#so yeah there's so much more to this movie but what has arrested me is just this one area of detail lol

[xcziel]

i don't think i can watch the substance just because horror movies are *really* not for me

but i am fascinated by the styling of sue - the incredible 80s-ness of it

from the contrasting dayglow legwarmer-esque socks, to the very obvious 'fun!' makeup, the aquanet-sprayed hair, the poufy baby blue dream-barbie "gown", even to the cut of that iconic leotard

and contrasted with elizabeth's more modern - as of ten years ago - look with the 'natural' or 'classic' makeup and hair: shades of the gwyneth paltrow-style health guru

like i've only seen gifs and photos but sometimes the details are even more obvious - the way sue's front teeth are whitened but when she smiles big you can see the rest of her teeth are yellowed like

that is so obvious it's absolutely on purpose but what is it? it looks normal to me because in the 80s they hadn't hit on 'high def' beauty yet

very likely that's what ekizabeth's teeth looked like back when she started out - isn't sue supposed to be 'better'? or is it purely just 'younger'?

i've really never seen a recent movie get the tiny imperfections of an 80s styling so right before - down to sue's slightly off lipstick application that only someone that young and pretty could get away with

it's amazing and so very clearly directed by a woman

(and also i may be projecting but i feel like demi moore probably had input into some of the detail - they have that vibe of someone who had *been there*)

[alotofpockets]

When your heart stops beating | Part 2 | Leah Williamson x Lioness!Reader

Where you go down on the pitch and go into cardiac arrest

Warnings: previous cardiac arrest, medical talk, short mention of ptsd A/n: thank you to the woso writers fanfic club for your ideas on this one & @dyke-medic for your advice on the medical aspect of the recovery!

Read part 1 here

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k

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As a person who is generally very active, always on their feet, and doing one thing or another, bedrest has been hard for you. You knew it was what your body needed to rest, so you listened to the doctor’s advice, still it was a struggle to not just slip out of bed and go on small adventures inside of your home.

Leah had been absolutely amazing. Without a second thought she had called Sarina to tell her that she was pulling out of camp to take care of you. Sarina had completely understood, she had been there on the pitch when it happened, and was just glad to still have you and that Leah was there to take care of you.

Your girlfriend also knew how much of a struggle bedrest for you would be, so she had been distracting you with all kinds of light activity things to pass the time. You had started with movies like on the day that you came back from the hospital, but Leah quickly realised that your brain needed more stimulation than watching a movie, to get through this bedrest. 

So, while you were sleeping, she got her mum to help her get a few things to the house. Within an hour, Amanda had been at the door with a few puzzles, two lego sets you had been wanting, some canvasses and an array of painting supplies. 

“How is she doing?” Amanda asked when Leah handed her a cup of tea and sat down on the couch with her mom. “Other than struggling to stay put, I think she’s doing fine. She hasn’t complained about any pain, though I know she has to be in some. The doctors said her chest can feel sore for up to a month from the CPR.” Amanda didn’t miss the way her daughter’s eyes turned glossy for a second.

“And how are you holding up, sweetheart?” Her mom’s concerned voice got to her. So, when she looked up to her mom, tears welled in her eyes. “I just keep seeing her down on the field and-” She had been trying to stay strong through everything for you, but now that it was just her and her mom, she broke down. Amanda was quick to pull Leah into her. “Oh baby, I know that must have been so scary. It’s okay, let it all out.”

After Leah had shared all her troubles with her mom, and cried all the tears she had been holding back, she heard something behind her. “What are you doing out of bed?” Her eyes widen when she sees you standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Baby, you shouldn’t be walking the stairs all on your own.” She rushed to your side to stabilise you. “Love, I’m allowed to do light activity if I feel good enough, which I do. So, really it’s fine.” 

Amanda saw by her daughter’s body language that everything was moving too fast for her, so she stepped in. “Sweetheart, why don’t you take a shower? I’ll keep y/n company in the meantime.” Leah sighs reluctantly. “Fine,” She turned to you next, “but you, you will sit down while doing light activities.” You knew she was just worried about you and that she meant well. “Alright love, I will. Now go take a shower, I’ll be right here until you come back, I promise.” You sat down at the kitchen table. 

“I know it might seem like she’s being too overprotective, but our girl means well.” You smile when Amanda puts a sandwich down in front of you. “Yeah, I know she means well. I was a mess after seeing her do her ACL, so I can only imagine what it’s like for her, you know?” Amanda nods, “Yeah, maybe you two should stay away from injuries for the rest of your careers.” Her joke makes you chuckle, “Trust me, I am not planning to do anything like this ever again.”

When Leah gets back down she watches from the door frame as you’re laughing with her mom, at the dining table where you had promised to stay put, now with a puzzle in front of you on the table. She knew you were in good hands with her mom, still she worried that something would happen when she wasn’t there and she wouldn’t be able to do anything.

A big part of the afternoon was spent finishing the puzzle with the two Williamson women. For the first time since you left the hospital you had felt normal. Leah also noticed that you were way more relaxed like how she had thought something more interactive would do. 

Leah saw you physically getting stronger again, and it was helping ease her worries little by little. Today was the second full day at home, and you were ready to get some fresh air. It took some convincing for Leah to be okay with you going on a walk, but with her hand tightly wrapped around your hand, you were finally outside again. The fresh air did wonders to your mood, and having Leah with you was always an added bonus.

Though the walk was nice, you were exhausted after. This time it was Leah who had to do some convincing. It didn’t take much though, to get you to lay down and take a nap. She laid with you, and let you fall asleep in her arms.

After a good nap, you felt much better again, and Leah had lined up another activity. While she intended these for your recovery, she found herself enjoying them a lot. It wasn’t often when you had the time to do stuff like this during the football season. With both of you being starters for Arsenal and the Lionesses, your schedules were rather full, and when there was some free space, you were often found hanging out with friends and family. While this time stemmed from a bad situation, you made the best of it and enjoyed the time you got to spend together.

You were putting the finishing touches on your painting while Leah was staring at you lovingly. “Stop, you’re distracting me!” You chuckled. “Hm, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You rolled your eyes in a joking manner, while you got your painting done. Leah had seen a few TikTok videos where couples would paint each other and then revealed them to each other at the end. 

“Please don’t be mad.” You looked over your canvas and to say it kindly, you were not artistically inclined enough to make your girlfriend look as beautiful as she was. “Oh, now I am very intrigued.” You showed off your masterpiece first. Leah tried to hold back her laughter, but failed miserably. “How does that look like me?” She said between tears. “Ehm, a blonde with Gunner earrings, there is no one else it could be.” You both had a laugh before it was Leah’s turn to show off her painting. “Oh my god, what are you complaining about, that doesn’t look any more like me than my painting looks like you!” 

You had also started on building the lego sets together, but you decided to do a couple pages a day to make the activity last a bit longer.

Over the next couple of days, you were able to walk further and further again. You wanted to try running again, but Leah managed to talk you down from that. “Let’s wait for the physios to be there, shall we?” You knew she was right, but you just wanted to get back out there. 

Another activity you had picked up was cooking together. Everyone knew that Leah was no chef and that you were a pretty decent home cook. So, you used the injury card to get to teach Leah some new things.

You were walking around the kitchen again as if nothing happened, and that is exactly how you felt. No more pain and no more energy loss. You were ready to get back to training, and tomorrow was finally that day.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” Leah asked as she plopped herself down on the counter. “I'm a little nervous, but I am ready to get back out there.” You get a bit of the pasta sauce you made from scratch on a spoon and feed it to Leah. “Hm, tastes amazing, love.” Stepping forwards, you stand between her legs. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” She puts her arms around your waste. “It should be about you.” You shake your head, “It might be my comeback, but you and the team were the ones that experienced the scary part. Your feelings are valid too, and I want to know them.” Leah told you she was nervous too, but that she was confident that the physios and the rest of the medical team would take great care of you.

The next day you felt nervous on your way to the training centre, Leah tried her best to comfort you, but nerves were bound to happen. While the doctors said everything should be fine, it was still your heart you were talking about, so every precaution would be taken. 

The moment you walk into the dinning hall, you are hugged by your teammates, who are all happy to see you. All of them had come by on short visits over the past week, but nothing compared to seeing you decked out in your full training kit.

Leah’s eyes did not leave you for even a second, as you were training to the side with the physios. With a cardiac monitor to track everything properly, you were starting training slowly. Building up step by step, and you couldn’t be happier to be working on your comeback.

During a small break, Leah was by your side instantly to ask you how you were feeling. You hugged her and kissed her on her cheek. “I feel great.” Leah smiled at your enthusiasm. “I am so proud of you baby.”

-----

Lionesses just posted

Lionesses: Things we love to see! After being diagnosed with commotio cordis following a blunt trauma to the chest last week, Y/n has made her comeback to training. She will be training seperately from the team, so we can monitor her well. A full return doesn't seem far away!

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[polydamnory]

Poly Shaw Pack Headcanons

⚠️SOME NSFW BELOW - LIKE ONLY 2 BUT STILL YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)⚠️

Sometimes when David says something kind of snappy or rude to Angel (tsunderes gonna tsundere), Darlin will just come up, pick Angel up, and walk away saying “nope. Mate privileges revoked” - doesn’t matter if Angel isn’t bothered by it, he was mean

Milo HAS borrowed that choke collar from Baaabe and used it on Asher 👀👀👀

Almost all of them have tried their hand at teaching Asher how to cook - none have succeeded

Asher and Angel both keep getting caught late night gaming by the others, and David. Is. Not. Happy about it.

Sweetheart doesn’t purposefully sneak up on/startle Darlin the way they do Milo - they know that due to Darlin’s past trauma, they’re a lot more likely to lean more towards the fight part of fight or flight instincts, as well as just not wanting to accidentally trigger them in general

The non-shifter mates will go on a group date just the four of them once a month - the shifters do too but most of the time they just end up playing video games together (Asher) or spending some time in their wolf forms

Milo and Angel are both huge dorks for Aggro and baby him excessively

When Darlin gets really touch starved (which is most of the time), the rest of the polycule just kind of pile on top of them

Baaabe and David learned how to cook some of the dishes Sam’s grandmother used to make for him to help him feel better on the anniversary of her death - Darlin tried to help but got kicked out of the kitchen

Asher and Sweetheart occasionally team up to fuck with Milo (also Christian lol)

Angel moves around in their sleep a lot so whoever’s closest to them in bed have to be the ones to essentially smother them to keep them from accidentally kicking or punching somebody in their sleep

Solar Solstices are TOUGH with them all staying together, but thankfully the four non-shifters can team up to tackle it - Baaabe’s on cooking duty, Angel’s the one keeping David and Darlin from getting up out of bed (they are NOT above sitting on you, Darlin, stop it!), and Sweetheart and Sam team up to do some sleeping or healing magic - it doesn’t help much, but it’s something. They typically end up watching movies or playing some easy video games that at least keep them laying/sitting down for a majority of the day. EDIT: the lovely @darlin-collins (sorry for the at) has pointed out to me that both stealth’s AND vampires are negatively affected by the sun bound solstice so I guess Angel and Baaabe are gonna have to fight for their fucking lives lol

The mates groupchat still exists and Asher begs to be let in it like once a week

Darlin kind of wants to be included in it too but refuses to admit it

Asher and Angel can both dress like total gremlins and it physically pains Milo to have to see it

Baaabe has dommed most of the others at some point

Sam took a bit to feel comfortable asking to feed on any of them other than Darlin, and even then he still typically goes to them first if he’s feeling hungry - he doesn’t really have a favorite, it's just that in that regard he feels the most comfortable with them specifically

Asher will shift and comfort any and all of them in his wolf form like he does for Baaabe - he has to do it a lot for Sweetheart, their job has them stressed

David often feels like he’s babysitting a bunch of toddlers because even when they were just friends, the stupid shit this group would get themselves caught up in is insane - the fact that none of them have been arrested yet is a miracle in itself. No, Sam is not an exception.

Darlin, Milo and Angel are all terrible with horror movies (this is canon) and David sometimes likes to choose one he knows will particularly get them when it’s his pick for movie night just to fuck with them

I feel like some of these could technically apply outside the context of the polycule, and you know what, yeah that too

[ktsumu]

YOU TOLD ME TO DO IT SCARED

Iwaizumi was sixteen when he lost all of his fear.

He doesn’t really remember exactly what it was that the two of you were talking about, or when, but he remembers how his voice echoed in the alleyway home — the shortcut, he called it.

Iwaizumi remembers rambling and he remembers that you let him; you were never one to cut him off. He was a good listener, as it could be especially hard to get a word in around people like his group of friends, but you?

Around you? He couldn’t shut up.

He was rambling on and on about something — he forgets what, but it was big for his sixteen-year-old self. Nerve-wracking.

“Are you done?” he remembers you asking, side-eyeing him as you walked.

“Uh, yeah. I’m done.”

“Great. What are you even worried about, Hajime?”

(He still doesn’t know what. It turns out that you were right, and it was so insignificant that he can’t even remember what was bothering him to this day.)

“I don’t know. Rejection. Failure—“

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Yes, because Hajime Iwaizumi is known for failing.”

He furrowed his brows. “Don’t be mad that I’m nervous.”

“Scared, Haji.”

“I’m not—“

(You gave him a look and he shut his mouth.)

“So what?” he asked then, dropping his hands in his pockets. You never really knew why he was so good with you, why he talked so much — you never dared question it. “How do I get over it and just do it?”

You smile, shaking your head.

“You don’t get over it. You do it scared.”

“What?”

“Fake it ‘til ya make it, Haji.”

(Iwaizumi doesn’t remember what he did, but he knows he did it terrified; he did it well, too. Passed the test, won the game, cleared the hurdle, got the job. Whatever it was.)

Iwaizumi was sixteen when he lost all of his fear. He’s twenty-eight when it all comes crawling back.

By now, he’s more than a decade older with a bunch of fearlessness under his belt, from spiders put back outside to funny noises in the yard. He’s carding his fingers through your hair on the couch you both picked out, and he hasn’t been this scared in a really, really long time.

(Probably not since you told him that he just needed to do it.)

Iwaizumi is scared because, for the first time in the three months he’s been carrying your ring in his pocket, he really wants to fucking give it to you.

He’s always wanted to — no shit, it’s why he bought it — but tonight is the first time he wants to ask you. He doesn’t just want to picture it on your finger, he wants to feel it against his hand when he holds yours.

The same movie you’ve seen four times plays on the TV. You’re leaned right against him; your eyes are heavy, you’ve yawned a few times.

Half of him wants to do it, half of him knows it’s late.

It’s just — it’s you in his shirt, in his sweatpants, in his arms. He has been yours for way too long to not have done this sooner, but neither of you have ever been in a rush to do anything.

Until now, half past midnight on your long weekend and all he wants to do is plan a wedding.

Iwaizumi can’t even sit in his imagination for long, because soon enough you’re sitting up with a look of confusion and you’re lifting his hoodie up, putting a hand over his heart.

“What?” he says, half a breath and half a laugh.

You look … concerned. He can’t tell whether he thinks it’s cute or distressing. “You don’t feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“Hajime, your heart is racing.”

“Is it?” he asks. He sets his hand beside yours. “Nope, don’t feel it.”

You roll your eyes, yanking his sweater back down as you sit at his side. “Well, something is making you two steps away from arresting right here. Spill before I call an ambulance.”

“It’s nothing, seriously. Watch the movie, will you?”

“But I’m nosy, damnit. Don’t you know me at all?”

God, so fucking well. Somehow, not well enough. Tell me more. Tell me everything I already know.

“It’s nothing!”

“Hajime,” you say, and finally your voice is stern. “Whatever you want to say, you know I could never be mad at you for it.”

Iwaizumi takes a deep breath. The box in his pocket feels like it’s made of fucking lead.

“I—“

“Stop. It.”

(He does. He stands up instead.)

“Okay, wait,” you start again, “I didn’t mean leave.”

“Give me a second, damn,” he groans, dusting off his pants, checking it’s still there. Of course it’s still there, but if it wasn’t, this would be bad.

Iwaizumi knows you deserve a thousand flowers and a candle-lit beach, and maybe he’ll give you both. But he’s neck-deep and the water is rising; it’s now or within the next hour, really.

“Hey, are you alright? You’re pale,”

“I’m fine,” he reassures you. Iwaizumi kneels in front of the couch.

“Hajime,” you say again, face contorted in worry. “Seriously, are you—?”

You don’t just trail off, you jump off the road.

In one of his hands is a box. A small one, fitting for a ring. His other hand rests on your knee.

“Are you—“

“—dead serious? Yeah,” he says, sounding way less strong than he looks. “I am.”

He opens the little box, showing you what’s inside. It’s in your colour, a pretty diamond glistening beneath the warm light of your table lamp and the movie. You swear you even mentioned that shape once, probably years ago.

“No,”

“Yeah,” he says, “yes.”

“Are you serious?” you whisper, feeling your tears jerk to the surface, rimming your eyes. You rest a hand on his.

He’s shaking.

“Hajime,” you laugh, wiping a hand under your eye. “You’re shaking.”

He sighs.

“I know,” he nods. Iwaizumi cracks a small smile — he thinks he might cry, too. “You told me to do it scared.”

Your brows furrow and unfurrow in the matter of a few seconds. Yeah, you did say that.

(You were sixteen and talking about less major things, but you did say that.)

“So I’m doing it,” he finishes. “Scared.”

“Scared of what?”

He shrugs. “That I’d stutter when I ask you to marry me. Or that you’d say no.”

You smile. “Have you asked me?”

“Not yet. I was gonna make a speech, but I,” he slows. He stops — he has to, he’s getting choked up. “I might have to save it for later.”

“I don’t want a speech, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he says. Iwaizumi takes your hand in his shaking hold, his thumb swiping over the top of your ring finger. “I’m gonna do it now.”

“Get on with it, Hajime.”

You’re unmistakably excited.

Iwaizumi kisses where the ring will be if you tell him yes. Scared and all, he looks up at you.

(He speaks the words you’ve been waiting for into your skin. Will you marry me? murmured into your knuckles.

You don’t even tell him yes. Not coherently, anyway.)

You throw yourself into his chest and he has to hold himself up against the coffee table behind him to kiss you upright.

“Yes,” you answer again, over and over. “Even if you were scared to ask.”

“It just means I love you, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, taking your hand and moving it back in front of him. He slips your ring onto your finger. “Just scared on the off chance you were gonna spit in my face—“

“Shut up,”

“Hey, don’t talk to your fiancé like that.” Iwaizumi hesitates, looking up from the ring to your face. His eyes are so soft that you know they’re for you. “That has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“Fiancé,” you repeat. Husband to be.

“Yeah. That does sound pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“Just imagine how I think fiancée sounds, honey.”

“And look — you didn’t even stutter.”

“Oh, come o—“

“Careful what you say, now. Happy fiancée, happy life, Hajime.”

“I don’t think that’s the saying, but okay.”

note; tagging @shotorus because this is your man :3 happy late birthday sel!

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA (rape), Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ content, Stalking, Possessiveness (let me know down below if there's more to be added, please and thank you)

Word Count: 1.4k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain

A/n: Oh my gosh, I didn't think the first part would get so many hits already! Thank you so much for reading this current series! I've decided that this story is going to be my main focus and I'm putting the others on hold for now. Let me know in the comments below if you want to be added to the tag list. Also, keep in mind this story takes place in SCREAM 1996 (The Original) so some or a lot of the plot will be in it. Thank you :)

All chapter links 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 2

Monday, the first day of the week, the day that everyone dreaded. It meant the end of a great Weekend and the start of a long and exhausting forthcoming week ahead. 

You pulled into the driveway of Woodsboro High school, your ‘67 Chevy glistened in the sun’s light. You rolled the windows up, opened the door and stepped out, grabbing your bag in the process. 

Double clicking your keys’  button, your car beeped, indicating it was now locked.

The parking lot was littered with News Vans, Journalists and their Cameramen, along with police cars and Officers. You narrowed your eyes, confused, seeing all the commotion. 

“What the fu--” You uttered, cutting yourself off, seeing the auditorium sealed off. 

“(Y/n)! Over here!” You hear Tatum shout and you jerk your head in the direction.

“Hey, Tate..” You trailed, seeing Sidney next to her, “Hi, Sid..” You nodded, greeting them. “Do you two have any idea what is going on?” You asked, gesturing to everything around you.

Just as Tatum was about to answer, Gale Weathers, and her annoyingly pitched voice began talking. 

“The small town of Woodsboro, California, was devastated last night, when two young teenagers were found brutally murdered.” Gale took a breath before continuing her speech in front of her cameraman. “Authorities have yet to issue a statement, but our sources tell us that no arrest has been made, and the murderer could strike again..” 

Your head was filled with questions, who were the students that were killed? What if you were the next victim? Why hasn’t the killer been found yet? 

You gulped and your face tinted pink from nerves. 

“Do you believe this shit?” Tatum suddenly spoke, jolting both you and Sidney from your thoughts. 

“Tatum what is going on?” You and Sidney both asked in unison. 

“I was going to answer earlier, but Gale seemed to have your attention more.” Tatum licked her lips, and adjusted her bag over her shoulder. The blonde glanced at you and Sidney, “Wait, so you really don’t know?” She asked, her eyes wide. 

“Yeah, no shit, why else would I be asking?” You rolled your eyes, sarcasm evident in your voice. 

“Okay, okay…” Tatum mumbled, “Casey Becker and Steve Orth were killed last night.” 

“What?” Sidney began, “No way…” You finished Sidney’s sentence for her. 

“And we’re not just talking killed. We’re talking splatter-movie killed.” Tatum made hand motions and began walking, you and Sidney followed her lead. 

“Ripped open from end to end.” The blonde looked at you, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

“Casey Becker, she sits next to me in English.” Sidney gasped.

“Her boyfriend, Steve Orth, sat next to me in Drama..” You frowned, looking at Sidney. 

“Well, not anymore…” Tatum sputtered. 

“Ugh, that’s too bad…” You sighed, rubbing the back of your head.

“It’s so sad…” Tatum looked at the ground, kicking at a stone in her way. “Her mom and dad, they found her hanging from a tree, her insides on the outside…” Tatum placed her hands behind her back, rubbing the soles of her arm. “And Steve, God, he was found bound to a chair and his stomach ripped open..” 

“Oh, my God..” You groaned, sadness lingering in your voice. “Do they know who did it?” You asked, side-eyeing Tatum.

“They have no idea. They’re fuckin’ clueless.” 

You, Tatum and Sidney walked up the school’s steps. 

“They’re interrogating the entire school…” Tatum exhaled before listing off people, “Teachers, students, janitors--”

You butted in, “They think it’s school related?” You raised a brow, gripping the side of your arm, nails digging into your flesh. The anxiety of it all, started building up in the pit of your stomach. You felt nauseous.

Tatum stopped in front of you and Sidney, “They don’t know…” Tatum glanced into your hues before looking at Sidney, “I mean, Dewey was saying this is the worst crime they’ve seen in years. Even worse then--”

“Tate…” You warned, gesturing for her to choose her words carefully when speaking to Sidney. Yes, you may not like Sidney as much, but she doesn’t deserve to be reminded of her mother’s rape and murder. 

The bell rings, signaling the start of class, making the conversation dwindle. 

Tatum sighed, jabbing her two index fingers together, out of nervousness. “Well.. It’s bad.” 

--

You tapped your pencil against your desk, staring beside you. 

Little do your friends know, Steve was also your ex-boyfriend. After you guys had a falling out, he had left you for Casey. You didn’t want to suffer the embarrassment of anyone knowing you were the dumpee and not the dumper, plus, he was secretly seeing you while he was in another relationship before Becker. You didn’t want anyone to judge you for it. You felt guilty as is, but the way he was able to charm you with his words and physical touch, you couldn’t help yourself, but keep going for more. However, as far as anyone else knows, you guys were just close friends.

You moaned, letting your head droop, “Jesus…” You whispered, drumming your fingers, trying to settle the sick feeling in your gut. 

“(Y/n) (L/n), it would appear to be your turn.” The teacher said, looking at you, and the rest of the class turned their heads to meet your gaze.

You nodded, looking one last time at the empty desk next to you, where Steve used to sit. 

You grabbed your books, pencil case and water bottle, shoving them quickly into your bag. 

--

“Who’s up next?” The principal asked.

“Um, (Y/n) (l/n)..” Dewey looked over his papers.

“Wait, wasn’t she the one who found Maureen Prescott last year--” The principal began, but stopped, seeing you in the doorway. 

“Ah, (Y/n). How have you been?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m okay.” You smiled half-heartedly, sitting down on the blue-cushioned chair. 

“Hi, (Y/n)..” 

“Hello, Sheriff Burke, Dewey…” You inhaled, feeling the nerves begin to rile back up. You tapped your foot off the ground, shaking your leg, feeling your hands sweat.

“Uh, that’s Deputy Riley today, (Nickname).” Dewey winked. 

“How is Everything?” Sheriff Burke looked you over, seeing how anxious you were. 

“Um, could be better…” You mumbled, looking down. 

“Huh, why’s that?” Burke leaned forward. You sank in your chair, feeling rather intimidated. 

“Look, we’re gonna keep this very brief, (Y/n), alright?” The principal placed a broad hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “The police just want to ask you a few questions, okay?” 

You nodded. 

“(Y/n), were you very close to Steve Orth?”

‘Shit..’ You thought. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I was…” You wiped your hands off your jeans, trying to dry them off.

“How close?” Burke, scribbled down on his board, awaiting your answer.

You gulped, looking at Dewey, silently praying he’d step in, seeing how apprehensive you were, but he wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t, he was doing his job.

“We dated…” You started, “Last year for a couple months…” 

“How come the relationship ended?” 

“Uh, we--, um, we had a falling out.” 

“What type?” 

“Jesus--” You groaned, rubbing your thighs with your hands, “He was seeing me behind his then girlfriend's back, we slept together a few times, okay?” You came clean, “He wanted it to end, but I didn’t, but he ended up leaving anyway, leaving for Casey. That’s it, I swear.” You teared up, “I feel so bad about the whole situation as it is, poor Brooke, she didn’t know anything, but he left both of us for Casey..” You placed your hands over your face as quiet sobs escaped your lips. “Am I in trouble?” You peaked through the creases of your fingers, a blush forming across your face. 

“For having an affair with him? No, of course not, but that does move you on top of my suspect list.” 

You whined, misery coating your mind, “Why? I didn’t kill him..” You uttered, wiping your nose with your light-blue sleeve. “I was hurt, but that doesn’t mean I’d kill him for being scorned…” You trailed, meeting Sheriff Burke's eyes. “I couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a human being…” 

“Uh, Sheriff?” Dewey stepped in, “I mean, she’s right, there’s no way she could do something like that.” Dewey glanced at you. 

The Sheriff sighed, “We just have to ask you a few extra questions, that’s it.. I didn’t mean to frighten you like that, I should’ve worded it differently. It’s only because you were close with him, you were his mistress at one point, so it’s somewhat suspicious.” He rubbed his chin, “Mistress was upset by Steve breaking relations off, so Mistress sets a plan for revenge. You catch my drift?” He looked at you, and you slouched.

“Yeah..” Was all you could muster out, you sniffled, hugging yourself, waiting for more questions to be asked. “Alright, let’s get this over with…” 

<-Previous Next->

[lyubovsdiary]

Hi, can u do Armando x Vampire Reader(Lucy). Where, Armando, Mike, and Marcus were on a mission and they got captured and held hostage. Around 30 minutes, Mike and Marcus were trying to figure out a plan while Armando was listening till they heard screaming outside and then more screaming inside. The shots fired down and then the door was busted with great strength. Few men were guarding Marcus, Mike, and Armando. Then Lucy killed the first two by biting and breaking till the last one got his heart ripped out. Marcus and Mike were screaming but Armando was smiling little bit till it revealed Lucy. She said hey guys. Her mouth was all bloody and she got them out. In the end, Armando kissed her like crazy.

yeah ofc!!

Monster

a.aretas x vampire!reader

summary: due to a mission gone wrong, armando’s girlfriend has to come rescue her lover, his father and his father’s partner. what better time to meet his family?

warnings: violence, blood, graphic killing

a/n: i hope i could do your request justice!! i had some issues capturing mike and marcus’ humour and the way they talk, so i hope it resembles them at least somewhat. the smell problem marcus has with dead bodies is actually canon!! it’s mentioned in the first movie. also it’s my first time writing a supernatural reader, but i tried my best. the 5 eps i watched of the vampire diaries really paid off

“I thought when I joined las fuerzas del orden, shit like this wouldn’t happen no more,” Armando said while looking pointedly at Mike.

Said man just looked at him incredulously. “That’s too damn bad then. I’m gon’ call the guys over real quick and tell them to let us go because my bitchass son didn’t think policemen ever got kidnapped. Don’t piss me off,” Mike replied. This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go and Armando knew that damn well. He didn’t need to rub it in.

“Nah Mike, you can’t talk to yo son like that. What kinda role model are you gon’ be for him?” Marcus decided to pitch in.

“Now I know you ain’t tryna give me tips on raising my son, Marcus. Besides, what bullshit advice is that? He’s a grown ass man now, he has no role models,” Mike complained.

While the two continued to argue, Armando inspected his surroundings. The chair he was tied to was made of metal, so he couldn’t break it and have his hands and feet free. The room they were in was dimly lit and the walls were bare, if not for the grime and dirt sticking to them and the floor. In the nearest angle there seemed to be badly cleaned up blood and a fingernail. This really wasn’t what Armando expected would happen.

When he was briefed earlier today about the mission’s details together with the rest of the AMMO team, it had seemed simple enough. Infiltrate this new gang’s base, collect as much information as possible and then knock out and arrest everyone they could find. They were supposed to be quiet and sneaky to not alarm the gang’s members and make them run.

But things had not gone to plan. As soon as Armando, Mike and Marcus entered the bulding, they had been drugged with some kind of substance which made them pass out. Next thing Armando knew, he was tied to a chair next to the two idiots who were still talking next to him. He knew that every connection he had to the AMMO team had been ripped out and taken by their captors. But they hadn’t accounted for one thing: You.

Now it was just a matter of time before you got him out of here. Armando would just have to be patient and trust you.

In this moment he decided to listen in on the conversation currently held between the other two men in the room.

“I’m telling you Mike, if you make yourself sweat enough, you’ll be out of these ropes in no time,” Marcus insisted.

“Let’s see it then. C’mon, show me how the hell that’s supposed to work. And even if you did somehow succeed, what would you do after that? You ain’t got weapons, or a plan of what the building looks like. How many people are even in here?” Mike ridiculed. He knew damn well Marcus had no idea, ‘cause he never listened when team meetings were had. 25 years with his partner had given him enough experience to be sure of that.

“We can figure that out later, man. The first step is to get out of these ropes. See how my hand is moving already? I’m almost free Mike, you just wait and see how my genius gets us out of this place,” Marcus assured, wrists barely moving an inch.

Armando then decided to stop listening to them to protect his common sense and his peace. Their plan certainly wasn’t the best he’d ever heard of, but he had done much stupider and more reckless things, so he didn’t judge too much.

Suddenly the conversation between the two men was interrupted by loud screaming far away. Though that was cut off by a sickening ‘crack’. Someone started to yell something about “Shoot her! Shoot her now, you idiot!” but more screaming picked up and even more nauseating sounds of bones breaking, flesh tearing and knives meeting flesh could be heard.

Soon one couldn’t distinguish between the different sounds and they were combined to a vile symphony of chaos.

“What the fuck is happening out there?” Mike questioned, looking at the door like it might explode at any given moment. Marcus wasn’t looking too well either, fearing this may be the day a mission proved too much for him and his partner to handle.

Meanwhile, a small smile had formed on Armando’s lips. His saviour was coming.

You didn’t often kill people, moreover choosing to steal blood bags from the hospital you worked at and rarely harming a human. When Armando was in danger though, it was a completely different story. No one who dared lay a finger on him stayed alive long enough to regret ever touching the one person you loved more than anything.

Armando rarely used that to his advantage, usually using his own skills to defend himself if needed, but in situations like these, it was very useful to have a girlfriend who could hear your heartbeat a hundred miles away. You also tended to stay in the area of their mission, just as an extra precaution.

The sounds of destruction were coming closer and closer and Mike was slowly starting to panick too. Whatever was coming wasn’t anything good, and it seemed like it was coming for them next. He didn’t want to die here. He also didn’t want Marcus and his son to die here next to him due to some kind of psychopath targeting the wrong gang at the wrong time.

But he guessed wishes didn’t always come true.

The door was busted down, revealing a person biting into the neck of what seemed to be a gangster guarding the three men. Another gangster tried to punch the figure in the face, but his shoulder was quickly dislocated and his neck was bitten into as well. Dropping to the floor next to his companion shortly after, the men’s attention now focused solely on the figure they couldn’t see properly before.

You lifted your head and gave them perfect view of your fangs glistening with blood in the light streaming in from the outside. The red liquid was dripping down your chin, staining your clothes and the ground beneath you. Your pupils were dilated, high off the rush fresh blood granted you. A knife was sitting in your hand, stained in the crimson colour you loved so much. You looked like the monsters mothers warned their young children about and fathers looked under beds and in closets for.

Marcus couldn’t contain a terrified shriek, when out of nowhere another gangster threw herself at you, trying to stab you with a dagger she had hidden in her shoe. Deciding you had had enough, your hand reached inside her chest, and returned with her still beating heart sitting perfectly on it.

The girl looked at her heart and the hole in her chest with big, terror-filled eyes. She couldn’t even whimper before slumping down the nearest wall and losing her life.

Throwing her heart next to her lifeless body, you stepped over her, turning to look at the three men held captive.

“Hey guys. Need some help?” you asked evenly, scanning the faces until you found who you were looking for. Crouching down next to him, you inspected his face, arms, and any visible part of him to see if you could make out any injuries.

“Are you okay? Did those bastards hurt you? I swear I’ll find a way to bring them back to life just to kill them more painfully this time around,” you muttered with a tight voice while undoing the ropes wrapped around Armando’s wrists and ankles.

“No, mama, estoy bien. They didn’t get a chance to, because mi hermosa novia was too quick for them to even think about it,” the smooth man praised you, knowing it always made you feel better. Praise was something you loved to hear, especially coming from him.

While the two of you were having your sweet moment, Marcus and Mike were having trouble comprehending what exactly had just happened. In all the years they had worked together they had never been quiet for as long as they were now. Their speechlessnes was partly due to the fact that Armando seemed to know you very well and partly due to the mess you had left behind.

The brutality of the deaths of the gangsters shocked the two detectives. They had seen a lot in their careers, but this was a whole new level of freak that they didn’t know how to deal with. Especially Marcus had to breathe through his mouth, because the stench was deadly. The smell of corpses wasn’t something that ever got easier to smell, even after more than 25 years on the force.

After finally freeing Armando, the two of you went over to his two teammates to free them from their ropes too. Armando went to his father and you went to Marcus.

“Nah, don’t you touch me! I have a wife and kids! If you drink my blood or whatever you and your father Dracula do, she’s gonna kill you, I swear!” Marcus shouted, trying to lean away as far as possible from you.

“Relax, I won’t hurt you,” you promised, having to suppress your laughter at his comment. You had to admit it wasn’t as bad as what others have said when they found out what you were. Granted, they usually didn’t have time to say anything much, because the next thing they saw after your fangs was either heaven or hell, but still.

Freeing the detectives as well, the four of you started to make your way out of the bulding, with Mike leading the way, Marcus watching his six and Armando and you following behind them.

Before stepping into the hallway though, Armando grabbed your arm and spun you around to face him. After looking in your eyes for one magnetic moment, he leaned down and kissed you passionately. Borderline making out with you next to the people you had killed for him. The two of you were certainly meant to find each other, since neither of you minded.

Translations:

las fuerzas del orden - the law enforcement

estoy bien - I’m fine

mi hermosa novia - my beautiful girlfriend

[autisticlancemcclain]

For all that Keith easily sees the strength in others, he struggles to accept just how much value he holds. He’s not like Lance, of course — Lance sees the good in every person he meets because as much as he hates to admit it, he’s gullible. But Keith looks at every person he meets and easily identifies their strength. Sometimes it’s with fondness, sometimes with wariness, but he is completely certain that everyone in the universe has a value to them.

He, however, struggles to see how he is valued by others.

It’s not that he thinks he’s useless. He knows he isn’t. He knows he’s skilled. But Lance has always observed Keith in any way he could, and that didn’t stop when they got married. Lance knows his husband can’t quite understand why he is loved as much as he is. He’s happy to explain why he values everyone else, from earnestly explaining to Allura that she’s the spirit of Voltron and fondly telling Lance to leave the math to Pidge — he loves metaphors, that husband of Lance’s, because heaven forbid he just says what he wants to say — but vehemently denies that he might be held in just as high regard.

But Lance knows. Quietly, proved over and over again through the years, he knows that Keith is who people turn to when they need someone. Keith is reliable, he’s dependable, he’s strong — a little tactless, sure, but when you’re scared and vulnerable and you don’t know what to do or who to rely on? You turn to Keith. Lance did it himself, years and years ago, when there were five lions and six paladins and he didn’t know where to go from there. The war may be behind them, but that didn’t stop their team from needing their leader.

1. Pidge

Lance really starts to clue in when Keith’s phone goes off, late at night, when they’re cuddling and watching a movie (but mostly cuddling).

“Sorry,” Keith mutters sheepishly. Lance just rolls his eyes fondly and digs around for the remote to pause the movie (he is not going to have Keith talk over Legally Blonde. That’s a sin). Remote search or no, though, Lance refuses to move even one inch away from his own personal space heater, so he feels it when said personal space heater tenses up.

Here we go.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Just — don’t hang up. I’m coming, okay?”

Keith puts his hand over the base of his phone, looking at Lance urgently.

“It’s Pidge.”

“Is she okay? Does she need Voltron?”

“Not all of us,” he says, hushed. “She’s just — she messed around in the wrong server and got herself arrested in the Delrn quadrant. She needs someone to go get her.”

Lance exhales, shoulders slumping. That’s not — that’s not good, obviously, but after years of Pidge needs help meaning Pidge is being ambushed by dozens of armed soldiers, it’s a lot less scary.

“You need my help?”

Keith shakes his head. “No, you stay here. I’ve got it. It shouldn’t take too long. Don’t wait up though, okay?”

He presses a kiss to Lance’s cheek before untangling himself from the blankets, walking over to the front door and sliding on his boots.

“I’m coming now, Pidge, okay? Keep on, I’ll transfer your line to my ship in a minute.”

“Text me when she’s safe,” Lance calls as Keith unlocks the door.

“Will do.” He shoots a rueful smile in Lance’s direction. “Sorry for ditching movie night.”

Lance shakes his head fondly, waving him away. “Go, Oh Mighty Black Paladin. I’ll see you when you get home.”

Keith grins at him one more time before he ducks into the garage, locking the door behind him. Lance sighs, turning off the T.V. and folding the blanket, heading over to the kitchen to make himself a coffee. He won’t be able to sleep until he knows Pidge is home safe, anyway. (And, he’ll be honest, there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that he’ll be able to sleep without Keith’s constant snores.)

By the time Keith gets home, Lance has finished three (3) coffees and has sewn the lining of the current project he’s working on. It’s something like 4 in the morning, but Lance stopped looking at the clock a couple hours ago.

“I thought I told you not to wait up,” Keith says, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to Lance’s lips.

“Mm,” Lance mumbles, grabbing Keith’s shirt and keeping him right where he is (pressed close close closely to Lance, where Lance has selfishly and unashamedly decided he belongs). “Can’t sleep without you. I’ve unfortunately fallen victim to your conditioning, Pavlov.”

Keith snorts, kissing him one last time before fully scooping him up in his arms.

Lance, whipped as he is, does not protest.

“I think you’re maybe just in love with me,” he says, smirking.

Lance pretends to think about it. “I dunno. There’s this really hot guy, maybe you’ve heard of him. Leader of Voltron? Ex-Blade? He’s got this dreamy mullet. I kind of have a thing for him.”

Keith rolls his eyes, fully throwing him on the bed and crawling in after him, ignoring Lance’s indignant yelp.

“He sounds like a dork,” he says drily.

Lance grins. “He is.”

“Whatever, you butthead. Get over here so we can sleep.”

Without a moment of hesitation, Lance flops into Keith’s open arms, snaking his arms around his husband’s waist and tangling their legs together. He holds him closely, head over his heart, listening to it beat.

“Pidge okay?” he asks softly.

Keith hums, running his hands through Lance’s hair. “Yeah. Pretending to be less shaken up than she is. She got cocky and got caught and it freaked her out, so she started running her mouth. You know her.”

Lance laughs quietly. Sounds like Pidge.

“But it wasn’t that big of a deal. I went to the station and talked them out of pressing charges for spying. She’s banned from the quadrant for life, but nothing else. Dunno why she called me to help. Coran probably would have been more helpful.”

Privately, Lance thinks he knows exactly why Pidge called Keith. Why, when she was scared and alone and knew she had fucked up, she immediately called the one person who would drop everything to make sure she’s okay. Who has done it for her before and will do it again. Who respects her as a grown woman, now, who doesn’t need his guidance, but who will never stop providing his support.

“Bet she thought the big bad Black Paladin would win her some intimidation points,” he says instead, because he knows his husband isn’t yet ready to hear it.

They’ll get there.

2. Hunk

It’s not that Keith gets these calls often. Hell, definitely no more than once every five or six months. Few and far between, really. Staggered enough that the pattern might skip most people’s notice.

But Lance knows better.

So when Keith’s phone rings — and of course it actually rings, because Keith is the only person Lance knows who never, ever turns his ringer off, because even though he might not realise it he is constantly ready to help and would never put himself in a position where he can’t — in the middle of their mortgage meeting with the bank, Lance ducks his head to hide his smile.

He figured that might happen.

“Fuck,” Keith mutters, digging around in his pocket. “Sorry. I have to take this.”

The bank teller — a very serious-looking woman in her late sixties — does not look amused. She mutters something about professionalism.

Lance does her a favour and does not point out that Keith is one of five reasons that Earth is not currently a pile of space dust, and she should perhaps provide some lenience.

“Keith?” comes a nervous, teary voice from Keith’s phone (the bank teller’s office is real small, and there’s no room for privacy).

“Yeah, Hunk. You okay?”

“Um, sorry to bother you. You’re probably busy. But, uh. My car broke down? I tried fixing it myself but I don’t have the parts I need, and triple A says they can’t send a tow because of all the snow, and I’m wearing a coat but I don’t really want to be here for hours so —“

“Hunk,” Keith interrupts, “breathe, buddy.”

Hunk does, deep and noisy enough to be heard through the phone.

(Lance thinks back to the first time he can remember that Hunk’s anxiety made itself known around Keith. He remembers seeing Keith, eighteen and still bitter and unsure but desperate to be part of a family, with wide panicked eyes and stuttering advice about ‘not worrying about it’, trying to calm Hunk down to no avail. It’s certainly something, he’s thinks, that Keith can now calm Hunk effortlessly through the phone.)

“I’m leaving now to come pick you up. We’ll come back later to get your car, yeah?”

“I don’t want to put you out —“

“Hunk,” Keith says firmly, “chill out. Or, er, don’t, I guess, since that’s the problem. Um, stay in your car so you’ll stay warm. I’ll be there soon. Okay?”

“…Okay.”

Keith hangs up, and looks apologetically at Lance.

“I’m sorry, babe, I know this is important —”

Lance squeezes his hand. “Go. I got this.”

Keith quickly gets up from the stuffy chair, presses a kiss to Lance’s temple, and rushes out without a word.

The bank teller sniffs. “High demand, your husband. Can’t even make time for one appointment. That doesn’t inspire confidence, you know.”

“Family emergency, ma’am,” Lance says with great amusement. “Besides, we’re nearly finished. I’ll make sure to relay everything you say to him when he gets home.”

Lance decides to walk home after the meeting, since Keith has their car. It’s nice. Despite the mishap, the meeting had gone rather smoothly, and there’s no reason why they shouldn’t get approved for their mortgage within the week. That’ll keep things going nicely. Lance will miss their quiet little apartment, but he’s excited for what they’re going to build together next.

Besides, he thinks, when Keith gets home several hours later with a sheepish Hunk in tow, it’ll be nice to have a couple guest bedrooms.

He’s sure they’ll need them.

3. Romelle

The ring of the doorbell makes them both panic.

“Is that the social worker?”

“She’s not supposed to be here for another hour,” Lance hisses, three steps away from freaking out. Keith is not far behind him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Can we ignore it?”

“No, we can’t ignore it! It’s a home visit! We need to be home!”

“Fuck! Okay! I’m gonna answer the door, fix your hair!”

Lance does, frantically trying to pat it down so it doesn’t look like he’s been nervously running his hands through it for four hours (he has) or that he just had sex (he hasn’t). (Well. Not since this morning.)

“Here, let me —” Lance practically melts at Keith’s touch, his gentle hands through the knots in Lance’s un-straightened hair, even though it’s certainly not a new sensation.

But he always appreciates Keith’s hands on him.

“We’ll be okay,” Keith says, dropping a kiss on Lance’s forehead before stepping away. “I mean, if we fail we can just be assholes and pull the saviours-of-the-universe card, right?”

Lance flicks him on the forehead, unable to fight back a smile. “We’re supposed to be responsible now, Mullet.”

Keith grins, curling one hand in Lance’s and one around the doorknob. “Whatever you say, Kogane. You ready?”

Lance nods, squeezing Keith’s hand.

They’ve got this.

“Hi,” says someone who is decidedly not the social worker, looking at them nervously from their front door.

Keith and Lance blink at her, and then each other, shocked.

Well. At least this is better than Mrs. Kreft coming early, at least.

“Romelle? What are you doing here?”

The Altean’s face crumples, and she throws herself at Keith.

“I don’t know what I’m doing with my life,” she wails.

Lance sighs fondly, shaking his head.

He should have known.

“I’ll call Mrs. Kreft,” Lance says as Keith guides the sobbing woman to their couch. Keith nods gratefully, then turns his attention back to Romelle, so Lance heads to the kitchen to give them some privacy.

He quickly dials the social worker’s number, resting his hip on the counter and fiddling with a random pen he found.

“Lance! I’m about to leave for your place now. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” he reassures. “Keith’s sister popped by unexpectedly, though. She’ll probably stay for a couple weeks. I was wondering if you could maybe do one of our character evaluations at the same time as the home visit? Two birds with one stone, you know.”

If there’s one thing Lance is good at, it’s rolling with the punches. He’ll handle this.

“You caught me at a good time, then,” Mrs. Kreft says jovially. “I’ll get the right paperwork. Is Keith’s sister prepared for the interview process? She’s not really meant to rehearse or anything — she’s supposed to provide an honest and timely assessment of your caregiving abilities — but it would be best if she knew it was coming.”

“I’ll make sure to brief her. Thank you, Mrs. Kreft. We really appreciate it.”

“Of course, Lance. I’m rooting for you two. I’ll see you in about forty-five minutes.”

“Alright, thanks. Bye.”

Keith walks in to the kitchen just as she hangs up.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Lance says, reaching over to rest his hand on the side of Keith’s neck. He rubs his thumb over the tense muscles there, tracing over his clenched jaw and pursed lips. “I handled it, baby. She’s going to do a character interview with Romelle at the same time, so this worked out.”

Keith sighs in relief, tilting forward to rest his head on Lance’s shoulder. Lance shifts so he’s comfortable, running his hands through Keith’s hair.

“Oh, thank God.”

Lance hums. “Told you it would be fine.”

“I know. It’s just — I feel like every time we try and do something for our future, something happens and you end up picking up my mess on your own. We’re about to — we’re trying to be parents, Lance. I want us to be on equal grounds.”

“Hey.” Lance tugs gently on his husband’s hair. “Look at me.”

Keith does, looking down at him with a furrowed brow and frustrated pout. Lance reaches up to smooth the line between his eyebrows.

“Do you think I walked into this unprepared?” he asks sternly. “I know you, sweetheart. I knew exactly what I signed up for when I agreed to be your right hand. Do you think that stopped when the war was won? Do you think I didn’t know that were were going to be doing this leading schtick our whole lives? I knew who you were when I married you, baby. This is not a surprise. You’re not leaving me to clean up after you. We’re a team, cielo. And sometimes a team means I stay home and hold the fort while you’re picking up our dumbass friends from a holding cell, or calling the social worker as you make sure everything’s okay. Okay?”

Keith exhales, pressing his forehead to Lance’s.

“Okay. Thank you, Lance. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Lance presses a quick kiss to his lips before stepping away, grabbing a box of tissues and filling up a glass of water. “Okay, Samurai. Fill me in. What’s up with Romelle?”

“She’s worried she’s got no future. She’s been kind of drifting around between New Altea and the Rebels and the Blades, doesn’t feel like she fits in anywhere.”

“So she’s going through the emo Keith phase,” Lance teases.

Keith scowls. “Whatever. Technically.”

“She came to the right place, then. Your earnestly awkward life-coach ass will have her fixed up in no time.”

“You’re mean to me,” Keith says, pouting.

Lance laughs, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Mhm, and you’d be lost without me. Let’s go make sure you’re sister is okay.”

Intermission

To Lance’s relief, there are no interruptions on the most important day of their lives — the day everything they’ve been slowly working for comes together. The day their family grows to four — two kids, siblings, lives uprooted by the war — there are no interruptions. No one calls, no one shows up unexpectedly, no one needs their help.

It’s just them, terrified and elated at the front door, meeting Mason and Keevah for the first time.

Keith is the first to react. He squeezes Lance’s hands three times in quick succession then lets go, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor, eye-level with Mason. He looks at Keith warily, untrusting.

It makes Lance’s heart ache, for this little boy who had the worst thing that could ever happen to a kid happen to him while the entire planet was falling apart, who has learned to be jaded and icy to every adult he’s met, who only barely remembers what it’s like to live in a loving home.

“Hi,” Mason says eventually.

Keith smiles slightly. “I’m Keith. My husband’s name is Lance.” Lance waves. Mason glances at him, but does not wave back. “We have a room prepared for you and your sister.”

Mason blinks, surprised. “Me and Keevah?”

Lance smiles, finally losing the battle with his tears. (He’s doing everything he can to keep the smile on his face, keep himself from openly sobbing. He keeps imagining himself in Mason’s position, losing his parents before he could talk properly and suddenly desperate to stay with your infant sister. It’s heartbreaking. He already aches for this kid, and he barely knows him.)

(Yet.)

“Yes,” he says, voice cracking. “We figured that would make the transition easier.”

Mason hesitates a moment. Lance can see the emotions warring on his face — to trust, or not to trust — and he can hear Keith’s breathing shift, slightly, like he’s remembering feeling those exact same emotions himself, years and years ago, stepping into Shiro’s apartment for the first time and wondering if it’s worth it to hope.

“Okay,” Mason says eventually. He tugs on Keevah’s hand, wrapped tightly around her big brother’s finger, other thumb in her mouth as she stares at Keith and Lance with blatant curiosity. “Let’s go, Keevah. It’s late. Time for bed.”

Lance moves to guide them to their new room, but Keith stands, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“It’s the first door on your left,” he tells them. Mason nods once and walks off, superhero suitcase rolling behind him. (They hadn’t known if Mason liked superheroes, or Keevah, but Keith had been adamant that they buy a set of luggage before signing all the paperwork, quietly confiding that the worst thing about moving to a new home growing up was packing all your shit in a garbage bag, like that was all it was worth. Lance was quick to agree.)

“They’ll need time to adjust,” Keith murmurs. “I always hated the fosters that were too overbearing.”

Lance sniffles, nodding. “Good point.”

Keith’s smile is soft as he reaches over to brush the tears from Lance’s cheeks, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Everything will work out,” he murmurs. “Promise.”

The surety of his husband’s voice makes him smile. Keith’s strength is unwavering.

“I know. I trust you.”

4. Allura

By the time the fourth call comes, half a year later, Keith is starting to catch on. He’s in the middle of shoving their last duffel bag into the trunk when his phone rings, and his sigh is so heavy that Lance can hear it from the driver’s seat. He hides a smile in his hand.

Keith’s phone is connected to the car’s bluetooth, so Lance turns down the volume — high enough that he can hear, but low enough that Mason and Keevah, who are playing patty cake in the back seat, can’t.

“Allura? Everything okay?” Despite his exasperation, his voice is calm.

For a whole fifteen seconds the other end is silent, long enough that Lance would almost think that the Queen of New Altea had simply butt dialed them were it not for the faintest sounds of heavy, stressed breathing. Then Allura blurts out: “I can’t do this anymore.”

There’s another moment of silence as Keith processes that.

“Do what?” he asks hesitantly. He slides into the passenger seat, buckling up and flashing a small smile at Lance. Lance shoots him a thumbs up in acknowledgment, glancing in the rearview to make sure the kids are buckled too, before peeling out of the driveway, setting route for his parent’s house.

“Do this!” Allura cries, tears audible in her voice. “I’m — I’m quiznaking everything up! I can’t — I’m not fit to be a leader, Keith! I’m not you, I’m not Shiro, and I’m certainly not my father, and I am going to lead my entire people and our planet into a flaming pile of Weblum dung! I am the worst queen to ever be coronated! I’m a mistake!” She sobs, so loud the audio crackles with it. Lance exchanges a worried look with his husband.

He’s never heard Allura so upset — not even when they were facing the end of the universe and none of them had a hail mary to fall back on.

“You’re not a mistake, Allura.” Keith’s voice is quiet, but firm, full of undeniable conviction. He leaves absolutely no room for doubt. “Don’t insult my friend that way.”

Allura chokes on another sob over the phone. For a while there are no words, just the sound of her cries, long enough that Lance feels his own heart start to hurt and chin start to tremble. He hates hearing his friends — his family — suffering.

“I don’t know what to do,” Allura chokes out. “I’m not — every choice I make is the wrong one.”

Keith reaches over and plucks one of Lance’s hands off the steering wheel, gripping it tightly. He doesn’t even seem to notice he’s done it, staring thoughtfully at his phone, like he needed to borrow Lance’s strength for a minute. He hates hearing any of them in pain, too.

Lance squeezes tightly, happy to lend it.

“What happened?”

It’s hard to make out everything she’s saying, intergalactic calls already so staticky on top of her emotions making her accent thicker than usual, but the gist is pretty obvious. Allura has been queen for half a decade, now, a little more — the honeymoon phase, so to speak, is starting to wear off. No longer are all her people just relieved to be out from Lotor’s tyranny — like with any nation, tension has arisen, and Allura is struggling to handle it all on her own. She can’t please everybody, and it’s beyond disheartening to have so many people, who were once completely happy with her and her leadership, frustrated with her.

Keith lets her vent until she finally stops for a moment to breathe. He takes a moment to gather himself, frowning deeply.

“I don’t understand why all of this is resting on your shoulders,” he says carefully.

There’s a pause.

“…Pardon?”

“You seem to be the only one putting out every single fire that’s popping up,” Keith repeats. “Where’s Coran? Or the rest of your council?”

This time the pause is much longer.

Guiltier.

“I don’t want to burden them.”

Keith sighs, but it’s not disappointed. It’s exasperated. Concerned, more than anything. Despite himself, Lance smiles; it’s the exact same sigh Lance would often heave when Keith was trying to do everything by himself, in his earliest Black Paladin days. It’s beyond a little amusing to hear it from the other end.

“Allura, that is their job. They are paid to take some of that burden from you, dude. Quite a lot of it, in fact.”

“Still,” Allura says stubbornly. “It’s not — I’m the queen. ‘Heavy is the head that wears the crown’, as you humans say.”

Keith’s indigo eyes brighten. Lance groans, barely resisting the urge to slam his head on the steering wheel — he recognises that look. That’s his husband’s I just thought of an applicable metaphor look.

Keith gleefully ignores him, bolstering right on.

“And what happens if the head is too heavy, ‘Llura?”

Lance groans louder, so Allura can hear this time. It startles a laugh out of her, which brings a smile to Lance’s face and a scowl to Keith’s.

“…You topple right over,” Allura admits begrudgingly.

Keith nods, inordinately pleased with himself. “Exactly.”

“You’re infuriating,” Allura informs him. She blows her nose. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“Well, good thing that doesn’t happen often,” Lance chimes in, because the opportunity was right there and the whole point of marriage is that he has the opportunity to mock Keith until they both finally bite it.

Allura laughs as Keith glares at him. Lance smiles primly.

“I cannot believe you two,” Keith mutters to himself. Lance kisses the tips of his fingers with an exaggerated mwah noise and presses the fingers to Keith’s forehead. Much to his own chagrin, no doubt, the action makes his lips twitch up into a smile.

“Thank you, Keith,” Allura says. “You too, Lance. I — appreciate it. And you.”

The softness bleeds back into Keith’s expression. Sap. “Of course, Allura. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He’s quiet for a moment after she hangs up, contemplative.

“Isn’t it strange that she called me for — for leadership advice?” he questions finally, turning to face Lance. “I mean, I stumbled through every day as leader. Shiro was more of a natural. Hell, you’re better with pep talks, Mr. The Black Lion Chose You And I Trust It’s Judgement.”

The set up is there. Lance could spell it out for him now, gently explain what he’s observed over the years, what he knows to be true — Keith, even though he refuses to admit it or even let himself notice, is the cornerstone of their family, the one who grew up with so much change so constantly that he learned to find steadiness in himself.

But that’s a longer conversation. That’s a quiet conversation, for when Lance can give his husband his full attention, when they can face each other and be honest and work through the inevitable pain of Keith accepting that as truth. Not when Lance is driving, and their kids are in the back, very obviously listening in at this point.

“Oh, come on, Fearless Leader,” Lance teases. “She knew she needed a nice, cheesy metaphor to set her head on straight, isn’t it obvious?”

Keith scoffs, smacking him on the bicep. “Jerk.”

Lance gasps loudly, clutching the bicep dramatically.

“Mason! Keevah! Did you see what your evil, evil daddy did to me?! To your beloved Papa! Oh, how I am wounded! Betrayed! By the love of my life, my dearest husband, the man to whom I have pledged my heart —”

The kids giggle, Keith rolling his eyes so hard it has to hurt him.

Lance smiles to himself. Now’s not the right time, but they’ll get there — soon.

5. Sylvio

The truth finally starts to cement itself in Keith’s head by the fifth phone call.

Lance groans as his husband’s ringtone drags him from his sleep, glaring at the man who sleeps peacefully right through it. He smacks him with a pillow, waking him with a startled “Wha—?” and then hands him his phone.

“Hello?” Keith asks groggily, sitting up — dragging Lance, who was laying on his chest, up with him, much to his chagrin — and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

There’s a beat of silence, then a timid: “Tio Keith?”

Both of them shoot up in alarm. Lance hasn’t heard his nephew sound so close to tears since he was much younger.

“It’s three in the morning, kiddo,” Keith says, looking at Lance as if to ask what’s going on?. Lance shrugs, gesturing at the phone — find out!

“I fucked up,” Sylvio says in a small voice, and then he bursts into tears. Keith leaps out of bed immediately, frantically looking for some pants. Lance grabs them and tosses them to him, watching in concern.

“Woah — Sylvio — slow down, I can’t —”

But Sylvio keeps rambling, in a mix of Spanish and English so muddled that even Lance has no idea what he’s saying.

“Just please come get me,” he cries, the first clear words in minutes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, kiddo. Where are you?”

Sylvio rattles off an address, and Keith nods. “I’m coming, okay? Keep your phone on you.”

Sylvio says something in affirmation, then keeps crying, muttering to himself. Keith covers the phone with one hand, he other tugging on some socks. He looks at Lance in panic.

“Why is he calling me?”

Lance shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“You should go,” Keith says nervously. “He’s your nephew, you —”

“He’s your nephew too,” Lance interrupts quietly. “You know that. Plus, he called you, cielo. You’re the one he needs right now.”

Keith doesn’t look any more reassured. In fact he looks more desperate and confused by the second. “Maybe we should both go.”

Lance is already shaking his head before he finishes his sentence. “Keevah’s sick, baby. One of us has to stay home in case she gets worse, or throws up.” He slides off the bed, padding over to Keith and cupping his face gently. “Go, Keith. Bring him back, we’ll talk to him then, okay? I’ll wait up. Luis and Lisa aren’t far from here, it won’t take you more than twenty minutes both ways.”

“Right.” Keith takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opens them again, most of the panic is gone, replaced with the same determination he always has when things get a little dicey and hopeless. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he says, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to Lance’s lips. Lance holds him there for a moment, trying to press a little bit more of his love into it than usual.

“I’ll be here.”

+1. Keith

A little less than an hour later, Lance hears their car pull into the driveway. He tugs his robe around him tightly, hurrying to open the door.

“Hey,” Keith says, kissing him quickly and then moving to let Sylvio come through. His face is creased in worry. Sylvio walks in after, silently, shoulders hunched and eyes puffy, face streaked with tears. Lance closes and locks the door behind him, reaching up to hug his nephew tightly.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Sylvio sniffles, face crumpling. He leans into Lance’s embrace, face to his neck, and Lance feels his face get wet with tears again. “Hi, Tio.” His voice cracks.

Lance guides them both to the living room, setting them down on the couch.

“I’ll grab some tea,” Keith murmurs.

Lance hums at him, leaning back onto the cushions and stroking Sylvio’s hair as he cries. Keith is back shortly, setting three mugs on the coffee table and sitting on Sylvio’s other side, arm over the back of the couch. He’s silent for a while, waiting for the kid’s cries to peter out.

“What happened?” he asks, once Sylvio has finally calmed down a bit.

“Dad and I have been fighting a lot,” he says quietly. Lance winces. He’s heard from Lisa and Luis, of course, but he would have figured it out even if he hadn’t — Sylvio has called Luis ‘Papa’ every day of his life, since he was a little boy. He’s only called Luis ‘Dad’ when he’s furious, when he’s deliberately trying to hurt Luis, when both of them can barely stand to be in the same room as each other.

Lance rubs his shoulder. “What happened?”

Sylvio’s chin trembles, and another tear drips down his cheek. “He never — no one I bring home is ever good enough. Nadia can bring home whomever she wants and it’s never a problem, but when I do it, suddenly he has a million faults and he’s bad for me or too old for me or just a shitbag.” He makes a noise of frustration. “He treats me like a baby, like I’m incapable of of making a fucking decision for myself.”

As subtly as he can, Lance exchanges a look with Keith. This is not the first time this situation has been brought up, by more than one person. Sylvio calls Lance to complain about his parents on a semi-regular basis, and both Luis and Lisa have confided in him on more than one occasion.

The problem is, Sylvio is…kind of in the wrong, here.

Privately, when they try and make light of the situation, they joke that Sylvio has the Lance taste — that is, garbage. Before Keith, Lance was very good at falling for people who were either really bad for him, bad in general, didn’t like him, or treated him like shit. A good portion of that came from his own insecurity and cripplingly low self-esteem, and Sylvio is no exception.

Every guy he has brought home has been, to Luis’ credit, not good enough. Once it was someone who made fun of Sylvio every other sentence, once it was a guy who was three times his age, once someone who was clearly using Sylvio as a rebound… Luis saw it, but he was incapable of handling it in any way other than outright banning Sylvio from seeing whomever the loser of the month was, which went about as well as you would think.

It’s been an ongoing problem.

“I’m sorry you guys are fighting,” Lance says, because it’s truly not his place to try and parent Sylvio. He’s tried to guide both his brother and his nephew into the right direction, but neither listen. “I’m glad you called us first, though. That was the safest thing for you to do.”

Sylvio bites his lip. Keith shakes his head slightly.

Lance’s face drops. “Oh, Sylvio…”

His nephew’s face crumples. “I thought the party would be a good distraction,” he whispers. “I didn’t think — he’s supposed to love me, why did he —” Sylvio interrupts himself with a sob. Lance holds him tightly again. He’s not sure exactly what happened, and he won’t know until he can ask, but he can make a pretty good assumption.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out.”

Sylvio cries on his shoulder for a while longer, long past when he runs out of tears, just dry-sobbing until his whole body shakes and his eyes must be burning. Lance holds him through it, and Keith keeps a steady hand on his back.

“Daddy?” comes a small voice, at least a half hour later. All three of them crane their necks towards the sound, seeing Keevah, eyes watery, standing in the low light of the kitchen with her stuffed lion clutched in her hand. “I threw up.”

Keith gets up immediately. “Oh, c’mere, sweetie.” He scoops her up, her head resting on his shoulder, then turns toward Lance. “I’ll put her back to bed, you get Sylvio to bed?”

Lance nods, and Keith heads back to her and Mason’s bedroom. Lance stands, gently pulling his nephew to his feet, guiding him to the guest room.

Once he’s got the bed turned down and Sylvio in some of Keith’s old pj’s, he tucks him into bed like he’s nine instead of nineteen, kissing him gently on the forehead.

“I’ll call your parents to let them know you’re safe, okay?” Sylvio nods, half asleep. “Sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

By the time Lance hits the lights, he’s out. Lance watches him for a moment, smiling sadly.

He’ll figure it out. Lance did, when he was nineteen, even though it sucked.

He pads over to his and Keith’s bedroom, exhausted, but knowing that he won’t be sleeping for a while. Keith is already there, pulling off his vomit-stained shirt — poor Keevah — and pulling on a fresh one.

“She okay?” Lance murmurs, crawling under the covers and into Keith’s open arms. Keith nods, tightening his hold and pressing a kiss to Lance’s hair.

“Yeah. Fell asleep halfway through her bath.”

“Poor thing.”

Keith is silent for a while, fingertips tracing circles on Lance’s lower back, but he’s nowhere near falling asleep. He’s tense as a live wire, and Lance can feel his heart pound where their chests are pressed together.

“I don’t understand,” he says eventually. His voice is so quiet Lance can barely hear him.

Lance doesn’t need him to specify. “I do.”

The mindless shapes Keith is tracing shift to something more deliberate, tapping, seeking comfort rather than mindless fidgeting.

“…Explain it to me?”

Lance shifts slightly, so he’s still in Keith’s hold but there’s a bit of space between them, so he can look Keith in the face.

“People trust you, Keith. There’s nothing to explain.” He leans in and presses a kiss to Keith’s neck, the hollow of his throat — not to instigate anything, but to touch, to press his lips somewhere vulnerable and say I am watching out for you. “You are so deliberate, my love. So devoted. Everyone knows it, even if they don’t realise it outright.”

Keith’s breathing is laboured. “I’m not what they think I am,” he says, voice wrecked. Lance presses another kiss right on his adam’s apple, to his trachea, to the underside of his jaw, to his chin.

“You are more than you think you are.”

“I’m not. I’m not.” Lance kisses right under his ear, and he tastes salt, from where a tear finally escaped and trailed down his cheekbone. “I’m a mess, Lance. Nothing about me is stable. Why do they rely on me?”

“I rely on you.”

“That’s different. We’re — you’re my husband. We rely on each other.”

Lance pauses for a second, gathering his thoughts, considering his angle. How can he explain the fundamental truth about Keith Kogane that is so obvious to everyone who knows him? That is the clearest part of him?

“When Pidge wanted to run from Voltron and find her family, who convinced her to stay?”

Keith is silent.

“When Shiro had flashbacks of his year of torture and couldn’t tell reality from nightmare, who sat with him until he could breath again?”

Keith’s chin trembles.

“When the Blades were out of ideas and out of luck, who changed everything?”

His breathing gets heavier. “Lance —”

Lance ignores him, barrelling on. “When Hunk’s panic attacks got so bad he was convinced he was having a heart attack, who squeezed his hand until he could breath again?”

Keith sobs. “Lance, that’s not —”

Lance reaches up to gently wipe the tears, staring at his husband until he finally looks back, until indigo meets brown and he knows that Keith is finally getting it.

“Who,” he asks quietly, determined, “was it that I came to, when there were five lions and six paladins? Who stepped down for me?”

Keith laughs wetly. “I gave you the worst pep talk in the world,” he protests, but Lance can finally hear the acceptance in his voice. He smiles.

“And yet.”

“And yet,” Keith agrees. He ducks down and kisses Lance soundly, hands cupping his face, lips moving like he’s trying to fuse himself to Lance.

“Thank you. For knowing and watching and waiting for me.”

“Always,” Lance murmurs, pressing their foreheads together. “Always, my star.”

[iamstillovingyou]

spoilers! for joker and joker folie a deux

people saying Arthur was passive in the second movie yeah sure, because he has lost everything, remember? the funding for his therapy and medication got cut, he lost his job, he was beaten and repeatedly mocked for his laughing condition, all while taking care of his sick mother. Arthur kept up his delusions of being genuinely loved by a father figure or the neighbor. He asked for more pills because he couldn't handle feeling bad anymore, and he was already under heavy medication. He felt better at the hospital and even went inside the fridge. Arthur snapped in the worst way possible and the second movie is the repercussions of his actions. He became the Joker, but Arthur is still in there. Folie a Deux shows him coming to terms with what he has done. So it makes total sense to me why he would try to lay low and be quiet. You can see he doesn't interact much unless he is addressed first and the guards keep pestering him. Arthur is passive, he doesn't fight back, but Joker does. He is the one who takes action, who lashes out at people and gives them what they deserve. You can see that as Joker, Arthur is suave, whereas Arthur as himself is awkward. Arthur was genuinely concerned about his situation and Joker "saved" him. And Joker is loved.

The second movie opens with Arthur in Arkham and what is he doing? He is taking his medication, staying out of the way, but they won't let him alone. Again we have him on TV without truly listening to him. Once again, nobody cares about Arthur. He has done some thinking, but no one asks who he is now, as he says. Should we excuse the murders he committed? Of course not. We should recognize his attempt at accepting what he has done. However, in comes Lee, who arrests this development. Remember how Arthur wanted to be loved, he was so ready to be loved and so naive, that he allowed Lee to deceive him. Again, she does not care about Arthur because Arthur is a nobody, he has nothing - he found out in Joker 1 that he is adopted, he has lost his identity, he killed his abuser. So pardon him if he is trying to process all that trauma and does nothing at Arkham. You can see that Lee is confusing to him, on the one hand he loves her, on the other hand, she is misleading him to the point where he fires his lawyer. After even further trauma, Arthur is completely broken and realizes there is no going back, he cannot change anything, he cannot fix anything, Joker is unsustainable. Arthur might as well die - the same decision he made in the first movie.

(and at the end he is genuinely interested in the joke the inmate wants to tell him, he has such a warm smile on his face - something which no one ever did for him)

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 14 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I am so in love with this version of them <3

Warnings: Daddy Steve/Sir Eddie and Sub Plus Size Reader and all that implies (I regret nothing!), SMUT, ANGST, and FLUFF!, Spanking, degrading, edging, throat grabbing, smacking, Reader talks to her parents about her love for them (her dad gets into a fight; only the aftermath is mentioned), Eddie and Steve both briefly talk about their parents and trauma (mentions of child abuse and abandonment), Reader is bullied in this one (called names like whore, fat, pig) but the guys make a stand for her. Word Count: 6638

Your mom rises from the booth she was waiting in to give you a hug after you entered the restaurant you were supposed to meet in for lunch that afternoon. 

Steve and Eddie were extremely apprehensive about letting you go alone but you were able to find a middle ground, asking them to drop you off and then pick you up in two hours. 

The conversation started off a bit awkward with casual small talk being exchanged about school and the prom you went to put together by the three people you loved the most. After you both cleared your plates, you mom finally found the courage to ask some questions. 

“Did you know them before hand?”

“Kind of. It was more I knew OF them. We didn’t really become friends till the end of junior year and then got together later after summer.”

“Are they good to you?”

“Of course, mama. No one’s ever treated me the way they do. I love them so much.”

“Th-that’s what I don’t understand, Y/N. How can you love two people? Something HAS to get into the way.”

You shake your head as you lean back in your seat. “I don’t know how to explain it. Trust me, I thought about it a lot. Whenever I think ‘how can I love two completely different men’ the first images that come to mind are Steve going with us to movies he hates but he knows I like them. Him dancing with me in Eddie’s bedroom to a song on the radio or buying me different body washes and perfumes just because he thinks I’d like them. I think about Eddie’s face when he took me my first concert and sang obnoxiously loud with me as the band played.”, you giggle. 

“I see him whining when I’m trying to help him study but he still intently listens to me, making sure I know he appreciates me helping him. They both hold me after I wake up from a nightmare and listen to me when I cry. They take care of me and do whatever they can to make me smile.”, you shrug. “I love them.”

She chews on the inside of her cheek as she absorbs your words. “Did I ever tell you the first time your dad met your grandfather, the night ended with him in jail?”

Your eyes widen as you shake your head making her laugh. 

“He was only there for a day but, yeah, my dad HATED him. He said your father was ‘a dirty hippie who would never come close to being good enough’ for his daughter. God, I was so embarrassed.”

“How did dad end up arrested?”

“I told my father that I loved Rob and no matter what we were going to get married. He got angry and tried shoving him out the door. When I went to follow, he tugged me back, and hurt my arm so…your dad came back swinging.”, she smiles as she shrugs. “Definitely proved he wasn’t a hippie.”

Her grin grows when you laugh hard at her story. 

“I’m sorry, honey. I can’t imagine how hard this has been on you.”

“Yeah…”, you sighed. “Mr. Harrington hasn’t made it easier.”

“What did Bill do?” You filled her in on the rumor he started and how it spread through the school. How it led to the boys getting into a fight for you and everything else that followed. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch. He thinks he’s so high and mighty—”

“Mama!”, you giggle as you reach for her hand. “No. No killing. Honestly…it’s nice to hear you defend me…like you just did.”

“I know it doesn’t excuse what happened but the reason I didn’t before…I was just in shock…I didn’t…”

“No. I…it’s alright. I forgive you.” You look at your watch as your alarm beeps. “I should get going. The guys are picking me up.”

“May I walk you out?”

You beam at her as you nod. As soon as you both step outside, you’re met with Steve leaning on the driver’s side of his BMW with his arms folded as Eddie sits on the hood smoking a cigarette. 

“Charming.” She raises her eyebrow in their direction and they quickly scramble to attention making you smile. “Have you three found a place yet?”

“No ma’am. We went looking though near the campus. We thought that would be better so she could be near school while also being closer to Masie.”, Steve answered.

“Maze is staying at the dorms on campus.”, you explain when she glances your way before shifting her gaze towards Eddie. 

“I’m sorry my husband hurt you.”

The metalhead shrugs. “He didn’t hurt me. Would have hurt her though if he hit his intended target.”

Your mom looks away in shame. “I didn’t…He’s never…I never thought he would do something like that to you. We always said we would never hit our kids.” She sighs as you reach for her hand. 

“So did my father. It wasn’t so much ‘Hey honey. We’ll never hit our kids when we have them.’ But more ‘I know I beat the shit out him this time but I swear it will never happen again.’”

“Ed. It’s alright, bud.” Steve pats him on the back to calm him down. 

Without warning, your mother steps forward and grabs the metalhead’s chin firmly, forcing him to look at her. 

“Do you love my daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

He tries to turn out of her grasp but she just grips him tighter. 

“Yes ma’am.”

“Would you ever hurt her the way Allen did with you?”

Fire filled his eyes at her question. 

“No. Ma’am.”, he growled.

She nods before releasing him from her hold and turns to face Steve. 

“Do you love my daughter?”

“More than anything…ma’am.”

“Calm down, Mr. Harrington. This isn’t a popularity contest.” 

As she quizzed him, you stepped to Eddie’s side and intertwined your fingers with his as you laid your head on his shoulder. 

“Would you ever cheat on her and hurt her the way Bill does with your mother?” His head cocks to the side in surprise. “Not a big secret, sweetheart, I’m afraid.”

“No ma’am.”

“With all due respect, Steven, out of the two of you I’m more worried about her with you. I have eyes and ears. I know how big shot Steve Harrington ran around Hawkins showing off with different girls on his arm.”

This time, it was his turn to get angry.

“I’m not like that anymore. She…Y/N, made me want to be better.”

Her eyes softened at his admission, even more so when she took a step back and saw how you were with Eddie. 

“Did she tell you about Christian?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Fucking asshole.”

Your mom laughs at the metalhead’s choice of words. “You’re not wrong. Hear me boys, if you ever hurt my child, I will do way worse than what I did when it came to Mr. Wexler. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”, they respond in unison. 

She smiles before coming over to give you a hug. “I’ll talk to you later, ok? And I’ll talk to your father.”

“I’m sorry about that.”, you say to them after she leaves. “You two alright?”

“Yeah…are you?” You nod and wrap your arms around Steve as he comes to stand in front of you. “Was that normal? That integration style hello?”

“Um, I don’t know to be honest. You’re the first guys I’ve dated to really meet my parents.”

***

“Where have you been?”, your dad asks as your mom walks in the door.

“I had lunch with Y/N.” He responds with a hm before turning back to face the tv. “Rob, I think you should talk to her. She…she really does care about them and they genuinely seem to have her best interest in mind.”

“Bev, this is the last time I’m saying this. No.”

You mother sighs as she begins heading for the bedroom. “Apparently Bill is telling the town our ‘whore daughter’ brainwashed his son to use him for his money and status. When Steve confronted him, he said he couldn’t ‘use her properly’ because she’s not good looking and has no connections in town.” 

She watches as his fist on the arm rest of the couch clenches.

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

“Wow, this place is fucking amazing.”, Eddie murmurs under his breath.

“It really is.”, Steve agrees. “Can we afford it?”

“I think so. With all three of our incomes—”

“Oh my god! This place is beautiful and so close to the campus. It’s also not too far from the mall so you guys can sleep in before work.”, you smile as you sigh. “It’s perfect.”

It takes you a moment to realize that their faces don’t match yours. 

“It is perfect…right?”

Eddie returns your smile as he walks over to you to kiss your forehead. “Yeah, sweetheart. It is.”

“We don’t have to pick this one. I know there are some others we can try and—” His index finger cuts you off as he places it over your lips. 

“Do you like it?” You nod earnestly. “Well then, come on Harrington, I think we have some forms to fill out.”

***

“Yay! You three found an apartment.”, Masie claps as you beam at her from your side of the lunch table. “And you’ll be so close to. You’ll have to give me a tour after school some time before graduation next week.”

“Of course! And I found this place a couple of hours away, that has furniture for really cheap. It’s donated and it’s so nice. Eddie, can you reach in my bag and grab that brochure for that store for me?”

He gently nods as you and your friend keep talking while he digs in your backpack. A wadded piece of paper falls onto his lap and he quickly catches it, pausing as he takes a look. 

“My mom said she would help us move. I’m so excited—”

“The fuck is this?”

You all turn to look at the metalhead as he holds up the note in his hand.

“Oh, um, it’s nothing. You can throw that away.” As you reach over the table, he pulls his arm back, keeping it away from your grasp. 

“It’s nothing, huh? ‘Y/N Hawkins Fat Whore. Available for the right price. For recommendations see Freak Munson and Bitch Harrington. Fill out applications. Oh who are we kidding. She’ll have anyone. Just ask!’”

“Who the fuck gave you that?!”, Masie growled in anger.

“I don’t know…I found it in my locker.”, you answer in a small voice as your head fell. 

“When?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit.”, Steve grumbled.

When you finally found the courage to look their way, it was worse than you expected; they were fuming. You couldn’t tell if it was at you for not telling them or whoever left the note in your locker.

“How many times have you gotten something like this?”, Eddie asked.

You knew you were in trouble and didn’t see the point of hiding it anymore. Grabbing your bag, you pulled out a folder, flipping through papers till you found what you were looking for. You handed them to Steve who looked them over with his friend. 

“What’s it like fucking a freak? Does he summon the devil or draw symbols with pig’s blood?”

“I bet Harrington cums early every time. Too bad I don’t like fat chicks or I’d take care of you.”

“Ugly…disgusting…whore…slut…you should be ashamed…no wonder mommy and daddy don’t love you anymore.”

Steve’s jaw tightened; he recognized the handwriting. Abruptly, he rises from the table, gathering the papers in his hands as he heads straight for his old table, the popular kids table. Tommy is mid joke as the man slams the notes down with his palm startling everyone.

“Do you think you’re funny? Sliding these into her locker?”

“Steve, we have no idea—”

“You don’t even have the balls to say it to her face or mine. Don’t worry. I do. You leave her the fuck alone or I swear to God. I will make your lives hell and not just until graduation.”

“EVERYONE LISTEN UP!” Eddie climbed on to the popular kids table as he addressed the room. “That beautiful woman right there?”, he points to you. “She’s not our whore and we aren’t using her. We’re not Christian Wexler. We have no problem telling you assholes that Y/ N is ours. We love her and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you fuckers keep treating her like garbage. If Steve and I catch anyone sneaking these bullshit notes into her locker or making fun of her in any way we WILL have a problem!” 

He jumps back down onto the floor next to the other man and tears up the notes they left you. 

“Do you understand me?” Everyone looks down nodding their heads. “Oh, come on gang. Don’t get shy on me now. Wouldn’t want to summon the devil to come have a word with you.”

Their eyes widen as they verbally confirm his question before he tosses the torn up paper at Tommy. Both men come back to their seats and casually continue eating their food, heavily breathing as they try to calm down. 

“Munson…”, a male voice speaks his name as he slowly walks by your table. 

“Mr. C.”

“Problem?”

“No, sir. No problem here.”, he answers without looking his way. 

Your teacher nods before a little smile forms on his lips as he passes you by, lightly tapping your shoulder as he continues monitoring the room. 

It takes them awhile before they finally glance your way and notice you two smiling at them. 

“Calm down. You’re still in trouble.”, Eddie smirks as he tries to sound angry. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, well, we did.”, Steve huffs. 

Your grin grows as you slide your chair back and come around to sit on his lap. His arms immediately wrap around you as you circle yours around his neck. As you lean your forehead against his temple, he lets out a heavy exhale. 

“I love you.”, he mumbles.

“I love you to.”

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

“Hey, baby. Wow, you guys picked a good spot here.”, your mom grins as she enters the apartment.”

“Right? I love it. I was afraid we’d have to settle for something small which is fine. I just thought Eddie deserved a bigger space after growing up in that small trailer. Steve doesn’t care either way. He says he always thought his dad’s house was too big. I think it’s just because he spent so much time alone.”

Her smile grows as she listens to you talk. The more you speak about them the more she sees your genuine care for them, allow her to understand a bit more about your relationship. 

“Jesus Christ!”, Eddie exclaims as both men stumble through the door carrying a couch. “And…by that I mean—”

“It’s ok, Mr. Munson. You don’t have to suck up to me.” You mom laughs before turning her attention back to you. “After tomorrow you’ll officially be a graduate. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”, you giggle. “I’m just ready to leave those kids behind.”

A sudden knock startles everyone as your father slowly walks in. “This isn’t where you guys are putting the couch, right?”

Both boys turn to you, unsure of what to do. 

“Are you lost, Rob?”

You dad exhales as he playfully glares at your mom. “No, Bev. I just…I thought maybe…I don’t know…I’d see the place…It’s, uh, it’s nice.” As he pulls his hands out of his pockets to gesture around the area, you notice his knuckles are bleeding.

“Dad! Oh my god.” You don’t even think twice as you grab his arm and lead him over to the sink to wash his wound. Steve and Eddie exchange a glance before looking towards your mom who holds up her palm assuring them that everything is under control. “What happened? Steve, can you grab the stuff from the bathroom?”

He nods, disappearing and reappearing with things to take care of your father as you both sit at the table. Still not sure of how to proceed he and the metalhead sit across from you while your mom sits next to her husband on the end. 

“I, uh, went to talk to Harrington today. Not you…the other one.”, he follows as the boy looks at him confused. “Bev told me what he said at the bar and what you told her he said to Steven.” Your father shifts his gaze towards him before looking back down at his knuckles as you clean them with antiseptic. “Thank you…for trying to defend her.”

“I love her for her. I don’t care what she looks like or where she comes from.” Eddie lightly nods his head, agreeing with Steve’s words. 

“I went to his house and confronted him. Let’s just say he won’t be posing for any pictures anytime soon.” He chuckles but it fades as no one laughs along with him. While you wrap his cuts, he turns towards the other boy. “I’m sorry for hitting you.”

Eddie folds his arms over his chest. “Thanks but I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. That hit wasn’t meant for me.”

When he focused his attention back to you, your eyes were downcast as you placed your palms in your lap. Your father sighs as he leans back. 

“I AM sorry for…The whole situation was just…a lot. I don’t get it. I don’t think I ever will. When I met your mom, I knew I loved her. I couldn’t picture loving anyone else. How can you…I mean?”

“That’s how I feel about them. I…”, you shrug as you try to find the right words. “I can’t explain it. Since the first conversation we had, I knew there was something about them.”

 “I just…I had no idea. I never thought you would ever do something like this. Where’s the line, Y/N? I mean what else are you capable of?”

“She’s capable of anything.”, Eddie answers. “That shouldn’t scare you. You should be proud of her. She’s not afraid anymore. When we met her, she was so timid to the point that she would literally fold into herself so people would leave her alone. Look at her now. She got into college, her own place, she’s actually fucking smiling…sorry.”

Your mom smirks as he apologizes.

“Dad, I’m not…running around having a relationship with everyone. We aren’t going to add people to our dynamic. I love THEM. If we…we broke up…I wouldn’t go searching for two people to be with again. It’s not a preference. It just is.”

Your father nods as he leans back in his seat before his eyes meet yours briefly and he softly smiles. “So is it just the couch you guys got today or is there more?”

“Um, her bed is in the truck outside.”

“Well, come on, gentlemen. Let’s get the last of the stuff up here.”

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

“Alright, freaks and weirdos of the class 1984, smile!” Steve holds up the polaroid and takes a picture before handing it back to Masie. You giggle as he obnoxiously shakes the image in his hand. 

“We are finally free and I am so excited!”, your best friend grins as she does a little dance. “How does it feel, Munson? You were almost held back.”

“Yeah, thanks to princess here, I made it by the skin of my fucking teeth.” Smiling you lean over and kiss his cheek. 

“I’m glad BOTH your parents decided to come, Y/N.”

“Me to.” You sneak a glance at Steve as his eyes shift down to the risers you four were sitting on. “I’m sorry yours didn’t.”

He flashes you a slanted smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to bring your closer to his side as he kisses the top of your head. “Even if they didn’t hate me right now, I don’t think they would have come. All this stuff is beneath him.”

“Well, I’m proud of you; both of you.” 

Eddie grabs your hand, bringing the back of it to his lips.

“Jesus Christ, Ed. Can’t you ever just look fucking normal for a picture for once?”, Steve asks after the polaroid finally displayed the image he took. 

“What are you talking about, Harrington? That is how I normally look.”

“Do you want to hang out tonight?”, you ask Masie as she hands the photo back to the boys. 

“I can’t tonight. I…have a date.”

“Ooo…with who?”

“None of your business, Munson.”, she answers playfully before whispering towards you. “I’ll tell you later.”

***

The three of you lay haphazardly on your bed in your apartment as you pass the joint Eddie rolled back and forth. Steve happily sighs from his spot on your stomach that he is using as a pillow while you absently run your fingers through his hair. Your own head is resting on the metalhead’s lap as he leans his back against the headboard. 

“We got you present, sweetheart.”

“You got me something? Aw, you guys didn’t have to. You graduated to.”

“Oh, trust me, honey. This is also a present for us.”, the other boy laughs as Eddie slides off the bed. After disappearing into the living room, he comes back with a box, and hands it to you. 

“Open it in the bathroom and put it on.”

You nod as you thank him, scurrying into the bathroom to do what he asked. Lifting the top off the lid on your present, you gasp at the silky, purple material you find within. As you raise it towards the light, you notice most of the lingerie garment is see-through except some purposely placed designs that block the area of your nipples. The matching panties conceal all the major bits but when you slide them on you notice they still display a lot of your ass. 

This is completely new territory for you and as you stare at yourself in the mirror you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious.

“Babe? Are you alright in there?”, Eddie asks. 

“Um, yeah…”

“Uh oh. Is that self-doubt I’m hearing?” A breathy giggle escapes your lips. They both know you to well. “Get your sexy ass out here.”

With one final sigh, you open the bathroom door and display the gift they had bought you. They had both been sitting on the edge of the mattress waiting for you, their eyes lighting up when the land on you and your body. 

“I-I’ve never worn anything like this before.”

“Well, we’ll definitely be buying more. God damn, Y/N.” Steve places his hand over his chest as he exhales heavily. “You look so fucking gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”, you blush. 

Eddie grins as he beckons you with his finger to come closer, grabbing your hips and yanking you onto his lap with your back against his chest. His arms wrap around you as he leans his chin on your shoulder. 

“You do look stunning.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Mmm—so polite. I love it. Can you do me a favor, pretty girl?”

“Of course. Anything.”

The metalhead’s lips kiss your cheek before hovering outside the shell of your ear. “Can you touch yourself for us?”

“I-I-In front of you?”, you asked in a small voice that had both men trying to hide their groans. 

“Yes, sweetheart.” Gripping your hand, he sticks two of your fingers in his mouth, wetting them with his saliva. “Right here on Master’s lap. Take these two fingers and rub your clit for us.”

After moving the piece of silk covering your core, you do has he asks, moaning as you press slow circles against your nub.

“That’s our girl. Does that feel good?”

“Yes, Sir, it feels good.” 

“Fuck, princess, you drive us crazy.”, Eddie mewls. “Now, I want you to slide them into your tight little pussy for me and keep moving them as we talk to you, okay?”

“Mmm—yes, Sir.”

“How do you want it tonight, Y/N? Do you want Daddy and I to be nice and gentle?”

“Or…” Steve’s soothing voice shot straight to you core making you clench around your digits. “Do you want us to fuck you hard and rough like a whore? It’s been so long since we’ve done that.”

“Fuck.”, you whimper as you thrust your fingers at a much faster pace. “F-fuck me like you guys did—mmm—that first time w-we were together.”

They both laugh as Eddie’s palm glides up your skin from your wrists up to your throat, turning your face so his mouth is hovering over your own.

“We can do that. You have to make yourself cum first though, baby.” Your eyes flutter closed as you lean back against his chest. “You know, I think about the first time when I’m playing with myself to. I picture you flat on the desk with your mouth open for me; moaning around my dick while Steve fucked you.” Eddie licked his lips as he smiled. 

“Personally, I like to think about the first time I called you and you touched yourself just like this. Fuck, just hearing you moan about how you belong to us and how sore you were from us fucking you.” Steve’s fingers reached out to trace your skin along your thigh and you mewl at the contact.

You needed them now, pumping your fingers as fast as you could till you felt legs shake as the coil snapped. While you were panting against his cheek, Eddie gripped your wrist and held out your hand to the boy beside him who graciously ran his tongue over your messy digits, humming at the taste. 

A sly grin spread across your face as you get off the man’s lap and stand to face them. 

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”, Steve asked with a smile of his own. 

“I was just thinking that you guys got to ask me…maybe I should ask you…which version of me do you want? Do you want meek Y/N you fucked that first night or sassy, slightly bratty Y/N?”

You giggle when they glance at each other with a small smirk. You already know their answer before they say anything. Today was a good day and they didn’t exactly need you to fully obey right away. It had been a while since they needed to put you in your place and remind you who was in charge.

“Oooh, you guys are taking a little too long to answer.”, you sing as you make a playful thinking face. “Hm. Maybe I should go introduce myself to the neighbors in this gorgeous piece of lingerie. Maybe they can actually make a decision.” 

“Do it.”, Eddie challenges.

“Don’t think I won’t, Sir.” You slowly back up towards the living room and inch your way to the door. They get up to follow you and you bite your bottom lip as Steve glides a head of you to lean against the wall. 

“We’ll go on then.”, he gestures towards the door. “Here let me help you.” As he reaches for the knob, you quickly block it with your body. 

“Steve!” His eyes widen as his head tilts and you quickly cover your mouth.

“Oooh, baby. You just went all in, didn’t you?”, he muses as he slides behind you and wraps his arms around to your front. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, honey, but we still have to punish you, right Ed?”

“You’re right, Steve.”

“Did we ever find handcuffs that won’t hurt our beautiful girl?”

“Not yet BUT I did read this thing in a book that offered some alternatives.” The air hits your back as Steve steps away and a little moan leaves your lips at the sound of Eddie taking off his belt. Leather wraps around your wrists and after a few moments you find yourself restricted. 

“How is that, sweetheart?”

“Why are you asking, Sir? You can hurt me tonight. I want you to be rough with me.”

Calloused fingers abruptly grip your chin and turn your head to face him. 

“It doesn’t matter why I’m fucking asking. If I ask you something, you answer. Now, how does that feel, little girl?”

“It feels fine.”

“Good.” He releases you from his hold and pushes your front half over the arm of the couch. “Jesus, I’m going to stop being nice and just call you demeaning names all night. You want to act like a bratty baby we can treat you like one.” Eddie’s hand comes down hard on your ass making you jump.

The sudden sound of vibration causes you to sit up to look behind you but the metalhead is prepared, shoving you again and slapping your behind. “Don’t move.”, he growls.

Long fingers move the silk panties covering your sex and you whimper when the wand finds you clit. They love that device, becoming almost giddy every time they use it. The reaction and moans it pulls from you tortures them as much as it does you but they can hold it together better than you can. 

“Yes…yes Daddy. Please.”

“Does that feel good, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy.” 

“Tell me when you’re about to cum.”

“I’m…I’m gonna…” Abruptly, he pulls the wand away and smacks your ass. “No, no. Please…”

“What? You said you wanted it like that first night.”, Eddie snickered as he placed his naked body on the couch in front of you. “You think we cared if you came? It was just an added bonus that you did. Plus you wanted to act like a brat. Do brats get to cum, Stevie?”

“No, Ed, they do not.” 

The metalhead watched with a gleam in his beautiful brown orbs as his friend pressed the device against your nub again, slowly building you up and then pulling it away before you could climax. It felt like it lasted forever as you panted and cried over Eddie’s lap. His hands brush over your hair, pulling it out of your face as he watched the frustration in your eyes. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You have no idea how much this turns me on. Sometimes even I forget that we control that pretty pussy of yours.”

“Munson, how can you forget something like that?”, Steve chided as he smacked your ass making you moan.

“No, no Harrington. Not the physical part, I mean obviously her cunt is ours. We own her but the fact that only we can make you moan like you are right now. That only we can allow you to cum…fuck… hearing you beg for it.” He bites his lip before leaning forward to capture your own. 

“Please…”

“Please what?”

“Please, Sir. I want to cum.”

“You want to cum?”

“Y-yes, Sir. Please.” 

Steve moves the wand again just as your about to, turning off the device and setting it aside as you whine. Eddie’s hand connects with your cheek at the sound. 

“Stop fucking pouting.”

“Hey Ed, you know what I was just thinking? You’ve never had her ass, have you?”

“Not yet, no.” He leans back till he’s flat on the couch. “May want to wet it a bit.”, he grins holding the base of his cock. Climbing up, you rest your body on your knees as you tilt forward and envelope him into your mouth.  

“Baby girl, come on. You can do better than that.” You gasp as Steve’s massive palm holds the back of your head and shoves you forward onto Eddie’s length making you gag and drool around him. 

“Fuck me.” He grunts as you choke before scoffing and tugging you off him by your throat. “What are you doing?! Are you still being a fucking brat?”

“N-no, Sir.”

“Then why are you sucking my dick like you’ve never done it before? A little slut like you should know how to do it properly by now!”

You whine as you bounce on your knees and he smacks you again.

“Color baby?”

“Green, Daddy.”

“She’s fine, Steve. She’s being a pain in the ass right now because we haven’t allowed her to cum yet.”

“Wasn’t that the first thing we did?”

“She doesn’t count that, do you, princess? These little fingers are just too small to make her cum as hard as we do.” Grabbing your throat again, he forces you to face him. “Now, suck my cock correctly or neither of us are going to make you feel good tonight. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

*SMACK* “Louder!”

“Yes, Sir, I understand!”

As soon as he releases you, you take him in your mouth again, this time flattening your tongue and bobbing your head with the same energy you know makes him moan. 

“See? Just like that, baby.”

Fingers move your hair to the side as Steve speaks to you with his low Daddy voice that has you clenching your thighs together. 

“It’s not just about pleasure, little miss. Remember, you need him as lubricated as possible so he doesn’t hurt you.” He grins as you push Eddie to the back of your throat, holding still for as long as you can before pulling your head off him and spitting salvia onto his tip. “See, Ed? Little girl just needs a guiding hand is all.”

“Uh huh.”, the metalhead smirks as he leans up and brings your lips to his before using his thumb to wipe the tears that were smeared under your eyes. “A guiding hand to the ass maybe.” He softly smiles as he jokingly spanks you. “Turn around.”

You do as he asks while he places some strategic pillows behind his head allowing him to sit up slightly. After guiding your back to his chest, he opens your legs and positions you just so before reaching down to grab his cock. 

“Can you hold yourself open for me, baby?” 

“I-I can’t.”

Eddie grunts in annoyance as he pushes you up slightly, yanking the belt from your wrists and throwing it to the ground. As soon as your free, you do what he asks and help guide him into your ass. 

“F-Fuck me.” 

Steve waits a few moments, allowing you both to get comfortable before climbing between your legs. Gliding his tip through your folds you shuttered as he grazed your clit. Your eyes rolled back and closed as he sheathed himself inside of you, your back collapsing against Eddie’s chest as you allowed them to take over. 

Each thrust was like a little taste of heaven. Eddie was right, they controlled your pleasure. No one could ever make you feel as good as they did. When you glanced up at Steve you noticed he was fighting to keep his eyes open. 

“Da-Daddy, are you okay?”

“Mmm—yeah. You just—fuck—you look so fucking beautiful. I don’t want to take my-my eyes off of you.”

You felt one of your legs drop flat against the metalhead’s as his hand came up to turn your face so he could kiss your lips. 

“So…so beautiful.”, he echoed his friend.

“I love you, Eddie.”, you panted against his lips. 

He heavily moaned as he wrapped both arms around you tightly and begin ramming his hips hard up into yours. 

“I love you to, Y/N. Cum, baby. Fucking cum hard on our cocks.”

Steve’s palm held on to your shoulder for leverage as he matched Eddie underneath you. You moaned and begged until the coil that they had been winding all night finally snapped and you cried as you came hard. 

“Yes! Good girl. Such a…good…girl.” With a few more rough thrusts, Steve warmed your insides with Eddie following shortly after. 

“Jesus Christ…that was amazing.” They carefully pulled out of you and the metalhead continued to hold you against his chest while the other boy went to grab some water. 

“I’m sorry I said you name.”

Eddie tilted his head so he could see your face better. “Sweetheart, hearing you tell me you love me whether it be Sir, Master, Eddie, or freak…”, he smiles when you giggle. “It’s the best thing in the world.”

“I’ve never thought you were a freak. Even before I knew you.”

Steve grabbed your wrist and slowly moved you onto the cushions so you both could sit up. After gulping down the water he brought you, you leaned on his shoulder, placing a kiss on his skin. 

“You really do look beautiful in this by the way.” He runs his fingers down the silky material.

“Thank you, Daddy. It’s actually surprisingly comfortable. May I ask you something?”

“Of course, but ask it in the shower because we need to clean you and believe it or not we can all fit in this tub.”

“Harrington, if we wanted to shower with me all you had to do was ask.” You laugh at Eddie’s joke as you grab his hand and tug him off the couch as you follow the other man to the bathroom. 

“What did you want to ask, honey?” 

A small smile paints your lips as you watch them try to figure out how to get you out of your outfit before finally just grabbing the bottom and pulling it over your head. 

“Does it bother you that your parents didn’t show up today?”

“No.”

“Not even your mom? She didn’t really have a reason to not—”

“Yes, she did. She does whatever my father tells her to.”, he snapped.

You nodded as you pushed your back into Eddie’s chest.

“Steve, she was just asking because she cares. It’s a little weird I know. Having a woman in our lives who actually gives a damn.”

He sighs as he guides you under the water. “No, not even my mom. Y/N, kind of like Munson here, my parents stopped parenting pretty early on. Honestly, I’m used to it by now. I know that sounds harsh but it’s true. I think it would have angered me if they had shown up like they helped me accomplish something.”

Your hands reach out to gently cup his face. “I just don’t want you to feel like…no one was proud of you.”

He softly smiles before kissing your forehead. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I know, baby. I know.”

“I would have liked for your dad to be there if only to see what her dad did to his face.”

The three of you laugh as the begin to clean your body. 

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

Eddie has his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you two watch an action movie on tv. 

“I could be a spy.”

“No, you couldn’t! Everything about you is so loud.”, you giggle. 

“Oh, come on! I can totally be suave like James Bond.”

“Yeah, you could.”

“You can be my Money Penny.”

Steve nonchalantly exits the bedroom and grabs a banana from the counter, leaning his back against it as he eats. The two of you continue to stare ahead but the man can still see the grins on your faces that you both are trying to hide. 

“Ok. Go ahead. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

“Are you ready for your first day, sailor?” Eddie’s toothy grin grows when you try to stifle your laugh. 

“Don’t listen to him, Daddy. I think you look sexy.”

“Yeah, I mean way those little blue shorts accentuate your knees, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”, Steve smirks as he throws away his peel and saunters over to you to give you a kiss before lightly pushing his friend’s head. “I’ll see you two later.”

“We definitely need to get you one of those.”, Eddie chuckles as the other man leaves and you playfully shove his chest.

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

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @eddiesguitarskills

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[scoops-aboy86]

frat boy Steve has a funnel because some of his housemates like chugging beer that way.

he notices his new plug Eddie goes a little stupid the first time he gets it out...

Okay, keeping in mind that I have no knowledge of frats beyond what I’ve seen on TV and movies… (Lol, and I had to ask what plug meant, but shhhhh no I didn’t.)

Being allowed to enter frat president Steve’s room for the first time felt like winning the lottery, and that’s never entirely worn off. Even now that he’s been there often enough that he can close his eyes and picture the room, Eddie’s heart rate always picks up a little bit whenever he enters. 

He notices immediately when he spots the new thing, and stupidly blurts out, “What’s that?”

“Huh?” Steve cranes his neck to see what Eddie’s looking at. “Oh, that. Some of the guys wanted a funnel for chugging beer, so I got one. Kind of keeping it on the back burner until someone brings it up again, though… I really don’t trust Billy or Tommy not to land their asses in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. Bad look for the whole frat.”

“Right,” Eddie says with a forced laugh, “you’ve gotta prove your worthiness to earn The Funnel.”

After selling Steve all the weed and party favors he wants at the usual pretty boy discount (not that Steve knows about that), Eddie goes home and contemplates The Funnel. He packs a bowl, sucking huge lungfuls of smoke from his bong like it’s something else, and… okay, yeah, he wants to earn it. Doesn’t have to be beer—actually, he would kind of prefer if it’s not, would want to stay fully present and aware the whole time while Steve fills him up. 

So Eddie gets high off his ass (he doesn’t need to be fully present now, because Steve isn’t here) and drinks all the Mt Dew in his fridge, imagining with every gulp that it’s Steve pouring the fizzy liquid down his throat. A hand on his belly to feel himself expand. He’s not ripped or anything but he’s on the skinner side, so when the bloat starts to hit it’s noticeable; he whimpers a little when he has to unbutton his jeans to give himself more room. Drinks as much as he can but just knows that Steve would be able to coax more into him. Gets uncomfortable in a way that scratches an itch he usually doesn’t even notice, squirming and burping and whining for the perfect unattainable guy who’d never go for someone like him and is probably straight anyway. 

He feels a little weird after he comes and has cleaned himself up, and not because all that pop is still sloshing around in his belly whenever he moves. But… he can still be normal around Steve, right? Whatever, he’ll make it work. His livelihood kind of depends on being able to compartmentalize. 

~

Steve hasn’t been buying from Eddie all that long—a couple months, since the frat’s previous connection, Reefer Rick, got arrested—but he likes him. Likes his mischievous grins and the funny voices he often slips into for emphasis when they’re talking about things besides business. They have nothing in common, from family structure and socioeconomic class to their fundamentally clashing jock vs nerd interests, so Steve hasn’t been able to figure out an excuse to interact with him outside of transactions before a party… Maybe he’s nudged the number of parties the frat hosts up a bit for that reason. It’s not a big deal. 

Recently Eddie has been… strange. And that’s saying something for a guy whose nickname is The Freak. There’s something new in his eyes when he looks at Steve, though Steve can’t figure out what it is. He stands closer, grins wider, and that theatrical streak toes more and more over then line into is he flirting with me territory. 

Which, you know, Steve wouldn’t mind. He’s in college now, old enough and confident enough in his social circles that he’d feel okay with coming out as bisexual to his friends. (Not his parents, no way, not while they’re paying his tuition and still think he’s studying business rather than education. All that is precarious enough as it is, no need to add more fuel to the eventual, inevitable fire. But who tells their parents everything, really?) It’s just, Steve doesn’t want to make the first move, anxious that his first actual pursuit of a guy might falter and eat shit right out of the gate. 

The other thing is, Eddie is really weird about his beer funnel. Which is still unused, sitting up on a shelf over his desk. Steve always notices Eddie looking at it first thing when they go into his room. Sometimes he keeps glancing at it periodically until the deal is over and he leaves, but more often he sits off-center on Steve’s desk (usually clean, but Eddie sits regardless of clutter, the charming weirdo) directly under the thing. He squirms a lot when he does that, even for Eddie. Pulls his curly hair over his mouth to hide smiles more. Bites and licks his lips more often, which is just killing Steve a little bit. 

What is it about the funnel? He never got the impression that Eddie is a partier, considering how he never comes to even the open parties, even when Steve invites him. 

And then he starts to notice it. 

The way Eddie is filling out more. It’s subtle, but as the weeks go by Steve can see the way his shirt and pants are fitting differently. 

It looks good. 

~

Eddie has been going through a lot of Mt Dew since that first time. It just feels good, that bubbly stretch inside him—though sometimes he just does it with water, instead. It’s not quite as satisfying without the sugar high and the caffeine, but it's cheaper. 

What he hasn’t noticed is the way his stomach is starting to stay stretched. How he starts trending towards seeking that same kind of fullness when he eats, though the feeling is different… Firmer, heavier, like an anchor. Good in a different way.

It’s harder to picture Steve feeding him, though, so overeating is more of a slowly forming background habit. His brain feels permanently stuck on the whole funnel thing, like it won’t rest until he experiences it in action in Steve’s hands for real. He sees it when he goes to sleep at night. Sees it any time he blinks, really, leaving him feeling constantly both horny and empty. 

His ‘real’ job is bartending at a place on campus, which ranges from lattes and smoothies during the day to taps and cocktails at night, and he keeps finding himself gulping water or pop or glorified fruity milkshakes whenever he has a minute to do so. Seeing a guy with hair like Steve prompts him to take his fifteen out back, chain smoking cigarettes and pounding down Mt Dew again like that’s his job. His boss only cares that he’s not getting into the booze on the clock, which he’s not, so… no problem there. But Eddie feels constantly distracted, his carefully constructed compartments that keep his jobs and his personal life all separate starting to break down the further he sinks into daydreaming. 

So when Steve invites him to one of the frat parties, like he always does… Eddie actually goes. It’s a night he has off, and what else was he supposed to do? Sit around at home, anxiously snacking and filling himself up like a fleshy water balloon, when he could be a nervous wreck in public instead?! Why not!!

Steve finds him in the crowd surprisingly quickly and yells something over the shitty house music that suggests he’s happy to see him. Great! Then the guy disappears just as fast, and Eddie wants to wilt. Wants to slink right back out and not even go home, just dig himself a hole somewhere and live there instead. God, he’s an idiot—

But Steve is back, grinning his perfect grin and holding The Funnel, and Eddie is a weak man. He can only hope his black jeans are adequately disguising his raging hard-on as he accepts Steve’s mimed offer and follows him to the nearest plentiful source of beer. 

~

Steve is second guessing himself. But it’s not a move to bring out the beer funnel when Eddie’s clearly curious about it, right? That’s not flirting. 

Right?

Either way, though, it’s already happening. The end of the hose is between Eddie’s lips, which Steve had not anticipated somehow, is not thinking about… will likely think about later, but that’s Future Steve’s problem.

So they settle by one of the tapped kegs and Steve pours. Watches as Eddie’s eyes stay on him, but go a little glazed the more he gulps. Watches for any need to pause and give him some air, but never sees any sign of Eddie in distress. When he feels like it’s been enough he stops, and Eddie keeps staring expectantly at him for a moment before releasing the tube with a wet pop. 

“That all you’ve got, Harrington?” Eddie asks with a lazy grin and a confidence that isn’t cocky at all, just easy surety of being able to take more.

“Is that a challenge, Munson?” Steve shoots back, raising an eyebrow. He kind hopes it is; he likes a challenge. Likes Eddie too, but knows himself well enough to know that he’d take it even if he didn’t. He didn’t ascend to the presidency of this fraternity on sheer good looks and family money, no matter what the rumors might say. 

Eddie smirks, and now he looks cocky. (Steve wants to lick the expression right off his face and learn how it tastes.) “Tell you what, stand a little closer so I can tap out if I need to and we’ll find out. One for good, keep going; two for slow down; three for stop.” He spreads his legs a little and pats his belly where it rounds out a little over his waistband. “I’ll show you just how much I can take.”

Mindful of what could happen if Eddie does this on too empty a stomach, Steve makes him eat a big plate of nachos from the extensive snack table in the main room. Feels a flicker of heat in his core when Eddie takes the plate with a grin and a jaunty “Thanks, Steve,” an ember fanned into brightness at the sight of every bite of it passing methodically through those tempting lips. Especially any time he licks and sucks his own fingers clean, holy shit.

Then Steve stands close, and pours, and Eddie taps once. And Steve pours, and Eddie keeps going. Tap. And Steve pours, and Eddie keeps going. Tap. And Steve pours…

They’re starting to develop an audience. Cheers and whoops whenever Eddie gestures for more, obviously hamming it up for the crowd because if there’s anyone Steve’s ever met that lives for attention, it’s this guy. But his eyes remain mostly on Steve, especially when either of them move—like Eddie is watching to see if he’s watching when he shifts his legs to give his gradually expanding belly more room. 

Of course Steve is watching. Like, he has to glance away sometimes to make sure he’s not missing the top of the funnel while he pours the beer in, but for the most part his eyes are glued to that generous swell, the way Eddie’s band tee is starting to tighten at his middle and ride up a little, the little spill of his love handles over either side of his jeans. He has no idea if it’s on purpose or if Eddie has just kind of skipped over noticing that his clothes are getting a little small, because either way he kind of wants to kneel down and… and bite him, or something. But like, in a nice way. Leave a few hickeys, maybe. Stake a claim, if Eddie is cool with that. 

None of which he can do right now, because he has to hold the funnel up. 

He sees Eddie squirming in his seat a little and pauses, thinking it might be time to call it, but Eddie slaps Steve’s thigh immediately, once. His pupils are blown wide, gaze dark and a little unfocused, but the look very clearly says don’t you dare stop.

And, well. Steve is getting hard in his chinos, and he can’t stop that either. Because Eddie is really enjoying this, and it’s causing him to think back over all the times the guy has been in his room and sat right under the shelf where the funnel was. Subliminal messaging, maybe? Trying to get Steve to do this for him. For weeks. God, if Eddie had just said something, Steve would’ve done this the first goddamn day. 

~

When Eddie finally does tap out, he’s almost too bloated to take a bow as the onlookers cheer. Almost. He’s a consummate showman, what can he say? But just a little one, because the pressure when he bends is almost too much, and he’d kind of forgotten about the downside of doing this with beer. The room is a little unsteady around him, and he barely realizes it’s because he’s swaying a bit, despite the nachos, until Steve puts a steadying hand on his arm. 

He sees the funnel in someone else’s hands, the next volunteer already taking the chair he’d just vacated, and opens his mouth to protest, but Steve pulls him away with a quick “I’ll get a new one for you, for just you” murmured in his ear. Relaxing, Eddie lets himself be led. 

So Steve noticed, then. And wants to do it again, it sounds like? That’s good. That’s sooo good, Eddie thinks happily, even as he has to get his hands under his sloshing belly to hold it as they walk. God, his jeans are really digging into him—overdid it, but it feels fucking amazing. 

Steve takes him to his room and guides him to sit on the bed. The door is shut, Eddie thinks? Maybe even locked, if frat house rooms even have locks. He doesn’t really care, not when every iota of his being is focused on getting his jeans unbuttoned, belly pushing the zipper down in its rush to spread out. 

“Shit,” Steve whispers, standing over him and taking all of him in. “You didn’t have go so hard, you know…”

“Wanted to,” Eddie grunts, getting his hands in between denim and heated skin to lift his belly the rest of the way out, running his fingers over the red impression of seams and waistband on his skin with a shiver. When he’s so full like this, every sensation on his stretched gut is magnified by a hundred. He barely restrains himself from reaching underneath and palming his dick, flush with what the feeling is doing for him, but he wants to. God, even with—especially with—Steve watching. It already feels like he’s gone wild, gone totally crazy, so why not?

Fuck it. He gropes himself in front of frat president Steve fucking Harrington, letting out a moan at the sensation. 

“Shit,” Steve says again, breathes it really, and then suddenly he’s on his knees before Eddie and reaching to settle his big hands on the sides of Eddie’s swollen, churning belly. Pressing just enough that Eddie lets out a belch that trails off into another moan, leans into it and belches again. Steve’s touch doesn’t falter; if anything, the expression on his face gets even more intense. “You like this.”

It’s not a question. 

“Yes,” Eddie answers anyway, panting, leaning back on his hands and letting Steve take over. “Wanted it to be you, ever since—”

“Since I got that funnel?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, half in response to the way Steve is moving his palms in slow circles over taut skin, tipsy and warm and spreading his legs wider, meeting Steve’s molten hazel gaze with his own heated stare. “Wanted to earn it. How’d I do?”

Steve hesitates. “Well, uh…” He licks his lips. “How drunk are you right now?”

“Not so drunk that you should feel like you’re taking advantage.” Eddie puts in the effort to sit up straight again, aware of the way his t-shirt has rucked up to leave his bulging navel on full display and preening a little when he realizes Steve is staring. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, Steve. Hope that doesn’t weird you out or anything, I swear I don’t usually get this way about anyone I deal to… So I’ve been trying to keep a lid on it but, well.” He lays a hand on the top of his belly, scratching lightly where it juts out like a shelf under his soft pecs. “Guess I just can’t help myself.”

That’s all Steve needs, apparently, to dip forward and put the first love bite of many on Eddie’s belly, teeth nipping at the layer of soft fat gathering there with a groan. 

~

The next morning, Steve rolls out of bed at the crack of noon and runs out to get a new funnel and pick up a large order from the nearest all-day breakfast place, so Eddie can have something great to wake up to. He’s going to spoil the hell out of this guy, and who knows. Maybe by the end of the day he’ll get Eddie to agree to be his boyfriend. 

(Eddie, bolstered by a full tummy and endorphin high from all the eating and sex, actually asks first. Steve does a little fist pump anyway because hell yeah, he got his man! And then helps Eddie finish his tall stack of pancakes.)

Permanent tag list (ask to be added): hotluncheddie who sent this ask 😜, @tangerinesteve @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax

[sharpth1ng]

Hi!

So I rewatched scream recently after having read debaser four times (since November last year no I am not okay) and idk if you've already been asked this but: if you could write scream without making changes to the pov and stuff like that what would you change (if anything at all)?

Because when I was watching it I realised that I like the plot of debaser better (not necessarily because of the romance, but just on the murders and everything) and idk if that's just because you're an amazing writer (which you are BTW your writing is literally perfect I don't even know how you do it) or if it's because of how you made small details of the story make more sense or even because the killer pov works better? Idk

So yeah I'm really curious on how you would do it both on a story and on a cinematography level!!!

(also sorry if that did not make any sense I'm mostly rambling 'cause I have a lot of thoughts)

Hey, first off thank you that's so, so sweet! Second, this is a really interesting question.

Honestly theres not a whole lot I would change about scream, a lot of it is little stuff that wouldn't necessarily be a big difference in the final product. I wouldn't change much about the cinematography really, so many of the shots in this movie are made in homage to other horror movies and I love those. They feel like easter eggs.

Some examples:

Gale nearly hitting a blood-drenched sid and swerving around her matches the scene in Carrie (1976) where she almost gets hit by a car and they swerve (a bunch of the shots in these scenes are pretty matched to each other)

Caseys hanging and Pat's hanging in Suspiria (1977)

Casey's phone call and like, all of When a Stranger Calls (1979)

Billy sneaking in Sid's window and Glen sneaking in Nancy's window in A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) - especially because Skeet was partly cast for his resemblance to Glen

This isn't even a fraction of the shot references in the movie, let alone references in dialogue, cameos from other horror movies (Linda Blair has a cameo as a reporter and Sherrif Burke is also Sargent Parker in Nightmare on Elm Street), or just movies and pop-culture references seen in the background. Like it would take me forever to list them all. I honestly can't express how satisfying and dense Scream (1996) is as a fan of horror. It goes so much further than the movies actually explicitly mentioned.

ANYWAYS. All that was just to say I wouldn't change a lot about the cinematography.

A lot of what I would change has to do with tightened plot elements. One of the things that does frustrate me about the movie is how vague Billy and Stu's alibi's are after Casey's death. I don't need them to be perfect, but we know the cops talked to them the next day at school, and later when Billy is at the police station they seem surprised to find out he left his house that night. The fact that he either lied about that or left it out would have been a major red flag for the cops, and it just seems like something you would want to consider if you're planning to get yourself arrested and betting on being released. Basically I think that should have been something he revealed when questioned by the cops at school.

A number of other details I would change mostly have to do with off-screen events, but they would alter minor stuff on screen in a way that I think would make the plot more satisfying as it unfolds. Basically I just wish Kevin Williamson had decided who did which kill. It's obvious that he decided that it didn't need explaining since it was off screen and the protagonist wouldn't have access to that information. I don't even need it to be shot that differently, I don't need Skeet or Matt in the costume instead of a stunt man to give us a sense of who is who, I just want it to be physically possible for them to get around in a way that makes sense. It should be something that can be reasoned out in a consistent way if you pay enough attention.

This is particularly a problem for me with Himbry's death and hanging, and with the chase sequence at the house. Like Ghostface kills Kenny, watches Sid run away... doesn't chase her? Like he would be behind yeah, but also she's the main target and she seems to be running down the driveway. Instead he hides Kenny's body and goes back into the house? Why? Where did Randy go and why didn't he leave through the front door? Was Ghostface just waiting inside the house for Dewey instead of going and trying to find Randy or Sid? All of this feels a little sloppy to me since we know the phones in the house work. Any of those people could be calling 911.

Another moment like this is the one where Sid gets attacked in the washroom. A lot of people take that to be Billy given the fight they've just had in the hallway, but the timing of the scene seems to follow directly after that fight. Sid walks away from him, so if she's walking directly to the washroom he's behind her, how is he going to get into the washroom and hide in on of those stalls without her noticing if he has to come in after her? This also just seems unnecessarily risky for him, given how cautious he is otherwise.

I prefer the idea that this attack isn't actually a real ghostface, it's one of the ghostface copycats we see running around (one of the two dudes we see Himbry disciplining). In the original script the scene in the washroom comes directly after Billy and Sid's fight in the hallway, with the scene of Himbry yelling at the two fake ghostfaces following after the washroom instead of the hallway fight. To me this suggests that at least in the original script, these two likely got caught harassing Sid in the washroom and thats what Himbry is disciplining them for. I really don't know why the order of those shots was changed for the movie.

(side note could these dudes be more intentionally Billy and Stu coded? Lmao like my man on the left is literally wearing Billy's same plaid shirt)

Also as a side note- some people use the matching shoes as evidence that it was Billy in the washroom, but the movie deliberately shows us that several people have those shoes, one of the others being Sheriff Burke. These shoes are actually a red herring, so we can't use them as evidence.

So yeah basically some of what I would change is the order of certain scenes. I also wouldn't mind a better indication of the timing of things, some clocks in the background of certain shots would go a long way for me. I also would have liked for the movie to do a better job laying out the geography of Stu's house, so that we know where everything is in relation to everything else before the chase. I just think that works better for a movie like this with multiple moving parts.

Oooh another big one for me is the call that Randy gets to let him know Himbry has been killed. Who does he think is calling him like that? Why are they calling the house? It obviously has to be Stu, Billy has his hands full ( 💀 ) and it would be too much of a risk to bet that people in the house would find out in time to clear out when they need them too. Basically I just think the writing of that moment could be improved, but I also think it's likely written way it is because Himbry's death scene was a later addition pushed for by executives who thought the movie needed a higher body count.

Final thing I can think of (and its pedantic as hell) is that some of Randy's movie references don't make sense. Calling Billy Leather face? Bringing up Prom Night to argue that the killer isn't Sid's dad (when the killer in prom night is a relative of the original victim)? It would be fine if the movie was pointing out Randy as being a little full of shit but the franchise positions him as the Movie Guy who knows all the Movie Stuff, so they should at least make his references work better.

Lmao ok, thats probably enough, i've written an essay. Possible there's more I would switch up but thats the stuff that comes to mind right now!

[starseneyes]

Chenford - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 5 - Ep 22

"Under Siege" AKA "Who in the Writer's Room Likes Horror?"

It's a bizarre day. If you love Chenford, then you need to know what's going on with the WGA - Writers Guild of America. They are striking for a fair wage and basic protections.

WGA members craft this ship and show we love so much, so please show solidarity for them as they fight for not only their future, but for future generations of writers.

SPOILER ALERT: If you want to remain spoiler free, I have no bloody clue why you're here. I can only assume a friend told you to check this out as a cruel joke. First off, dump that friend. Second, buckle up. It's about to get spoilery!

All good? Great! I can't wait to dive in.

Arrest Me... but make it SCARY

A bit of a different vibe for our opening tonight. No, this isn't Chenford-direct. But, it's important to know the vibe of this episode going in.

If any of you are Avengers: Infinity War fans, you might recall the Wanda / Vision relationship, and their whole sequence where they were ambushed. Originally, it was a lot longer, and had more of a horror movie vibe.

I loved that they went outside the box on that to play with genre throughout the movie.

I feel like The Rookie is playing with that a bit. It's been a while since my heart pounded during an episode.

In all honesty, it was probably Day of Death that last had me on the edge of my seat... and I watched that after I started Season 5 with near-canon Chenford.

Yes, I'm spoiled. Yes, I think OG Chenford fans deserve medals for their patience.

Speaking of which, your patience with me is likely wearing thin... let's get to the Chenford.

"Hey I heard it was Thornson."

Tim and Lucy show up together, and I'm having flashbacks to the two of them bailing out her UC buddy in the dead of night. These two know how to get moving when it matters.

Tim and Lucy immediately separate on their separate missions. That didn't work out too well for Celina and Aaron, but it looks like Chenford survive the night.

Look, I have a lot of ship trauma. "Leaf on the wind" anyone? Yeah, I've got ship trauma.

"A blood drive has been set up at the hospital. If you can do so, please volunteer at the end of shift."

I'm reminded of the fact that Tim Bradford regularly gives blood, so I'm heart-warmed that he's the one who gets to deliver the news to the team.

"Those are not store-bought Halloween masks."

It struck me immediately that Lucy is sitting front row like a Rookie.

Yes, I know that they are packed in there, so somebody has to sit up front... but it's Lucy, so it feels symbolic. As though she is sitting in the Rookie spot in Celina's honor.

"Hey. We heard the good news about Aaron. Unfortunately, none of our CIs have heard anything about a gang targeting the cops."

I know it's a little detail, but I love Tim and Lucy showing up together everywhere.

Of course, someone on Twitter called out the 4x01 parallel to them showing up at Wesley's together after I initially watched the episode. And they're so right. It's another parallel among many in this episode tonight!

"I hate to say it, but this is not gonna break tonight."

This one I spotted immediately the first time through—it's another night where he's sending everyone home because there's nothing more to be done... just like when they lost Jackson.

And I have to wonder if the intentionality of these parallels is to confirm or subvert expectation.

Like, are we supposed to see this similar sequence of events as an omen of doom? Or are we drawing these parallels with the intent of intensifying the torture before the cathartic release of Aaron's survival?

I guess we'll find out together in Season 6.

"I can't lose another."

Oh, Grey. Poor Grey. I guess I wasn't the only one having flashbacks.

Tim and Lucy Embrace

Tim knows Lucy is having that same flashback. There are too many similarities, too many things tying them all back to Jackson and the loss they all endured.

Angela about to give birth. Someone targeting them. An ambush and a shooting.

Yes, Aaron has a chance at making it. But the weight of this moment is not lost on this team who has suffered too much loss before.

Lucy and Tim step into the apartment, and they barely make it past the door before they're in one another's arms.

It's wordless. Tim motions to Lucy, and it reminds me of the hand motions when he offered to carry the War Bags after their last ride together.

Tim and Lucy no longer need a shorthand... they don't even need words.

He knows what she needs without her asking, and she knows what he's offering without a word spoken.

Back in Season 4 Episode 1, Tim asked what she needed. She asked for the hug. Now he knows what she needs in this moment as easily as he knows his own—some semblance of comfort in the horror of history repeating.

QUICK EDIT: Upon rewatch, I find I didn't imagine his "Come here" the first time (another call back), so technically he did use words... but they weren't needed.

Tim holds Lucy in his arms—so similar to their positioning in 4x01—but that's where the similarities end. Because Tim and Lucy of Season 4 no longer exist.

Everything has deepened between them since then. And while, yes, the hanky panky is fun... the trust is what they both need here.

They can't trust that everything will be okay. But they trust that with one another they are truly safe. And right now, they both need that comfort.

"It's okay," he whispers as he holds her, wishing it were true.

Tim kisses Lucy's forehead as he holds her, rubs her arms, and tries to offer some comfort as she leans against him, sobs overtaking her... like the first time he held her in Day of Death.

I know that we're going for the 4x01 parallels with how this is shot and staged, but I see the DOD ones, too. This is where they are safe when nowhere else feels safe.

Tim's hand cradles her head as he holds her. And much as this hurts like hell, this moment is important.

Tim and Lucy are one another's safe place. With each other, there are no pretenses or pretending, anymore. They no longer hide from one another or themselves.

They've embraced the beauty of who they are together, and while there will be many moments of joy... the sorrow is a part of the journey.

Tim and Lucy have had their share of it, true. But this is the first time they've traversed it as boyfriend and girlfriend. And the impact of enduring possibly losing another officer and friend to an ambush is too much.

Does being together make it easier? Hell, no. Is there a slight comfort in knowing you're not enduring it alone? Oh, yes.

"No we know. We ran your prints ... you don't get out of bed for less than 20K a day. Who hired you?"

Tim and Lucy are very good at what they do, and I love how they are supporting one another and building upon each other.

I miss them riding together, but we see what makes them great—they both think on their feet and they are sensational at the "yes, and".

I love getting to see the professional side still fires so beautifully between them. It's a feat I feared fumbled, but I'm freakin' psyched it fared fine.

Oh my goodness, that's way too much alliteration. But, I'm leaving it. It's ridiculous and it makes me smile!

The Trip Wire

Another commonality with Season 4 Episode 1. Gee wiz, we're going for lots of references with this one, and that leaves me curious about the intention... and whether there's a common thread that we're somehow missing that leads all the way back.

Or, I'm reading too much into it because I'm weird. I can roll with that, too.

Tim joins up with Lucy outside the house where she asks him for clarity that none of them have. What the hell is going on!?

"We should move on." "What? No."

Love that Lucy still stands up to Tim at work.

Look, even when he was her TO and then her supervisor, Lucy never shied away from speaking her mind. In this case, she sees something they're missing. And she's not going to let them miss out on an important piece of the puzzle.

"You think it's personal?" "I mean, look, if I was gonna go to the extreme of targeting police officers, why not take out some of my enemies along the way?"

And with that, Lucy BadAss Chen cracks the case. No, I don't know if that's her legal middle name. But it should be.

My brain immediately goes back to Tim accusing her of a social media obsession that happened to crack a case back during one of the Documentary episodes.

There's no skirting around this one—it was all Chen.

"I'll take Moran." "You're not going by yourself." "I'll go with her."

Alright, Fierce Protector. You do you.

"You should be out kicking doors with Metro." "I'm good." "I don't need you protecting me."

Well, damn, I thought it was just me! I thought I was gonna be the only one in this Meta calling out Tim in the Protector role, but I guess my on-screen bestie had to chime in, too.

Also, bringing back "Good" in this scene, which truly feels like their word, and I love it.

Tim will always have Lucy's back. He knows that she is capable and strong, but he's also her boyfriend and spent a lot of time as her TO and then Supervisor. Worrying about her was a part of his job, and now it's an ingrained part of his life.

He's not trying to undermine her independence or capability. He simply wants to be close because then he knows she is safe and doesn't have to hold his breath wondering.

"So, clearly what you're saying is you need me protecting you." "Clearly. You know me so well."

It was pinging my brain, and I couldn't figure out why until someone pulled out the DOD GIF on Twitter and I started slow-clapping like a sports movie.

Yes, of course! When Lucy woke up in the hospital to find Tim by her side... as he is, now.

I kept seeing DOD parallels in this episode, and I'm strangely comforted that others did, too.

Plus, a return of "Clearly", which has been another of Tim and Lucy's words. "Clearly, Ashley's gotta go." "Clearly this isn't working out."

"I'm happy it's you at my six." "Back at you."

Major "We protect each other" vibes, and I bloody approve. Look, we know that Tim is a Fierce Protector. But he also knows that his girlfriend is a kick-ass bad-ass.

Now, we enter into a fight scene that is a bloody masterpiece.

Yes, I wondered why they emptied their clips at the Riot Shields, but I'm not a cop, so I don't know if there's some logic behind it I don't possess. Other than that... this fucking rocked.

Like, literally. I couldn't have been the only Xennial rocking out when Janes Addiction started playing! Someone go hug the Music Supervisor, Music Coordinator, Screenwriter, Director, or whoever threw that track out there, because it's bloody brilliant.

Tim and Lucy are working together, talking it out as they go. And we see all that time they've put into building their communication is really on display, even in a bloody battle.

"We stand a chance, but only together."

Hell, yeah, Lucy! I've been saying that all season. No, not in terms of having the high ground (rest in pieces, Anikan Skywalker's limbs), but in terms of getting through this thing called life.

Tim and Lucy stand a chance of surviving as Chenford through end of show only if they work together.

And on-the-screen in this particular moment, the same holds true.

"Pull not push, copy that."

Love. Them. Look at Tim taking the word of his capable wife and putting it into practice.

Tim and Lucy are literally fighting for their lives, here, and they are fighting together. When one's on the brink of being overwhelmed, the other is there.

Lucy delivers a strike to free up Tim. He takes on several at once, and she goes for the shield. I was screaming, "Hell, yeah, baby girl!" like the big sister I am to my on-screen bestie because she was crushing.

Tim is the master of pepper spray, I swear. He's used it in many creative ways, but super smart to go straight for the eye-holes on the masks to try to penetrate.

Lucy's close to losing consciousness when Tim rips the guy off of her, repaying the earlier favor of her freeing him up. It's a literal give-and-take... in a fight for their lives. This is bloody brilliant.

Nolan finally makes it up there, and Tim helps Lucy through the door to the stairwell, literally shielding her with his body.

Once inside, Tim has his hand on one of his favorite places—Lucy's leg. But this isn't a sexy-time touch. This is the, "Thank God you're alive" touch. If they hadn't worked together, that could have ended very differently.

"I have Bradford and Chen secured upstairs."

Chen and Bradford, sir. It's Chenford. Not Braden.

"You should be on your way to the hospital." "We'll go after."

At least Tim is saying he'll go. Like, seriously, this guy is the king of avoiding medical attention. And too often when he's gone in, he did so knowing nobody was waiting for him on the other side.

Now, not only is he willingly going to go in with his girlfriend, he knows that they'll leave together. Look how far our boy has come.

A Glance

Our last moment of Tim and Lucy is just a glance... a subtle glance between the two of them where that wordless communication comes in.

They've always have this layer to their relationship—communicating without a word. But it's so much deeper, now.

And as we reflect on the end of a season, I have to say it's been incredible to witness their growth alongside y'all in real-time.

This season has been an absolute roller coaster, and my first with all y'all! I started with 5x01, had to catch up, and have loved this whole journey.

Thank you all for being so welcoming to a late-comer like me. And thank you for reading!

Remember, love one another. Give yourself grace. Don't worry about "perfect" because it doesn't bloody exist. Go after your dreams. Fuck Fear. And believe in yourself, always.

And if you're not ready to believe in yourself... know that I believe in you. And I'm always rooting for good things to come your way. You've got this.

[stuairi675]

Entry 3: 19/10/24 - God I Hate Elves

God, I fucking hate elves.

Sorry. I know that’s a hell of a thing to come out the gates with, but Jesus have they ever earned my eternal disdain, the eternal aspect being pertinent in particular. Due to the famous immortality of elves, they’ll be able to fully appreciate all its intricate nuances.

And, of course, when I say elves, what I am really saying in whispered subtext is Legolas. 

Sorry Gimli. Whilst I have a great reverence and love for you, your dumbass princeling boyfriend deserves a slandering - made no less worthy of it by him then going out with someone so much younger (perhaps he should be called LEO-las). 

I mean he arrested the guy’s Dad and then proceeded to mock his own future boyfriend’s baby pics (bet that made for an interesting couples therapy session on their honeymoon revisiting Fangorn Forest [treebeard was definitely the therapist, making for a slow session]).

All I’m saying is it looks a bit sus. In my book, Legolas belongs in the same camp as Padme and either one of the two boyfriend options in Twilight, maybe more the werewolf one because of that uncomfortable imprinting business.

It’s just the modern consensus. Every time I show somebody new the Lord of the Rings, without fail Legolas is their favourite character (me and my Mum were arguing about this the entire time) and like… I get it. He does cool shit and he looks beautiful (at least among hobbits and humans - though he’s edged out by Aragorn, [phew Daddy!], and is nothing compared to the sexual powerhouse that is Gimli, son of Gloin). 

But he’s as talkative and actually charismatic as a wet rice cake, I’m certain of this. And I’m certain that the writers of those movies knew this too, because they give all the general chatter scenes to Gimli, the better and more inspirational character. I can’t help but think to that one scene in the second film where Aragorn and Legolas reunite after Aragorn has a “little tumble off the cliff” and instead of having a deep and meaningful conversation illustrative of the full capacity of their intricate and powerful friendship, they cut to a longshot and mute the guys, presumably because the writers attempted to think of a conversation sustained by the loquacious wit of our favourite socially maladjusted wood elf before coming to the realisation that one could never exist. 

Being trapped in a lift with Legolas sounds like it’d be worse than hell.

And yeah, he goes through an arc (allegedly) but so does Gimli – the exact same one - and Gimli has the boon of actually also having a personality, so there.

It’s funny, because otherwise I don’t actually mind the elves in Lord of the Rings. In the Hobbit they’re antagonists (book continuity – always the book continuity with the Hobbit), and in Lord of the Rings they’re far removed from the central plot and act more like other worldly beings bestowing gifts and boons Athena style onto our mortal protagonists. They’re like mini-Gandalfs, who incidentally does cool stuff as well like Legolas but I’m more inclined to favour him because he has occasions where he gets his ass beat and has to regenerate Doctor Who style, and he’s just a sweet old man type dude that visits his little friends, throws cool ass parties, smokes weed and fells balrogs. He just has a more developed and wholesome vibe.

So, elves in middle-earth are implemented quite well in my opinion, but outside of that I just generally hate them and people’s obsession with them. A predominantly Aryan race, extremely self-possessed and arrogant, without hesitation or exception believing themselves to be naturally superior to every other filthier, uglier and lesser species. Gees, what’s not to like? But it’s made up for by the fact that they know how to do their hair.

Now, boys and girls, given the history (and to be honest present) of our own world, what tends to happen when you have a meeting between two groups, one of which believes them to be (and, depending on the narrative, actually is) superior to the other? That’s right. A bad thing, mostly for the group that can’t live to a billion and do backflips from the age of three.

I just don’t like people extolling mindless beauty and idolising an idealised fantasy creature that would a hundred percent bully those people in real life if they existed. Best case scenario is they’re the vegans of fantasy land, worse case is they’re the Nazis.  At least vampires just eat you, not try and give you unwanted life advice. 

And they gave us goths, to which I say: phew Mummy!

Tangent over:

Ruairi

[oatmilk-vampire]

Vampire Eddie (Steddie)

mdni 18+ part 1(original) @breealtair you made me want to write this and I couldn't focus on anything else until I did. So this part 2(technically a prequel) is for everyone but mostly you.

When Eddie Munson came back from the dead, it freaked Steve out.

Sure, it wasn’t the first time someone in Hawkins had seemed to come back from the dead, but it was certainly the first time they'd shown up on Steve's doorstep covered in mud and blood.

Steve was more than freaked out. He was terrified.

He didn't think to answer with his nailbat drawn, he hadn't needed to in quite some time. Sue him for screaming at the top of his lungs and falling flat on his ass and scrambling backwards the exact same way he'd yelled at people in horror movies for.

Only, Eddie didn't come after him like some deranged killer or bloodthirsty monster. He just stood there, equally shell-shocked that he'd been given that kind of reaction.

When Steve realized Eddie wasn't killing him right then and there his mouth clamped shut and he let out an awkward cough.

"Um, hi?"

"Harrington," Eddie greets, still standing at the threshold.

"What---er--- brings you here?" Steve still wants to look around for a makeshift weapon but he isn't ready to take his eyes off of the dark figure looming in his doorway.

"I just woke up. What the hell happened? Did we defeat Vecna?" Eddie had awoken, seemingly buried alive and so hungry and thirsty. What happened next is something he's not quite sure actually happened, but he'll always remember the sound a deer makes when it's dying now.

"Um... We might have? That depends. How are you feeling?"

Eddie blinks. "Fine, I guess? I was starving but now I'm really nauseated."

"Is that, um, what did you eat?" What the hell is all over your face? was left unsaid.

Eddie grimaces and Steve catches sight of them. Sharp and wholly unnatural. The fangs looked nothing like those in Fright Night, which Steve had watched last year when it came out, but it still terrified him.

"Promise not to freak out?" Eddie questions but Steve already shakes his head.

"Kinda too late for that."

Eddie sighs.

"I ate a deer. Or, drank a deer, technically. I don't know the logistics. I think I'm a vampire. One moment I'm surrounded by that colony of demobats and next thing I'm alone in the dirt, starving, and now I'm here."

"Okay, okay. Fuck." Steve mumbled to himself, finally looking away from Eddie's eyes. His eyes still remain the same, nothing monstrous or undead about them. Steve suddenly remembers something, eyes shooting up to meet Eddie's once more.

"You can't come in unless you're invited, right?"

Eddie actually has the audacity to laugh at him. Laugh!

"Um, actually I think I can. I was just trying to be respective and not send you into cardiac arrest before your time."

"Oh."

So Steve was only really safe because Eddie chose not to come in and murder him. Okay. It should make him feel better but it does very little to uncoil the knot in his stomach.

"Yeah. So, can I come in?"

Flash forward two weeks, by now all of their friends were aware Eddie was in fact not dead and seemingly not controlled by Vecna. It's just him.

Of course, only Steve knew Eddie's, erm, condition and how he could eat human food but it didn't stanch his hunger.

Steve and Eddie decidedly got closer in those two week, mostly because they shared a secret no one else knew. No one else could know, they reasoned.

Eddie moved back in with Uncle Wayne, but even he didn't know the nature of Eddie's return. Despite this, Eddie was practically over at Steve's every free chance he had anyway.

It's one of their hangouts that Eddie seems a little different, something Steve has realized indicates he's getting hungry.

"Just go eat, man. I don't mind. I'll wait to start the movie. Just don't, like, kill the neighbor's dog or anything."

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face.

"As much as I want to eat, Steve, I feel nauseated just thinking about it."

"But, you have to." Steve's brows furrow. "You can't not eat."

"I know, but the animal blood is just... I don't know if they have weird diseases or something but it just makes me sick."

"Oh." Steve hesitates, considering what he's about to say and offer. "So, it's not drinking blood that grosses you out. It's drinking animal blood."

"Yeah..." Eddie questions, wondering where Steve is going with this.

"So, have you considered drinking human blood?"

Eddie blinks at him.

"Steve, I'm not gonna just go drink from some random person. And I don't exactly feel like trying to rob a blood bank. I've had an angry Hawkins mob come after me once already and I don't exactly want it again. They'll think I want it for some satanic ritual."

"Okay, so just drink from me." Steve shrugs as if he merely suggested Eddie borrow a shirt from him. "I don't have any weird diseases."

Eddie scoffs, "That's debatable." because he couldn't miss a moment to take a dig at the pretty boy, he hoped it would make Steve retract his offer or forget about it all together.

It didn't.

"Oh wow, Munson. Slut-shaming, really?" He waves his arm in front of Eddie's face and the vampire stares at it as if someone just offered him a T-bone steak when all he's ever had were microwaved Salisbury ones from banquet. Because he had. And this is practically what Steve's blood smelled like.

"Steve, get away from me. Seriously, I'm not gonna drink from you."

Steve's face gets a pinched expression.

"Seriously? What's wrong with my blood?" He doesn't lower his arm. "You're hungry and animals make you sick. Drink."

"Steve, I don't know if I'll be able to stop. I killed that deer, and yeah maybe it's because I was starving or dehydrated or whatever, but what if your blood is like, really really good? I don't want to hurt or kill you." Sure, he's only killed the one deer. He was able to stop himself with each subsequent animal, as long as they were big. The smaller ones were sucked dry.

"And, what, I just let you fast until you get hungry enough that you might hurt someone else? Might hurt Dustin? Come on, Munson."

Steve had a point.

Eddie eyes Steve's arm, hears the blood thrumming just beneath his skin. He licks his lips.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Should you maybe, I don't know. Would it make you uncomfortable if I had you, um, straddle my lap? Just so you could have more control! Maybe you could arm yourself with a knife or something just in case I don't let you go."

Steve takes his arm away and Eddie thinks he's blown it.

"Fine, I'll straddle your lap but I'm not holding a knife on you--Jesus, Eddie!" He exclaims as he's swiftly manhandled into Eddie's lap, knees on either side of Eddie's hips.

"How are you supposed to drink from my arm now? Isn't this an awkward angle?" Steve wonders out loud, already preparing to offer up his neck instead.

"Oh, shit, You're right. Maybe--"

Steve tilts his head to the side and the words die on Eddie's tongue.

Steve mentally steels himself for a pain reminiscent of what the Russians inflicted on him and Robin, or of the sharp bite of the demobats themselves.

Eddie takes a deep breath in, out. "Are you sure?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yes, Eddie, I'm--" he's cut off with his own gasp as he feels Eddie's lips on his neck, and then--

What happens next is not Steve's fault.

He's barely even aware that his hands find purchase on Eddie's sides, or that his hips start moving on their own accord. Seeking friction as his body wakes up to new sensations.

Eddie doesn't drink much, even if Steve was the best thing he's ever tasted. He has control over himself, so he only drinks until the actual hunger fades away leaving behind only his cravings.

He pops off of his neck, licking across the twin puncture wounds before guiding Steve backward to make sure he's okay.

Steve's eyes are half-mast, lips apart.

Eddie worries for a moment. Steve's out of it appearance in combination with the mewling noises he was making and rutting he was doing either meant one, Eddie did some serious damage; or two, Steve was fucked out.

When Eddie looked down and saw the visible wet spot right over where Steve's boner was beginning to fade, he had his answer.

His eyes flit back to Steve's suddenly feeling like he shouldn't be seeing Steve in such a vulnerable state.

"You okay, Stevie?" The nickname falls right off of his tongue. "I think you, hmm. I think you came in your pants, big boy."

That seems to snap Steve out of it. His eyes focus on Eddie's before falling to his lap with a gasp.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"

Eddie stops him from scrambling off of his lap. "Hey, hold on! I don't know how much blood I took, I don't exactly trust you on your feet right now."

"Well I can't just stay on your lap like this!"

Eddie doesn't mind it one bit. Sure he was worried with that initial gasp Steve let out, but now that he knows it was a good kind of breathlessness, we'll it's all okay. He voices just that.

"I, I hope I didn't make it weird. God, I'm so stupid. Who gets hard when their friend is--"

"Sucking them?" Eddie supplies with a giggle and Steve shoves his shoulder.

"This isn't funny!"

"Okay, embarrassment aside. Do you feel okay? Do you have any regrets about letting me drink your blood?"

"No. Other than coming in my pants? I'm okay. It didn't even hurt that bad." It hurt good.

Steve pretends not to notice the boner straining against Eddie's own jeans and how much he wanted to help Eddie out with that.

As weird as it was, that was the best orgasm Steve's ever had. And he'd do anything to get it again. Plus if his friend could reman happy and fed, well, who was he to complain?

[coldforestnight]

previous may december anon, yeah i have seen it! it was so insanely good and i think you’d like it. theres a scene w charles melton that reminds me of the end of mysterious skins lol. also yeah its based on a really horrifying true story and the screenplay incorporates aspects of the actual events in super interesting ways

Hi love sorry for taking forever to watch the movie and reply to this but, god, what an incredible film

(spoilers under cut)

I love the way the characters are written, Gracie especially of course, I'm always saying we need more depictions of female groomers in fiction and this one was just perfectly scripted. Her unwillingness to think about her own traumatic past and yet how calculating she was in managing everything about her relationship with young Joe, how easily she could get away with it as a white woman in perpetual victimhood, how angry and punishing she got in that awful scene where he asks her if maybe he was too young...

So many incredible scenes. Everything with Joe and his children broke my heart completely. The way he speaks, his mannerisms, it's such a great portrayal of the arrested development trauma can impart - reminds me of that saying where rape victims will always feel how old they were when they were raped, except Joe's being forced to live as an eternal 13 year old, caught in this web that Gracie has built around them.

Elizabeth was a fascinating character as well! I need a few more rewatches to figure out what to make of her. I saw memes about how Gracie is BPD but Elizabeth is NPD, whatever I don't care about those terms, but Elizabeth is a wonderfully dark character in her own right. Her need for attention from the high school boys, her insistence that Joe be played by a "sexy" actor, her requests for repeated scenes shot with him... so much going on there. And loved the Persona vibes as well with her sort of becoming the same person as Gracie. Truly an epic battle of female groomers.

The scene with Joe that reminds you of Mysterious Skin, was it the scene where he's in the bleachers at graduation? Or the one where he finally confronts Gracie? I was thinking about this ask while watching both of those scenes.

I'm waiting for the post-movie hangover to fade so I can feel up to reading about the real story. Feels a bit much right now. But yes, thank you for the recommendation - I'm glad I've finally seen it, it's already one of my new favorites of the 2020s!

[beep-beep-imma-sheep]

I decided to read Anne Frank's Diary... What an interesting experience considering Venezuela's current events.

—

Our lives were not without anxiety, since our relatives in Germany were suffering under Hitler's anti-Jewish laws. After the pogroms in 1938 my two uncles (my mother's brothers) fled Germany, finding safe refuge in North America. My elderly grandmother came to live with us. She was seventy-three years old at the time.

This anxiety feels similar to... Pretty much what anyone who fled their home country would feel.

After May 1940 the good times were few and far between:

28th of July, anyone?

first there was the war, then the capitulation and then the arrival of the Germans, which is when the trouble started for the Jews. Our freedom was severely restricted by a series of anti-Jewish decrees:

Out freedom was severely restricted... Yeah. That speaks for itself.

Jews were required to wear a yellow star; Jews were required to turn in their bicycles; Jews were forbidden to use street-cars; Jews were forbidden to ride in cars, even their own; Jews were required to do their shopping between 3 and 5 P.M.; Jews were required to frequent only Jewish-owned barbershops and beauty parlors; Jews were forbidden to be out on the streets between 8 P.M. and 6 A.M.;

This is not the same, of course, but this also reminds me of how, even if there's no official curfew, no one dares to go outside after certain hour. I remember one of these nights my aunt woke up around 2 am and saw the military through the window roaming around were I live, probably looking for someone to arrest.

Jews were forbidden to attend theaters, movies or any other forms of entertainment; Jews were forbidden to use swimming pools, tennis courts, hockey fields or any other athletic fields; Jews were forbidden to go rowing; Jews were forbidden to take part in any athletic activity in public; Jews were forbidden to sit in their gardens or those of their friends after 8 P.M.; Jews were forbidden to visit Christians in their homes; Jews were required to attend Jewish schools,etc.

... Well, we haven't reached that point. But no one SHOULD get to that point-.

You couldn't do this and you couldn't do that, but life went on.

That sounds very 🇻🇪 to me.

Jacque always said to me, "I don't dare do anything anymore, 'cause I'm afraid it's not allowed".

Again, that feeling looks... Very familiar.

It seems like years since Sunday morning. So much has happened it's as if the whole world had suddenly turned upside down.

🇻🇪28th of July🇻🇪

It's more like being on vacation in some strange pension. Kind of an odd way to look at life in hiding, but that's how things are.

Coping mechanisms be like.

Whatever we do, we're very afraid the neighbors might hear or see us.

GIRL, SAME. There's Chavistas in my neighborhood, I'm s c a r e d that they'd end up ratting us out on being from the opposition so the police can put us under arrest.

Though the people who work there are not on the premises after hours, any sound we make might travel through the walls.

I know that fear.

We've forbidden Margot to cough at night, even though she has a bad cold, and are giving her large doses of codeine.

...

Of course, we can't ever look out the window or go outside. And we have to be quiet so the people downstairs can't hear us. (...) Not being able to go outside upsets me more than I can say, and I'm terrified our hiding place will be discovered and that we'll be shot. That, of course, is a fairly dismal prospect.

From July 28th to August 1st I didn't even dare to look out the window. And the fear of being shot is something I carry with me since I was a kid.

And sometimes they talk about Moortje and I can't take that at all. Moortje is my weak spot. I miss her every minute of the day, and no one knows how often I think of her; whenever I do, my eyes fill with tears. Moortje is so sweet, and I love her so much that I keep dreaming she'll come back to us.

Unrelated to the topic, but back in the last days of May my dog passed away (yes, I had the worst pride month). I resonated with this scared 13 y/o girl who had to leave everything behind, even her beloved pet.

Yesterday I had a horrible fright. At eight o'clock the doorbell suddenly rang. All I could think of was that someone was coming to get us, you know who I mean. But I calmed down when everybody swore it must have been either pranksters or the mailman.

Sometimes I remember the fact that a guard could just... Break into my house and take me or someone I love away. And that's terrifying.