.” he pulled his hand away from yours, the loss of warmth and comfort disappearing from you both.

you looked at him incredulously, not believing the words that came out of his mouth. you open and closed your mouth multiple times, not sure how to respond. you didn’t even know how to feel, really. you just felt your heart break for the millionth time that night.

he looked at you helplessly, guilt filling his chest as he saw the struggle you had with choosing to leave, or choosing to stay and work it out. he hoped you would choose the latter.

“you’re an asshole, stefan,” you spoke.

your words cut him like a knife.

“you’re right, you do have a personal life outside of our friendship, but you have always shared everything with me. you once told me that i’m the one that you trust the most, that you can tell anything that, that i’m your bestfriend. and-and what now? i-i’m only a friend? someone who you can’t even tell who you like? you told me that you liked elena, and i helped you with that. what is so different about this girl, huh?” you argued.

“nothing! i-i just… you just don’t need to know everything, is all.”

you looked at him good and hard, trying to decide if he was telling the truth or not. was elena wrong? did he really not like you, but like someone else?

“i don’t believe that,” you shook your head, speaking to yourself more than him.

“why not? you are never this… grueling.”

“because i… i just…” you couldn’t tell him that you really thought.

“you what? you think you know who i like? please, enlighten me,” he taunted.

you gritted your teeth, your hands balling into fists. you lifted your first up, ready to hit him, but bonnie and elena came over, restraining you.

“okay, let’s calm down, yeah?” bonnie suggested, pulling you back.

you started to cry as bonnie led you to a different part of the restaurant.

“you-you guys are wrong. he doesn’t like me,” you sobbed.

bonnie sighed. “he does, we swear. he just doesn’t know you like him.”

“are you serious! what is he, blind?” you scoffed.

“guys are pretty clueless, even immortal ones.”

“yeah, that’s what elena said,” you sniffled. “well, what do i do now? we can just resume being friends.”

bonnie pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. “here, let me show you something.”

she took your hand, leading you to the storage room. you went along with her until you saw stefan there.

“what? bonnie, what are you -?”

“have fun you two,” elena winked as bonnie closed the door.

you heard the lock click. you ran up to the door, banging on it and begging for your friends to let you out.

“hey! this isn’t funny! i’m claustrophobic, you know this!”

“no can do! work it out, you two!” bonnie shouted from the outside.

“here, let me,” stefan said.

you moved away, crossing your arms as you watched him try to kick down the door. he took ahold of the handle, pulling it off. he then tried to open the door, but it didn’t budge.

“well, good job. you’re a genius, you know that?” you remarked.

he turned to you with a glare. “as if you could do anything else.”

“well, maybe if you let me find something to unlock the lock, then there would still be a door handle!” you hissed.

“don’t blame me for trying to help!”

“well, it’s the truth! you always think you can fix things. just accept the fact that you can’t.”

“woah, when did this turn personal? if i remember correctly, you once told me that my determination was admirable. why the sudden change now?” he hummed, crossing his arms and looking at you like a smart ass.

you sighed deeply, your eyes filling with tears as you answered him.

“because you hurt me. i-i’m hurt, okay?”

he softened up immediately, his arms falling to his side, his smirk disappearing. remorse shined in his eyes as he tried to reach out to you.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

you stepped back, putting your head down. “it’s fine.”

“no, it’s not. you don’t deserve it.”

you turned your back to him, your eyes settling on the boxes full of kitchen supplies. you sniffled multiple times, your shoulders shaking as you tried to keep your weeping to a minimum.

you heard stefan sigh behind you. his feet dragged along the steel floor, his hand coming up to gently rub your back.

“please, look at me, y/n,” he whispered.

you turned to him slowly, the sorry pit in his stomach growing. you looked at him, your eyes drooping, tears lining your cheeks. your lips were swollen, your nose running. you sniffled once again, trying to calm yourself down.

stefan walked away for a few moments, bringing back a towel. you looked at him, heart fluttering as he wiped the snot that surrounded the bottom of your nose. he wiped your tears away, running the cloth carefully under your eyes to capture the remaining moisture. you watched him as he kept his eyes on yours the whole time. you felt yourself falling for him again.

he set the rag on a shelf, taking your hand and slipping his into it. you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. stefan smiled with you, looking at you sweetly.

“i’m sorry. you are my best friend. you are the person i trust the most. i will continue to tell you everything and anything. i just… i was just scared to tell you who i liked,” he explained.

you nodded, understanding his explanation. “no worries. i get it. i don’t like being interrogated either.”

“you didn’t interrogate me.”

“oh, please,” you snorted. “we both know i did.”

he shrugged with a little smile. “well, i know you mean well.”

you nodded, “i do. i really do.”

“i know, y/n, i know,” he reassured you.

you looked away from him, the tension in the room weighing on your shoulders.

“you know, i think bonnie also put a spell on the door,” you stated.

“i was thinking that, too,” he sighed.

“well, what do we do now? we’ve made up,” you asked, looking back at him.

“i don’t know. are you hungry?” he asked.

“no. i am tired, though,” you said. “wanna lay down? i can be your pillow,” he suggested.

you smiled and nodded. “yeah, sure.”

he took your hand, getting on the ground. he laid flat on his back as you put your head on his chest. your heart hammered against your ribcage as he slipped his arm around you, holding you close to him. you fisted his shirt in your hand, closing your eyes and breathing in deeply.

his scent filled your nose, making your mind foggy and muscles relax. he smelled of sandalwood, leather, and jasmine. jasmine was something most guys didn’t smell like, but he did, strangely. it was a sweet, yet musky smell. it fit him very well, and you loved it.

your heart stopped as you felt him rub your back. his fingers scratched your clothed skin softly.

“so, can i ask who you like now?” you hummed.

stefan laughed. you felt the rumbling in his chest, making you smile.

“what?” you looked up at him, batting your eyes innocently.

“why do you want to know so bad? i thought i told you i was done dating for a while,” he stated.

you looked away and back at your hands that held the material of his shirt. “just wondering. and we both know that you’d love to have a girlfriend. one that isn’t in love with your brother.”

stefan laughed again, making you smile to yourself as his chest came up and down in multiple breaths.

“i mean, yes, but i don’t want to just date someone to prove that there are people that like me and not damon.”

“i know, but… what if the girl you like likes you back?” you suggested.

stefan stopped breathing for a second, his hand that was scratching your back stopping to a halt.

“you sound so sure of that,” he said.

you shrugged, looking up at him, hoping he could read the look on your face. “it’s because i am.”

he looked at you, his eyes giving away his emotions. he looked uncertain, but you knew that he understood what you were hinting at. he just couldn’t believe it.

“i love you, stefan,” you spoke, sitting up in his lap.

stefan’s face shone brightly as his lips upturned into a smile. you could physically see all the weight lifted off his shoulders. the hot tension in the room filtered out, being replaced with a cool breeze of relief. he sat up, putting his arm back around you, reaching his hand up to cup your face. he looked deeply into your eyes, his pupils running into his emerald irises. your hands went up to his neck, your fingers entangling in his hair.

“i love you, too, y/n,” he spoke, as if he had said it a million times before.

both of your reactions were minimal, but spoke a thousand words. the words felt natural, right.

you leaned in, eyes flickering from his lips to his eyes. your chest heaved up and down in anticipation, your heart ramming itself against your ribacage. stefan was the one to close the gap.

tingles shot up your spine, goosebumps lining your skin. you pressed into him - no space was between you now. you kissed him quicker now, opening your mouth and taking initiative.

he caught on in an instant. his hand that was on your cheek was now on your neck, cradling your head closer to his. he pulled you impossibly closer to him, sparks flying between you two as your chests rubbed against each other. you pulled on his hair that was at the nape of his neck as his hands reached further below your lower back.

his tongue ran across yours deliciously. you explored his mouth, tasting the bourbon and fries he had eaten earlier. you took a shallow breath as your lungs were gasping for air. you would’ve passed out if it weren’t for him.

“did you really like that girl dancing against you?” you blurted.

stefan tilted his head, chuckling. “no, i did not. and also, that’s really the first thing you’re going say after our first kiss.”

you shrugged. “a girl’s gotta ask.”

“well, then, no, i did not. i was trying to make you jealous.”

“well, good job, because it worked,” you snorted.

“yeah. i’m sorry again for making you cry. that was unfair.”

“it’s okay. i now know that you were just being a scared jerk,” you smirked.

“yep, that’s me,” he chuckled.

you hummed contently, placing your head on his shoulder. stefan resumed rubbing your back, setting back onto the floor again. it only took a few minutes for you two to doze off. you awoke again to the sound of laughter.

you opened your eyes, confused as you saw your friends standing over you.

“man, i thought you two were going to have sex, but this is worse!” damon cackled.

you grimaced, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“shut up, damon. at least i know how to treat a girl right,” stefan muttered.

everyone but damon snickered. damom crossed his arms, glaring at his younger brother.

“i do know how to treat a girl right. right, elena?” damon asked.

“mm, i’m not so sure,” elena said with a shit-eating grin.

“okay, you all suck. i’m out!” damon walked out of the storage room, leaving only you two with elena and bonnie.

“so, did you two make up?” bonnie asked.

“yep,” you nodded. “and we are going on our first date tonight,” stefan added.

your head whipped up to him in surprise. “really?”

“yeah, if that’s okay with you.”

“oh, it’s more than okay,” you grinned.

“well, just don’t fall asleep on each other during the date,” elena smirked.

you rolled your eyes. “we aren’t rabbits like you and damon!”

“okay, and like damon, i am out!” elena exclaimed, walking out of the storage room.

“they’re children,” you rolled your eyes.

“so were you two last night, but i’m glad you made up,” bonnie said.

“thanks. us, too,” you smiled at stefan.

stefan returned the expression, leaning in and kissing you softly.

“ew, okay! i, three, am out. please don’t have sex on this dirty floor,” bonnie stated before leaving.

“wanna have sex at my house?” stefan whispered.

“buy me dinner first!” you scoffed. “what about breakfast?” stefan cocked his brow.

you pursed your lips in thought. you couldn’t help but grin.

“i think that would be lovely.”

————

Like and Reblog!

taglist form crossed off means i couldnt tag

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[cheshirebandit]

Got a request for monster prom !! How would the main love interest and the color crew (vicky etc.) Would write on their phone, texting to each other ?

Oh!!! I like this!!! I wish I knew how to do those edits where it looks like a real convo but I don't so forgive me •́ ‿ •̀, for this all I can offer you. In the future could you please split the groups? Just makes it feel less overwhelming for me, thank you bb

Color crew:

Vicky:

????? a lot, she’s confused all the time

pictures of bugs, leafs, signs on the street, she likes to share everything when shes on walks

Never understands the memes they send, ever

Amira:

Memelord

Lots of selfies of her at the gym, saying ‘missing you’

Rarely uses emojis. No one knows why

Brian:

Seen 9:25 pm 

Emojis are the entire text

Send ‘u up?’ at three am and fully expects answers from everyone

Oz:

Messages back instantly

So many heart emojis!!

Pictures of his little body buddies doing weird and funny things

Main Romances

Calculester:

Doesn’t have a phone, he is the phone, always texts back immediately

Emotes like crazy

downside it reads on his screen as he types back so be careful being spicy

Damien

Calls instead of texts you

Pretends to be a memelord, you can send him any picture, say its a meme, and he will believe you

Sends the wrong emojis for the wrong situations

Liam

Only uses instgram chat

Read Yesterday

EVERY picture he sends has a filter

Miranda

So many selfies, technically, her surfs take them technically

Heart eyes and heart emojis so so much!!

She has a bitmoji she sends a lot too

Polly

Read one week ago

‘heeeeeey wanna get fucked up?‘ When she is already very fucked up

Memes and nudes 

Scott

Texts back in a reasonable time like a good boy!

Accidental nudes, he did forget his dick was out, as the group chat, they all got it

Does not understand memes either

Vera

Her entire phone is business contacts, and one (1) trusted nail technician

But seriously, she’s all about group chats, for blackmail rings

if you waste her time with a dumb message she paypal requests you pay her ten dollars

Zoe

Texts you from five completely different apps, keeping up five wildly varied conversations

Sends you links to her fics and the fan-art she drew before she publishes them

Keysmashes every other paragraph asdjfasdfn

[ragingbookdragon]

Do You Believe In Life After Love? PT. 2

Arkhamverse!Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language and Angst

Author's Note: I have emerged victorious from my second round with the enemy known only as...The Cringe...it was a glorious battle and I FUCKIN' WON IT. Enjoy that I have now edited two previous stories to read better for y'all! -Thorne

Her cowl was discarded somewhere on the penthouse floor, but she couldn’t’ve been bothered to even care about it since most of Gotham either knew who she was now, or they strongly suggested they did. Even if they did know, they still treated her with the same respect as when she was unknown. She moved automatically to the bar as she unclipped the cape from her shoulders, letting it fall with a thud in a heap of leather as she poured herself a generous glass of bourbon. Setting it on the table, she undid her gauntlets, one coming off, and then the other.

She picked up the glass and walked around the bar towards the couch and coffee table. A flashing red light caught her eye and she looked over, seeing the landline blinking on the side table. As she swirled the amber liquor around in her glass, her fingers pressed the button on the answering machine. Her eyes turned to the heavily tinted windows, and she stared at the city below the penthouse as the machine spit out its usual tone.

“You have one new message, Friday, December 19th.” A sigh sounded through the line, followed by a soft and barely cheerful voice. “(Y/N)? It’s me, Dick…calling for…the seventh time this week.” He let out another sigh, and this time, his voice betrayed his feelings. “Look, I know it’s been hard on you since Bruce…died…but I really think it would be good for you if you got out of Gotham for a while, even if it was just coming over to Blüdhaven for a few weeks.” The line went silent, and after a moment, his voice picked up. “…I really miss you sis and I know that you’re suffering from the weight of keeping Gotham in check. Let Lucius carry it for a while and come spend Christmas with me…Look, I have to go to work now, but please think about it (Y/N). For me…and for Bruce and Alfred…they wouldn’t want you to keep all this up…so…just gimme a call back and we’ll plan something, okay? I love you sis…bye.”

The mention of her departed father and butler made her heart tighten so painfully in her chest that it seemed to stop her from breathing and (Y/N) looked down at her glass, seeing a diluted reflection she didn’t recognize staring back.

Lately, it seemed like every time she caught her reflection as Batgirl, she appeared less and less like she remembered, image darkening with every passing night she was out on the streets alone, fighting with no backup, with nobody in her ear telling her where enemies were or encouraging her for a job well done. She could tell that the woman who wore the cowl and the woman who was the cowl were starting to become one instead of two different people, much like her father appeared sometimes. And while it had been his thing when he was alive, it wasn’t her. She was somebody outside the cowl, but now? Now she didn’t know who was Batgirl and who was (Y/N) Wayne—and the divide between was only it was getting worse as it closed closer and closer to the line.

She finally remembered how to breathe and inhaled deeply, shoving it aside and looking back out the window. His image caught in her eye before she focused on the skyline, her voice firm as she said, “You know, I have to wonder…when you kill someone, do you ever get a little voice in your head that tells you it’s wrong…Arkham Knight?”

(Y/N) spun around, turning her attention to the man standing beside her coffee table, dressed in a suit that was armored similarly to his earlier one a few months back, though the colors were different, and he wore a dark jacket with white leather patches along the shoulders and arms. The helmet was different too, instead of mimicking the ears of her father’s cowl, his was simply rounded and crimson in color, though she bet that his visor input ran on the same tech her father’s did. Her eyes briefly fell to the red bat symbol painted across his chest, and for a moment, everything seemed to fade until the anger came back to her.

She clapped a hand to her chest, her voice cheerfully fake. “Oh, silly me, I forgot! You’re not going by Arkham Knight anymore! You’re going by ‘The Red Hood’!” Her voice lost the fakeness, replaced by a hard edge and she leaned back against the window, suppressing the urge to shiver from the chill, her eyes dark. “What do you want, Jason?”

He stood up straight, his head tipping upwards, and she couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew they were trained on her. “I wanted to see you.”

(Y/N) scoffed, a smile crossing her lips. “Well, you saw me. Now fuck off.”

Jason sighed. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh, so you mean you wanted to see how I was doing after you ruined mine and the lives of the people I cared about?” He said nothing, and she leaned over, finger running along the button of the answering machine. “You wanna see me, Jason? Well how about you listen to this?”

She hit play, and a message came through. “(Y/N) Wayne? This is Vicki Vale. I really would like to talk to you about what’s happened in the past few months, and with your dad—”

(Y/N) hit the next button, and another voice filled the room. “(Y/N), this is Jack Ryder. Listen, I know you’ve been hounded by reporters since it’s been revealed that your dad was Batman. I want to talk to you about—”

She hit stop, glowering back at him as she pointed to the machine. “Every. Day. Every day I get the same messages over and over and over again. (Y/N) Wayne are you Batgirl? We should talk about it! Your dad was Batman, so you must be Batgirl! How are you going to pay for all the damage and destruction your dad did all these years? How are you going to answer for what he’s done? How can we trust Wayne Enterprises anymore? What’s it like having to pick up the pieces of a broken life after your dad…after your dad…”

(Y/N) brought a hand to her face, covering her mouth. The tears ran down her cheeks, cascading over her hand, and she glared at Jason, her voice raw with emotion. “Everything that’s happened…is all your fault.”

He took a step towards her, shoulders squared as he placed a hand to his chest. “You can’t blame this all on me, (Y/N). Bruce was the one who activated the Knightfall Protocol—not me.”

Her lips wobbled as she countered hoarsely, “After Scarecrow revealed his identity because of events that you put into place.” She placed the glass on the table, spreading her arms. “So, have you gotten your revenge, Jason? Does it feel better to know that you succeeded in killing my dad? In killing Batman?”

He looked away and something wrathful inside (Y/N) snapped; she picked up the liquor glass and chucked it as hard as she could, missing him by an inch as it hit the wall. It shattered into a million shards as the amber liquid trickled down the wall, and her words came out enraged. “ANSWER ME DAMNIT!”

He met her eyes and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, hands flexing at his sides. “I didn’t mean for all this to happen,” he said, and she barked a laugh full of disbelief.

“What did you think was going to happen, Jason? Reveal who Batman was, kill my dad, and everything else was just gonna work out in the end?” She pointed to the street below. “I can’t walk ten feet out of this building without being hounded by press and reporters about everything.”

She shook her head, feet carrying her past him towards her bedroom. “You get off scot-free with anonymity and I get stuck cleaning up a giant shitstorm. Figures. You can find your way out.” She hadn’t made it a step past him when a hand shot out and curled around her bicep, pulling her back.

(Y/N) thrashed, trying to yank her arm away from his grip. “Let go of me!”

Jason’s grip tightened, and he grabbed her other arm. “No!” He leaned close to her, his voice firm. “We’re not leaving this alone anymore. We’ve been circling one another since that night, and I’m done playing games, (Y/N). We’re talking about this.”

She huffed in disbelief, staring at him. “There is nothing to talk about, Jason.” (Y/N) waved a hand between them. “What we had…it’s gone.”

“Are you sure it is? Because as much as you seem to hate me, you can’t stay away from me whenever we’re patrolling Gotham together.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Okay, firstly, I follow you to make sure you don’t kill innocent people. And secondly, I’m pretty damn sure what we had is gone. I think about punching you more than I do anything else.”

He hummed, staring down at her and she was starting to get the urge to right-hook him when that familiar smugness set in his gaze. The same smugness he used to pull with her a few years ago when they were together. A memory flashed of Robin and Batgirl arguing, her annoyed and him smug as hell.

“I don’t believe you,” he countered lightly.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you believe, Jason. The truth is we aren’t together anymore.” She started squirming again. “Now let go of me and get the hell out of my penthouse.”

He fell silent and simply stared at her before responding quietly, “Tell me you don’t love me or that you don’t need me anymore and I will.”

(Y/N) froze and her eyes went wide. “Excuse me?” Her voice was a whisper, as Jason released one of her arms, his gloved hand coming up to caress her cheek.

“You can tell me that we’re done all you want, (Y/N).” His hand left her cheek, rising to pull the jacket-hood from his head and yank the helmet off. He tossed it on the couch and Jason gazed at her, his teal eyes boring into hers. “But until I hear you tell me that you don’t love me anymore, I’m not moving from this spot.”

He held his head high, looking down at her. “So, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me anymore and I’ll go.” Jason searched her gaze. “I’ll go and I’ll never come back.”

(Y/N) stood there, the breath in her lungs frozen as they watched each other. After a moment, she lowered her head and murmured, “I don’t…I don’t…” She stopped, swallowing thickly, the tears that had swelled in her eyes threatening to run down her cheeks. “Oh, fuck it…I can’t do it.”

(Y/N) brought her hand up, covering her eyes even though the tears were already streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t tell you I don’t love you because…I still do love you.” She lowered her hand, gazing up at him. “And I never really stopped…no matter how furious I’ve been at you.” (Y/N) went slack against him, letting him wrap his arms around her. “Damn you, Jason Todd…damn you.”

His breath was hot against her ear as he chuckled lowly, tightening his grip. “I know.”

She pulled back a bit, looking at him teary eyed. “This doesn’t mean everything is okay now. I still want to beat the ever-living shit out of you.”

He huffed. “I know you do.”

Her voice turned watery. “I’m still pissed, and you’re still pissed and we’ve gotta work through that to get better.”

Jason nodded. “We will, (Y/N).” His hands cupped her cheeks, and he brushed his thumbs under her eyes, wiping the tears away. “I love you.”

(Y/N) nodded, burying her face in his chest. “I love you too.”

Do you believe in life after love?

[vickyvicarious]

Hi Vicky,

I feel like what I may ask may end up annoying BUT do you know any good metas/analyses on Phoenix Wright as a character

Since the games have his name in the title when I try to look I get every character like maya, miles, etc

- Have a Great Day and Thank you if you do have some -

Anon this is not annoying at all. I love Phoenix, and there really isn't as much meta about him as there should be! At least, not that I've seen. I didn't have a lot on hand (to be fair I don't have a lot of AA meta in general since I only started interacting with the fandom outside the kinkmeme recently, but still), so you've inspired me to go searching around a little. Several of these are just short little snippets but I think they give some good insight on Phoenix so I included them.

I would also love to read more Phoenix meta, so if anyone has some more recs, please feel free to reblog and share them!

Most of my Leverage/AA crossover convos veer into Phoenix meta a little, namely in talking about how his character would relate to those from Leverage and especially Sophie. On a more canon level there's this little bit contrasting Phoenix and Edgeworth's different kinds of intelligence, and this followup presenting evidence

Phoenix tricking Kristoph into reacting to the bloody ace

Phoenix/Iris dynamic thoughts. A little more focused on Iris but still good for Phoenix too when you consider the impact.

Phoenix has attachment issues

Depressive/seeking motivation from others Phoenix

Why didn't Phoenix prove he was set up for the false evidence?

Yanni Yogi parallels during AJ

Phoenix's anger over Edgeworth's 'death' (which I've always seen him feeling responsible for. He thought he saved Edgeworth and then just left him be, and look what happened. That could be a whole meta on its own, Phoenix feeling responsible for others)

Phoenix taking in Trucy

Ron + Desiree Delite parallels

His relationship with Apollo vs. Athena

Conflict with 'finding the truth'

Believing in vs. idealizing people, and also how emotional he is

Feenie to Phoenix to Beanix character design

this huge wrightworth essay that I keep meaning to read but haven't gotten around to yet. It looks good but I can't speak to how much of it is just about Phoenix given the ship focus overall.

I swear I've read a really good take on the whole "Phoenix didn't tell Apollo and Trucy they were related" thing that goes into his relationships and also him considering Thalassa, but I can't remember the details or find it again. I also feel like there was something about his childhood I read once that was interesting? Don't know where those are.

the significance of the class trial

this great conversation on distrust/wanting to trust. also control

There's other stuff I'm thinking of too that I don't have a specific meta rec for, like Phoenix's tendency to assume personal responsibility for stuff, how he clings to Mia's teachings and in general to people who have faith in him, his loyalty, how he almost never admits to his own hurt and puts on as much of a happy mask as Maya really, a look at him wanting to protect people but only so far sometimes, his relationships with Maya and Trucy and Pearl... I have thoughts on all of these too.

[steviewashere]

I don't want to wait until WIP Wednesday, so here's the first journal entry in my Steddie Vecna Apocalypse AU. Just so you know, the piece is a 5+1, five journal entries from during the apocalypse and one that's an epilogue. There are non-first person POV scenes following each entry. So, no, this is not a first person POV fic. <3

CW: Possible Non-Canon Character Death, Mention of Prescribed Medications

————— April 16th, 1986

I don’t know what I’m doing with this. I’m not much for writing. Fuck, I couldn’t even write an essay for my senior paper. Nancy had to coach me through eighty percent of it. But I’ll go insane if I don’t speak. And I’m being careful with my voice for now. Those demogorgon things are blind, but aware. They can sense the heat of our bodies, the sounds of our movement, the smell of our fear and our blood.

Many people I’ve had to rescue have ultimately faded into nothing. They scream and they cry and they shake. They get too close, they stray too far. They reek of sweat. Even though I tried to get them away, to get them back towards the safe houses, they weren’t savable. I tried, though. Believe me, please, I tried.

Hawkins may not be salvageable. I don’t think this town is meant for saving. We try anyway. There’s the safe houses, like I mentioned. One bordering the exit sign, that’s where they put the women and children. They being the feds, by the way. Didn’t make that clear, should do that by now. Anyway. There’s the safe house across from old Forest Hills; the victims from the sinkhole crevice tearing through the trailer park go there. And then the final safe house is Hawkins High.

Our group is between Hopper’s cabin and my house. Everybody is safe there. Eddie’s no longer in hiding, but he still sleeps down the hall from me. Max is out of the hospital, her old bed now taken up by an elderly woman; the woman will probably die—a demogorgon got her with its claws—and Max is with El. The Wheelers are with their parents in the exit sign safe house, same with Henderson and his mom, the Sinclairs are there, too, and Mrs. Hargrove. Jon and Will are here with Hopper, El, Max, and Joyce. I wish we could take Max back to her mother, but she’s under constant supervision—El believes her newfound blindness is connected to Vecna. Wayne is no longer at the high school, he’s been forcefully relocated to old Forest Hills, but he’s welcome around here any time. Robin’s with her parents at the high school; that’s where Vickie is, so that’s where she’ll be.

I haven’t seen my parents since before the earthquake. They were out of town on a business trip. Mom went with Dad because she still doesn’t trust him alone. They called me the day Dustin brought me along to find Eddie. Told me they were on their way home, were driving back from the airport. I can hear back the message on the answering machine, as long as I keep the generator up and running.

Mom told me she loves me in it.

I can't help but think that they should’ve been back by now. I’ve checked with the soldiers on the edge, see if they saw a black Lincoln come through. Told me no. Told me they found remains of a car; a black car. I stopped checking after that. Couldn’t stomach the meaning behind that.

Our town is in ruin. I’m not alone, I have to remind myself. I’ll go out on monster hunting duty tonight, first time on my own. We’ll see how that goes.

I have to go, I can hear Eddie rousing. Time to check his wounds. Make sure he has his dose of antibiotics. See if he needs Tylenol; opioid free now…yay!

————— I'm really excited to finish and publish this at some point. Let me know what y'all think <3

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ A BABY IS COMING ❜

Headcanon

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: I LOVE THE BABY ON BOARD WITH GILLY SO MUCH I WAS WONDERING IF I CAN REUQEST THE SAME HEADCANNON BUT WITH CREEPER??!!

BY @imanerdychubbyqueen

Warnings: appearance of a LGTBI character (I don't think that this needs a warning, but if you think that I need to warn it because bothers you the appearance of a LGTBI character, please, unfollow me, thank you). 🏳️‍🌈❤✨

Word count: about 1.4k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author, I found it on google.

Masterlist.

Whilst Bishop, Tranq, Taza and Riz were extremely Happy knowing that Creeper and you were expecting a baby, the guys just made jokes.

“Man, you are a fuckin child, how is supposed that you're gonna take care of a baby?”

“Did she really let you get her pregnant? Or was it a ball to the goal?”

“'Am sure cops are gonna stop you, if they see you with a baby, carnal. They will think you stole it or somethen'”.

Creeper didn't care about their opinion, but about yours.

“What do you think, ah?”

You were three months pregnant, and you were pretty excited and stressed at the same time, choosing some names, even if you didn't know yet if it was going to be a girl or a boy.

“Sorre, mama, I wasn't listening”.

“Something bothering you, papi?”

“Nah, you know… just the guys being fucking assholes”.

“Neron, you're gonna be the best dad ever and I don' need to tell you why. I just know it. You trust me, rai'?”

The gender reveal was simply amazing.

All the charters came. Your husband was erratic placing his motorbike in front of all, because the answer was inside the exhaust pipe. It was enough to start the engine and hit the gas. And he did. A blue smoke flooded the yard, between loud cheerings, hugs and kisses. Leaving away his motorcycle, Creeper ran to you, lifting you up between his arms screaming how happy he was. Actually, he didn't care about the gender, he would be this excited knowing it was a girl too.

He used to spend his free time assembling all the bedroom furniture, finding him sleeping a lot of time on the floor with the instructions on his chest.

Every night, he lied down over your belly, carefully to not hurt you, to sing him his favorite songs because the doctor said that it was good to talk to him.

He didn't care about what time it was whenever you had a craving. If he was in bed, he just jumped out of it. And if he was with the club, Chuckie was in charge of it. Everyone was delighted with the idea of having a new member.

In childbirth, he was the most supportive man on earth, holding your hand and filling your face with a bunch of gentle kisses.

And you have never seen him cry, but when the doctor gave him his baby, he was crying more than your son.

“Mama, look”. He said fascinated, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling down a little the Mayans' towel Vicki wove for him.

You were exhausted, feeling pain all over your body and about to fall asleep, doing a last effort to hold your newborn.

“He has your nose”. Creeper chuckled, leaning towards you to kiss your forehead.

The first day of Kid Garden, your husband insisted on bringing the whole crew.

“Okay, Manu, listen”. Neron squatted to his son, placing both hands on his tiny shoulder to put on well his bag. “The mission is to make more than ten friends. If you do it, papa is gonna give you a surprise tonight, deal?”

“Yeah, papa”. He nodded excitedly, before jumping into his father to hug him as strongly as he could.

“Hey, buddy”. Bishop called him, leaning next to your husband. “Don' be a casanova like your dad, ah?”

“What's tha'?”

“Obispo!” You laughed rolling your eyes, lifting up your son between your arms. “Have a good day, mi amorcito”.

“You too, mama. Are you gonna miss me?”

“Of course yes, baby. All the time. But we will pick you up in a couple hours, okay? You just… have fun, make friends and don't forget to eat your lunch”.

“Okay, mama. I love you”.

“I love you too, Manuel”.

“Bye, tíos”. Moving his tiny hand, once he was back to the floor, he ran to his new teacher to come into the school.

“Man… you two do an amazing job, I couldn't”.

“Yeah, Angel. But don't be jealous. You're our baby too”.

But the worst and, at the same time, best day of his life was when he found Manu crying for the first time.

You were standing up close to the door of his room, waiting for Creeper. You had been stalking him for almost thirty minutes, not knowing what to do, but knowing that your husband would know it.

“Hey, mama, what's up?”

“Dunno… He's just… there. Crying”.

“Okay, let's see”. Neron knocked on the door, before coming in, followed by you more worried than ever. It was breaking your heart. “Hey, buddy”.

Your son quickly sat up on his bed, cleaning his tears with the back of his hands and shaking his head. His father dragged the chair over the floor, to sit on and put you on his lap, surrounding your waist with both arms.

“Cariño, you know you can… talk with us about anything, right?” You said carefully, while Creeper placed his chin on your shoulder.

“You will not understand”.

That. That was the sentence that made you understand. Turning to your husband, you smirked at him, before getting up to sit next to your son. And you hug him like never before, kissing his cheek a lot of times until he stopped crying.

“Hey, Manu, listen. We're your parents, and your friends. We will never, ever, judge you. Unless you're gonna tell me you did something bad to an animal”. Creeper's speeches were the best. “Cause you didn't, rai'?”

He shook his head, almost smiling.

“I just… I…” Manu looked at you with his lips trembling, licking them and trying to comfort himself. “I am gay”.

Creeper traveled his gaze from his son towards you, shrugging a little, before sitting by his other side.

“So, what? Anyone told you shit about it?”

“No, no, no… I just… was scared of your reaction”. Bowing his head down, he seems too ashamed.

“I love you more now, than one minute ago. Because you're deciding to live your life as you want. And we're very proud to be your parents, buddy”. Creeper said, pointing his chest, claiming for his attention.

“Yes, baby. And never let anyone tell you what you have to do, or how you have to live your life, you hear me?” You added, while he was raising his head.

“We will always love you, exactly as you are, Manuel. Never forget it, okay?”

Everything has changed since this day. Manu left away all the pain he was feeling because of believing that you wouldn't accept him, to be the most happy boy on earth. He also told it to his tíos, and they had the same reaction. Everyone was proud of him, and supportive to the extreme.

The day that your son told you that he was going to bring his boyfriend for dinner, Creeper was more nervous than you.

“Yo! Mama! Do I look good?” He said turning around so you could see the whole outfit.

“Neron, everyth—”.

Before you could continue talking, you heard the door getting opened and closed, followed by some nervous whispers.

“Oh, shit, they're already here. Okay, mama, keep calm”.

“I'm pretty calmed, papi”. You laughed palming his chest, before going downstairs.

“Hey, mama! This is… Dani”. Your son wasn't expecting you this soon.

“Hi, Dani, welcome home”. You said with a huge and dearly smile on your lips, giving him a warmth hug. “Manu told us a lot about you. It's like if we already meet you”.

“Really? Oh, ah… Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you too”.

“Where's papa…?” He asked somewhat nervously, making you laugh.

“Your father is more edgy than you”. Whispering, you leaned towards them.

“That's not true!” He tried to say, with his voice breaking a little. “What's up, buddy?”

Neron hugged your son tightly, noticing that he seemed as if he was about to cry, before turning to Manu's boyfriend.

“I am… Daniel… Dani”.

“Finally, mate!” Creeper hugged him, palming his back pretty excited. “Yo! Yeah, I'm fuckin' nervous, sorry”.

When you were already sleeping between his arms, after the dinner and a long talk about your family and Dani's family, your husband decided to wake you up at four am.

“Hey, baby… Mama”.

“Fuck, Neron… What the hell do you want?”

“Do you think that Dani likes us?”

“Oh, fuck off, Neron! I was sleeping”.

“Yeah, yeah. But, now that you're not, what do you think?”

“I'm gonna make him don't like you, if you don't let me sleep”.

“Yo! Mama! Why would you do that?” He asked, starting to feel tense and insecure.

“Jesus Christ, papi… He likes us, a lot actually. Dani told me you're pretty cool”.

“Really? Does he think tha'? Damn…”

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @claytoncardenasbabymama @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @skyofficialxx

[skycollides]

Gilberto ‘’Gilly’’ Lopez -  Blind Date

Hey Everyone, this is actually my first Imagine. 

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for possible grammar mistakes. Please bear with me. Please feel free to criticize and hit me up with improvement tips!

Warning: low self-esteem, fluffy ending

Word count: 1115

Gilly x reader

’’Do you really think it’s a good idea?’’ you asked your best friend watching her through the mirror right in front of you.

’’Sure it is! I mean it was my idea.’’ she laughed.

’’You look absolutely beautiful and I’m sure your blind date will agree with me.’’

she said as you turned around.

’’But what i-’’ ’’No buts and no if’s! YOU deserve to be happy YOU deserve to be loved!’’ 

’’Thank you y/b/n ! I don’t know what I would do without you!’’

’’Yeah I know I’m amazing’’ she said while throwing her hair over her shoulder smiling at you.

’’I only agreed to this date because you’re my best friend and I trust you. Soo please tell me you actually know the guy you’re sending me on a date with’’ you asked her 

hopeful. She simply smiled and nodded.

’’Will you at least tell me something about him?’’

’’He is kind has a big heart and you’ve met him before that’s all I’m going to tell you.

I hope those information will ease your mind.’’

’’Yes they do. Actually now I’m more curious than nervous. Let’s go Im ready.’’

You both headed towards your best friends car.

15 minutes later you arrived at your favorite food truck. Not what you were expecting but you were kind of glad since you’re not into fancy and expensive restaurants.

’’Have fun and good luck. Oh and text me how it was.’’ she said while you got out of the car.

You made your way towards the tables in front of the truck and sat down.

You started to look around but you didn’t recognize any of the people you were seeing.

’’Hey Y/N’’ a voice behind you said. Your eyes went wide after you realized who is standing behind you. You turned around and couldn’t believe your eyes.

’’Gilly Hey’’ 

’’Y/N wow you look absolutely incredible’’ 

’’ Thank you Gilly’’ you said feeling your cheeks heating up. You couldn’t believe that y/b/n sent you on a date with her cousin but you were glad it was him and not some stranger.

’’You good?’’ he asked you while sitting down on the opposite side of the table.

’’Perfectly fine you?’’

’’Well I’m on a date with a beautiful women so I’m more than good.’’

You put your hands in front of your face, trying to hide your blush and took a deep breath.

’’Don’t get me wrong Gilly - But why are we here? I- I just don’t get it. I’m not really your type I mean I’m not like one of Vicky’s girls I-’’

’’Wow wow okay let me stop you right here darling. First of all we’re here because this is favorite food truck. You told me outside of the clubhouse do you remember? The night of Ez’s patch in party.

You and me talking under the stars the whole night.’’ the memories of that night were flooding back to your mind. You sat there for hours just talking, laughing, simply having fun.

’’Gilly’’ ’’Please don’t interrupt me I wasn’t finished yet. I don’t want one of Vicky’s girls.

I want a woman who listens to me. A woman who makes me laugh. A woman I can talk to and fully open up to without being judged. A woman who allows me to be me. 

A woman who wants me for ME not for the patch. A woman with a kind heart and a beautiful smile. That woman is YOU. You are my type sweetheart. No one else.

I’ve had a crush on you since the first time a saw you. One look into your beautiful eyes was enough and you had me hooked. And oh my god your smile - I love how your eyes light up when you smile and don’t get me started on your dimples and the crinkles by your eyes. That is likely the cutest thing I’ver ever seen’’

By now you had tears in your eyes. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

This incredibly handsome man in front of you wanted - YOU.

’’I don’t know what to say Gilly. I can’t believe it. I mean I - Gosh what are you doing to me?’’

you cried out while looking up to the sky.

’’You don’t have to say anything. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same but I just couldn’t keep this to myself anymore. I just wanted you to know how I feel. Seeing you with your Ex was hard but I was scared to say anything back then. After my cousin told me about your breakup I knew I had to step up and tell you.’’ by now Gilly was also tearing up. After seeing a tear escape his eyes you couldn’t help yourself. There was this need to hug him. So you got up and mad your way around the table between you. You sat down on his lap and hugged him while resting your head on his.

’’I feel the same way Gilly. You know seeing Vicky’s at the clubhouse all the time and me being - well me I am not as skinny as them and what can I say I felt intimidated. I just felt like I wasn’t pretty enough - not good enough for someone as handsome as you you know?!’’

Now it was out. Everything that you’ve kept to yourself for such a long time.

’’ Hey look at me’’ you moved your head and looked into his eyes.

’’I didn’t know you’ve felt that way’’ he put his right hand on your cheek and his thumb was caressing it.

’’YOU are good enough sweetheart don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.’’

He wiped away the tear that left your eye.

’’I love you Y/N! I have for a while now. I hope that doesn’t scare y-’’

before he could even finish his sentence your lips met his. Your hands made their way up to his neck and pulled him closer to you, while his hands found their way to your hips.

You were the first one to pull back to get some air.

’’Wow’’ Wow indeed’’ he laughed.

’’I love you too Gilberto’’ you smiled.

’’So will you be mine?’’

’’Mhm let me think..’’ he pinched you hip.

’’Hey!’’ you laughed ’’Yes I’d love to be yours.’’ 

You got out of his lap and held your hand out waiting for him to take it.

’’Love me feed me never leave me - since you’ve told me you loved me its now time for you feed me. Cmon its time for you to buy me some tacos’’

He couldn’t help but laugh. ’’Crazy girl’’

’’Yeah and I’m proud of it!’’ 

[lauwrite1225]

Somebody to die for.

Finan x OC; The Old Guard inspired Alternative Universe

Summary : Victoria’s life is rather simple until she has a car accident from which she ends up miraculously unscathed. A series of weird events animates her daily life, everything seemingly bringing her to a strange man. Until this very man knocks at her door.

Spotify Playlist • Masterlist

A/N : It’s Finan Friday again my dudes! I hope you all are fine! This chapter signs the REAL beginning of the story, hope you will like it ;)

Warnings : none! For once! Won’t last I fear lmaoo

Chapter 4 : I’m not calling you a liar, just don’t lie to me

Victoria wakes up suddenly, a frightened scream escaping her. She is sweaty and panting, her hands resting on her chest as she stares at the darkness surrounding her. Soon enough, the obscurity is broken when the door of her bedroom opens, letting in the light from the corridor. Finan is standing in the doorway but she can't read his expression as she sits up on her bed. 

“Are ya alright?” He asks, walking carefully towards her. 

She nods quickly, catching her breath in slow inhales and exhales again, but she's still shaking. He sits on the edge of her bed, his worried eyes studying her face and his hand rubbing her back. 

“I'm alright.” She whispers. “It was just a dream.” 

Finan suddenly stops his movement, making her look at him, his eyebrows furrowed.  “D'ya still have dreams?”

“After I met you it stopped.” She explains, rubbing her face and then letting her hands slide in her hair. “But I was back in the forest, where you died. You were still here, but I was staring at that young monk.” Finan's fingers tense against the fabric of her shirt, but she doesn't pay attention to it. “It was just like for you. I felt him die.” 

Victoria sighs, confused and still shocked. Finan's palm leaves her back and she turns her head to him. “Is it the first time ya've been dreamin' of him?”

She shakes her head. “No… No it isn't.” She stands up, walking to her desk to search for a paper. She feels Finan's gaze on her before she hears him walking behind her. “When I started to dream about you, I drew you.” She explains, pointing at a portrait of Finan. He takes it delicately while she keeps looking for the others. “Here!” 

She grabs her drawing of the young monk and hands it to Finan. His face falls and he mutters something inaudible.

“I think I've seen him through your memories.” She continues, ignoring the way he retreats, his eyes still fixed on the paper, until his calves hit her bed and he sits on it. “Do you know him?” She asks, crouching in front of him to try to meet his eyes.

Finan's jaw clenches and she squeezes his knee, calling him softly, but he is desperately captivated by the young man from her dreams. His reaction however is enough for her to understand that he isn't a stranger to him.

“Finan, if I've been dreaming of him, maybe that means he isn't dead. Maybe he is like us.” She says, a hopeful and reassuring smile growing on her lips. 

She thought the news would have pleased him, especially after being lonely for a millennium. And it seems that this monk is someone he used to know, one more reason for Victoria to think that he should be happy. But there's not even the shadow of a smile on his face. Instead, he exhales slowly, putting the drawing beside him onto the blanket.

“I know.”

Vicky blinks, confused. “What do you mean, you know?” 

“I know him and I know he is alive.” He says emotionless, avoiding her gaze. 

She stands on her feet, her eyes wide open. She can't believe he has been lying to her and it's a strange feeling that boils in her chest, made of confusion, anger and betrayal. Finan looks up to her and is about to speak but she slaps him across the face. She's as surprised as he is about her action but she can't find the will to apologize while he rubs his cheek.

“You lied to me!” She shouts at him, her voice breaking in disbelief. “You said we were the only ones! You said you've been alone for all this time.”

“It's more complicated than ya think.” He grumbles.

Victoria scoffs. “It's no reason to lie to me! I trusted you!” Finan's jaw twitches but he says nothing, which upsets her even more. But she tries to calm down, wanting to know the truth. “How many are we?”

He hesitates, his fingers drumming on his thigh. “With ya, five.” 

“Fucking five!” She rolls her eyes and walks to her desk to take her two last drawings, handing them to the Irishman. His face darkens even more and she notices how hardly he swallows as he takes in the two men. “Is it them?” 

He nods, and even though she can see the emotions in his eyes, the way tears are threatening to roll on his cheeks, she can only feel anger. She pinches the bridge of her nose, walking in circles around her bedroom. “I can explain ya.” Finan eventually whispers, making her halt.

“I don’t want to hear your explanations.” She says sharply and he stares at her with as much surprise as when she slapped him. She sighs, rubbing her eyes now. “Just… Just leave.” However, Finan doesn’t leave, still fixated on her. “Fucking leave!” She shouts and he finally stands up. 

It’s only when she hears the door of her flat closing that she allows herself to fall on her bed. She feels so betrayed, even though she knows him for a short time, she has accepted that he would be the only forever she would ever know. The only constant when all the people she knows will disappear one by one. But everything was a lie. Well at least one part, but Victoria is blinded by anger. However, she does regret kicking him out of her flat as a hundred questions are rising in her mind and only he could answer them.

She feels that way for the rest of the week, having a thousand questions about the three other immortals, but too proud to accept Finan's excuses and ask him about them. Finan, on the other hand, does try to talk to her, sending her texts and calling her. And she just ignores him.

“Why don't you answer?” Rebecca asks her when they are taking their lunch break together in a small park, Vicky having declined the Irishman's call with a long sigh. 

“It’s nothing important.” She replies before taking a mouthful of her salad. “Is it still okay for dinner on saturday?”

Becca nods. “Yes, I’ll drive you if you want.”

“Oh, that would be great.” She smiles, grabbing her bottle of water.

“When are you planning on getting a new car, by the way?” Rebecca asks her. 

Vicky chokes with her water and coughs a little. “Hum yeah… Soon? I guess? I've got to see.”

Her friend narrows her eyes while Victoria averts hers. “You're really weird these days, Vicky.” She says with a more serious tone.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know, you're always busy, and when you dare spend time with me, it seems like you'd rather be somewhere else.” She explains, resting her chin on her palm. And suddenly, a mischievous smile spreads on her lips. “Or someone else.” 

Vicky rolls her eyes, Rebecca definitely won't let go of that. She should have known better that after a week of not mentioning it she would return to the attack. “There’s no one, Becca.”

“Sure.” She smirks, pretending to look at something further in the park. “Well, when there will be someone, I would love to hear about that someone.”

“You’ll be the first to know.” Vicky grins exaggeratedly. 

Saturday comes earlier than she expected, and for the last two days, Finan stopped texting her. She can’t tell if she’s happy about it or not, she may still be angry at him, he is the only one able to answer her questions, and especially those about the three other men. So as she drives Rebecca’s car towards her parents’ house she makes a note to herself that she’ll have to text him tomorrow. But in fact she won’t have to do it because her phone rings, and she barely has the time to recognize Finan’s number until Rebecca grabs it.

“Oh my god, no Becca, don’t answer!” She says but her friend just wiggles her eyebrows and presses on the green button. 

“Hello?” She smirks innocently while Victoria is mouthing her insults. She can barely hear Finan’s voice through the phone. “Oh, no Vicky is driving right now, she can’t answer. But she’ll be very glad to see you later, I’m sure.” She grins at her, Vicky giving her a threatening glare. “She’ll be at home at 10.”

She then hangs up, visibly satisfied by her move but Victoria definitely doesn’t have the same opinion. “Why the hell did you do that? It could have been anyone else!” She shouts, raising a hand toward her phone in an annoyed fashion.

Rebecca simply chuckles, looking at the road again. “I recognized the number, you’ve been ignoring all his calls.”

“Indeed, and maybe there’s a reason for that!” She grumbles, trying to remain focused on her driving. 

“What’s that reason?” She asks curiously, something she maybe should have asked before.

Vicky rolls her eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“So, it’s the guy you’ve been seeing for the past weeks?”  She tilts her head.

“Christ, you’re really obsessed Becca.” She sighs, glancing at her quickly only to see her mischievous smile. 

When they finally arrive at her parents’ house Vicky is happy to notice her brother’s car while Rebecca’s face falls. The blond grins widely, she’ll have her revenge tonight after all. Since childhood, Rebecca has always had a thing for her older brother, Charles, and since she knew it, Victoria loves to tease her with that. As they walk to the front door, her best friend harasses her with questions about whether or not she knew Charles was here, and she just shrugs. And of course, it has to be him that opens the door and Rebecca can’t look more uncomfortable than when he leans to kiss her cheek after hugging Vicky. 

Charles is two years older than Victoria, and like she likes to call him, the intelligent one, while she is the weird one. For two years he’s been studying in Edinburgh and coming back home only occasionally, and usually without a warning. Obviously, with both Rebecca and Charles at home for dinner Vicky is far from being the center of the discussion, which doesn’t displease her as it gives her the opportunity to slip away to the kitchen when she receives a text from Finan. She can’t help but smile at his message saying that he suspects her not being consensual about their meeting later and that if she wants, they can cancel. Vicky hesitates a moment before answering. Maybe she can still be upset at him and see him to have answers. She’s yearning to know what made him lie to her, and who those men are and if maybe she could meet them too. So she texts back that they still should meet tonight anyway.

“Holy shit, the parents won’t stop with their questions.” Charles complains as he enters the kitchen with a pile of plates. 

Victoria slides her phone in her pocket and grins at him while opening the dishwasher. “That’s the problem when you’re the intelligent one.”

He laughs, his golden locks shaking. He puts the plates in the machine and leans against the counter once it’s closed. “Rebecca hasn’t changed a bit.” He says softly, with a shy smile.

Victoria raises an eyebrow at her brother, wondering what he truly meant by this comment but her mother shouts at them to bring the dessert before she can ask. During the whole rest of the dinner she keeps staring between her brother and best friend, trying to catch something that would betray him, but Charles is clearly better than Becca at hiding feelings. This new distraction makes her forget all about the past strange days she has been through, and she feels like a teenage girl desperate to learn every gossip around. But when dinner ends it makes her awkwardly sad, Finan’s warning about the fact that one day she’ll have to leave everything behind coming back to her mind. So, as if she’s just learned the date of her death, which ironically could never happen in fact, she decides to enjoy every moment with her family and close friends to have no regrets. 

That’s how she ends up talking of their future summer holidays with Rebecca in the car while she drives back to London. She checks destinations on her phone, both of them debating on which is better between Greece and Sicilia. Time goes quicker and soon enough Rebecca stops in front of her building with a teasing grin. 

“Have a good night.” She winks.

“Fuck off.” She replies after pulling her tongue out and leaving the car. 

She looks around until she finds Finan leaning against a wall, as usual, his hood covering his face. She steps toward him and he straightens, an apologetic smile shadowing on his lips. Before he could say a word, Vicky speaks. 

“I’m still mad at you.” She declares crossing her arms over her chest.

“It has the merit of bein’ clear.” He tilts his head, his mouth forming a straight line. 

She ignores his remark and continues. “But I still have many questions. The first being why you lied to me?”

Even in the darkness of the night, just a few lampposts lighting the area, she can see how his eyes suddenly seem lost in what she supposes are memories of long gone days. “It’s a complicated story.”

“As if there’s anything simple with you?” She wryly asks and he chuckles while nodding.

“Right.” He sinks his hands in his pockets and briefly looks up, his gaze hovering over the window of her flat. “Maybe I could explain ya inside?”

“Yeah, I’m freezing.” She admits before walking to her building’s door, Finan following her. 

They climb the stairs quickly, glad to feel the warmth of the inside. She searches her keys in her pocket when they reach her floor but when she stretches her arm out to open the door and push the key into the lock something is wrong.

Noticing her hesitance, Finan steps behind her, leaning slightly above her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“The door is open.” She says and then shakes her head. “I must have forgotten to lock it correctly.” 

She ignores Finan’s furrowed eyebrows as he looks at her and pushes the door open. She steps in her flat, and she has an unpleasant feeling of a stanger’s presence growing in her chest. She first thinks she’s being paranoid, but when she reaches her kitchen and finds herself face to face with a man pointing a gun at her she realizes she wasn’t.

A/N: Don’t kill me for this end :(((

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