#you’re gonna look me in the eye and tell me he’s NOT queer???

[cryptidstealingyourcreditcard]

i’m not a big fan of httyd 3 but i am completely and irrevocably in love with tuffnut’s rings and earrings

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-spooktober day 24: pumpkin | G | 655

“Ope, here he comes,” Robin says, glancing up out the front window of Family Video.

“Wonder what it’s gonna be this time.” Steve sighs, stacking one last tape on the counter before abandoning the task to focus on the incoming metalhead.

“What’s what gonna be?” Dustin asks, looking between the two older teens.

“Eddie’s taken it upon himself to give us a greeting every time he comes in recently.” Robin explains, watching Eddie’s attempts to fix his atrocious parking job.

“Okay, and?”

“It’s been getting more and more ridiculous each time.”

“...Okay…?”

Robin starts to explain, telling Dustin about a couple of notable visits Eddie’s made since the world almost ended.

-

“Merrily met, Lord and Lady Buckley of the great town of Famally Vidu!”

“...I’m ‘Lord’, I call it.”

“You can’t be Lord!”

“I can be whatever I want to be, It’s my last name!”

-

“Hey Stevie, what’s a beauty like you doing in a place like this all alone?”

Steve had just blinked at him, “I work here.”

“And he’s not alone!” Robin calls from where she was crouched behind a nearby shelf.

-

“Good morning Pumpkin,” (“He said this directly to Steve, mind you.” Robin says.)

“Eddie, it’s 3 in the afternoon.”

-

“Hola Querido, Querid-ess.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Eddie, that’s not how Spanish works.”

“‘S how it does in my household, Bobin.”

“Someone tell me what queer-eedo means!”

“It means asshole.” Eddie says quickly, face tinging pink.

-

Steve thinks back on all these, and from what he can remember about that last one (and the shade of red Eddie’s face had turned), he doesn’t think Querido means what Eddie said it did.

“I think he’s been flirting with me.” Steve says, cutting between their conversation, still staring at Eddie in his van. He’s checking his teeth in the rear-view mirror now.

“Yeah, okay, Eddie was flirting with you.” Dustin scoffs.

“No, he was.” Robin says, leaning back on the counter.

“Steve, just ‘cause you had good hair in high school doesn’t mean that everyone’s always flirting with you. And no he wasn’t.” he says, directing this last at Robin.

“Would it be so horrible if he was?” Steve turns around to face him, “If he was flirting with me, that is.”

“No, of course not, he can flirt with whoever he wants.”

“Just not me?” 

“Well duh.” he says as if it’s obvious, “You guys are basically like my brothers, it’d be weird. Plus, you’re not even into guys, it wouldn’t be fair to Eddie.”

“Wait, you know about Eddie?” Robin says, rounding on him, shocked. There’s a dull thud from behind them. Eddie must’ve finally gotten out of his van.

“You know about Eddie?”

The bell jingles merrily above the door, and they turn to look at him.

Eddie takes them in, then says “Hello to everyone except Steve.” he leans forward on the counter nearest him, eyes boring into Steve, “And a special ‘Hello’ to everyone else.”

There’s a two second silence, then, “Oh my god that was horrible.” Robin laughs.

Dustin gags, “Ugh, ew, I think you’re right Steve.” 

Steve, however, is just staring back at Eddie. 

Eddie, who’s visibly getting more uncomfortable the longer it’s taking Steve to respond.

Steve, whose face blazes red a second later, “You’ve been flirting with me this whole time.”

Eddie straightens up, flushing a bit as he rubs the back of his neck. “Uh.. yeah, I have. That okay?”

“Yeah.. yeah, it’s good.” Steve laughs, a little breathless. Then, throwing all caution to the wind, “Hey, wanna go see a movie on Friday?”

This question seems to genuinely shock Eddie, he stands there, frozen, only unfreezing when Steve continues on with “As friends if you want, but I was thinking that since you’ve been flirting with me for the last six months…” 

“No! I mean, yes. Yeah, yep. Absolutely I do. Want to go on a date with you.”

Steve grins, “Cool.”

and then they go see Trick or Treat bc it opened that friday (Oct. 24th 1986) and bc it sounded like a halloween movie, only for it to be the best/worst b-list horror movie about a bullied metalhead named eddie and the ghost of his fave rockstar

rip eddie munson, you would've loved trick or treat

dividers from @saradika-graphics

[unfinishedslurs]

party king (steddie)

“You want me to what?”

“Go to a party with me,” Eddie says, looking at Steve like he’s the weirdo here. “What’s the big deal, King Steve? You’ve been to plenty of parties.”

“You know, no one actually called me that,” Steve tells him, abandoning his tapes to put his hands on his hips. “Billy started it. I think he just wanted people to call him a king.”

Eddie visibly considers this before nodding, like it makes sense. Which it does. Billy was, in Steve’s private thoughts, an egotistical maniac who needed to calm down.

May he rest in peace.

“But you’ll come to the party with me, right?”

“Give it up, Eddie,” Robin calls from where she’s rewinding tapes. “Steve hasn’t been to a party in forever. He’s basically a grandpa now.”

“Hey!” Steve objects. That’s rich, coming from her. Going to bed at nine some nights so he gets a few more hours of sleep before waking up in a cold sweat does not make him a grandpa. It just makes him traumatized  

“Steeeeeeeve,” Eddie whines, widening his eyes until it looks like they’re going to pop out of his sockets. His exaggerated pout isn't going to do him any favors either. No matter what the kids say behind his back (looking at you, Henderson) he isn't a pushover.

“Why would I want to go to a high school party?” He crosses his arms, leaning against the counter. “I graduated. I have better things to do with my time.”

“Like lose arcade games to freshmen?” Robin asks. He flips her the bird.

“Please, Steve?” Eddie asks. “Pretty please? Pretty pretty please, with cherries and whipped cream and six little nuggets on top?”

“What the hell are you even saying anymore?”

“You want him to eat his babies?” Robin shrieks. “Like Kronos? Is one of them going to cut off his head and free the rest?”

Eddie’s eyes light up, and Steve slaps a hand over his mouth. He doesn’t know who that guy is, and he doesn’t want to deal with the two of them chattering over whatever movie villain he’s assuming is in their weird cult classic films when he still doesn’t know why Eddie is asking him to this party.

He doesn’t even flinch when Eddie licks his hand.

“I’ve been slobbered on by actual monsters,” he says flatly. “Your spit has zero effect on me.”

Eddie bats his eyes and gives his palm a kiss, right where he’d laved his tongue. Steve rolls his eyes and wipes his hand on the side of Eddie’s face.

“Hey!”

“Don’t dish what you can’t take,” Steve says. “Now, why exactly am I getting asked to go to a high school party?”

“Jessica Roberts needs some kush, and she asked me to sell there.”

“Okay? Still not answering my question.”

“There’s gonna be jocks at the party,” Eddie finally confesses, “and I don’t know if they’ll try shit. But given my track record lately…”

“So you need a bodyguard?”

“Hey!” Steve shouts, and is summarily ignored by everyone. So he does what any normal person would do, and slams an abandoned beer bottle against the edge of the counter so it shatters. 

The jocks turn and look at him after that.

Steve glances down at the jagged edges of the bottle in his hands, flipping it like it’s his old ice cream scoop. Yeah, this should work. 

“Leave him alone,” he says, steely inflection to his voice. 

“Or what, Harrington?” One of them asks. “Heard you just been sittin’ in this room all night. What, you hanging around the queers now? Didn’t take you for a f-”

He stops talking when Steve grabs him by the hair and presses the broken bottle against his throat.

“Here’s what's gonna happen,” he says quietly, taking a look at his buddy. He’s let go of Eddie, a lot more spooked now that his friend is shaking in his Nike’s. “You’re going to leave this room. You’re going to leave Munson here alone. You’re not going to bother him, or anyone else in his dragon club ever again. If I hear that you or your little friends are fucking with him, I have a very nice nail-studded baseball bat in my trunk I’d be more than happy to introduce you to. Capisce?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” the guy that was holding Eddie says. “What the hell, Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t break eye contact with the guy he’s threatening. “Capisce?” He asks again, putting a little more force into the word.

“C-capisce.”

“Good,” he says, shoving him away. “Now get outta here.”

They scramble away. Steve walks over to the trash can and throws away the remains of the bottle, running a hand through his hair. He finally turns around to see Eddie staring at him with wide eyes, frozen.

“Sorry-”

“Fuck me.”

“What?”

Eddie’s entire face flushes, like he didn’t mean to say that. “Uh.”

Steve looks at him, and then around the kitchen they’re in. Glass and beer on the floor, music blasting loud enough to set him on edge, a crowd of people that look at him like a zoo exhibit. Fuck, his head hurts. 

“Yeah, okay,” he decides. “We’re going to mine, though.”

“Wh-what?” Eddie looks like a deer in headlights, even though Steve’s offering exactly what he asked. 

“I…have no idea what I’m doing,” Eddie confesses. 

“Oh, are you not…” He trails off, gesturing towards Eddie’s back pocket. “I assumed…”

Eddie laughs abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth like he startled himself with it. “You know hanky code, Harrington?”

“Can you call me Steve when you’re in my bed?” He’s already got his shirt off, for God’s sake. “Listen, man, if you don’t want this, it’s no biggie.” He starts to get off, and Eddie’s hand clamps over his thigh. 

“No, no, no, don’t you dare. Just gimme a minute, I’m processing.”

“Processing,” he repeats flatly. 

“Yes, processing. I’ve got the guy of my extremely virginal wet dreams shirtless on top of me. I did not think this would ever happen. I didn’t even know you were queer until tonight.”

Steve’s mouth shapes into an “o” of understanding. “You’re a virgin?”

“Jesus, could you focus on anything else I said?”

“You dream about me?”

“Let’s go back to the virgin part.” His fingers start nervously tapping against Steve’s leg. 

“You’re not subtle,” Steve says flatly. “I know when you stare at my ass.”

Eddie colors in a flood of bright red. “What if I wasn’t? What if I was…uh, jealous or something?”

“I guess that’d make sense, since you’re flat as a board.”

“Wh—hey!”

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul Pride Special 2024

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

            “Angel! Husk! Vaggie! Alastor!” Charlie rounded the corner and ran towards her fellow adults in the hotel. “Disaster!”

            The others all looked at Charlie in confusion.

            “Oh, boy, what is it gonna be this time?” said Angel.

            “Nothing that I’m going to be a part of,” muttered Husk.

            The last time Charlie had looked this freaked out, she had learned that all the dances she knew from Earth were out of date and forced all of them to teach her the latest dances (only to then learn that Vaggie had died ten years before (Y/N), and (Y/N) wasn’t exposed to modern media so she was still behind).

            “Babe,” said Vaggie, grabbing Charlie by the shoulders to steady her. “Calm down. Tell us what’s wrong.”

            While Angel and Husk attempted to stand and sneak away, Alastor began to melt into the shadows.

            “It’s about (Y/N)!” said Charlie.

            Angel and Husk froze, and Alastor instantly reformed. Vaggie tensed.

            “What about (Y/N)?” said Alastor, tilting his head. His wide smile was frozen on his face, but Husk took a careful step back at the sharpness of the expression.

            “I was talking to them about the party my dad held for me last week because he learned that I liked girls and guys, and they looked confused! They had no idea it could be something celebrated!” said Charlie.

            “Babe, in most of our lives it wasn’t something people could talk about,” said Vaggie. “I mean, I died when LGBT people were starting to be able to marry.”

            “Yes, but (Y/N) thought people who were queer were in Hell because they were queer! They thought they were in Hell partly because of that,” said Charlie, anguished.

            “…They think that about themself?” said Angel, frowning and glancing at Husk.

            Husk sighed. “They have made some comments like that. I think they were raised religious and were pretty controlled.”

            “So (Y/N) thinks they’re a bad person?” said Angel. He frowned. “They’re like…the best of us outside of Charlie.”

            “They are in Hell for a reason,” said Alastor. He grinned. “Pretending they’re helpless doesn’t help them.”

            Husk scowled and rolled his eyes. “They’re strong, but they’re still a kid.”

            “They’re in Hell, but not for being queer!” said Charlie. She looked at Vaggie. “We need to make sure they know that!”

            “Hey, babe, relax.” Vaggie smiled and took Charlie’s hands. “If you’re that worried, we can talk to them.”

            “We have to do better than that,” said Charlie fiercely. Everyone exchanged looks. That meant they were about to be dragged into one of Charlie’s ideas.

            “Is it too late to escape?” muttered Husk.

            “Probably,” said Angel. He offered Husk a smile. “But it’s for (Y/N), so I can put up with it.”

l

            “Is everyone ready?” said Charlie, bouncing around.

            “After all the hours we put into decorating? We better be,” sighed Husk.

            The entire foyer was covered in rainbows and sparkles. In typical Charlie fashion, she had decided to go as dramatic as she could. She had also forced outfits or at least pins onto everyone in the hotel.

            Husk had a bowtie in pansexual colors, Angel Dust had a crop top that said “I <3 Gay People,” Vaggie had a dress with lesbian colors, and Charlie had a bisexual flag wrapped around herself. Charlie had tried to approach Alastor with an aroace pin, but Alastor had been confused, and, since no one wanted to be the one to explain to him what it meant, they had decided to back off. Finally, Charlie had gotten nonbinary and aroace flags for (Y/N). She was really excited to help (Y/N) be prouder in who they were. Seriously, she was vibrating in excitement.

            “We’re back!” said Rosie, who had taken (Y/N) out shopping as a ruse to have them leave the hotel (as soon as Charlie explained what she wanted to do for (Y/N), Rosie had been on board).

            “I feel like I’ve been through Hell,” groaned (Y/N), holding a bunch of bags from their excursion with Rosie.

            “It was for a good cause,” said Rosie, patting their roses affectionately. She took the bags and put them down. “Fashion and fun.”

            “Surprise!” Charlie threw confetti in the air and turned on the rainbow disco ball.

            (Y/N) stared at the decorations and their friends. A banner read “Happy Pride,” and everyone was dressed in fun outfits.

            “Um, what?” said (Y/N).

            “Welcome to our Pride Celebration!” said Charlie eagerly.

            “We’re already in Pride Ring,” said (Y/N), confused.

            “This is for being queer, kid,” said Angel, laughing.

            (Y/N) frowned. “Okay…”

            Husk rolled his eyes and got to the point so that (Y/N) didn’t keep beating themself up. “You’re allowed to be queer. Whatever shit your parents told you, that is not part of the reason you’re in Hell.”

            “It isn’t?” said (Y/N) uncertainly.

            “That would be silly nonsense!” said Alastor, laughing wildly. “The fact that you believed that is amusing! Honestly, if that was why people were in Hell, we’d be even more overcrowded than we are.”

            Vaggie winced at Alastor’s terrible explanation. “What he means is that we did other things to end up in Hell. None of them revolve around our gender or who we’re attracted to.”

            “So don’t think that about yourself!” said Charlie, hugging (Y/N). She flung the flags around their shoulders. “You don’t have to have a gender, and you don’t have to be into anyone, and that doesn’t make you a bad person!”

            “No, you’re in Hell because you killed people!” chirped Alastor.

            Angel winced, and Vaggie groaned.

            “Alastor…” said Charlie, coughing.

            Alastor waved a hand. “They know it’s true!”

            (Y/N) cleared their throat and nodded. “I’m here for a reason.” They smiled at the others. “But…I guess it’s not for being myself.”

            “There you go, little sprout,” said Rosie fondly, smiling. “Now, let’s go celebrate who you are.”

            (Y/N) smiled. They actually had a family now. They could be themself, and they didn’t have to feel guilty. Well, they still felt some shame, but religious guilt was hard to get rid of. (Y/N) could work on it, though. It would take time, but, hey, they were in Hell for eternity. They had nothing but time.

l

            (Y/N) smiled as their friends danced to music. They hung back, still slightly overwhelmed at everything, but they were happy. After their life, they had a lot of unhandled guilt regarding aspects of who they were and the…situation they lived in during their mortal life, but having this, having their friends. It helped (Y/N). It made them feel whole.

            (Y/N) wrapped the flags tighter around themself.

            “Not enjoying the party?” Alastor appeared beside them.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I am. I’m just taking a break from the energy. Charlie has a lot of it,” they chuckled.

            “Hm, yes, I don’t understand why she put this on, but it was entertaining to see everyone working so hard for some rainbows!” said Alastor.

            “It was nice of them,” said (Y/N). “I mean, I always thought I was strange in life for not feeling like I connected to the, uh, boxes people put me into. Gender and liking people and stuff.”

            “That stuff is all nonsense,” said Alastor. “Acting like anyone really wants to be around anyone or be anything is silly.” He laughed. “But my oh my is it amusing to watch people try to fit those roles when you can just…not.” He grinned.

            (Y/N) smiled slightly. Alastor had an interesting perspective on things, but he was supportive. He might be old-fashioned, but he wasn’t homophobic or transphobic.

            “I don’t like being pushed into roles,” agreed (Y/N).

            Alastor’s smile widened. “Good. I don’t want my protégé fitting a mold.”

            (Y/N) smiled again, and on the edges of the room, lavender flowers bloomed.

Taglist:

@kyalov

@pandaquick

@boredwithlifeatthispoint

@jaytheaceenby

@paastaboi

@bettybabys

@gxdoesstuff

@grippleback-galaxy

@just-here-reading

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@im-making-an-effort

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2023

May 28th Prompt: Free Space

Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6

@steddie-week

(Warning for queer slurs, but spoken in love, if that makes sense?)

“I hate you,” Robin hisses, eyes glassy. She covers her mouth, shakes her head. “Steve. Holy shit.”

He’s looking at her with an unreadable expression. His eyes are also glassy. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s gonna love it. Fuck. Fuck you, dingus, I didn’t want to cry today.”

He laughs, then, and gathers her into his arms. “Thanks for letting me practice on you, Robbie.”

“I’m never doing that again. Holy shit.”

Steve smirks. “It’s alright. I promise to cry whenever you practice on me for Vickie.”

She pinches his side. He elbows hers. “Let me know when you decide to do it, yeah? I’ll steal Jon’s camera.”

Steve snorts. “Just borrow it like a normal person, Robs.”

“Literally when have I ever been normal.”

“…Fair point.” He shifts. “You think he’s gonna like it? For real?”

“If he doesn’t like it I’m taking your nail bat and practicing with his head.”

“Robin, oh my god.” He laughs, probably more than the joke warrants—especially considering he’s not entirely sure she’s joking—but he’s so relieved. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, dingus. Just tell me when.”

“Um. Tomorrow night, actually. I’m taking him back to Hawkins, to the quarry.”

She makes a face. “Why there?”

“It was our first date. We had a picnic.”

“Oh my god,” Robin says, then her eyes widen. “Wait. Steve. Steve. You have a ring.”

Steve laughs, digs his hand into his pocket. “I was wondering when you’d ask.”

“Oh, fuck you,” she says, grabbing at his hand and peeling his fingers open, grabbing the ring as soon as she can, turning it and inspecting it. She frowns a little, looking intently at the inside. “What-”

Steve smiles. “I love you in Elvish.”

“You’re both suck dorks.” She looks up at him, smiles. “He’s gonna absolutely love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You know he’s head over heels for you.”

Steve blushes. “I still don’t know how.”

“Because you deserve it, dingus, you’re a good guy. A really good guy. And, according to everyone who likes guys, you’re extremely attractive.”

Steve laughs. “Thanks, Robin.”

“You’re welcome.”

A key in the lock startles them, and Robin slips the ring back into Steve’s pocket a second before the door opens. “Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie says, smiling at Steve, before turning to smirk at Robin. “Hey, freeloader.”

She squawks and launches herself at him, clinging on like a koala. “I’ll show you freeloader.”

“Oh my god get off of me you weigh a ton, Stevie, baby, help me!”

Steve just laughs. “You brought this upon yourself, babe.”

“Ah!” Eddie winces. “Jesus, Robs, elbows! In my spleen! How the fuck did you even do that, you fucking contortionist?”

“Dick.”

“Dyke.”

“Faggot.”

“Jesus fuck,” Steve mutters, eyeing the two of them. “It’s impossible for there to be peace when you two are together, isn’t it?”

They both look at him and answer simultaneously. “Yes.”

They both laugh as Robin drops off of Eddie, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she ruffles his hair. He grins and kisses her forehead before moving to embrace Steve, wrapping him in a hug and kissing his temple. He sighs, long and content. “It’s good to be home.”

Steve chuckles. “Was today that bad?”

“No, just long. Dinner?”

“In the oven.”

Just then the timer dings, and Robin races past them, yelling over her shoulder, “I’ll get it!”

They both chuckle, then Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

“We’re going to Hawkins tomorrow.”

Eddie’s brows scrunch up. “What?”

“Hawkins. Tomorrow. I’m the one with hearing loss, babe.”

“Actually, with your hearing aids, I’m pretty sure you can hear better than I can.”

“Fuck off.”

“Mmm, no. Something about how you love me.”

Steve softens. “Something like that,” he agrees, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips, swaying them in place, like they’re dancing. “I already called off for you. And for me. It’s overnight, but just for a night. We’re gonna drive back the next day.”

Eddie smiles. “Am I ever gonna understand what goes on in your head?”

Steve laughs. “You already do. Sometimes you know me better than I know myself.”

Eddie nudged Steve’s nose with his own. “Something about how I love you.”

“Something like that,” Steve agrees, then lets Eddie seal their lips together.

That is, until a knitted potholder flies into their faces. “Dinner time,” Robin says brightly when they break apart, like she isn’t the reason for the airborne potholder.

“And you’re sure you can’t tell me why we’re going to Hawkins?” Eddie wheedles for what feels like the millionth time.

“Nope,” Steve says happily, popping the p. “You’ll just have to wait. Enjoy the suspense. I am.”

“You’re only enjoying it because you know where we’re going,” Eddie argues.

“Exactly,” Steve says, then takes Eddie’s hand. “You’re gonna love it, Eds. Please stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” Eddie says, then slumps when Steve just turns an eyebrow on him. “Okay, maybe I’m worrying a little. But only a very little!”

Steve chuckles. “Sure, babe.” A few minutes later, he reaches up to turn the radio down. “How’d you feel about no music for a while?”

“Okay,” Eddie says immediately, looking at Steve. “Are you okay? Headache?”

Steve smiles, brings Eddie’s hand up to his mouth to kiss it. “No headache, I’m okay. I was actually wondering if you’d read to me for a bit.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “You brought a book?”

Steve hums. “In the backseat, blue bag.”

Eddie reaches back and rifles around for a minute, then looks at Steve with a delighted expression. “I’m kissing you as soon as you stop driving.”

Steve chuckles. “Duly noted. Start wherever you want.”

Eddie blinks. “I’m in the middle of this one.”

“I know.”

“You won’t have any idea what’s going on.”

“I like listening to you.”

“You’re a sap,” Eddie says, even more delighted. “Holy fuck, I love you. Okay, um, I’m on chapter ten. The choices of Master Samwise. Frodo was lying face upward on the ground and the monster was bending over him, so intent upon her victim that she took no heed of Sam and his cries, until he was close at hand. As he rushed up he saw that Frodo was already bound in cords, wound about him from ankle to shoulder, and the monster with her great forelegs was beginning half to lift, half to drag his body away.”

He continues reading, getting more and more into it, affecting accents for the different voices, slowing down for some parts and speeding up for others, and Steve thinks his heart might burst for how much he loves this man.

They arrive in Hawkins before too long, and the first thing they do—just like every time they have to go into Hawkins for whatever reason—is visit Wayne.

Eddie blinks when he opens the door. “What the fuck?”

Steve and Wayne share a look borne of knowing Eddie. “You alright, Wayne?”

Wayne waves him off, makes a face at his cane. “Fine. Slight accident at work, fell wrong, banged my hip. I still get around fine and I didn’t want you two worryin’ none.”

“That’s our job, old man,” Eddie says, pulling Wayne into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you boys, too.” He hugs Steve next. “C’mon in, make yourselves at home, y’know the drill. Steve, you wanna grab us some beers?”

“Love to,” Steve replies with a chuckle, following Wayne inside.

They talk and catch up for a few minutes before Eddie excuses himself to use the restroom. “Your stuff’s in the pantry,” Wayne murmurs to Steve. “Want to run it out to the car before he gets back?”

“Oh,” Steve says, like he just realized. “I asked after you’d fallen, didn’t I?”

Wayne hums noncommittally. “Not like I minded. Was just about goin’ stir crazy with the time off work.”

Steve chuckles, leans in to hug Wayne, and goes to put the bag in the car.

A few minutes later they’re hugging goodbye. “Robin’s here to take pictures,” Steve murmurs in Wayne’s ear. “I’ll get her to drive you up to Indy for the dinner tomorrow.”

“‘Preciate it,” Wayne says, clapping Steve on the back before turning to Eddie. “Get in here, boy.”

Eddie laughs and hugs his uncle. “Love ya, Wayne.”

“You too, kid. Take good care of ‘im, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “We’ll see you later.”

“Mhm. You kids have fun.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve as soon as they’re back in the car. “That wasn’t what we came down here for.”

“Nope,” Steve agrees. “You’ll see soon enough, Eds.”

Eddie sighs and collapses back into his seat. Steve just grins, wholly in love.

Soon, though, he sits up again, interest piqued. “Are we going to the quarry?”

“Got it in one.”

“Steve,” Eddie says slowly, suspiciously. “What are we doing here?”

Steve doesn’t answer for a few minutes, just plays with Eddie’s fingers with one hand, the other on the wheel, his eyes never leaving the road. “Remember the first time we went to the quarry?”

“Must’ve been eight years ago, now, huh?”

“Just about,” Steve agrees. “We were just kids, terrified and halfway in love and no clue about how our lives would turn out. But we made it. Against all odds, we made it.” He glances at Eddie, smiles. “Thought it would be kinda poetic, coming back here.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees softly, rapt attention on Steve.

“So,” Steve continues, shrugging. “There’s some stuff in the back. Thought it might be nice to have a picnic again. Just to take some time off and remember how it was back then, think about where we were versus where we are.”

“Ugh,” Eddie says, glassy-eyed. “What have you done to me, I used to be cool.”

Steve laughs. “You’ve always been a nerd, babe. Pretty sure I’m the only one who thinks you’re cool.”

“Well, joke’s gonna be on you when we have a kid and they think I’m the coolest dad ever.”

Steve blinks, smiling even as Eddie freezes beside him. “I bet they will, Eds.”

That small sentence is enough to release the tension coiling inside Eddie, flowing out and leaving him looking at Steve, besotted.

Steve parks and they make their way to the edge, a mirror of all those years ago. Steve unfolds a blanket and lays it out, thrusting the bag at Eddie. “Here, start getting the food out, please.”

Eddie’s eyebrows steadily climb higher as he unpacks. Sandwiches, fruits, brownies, and drinks. Both of their favorites, and Steve makes a mental note to do something for Wayne soon, because nobody deserves the actual angel that is Wayne Munson.

They eat and talk and joke around, and kiss—a lot—and just as they’re finishing, the first raindrop splatters down.

Steve looks up, dismayed, to see dark clouds all around them.

Eddie whoops and jumps up, packing everything up and stuffing it back in the car, before running back to Steve and swinging him around in a hug, laughing. “What,” Steve says, but he’s laughing too, because he can’t not be happy when Eddie’s happy.

Eddie stops, sets him down, and grabs both his hands, looking Steve in the eyes. “Do you remember a few days ago when we were watching Singing in the Rain?”

The last time they’d seen the movie was at least four months ago. “Sure.”

“And you were sighing, all forlorn, and I asked what was wrong? And you said you thought you would’ve liked to dance around with someone in the rain?”

Steve can’t help the laugh. “I’m in love with your brain. That was at least five years ago, Eds.”

Eddie frowns. “No, that can’t be right, that was like, a week ago.”

Steve laughs harder. He can’t tell if the water on his cheeks is rain or tears. He doesn’t really care. “It was at least five years ago,” he assures his boyfriend.

“Huh,” Eddie says, shrugging. “Okay, well, I waited and waited and waited and it never worked out. It either always rained while we were asleep or while we were at work, or if we weren’t either of those things, it was a thunderstorm, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna take you out in that. So.” He grins, wide and unashamed, and bows, offering Steve a hand. “May I have this dance?”

Steve’s going to die and it’s going to be Eddie’s fault. His heart is just going to give out one day because it can’t take how much he loves Eddie. “Of course,” Steve answers, taking Eddie’s hand, and Eddie lights up, dragging Steve into a crushing hug and pressing their lips together in a bruising kiss. “I love you,” he murmurs against Eddie’s lips. His breath hitches. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much,” Eddie responds softly, wiping away Steve’s tears. “Happy?”

“Beyond,” Steve answers, floundering for a way to tell Eddie exactly how he’s feeling. But then Eddie smiles at him, and his smile is wobbly, and Steve suddenly knows Eddie knows exactly how he’s feeling.

They sway together for minutes or hours or days, Steve doesn’t know or care, letting the rain on the leaves and the ground be the rhythm they move to, an unhurried dance that somehow means everything.

The rain eventually lets up, and Steve pulls away after a few minutes, so they’re holding hands. “I have a question.”

“Okay.”

“We’ve known each other for a little over eight years now. We saved the world and managed to fall in love in the middle of it. The Shire was burning, we defeated Sauron, and I carried you out of Mordor. Against all odds we made it out alive, and against all odds we made it out of the Shire, and against all odds we made it together. It’s been eight years and every one’s been an adventure. Every day has been an adventure with you. And I may not know what our lives may hold next, but I know whatever the adventure is, I don’t want to do it without you by my side.” He kneels, pulling out the ring, and Eddie gasps, tearing up.

“Stevie-”

“So,” he continues. “Eddie. I know we can’t legally get married. I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to, but I don’t care. I don’t need the government to tell me who I can and can’t marry. I love you, baby, and if you’ll have me, I’ll love you forever. Will you fuck the government and marry me?”

Eddie’s shaking. “That,” he manages after a minute, “was metal as fuck, baby.” He sniffs, shakes his head, and laughs. “Of course. Of course I’ll marry you. We’ll flip off the whole of the government together.”

“Hell yeah,” Steve says, grinning, and stands. “Before you put the ring on, though, there’s something I want you to see.” He turns it, points out the inscription on the inside, and Eddie tackles him with a yell, and they both go down laughing.

“Baby,” Eddie manages after a minute. “Holy shit. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks rhetorically, and they both watch as he slides the ring onto his fiancé’s finger.

It’s a perfect fit.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

warnings: violence, injury, dark humor

"I swear I'm telling the truth!" Dwight pleaded. "Please! You have to believe me!"

You finished binding his hands and then stepped back, withdrawing your pistol from the sheath on your hip. "Shut the fuck up. I'm pretty sure we don't have to do anything," you snapped back, shooting him a glare.

"I promise you, I want the same things you do n—AH! FUCK! OH, SHIT!"

You looked down at your gun which was still smoking from the barrel. The bullet had struck Dwight in the leg. "Oh, oops," you said lazily.

Daryl glanced between you and Dwight, chewing on his bottom lip. "I think accidentally shootin' somebody calls fer more than 'oops'," he drawled.

You were digging in your pack now and pulled out a roll of gauze. "Who says it was an accident?" you said, looking up at Daryl. "He shot you. He tortured you. He fuckin' killed Denise. He's lucky I aimed for his leg."

Daryl eyed you, a queer expression on his face. He watched you approach Dwight, who was still whimpering, with the gauze. "Oh, be quiet. You're gonna be fine..." you snapped at him.

Daryl drifted over as you wrapped Dwight's leg. "First, yer a little scary sometimes," he said, though you could hear the smile in his voice. "Second, yer sayin' ya shot him... for me?"

You stood up and Daryl handed you his bandana to wipe Dwight's blood from your hands. You met his blue eyes and nodded. "Kinda. Yeah."

Daryl let out a gruff laugh and shook his head. "Might be the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me," he joked.

You cocked your head at him. "Really? That's lame. Wait until you see what I got you for your birthday," you said, smiling at him.

"Ain't a dead body is it?" he drawled, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

"If I can get to Negan it might be..."

Prompt: "Oh, oops" / "I think accidentally shooting somebody calls for more than 'oops'."

[paigegonerogue]

Analyzing the new trailer instead of doing schoolwork because it’s more important than my future.

HBO logo on blurry backgrounds… oooooh, it gets me so hyped.

”David? I knew a David once. He was a weird little queer boy.”

“Seems like we’re talking about different David’s, then…”

Catherine O’Hara is a therapist/Jackson resident confirmed! No sneaky editing here!

They love each other so much😭 Can’t wait to see this guitar lesson❤️❤️

Gah, this scene is gonna break me😭❤️ also holy heck this set design!

I think this person is Ellie, since you can see the fur on the hood of the jacket. The person next to her on the lighter horse is most likely Dina, then.

The porch scene😭 also I’m not sure how anyone can think Bella doesn’t look 19 in this, because the weariness of our little Ellie is absolutely heartbreaking💔

“Don’t mind me, just washing the blood off my knife knife”

I believe this scene is during the infected attack, since they’re wearing the same clothes.

Also, this isn’t Tommy’s eye injury, I don’t think. However, because of Maria’s eggplant jacket we can see that it’s her in this scene:

Maria’s favorite is eggplant purple confirmed??

This is the scene from the promo shots that were released. You can tell because of the setting and Ellie’s outfit.

Abby mourning her dad. So psyched to see Kaitlyn Dever, watch Dopesick if you haven’t!

Craig Mazin: Oh, you wanted more infected did you? Huh? *spits* Fuck you! I’m the boss! Here’s your fucking infected!

Pretty sure the gun is Joel’s… hahahaha I’m gonna die hahahaha

Going back to the first horsey picture, this is probably Dina and Ellie, with Dina on the lighter horse.

First close-up look of the Scars!! Wooooooo!!

Well this is terrifyingly AWESOME

I just love Ellie’s little hair curl here

Tortured Seraphite and Jeffrey Wright looking incredibly scary. Love it.

This is the infected attack on Jackson, probably. Same type of walls and the snowy environment.

🎵Scars burning alive, you know how I fee-ee-eel🎵

It’s September, take your damn Santa hat off, dead-boy. Also, this is the train sequence for sure. At least that’s what I got judging from the red lighting and… the fact they’re in a train…

I think this is Joel, judging from the general physique and facial hair. Also BELLA STOP YOU’RE GONNA KILL ME!!

Joel loves his coffee❤️

[unclewaynemunson]

Eddie knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows the risk, he knows the danger, he knows how stupid it is. But the thing is, he's never been good at avoiding risks or not being stupid. So here he is, pressing Ray against the wall of the Hideout, because he's five beers and three tequila shots in, and he wants it, no, he needs it, he needs to feel something to make that gnawing feeling in his chest go away, and Ray is available and willing and honestly not too bad considering the size of the queer dating pool around a town like Hawkins.

'Eddie.' Ray pulls back in a somewhat half-hearted attempt to slow him down. 'We're not at some gay club in Indy, man, you shouldn't –'

'Shouldn't I?' Eddie interrupts him. 'What if I don't care that we're not in Indy?' His lips find Ray's again, and Ray doesn't make any other attempts to cease what they're doing, so he supposes it's all good and presses his whole body as close to Ray's as he possibly can. He's swaying on his feet a little bit and his head is spinning, but Ray's arms around his back are keeping him steady enough – until a sudden blow lands against his shoulder and he finds himself stumbling backwards.

Fuck. He should've known, of course. Something about not taking risks, right?

‘The hell are you doing, freak?’

He blinks rapidly to get the blurry blonde-haired face opposite him into his focus.

‘What does it look like we’re doing?’ he scoffs.

It’s Jason Carver, he now realizes, because of-fucking-course it is. The guy brusquely shoves him against the wall; beside him, he hears Ray utter a scared gasp. He blindly grabs Ray’s wrist, because no matter the haze in his brain, he still thinks he should probably do something to comfort the guy - and he watches Jason’s eyes flick down at the movement before they settle back onto Eddie’s face.

‘Looks like you’re practicing sodomy out in the open,’ Jason breathes out.

Eddie can’t help it - he laughs. ‘You’re about ten years behind, Carver. Nothing illegal ‘bout that anymore.’

‘Tell that to Leviticus 18:22. “Do not have sexual rela-”‘

‘What part of me makes you think I give a single shit about goddamn Leviticus?’

‘Eddie,’ Ray chimes in, with a slightly begging edge to his voice that Eddie has only heard in very different circumstances before. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

Jason settles his gaze onto Ray now, loosening his grip on Eddie’s upper arms a little bit. His blue eyes look innocent as ever, but that’s exactly the thing that makes Jason Carver so dangerous - Eddie knows that all too well.

‘No, you’re not going anywhere yet.’ A slight smile is playing around his lips, as if he’s actually enjoying this - which he is, of course, the fucking psycho. ‘I think I’m gonna need to put the fear of God back into you two first.’

His strike is sudden and unexpected despite the build-up; Eddie didn’t actually think he’d have it in him. An involuntary gasp escapes his lips when he witnesses how Ray’s head gets knocked against the wall of the building with a thump that blends right in with the loud bass emerging from the bar.

The alcohol has made Eddie slow - too slow - and Jason catches his wrist before he can punch back properly.

‘Ray -’ Eddie pants.

But Ray is already getting away, running as fast as he can across the parking lot without even once looking back. Jason’s eyes flash quickly back and forth between the two boys, but he seems to decide that going after Ray isn’t quite worth it if he has the superior target - the drunk freak - right in front of him. He twists Eddie’s wrist into a painful angle with his left arm, using his right for a well-aimed blow against Eddie’s jaw.

Eddie tries to aim his knee at Jason’s most vulnerable parts, but he’s too sluggish and Jason too quick on his feet, and before he can really shake off the stars that are dancing around in his vision, he feels another two hits against his face and then one in his stomach, making him gasp for air as he tries to find some support from the building behind him. Before he knows it he’s knocked down to the ground - but then, another pair of legs appears in his vision and when he lifts his head, he sees Jason being knocked back a few steps by someone - no, not just someone - by Steve.

Before Jason can even raise his hand to hit back, Steve grabs his wrist and twists his arm while landing a punch in his face with his free hand. Eddie scrambles to his feet, getting himself out of the way of Steve throwing his whole body into the fight, shoving Jason against the wall; a choked groan escapes from Jason’s mouth when Steve hits him right in his stomach.

Steve catches hold of the other guy’s collar as he presses him against the wall. Jason’s usually meticulously styled hair is hanging over his eyes and his lip is bleeding.

‘You stay the hell away from my friends or the next time we run into each other will do some irreparable damage to that pretty face of yours, Carver. Now get the hell outta here.’ There’s more of the old King Steve in there than Eddie has seen in years, and it’s twisting his stomach in a way that has nothing to do with the punch he received there half a minute ago.

‘Fuck off, Harrington,’ Jason spews out when Steve releases his grip. ‘You’re pathetic. Have fun hanging out with the freaks.’

But words can’t hurt - not when they’re coming out of Jason Carver’s mouth anyway - so Steve gives him a final shove into his back as the guy stumbles away with a limp in his step.

Steve turns around to face Eddie, his chest still heaving.

‘You won a fight!’ Eddie exclaims triumphantly, while making the mental note not to forget any details so he can tell Dustin all about it tomorrow. He strongly doubts how much he’ll remember by the next day, however, and he kinda wishes he hadn’t been drinking this much.

But Steve doesn’t look nearly as victorious as he should; there’s a frown on his face and his lips are pressed tightly together.

‘Jesus, Eddie, what happened?’ His eyes are wide as they wander over Eddie’s face, and this is probably not the moment to think anything along the lines of ‘Holy fucking shit, Steve is worried about me!’ but it’s pretty clear by now that Eddie doesn’t really care about right moments anyway.

‘Nothing to worry about, Stevie.’ He tries to grin, but the movement is hurting his jaw and he has to bite back a groan. ‘Just a good old-fashioned Indiana hate crime.’

The frown on Steve’s face deepens. ‘Did he - did you -’

He doesn’t finish his question, and Eddie merely shrugs in response.

‘Jesus Christ.’ Steve brushes both his hands over his face in an exasperated motion. Then, his expression settles into something softer, more cautious.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Aside from the fact that my hookup fucking left me to be beaten to pulp by the local Christian psychopath and my head feels like it might split in two, yes, never better.’

Steve huffs. ‘Fair enough,’ he mumbles under his breath. ‘Alright, why don’t we go inside and get you cleaned up?’

He holds out his arms to support Eddie, but Eddie stubbornly chooses to ignore that - until he takes the first step and the combined dizziness of the shots and the fight almost immediately sends him crashing to the pavement.

‘Woah, I got you, man.’

Steve’s strong arms keep him steady before he can even blink, and maybe it’s not so bad after all, to feel those warm hands firmly around his arms with every step he takes.

Eddie clenches his jaw and tries to ignore the bass that starts hammering into his skull as soon as they step back inside the bar, and he lets Steve guide him to the restroom without paying attention to any of the staring patrons around them.

Steve lifts Eddie up like he weighs nothing and positions him on the sink, then swiftly turns on the tap and gets himself some paper towels. Eddie notices the blood on his knuckles, but Steve seems to be more worried about Eddie’s face than about his own injuries: he starts carefully dabbing the bruises at Eddie’s temple with the bundle of wet towels in his hand, with a concentrated frown between his brows and his eyes fixed on the damage that has been done. There seems to be a kind of routine to his movements, and something about that kind of makes Eddie want to cry.

‘You gonna tell me what happened exactly?’ Steve asks.

‘You know what happened,’ Eddie replies stiffly. ‘Forgot that this is what happens when you kiss someone.’

The worry on Steve’s face turns into skepticism.

‘So let me get this straight,’ he says, now moving the wet paper towel down over Eddie’s cheek, ‘You decided it was a good idea to have a full-on makeout session with a guy right outside the Hideout for everyone to see and -’

‘So I deserved it?’ Eddie cuts him off, a biting undertone to his voice.

Steve’s gaze flashes away from Eddie’s cheek and settles on his eyes. ‘Don’t put words into my mouth, man,’ he says, warning. ‘I just - I don’t want you to get hurt if you don’t have to. Were you even thinking at all?’

‘Hm. If you put it like that, it really does sound stupid, huh?’

‘Well, I hope it was worth it.’ There it is again, that coldness.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Hooking up with some random dude outside a bar. I hope it was worth the punches. Seriously Eddie, why would you even do that?!’

He probably shouldn’t be saying this. No, he really shouldn’t be saying this. But there’s something about the way in which Steve is phrasing all this shit that makes him feel cornered. ‘Because I needed to forget about you.’ He lets it slip out before he can stop it. God-fucking-damnit.

Steve’s hand freezes mid-dab, cloth hovering in the air in front of Eddie’s skin. His mouth opens, the inevitable What?! frozen on his lips.

‘There you have it,’ Eddie says with a stiff shrug. ‘Not only stupid enough to get beaten up while I shoulda known better, but also to fall for my straight friend like the total idiot I so clearly am.’ He can’t even look at Steve anymore, fixes his gaze on a point somewhere behind Steve’s shoulder. ‘You know what, you should go home. I’ll get myself cleaned up; I can walk to Reefer Rick’s and crash there.’

But Steve moves to position himself right in front of Eddie, making it impossible for him to jump off the sink like he was planning to.

‘No, we’re not going anywhere.’

‘Steve, c’mon, this whole shitshow has been embarrassing enough as it is, alright?’ He feels the burning behind his eyes; he knows what’s gonna come next and he doesn’t want Steve to be the witness to that. ‘I don’t wanna talk about it. Just - at least give me the dignity to have my pathetic breakdown in private.’

‘Well, I do wanna talk about it, and you know what, Eddie?’ There’s a certain edge to Steve’s voice that Eddie can’t quite place. ‘You are a total idiot. I don’t know why the hell you would ever assume I’m straight, so honestly, that’s on you, man.’

It takes a good few seconds before Eddie’s hazy brain finally catches up to Steve’s words. Wait, what?!

‘Steve, I swear to God, if you’re fucking with me right now...’

‘I wish I was.’ And something about the complete seriousness with which Steve says that, finally makes the penny drop in Eddie’s head.

For a couple of seconds, he can only stare at Steve, frozen in time and in the hundreds of words that are hidden behind that soft brown-eyed gaze of his. Then, he stretches out his hands, wraps them around Steve’s waist, tugging him closer between his legs, reaching -

But Steve doesn’t kiss him. He merely envelops Eddie in his strong arms, tangles his fingers into his hair, rests his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck...

‘Steve...’

‘Not right now, Eddie,’ Steve murmurs into his hair. ‘Not like this. Just let me hold you, okay?’

So he does. He lets Steve hold him. He feels his arms around him, feels his waist pressed against the inside of his thighs, feels the warmth radiating from his body, hears the steady breathing in his ear, smells the scent of hairspray and aftershave and something he never smelled before. And he lets Steve take him home, where he keeps clinging onto him like a koala to a tree - and he doesn’t even mind that nothing else happens while he’s in Steve’s bed for the first time, because he’s there, and Steve’s there with him - and for now, that’s more than enough.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ Comin’ back for more? ❞

ghostface!leon kennedy x ftm!ghostface!reader | r! has had top surgery and bottom growth | porn with some plot | friends-with-benefits, implied attempt at a relationship (r! had commitment issues, lmao) | wc: 8k | not proofread

warnings: yandere!leon and yandere!reader, piquerism, carving his name into r! skin, blood kink, overstimulation, leon takes pictures and videos of r!, dumbification, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick), use of boypussy & boy cunt.

“Actually,” Leon sighs, “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen him.”

Her shock is evident but to Leon’s surprise, it turns into exasperation.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Kennedy?” Ashley puts her hands on her hips and then points a finger at his way.

“He likes you. (Y/N) (L/N). He likes you, Leon Kennedy. So,” she comes around to him and despite the height difference, Leon feels slightly intimidated by her frown.

“Just fuck his brains out and tell him you’re not gonna let him go! That’s the only way you’re getting through to him, okay? God, I swear the both of you are so dimwitted!”

authors' note: heed the warnings, leon and y/n are high-key deranged, lmao. also i wrote this in a rush but enjoy!!

“Do you think he’s like…big?”

That alone was enough to make you rip your eyes away from your laptop. She chews on her glossy lip, twisting her phone to show you a Tinder profile of some douchebag that checks off everything on her list.

Awkwardly angled photos to show his jawline? Check.

Dimples? Check.

Two pairs of horrendous matching sweats? Check

A random photo of him holding some poor relative's baby to appeal to women? Check.

“Surprised he didn’t leap out from your brain,” your dry tone makes Ashley pout. “Honestly, be a little proud of me, (Y/N). He’s not holding a fish,” she turns the phone to herself. Pursing your lips, you return your attention to the report that’s been rotting in your laptop.

“Yeah, his sister is probably relieved her baby’s face is plastered on a hook-up app.” Ashley reaches over and smacks your hand. The yelp you let out turns a few heads; dark eyebags and caffeine-fueled veins already making them irritable. Exclamations of pain weren’t appreciated.

“You’re such a pessimist, (Y/N). I swear I have no idea how we ended up being friends.” An attempt was made at stifling your laughter but it tumbles out from between your fingers in quick intakes of breaths. The glaring turns into mumbling but none would speak up. Between Ashley’s status and your own, along with your golden reputation, no one could find themselves wishing ill upon the both of you.

Ashley was from a wealthy family. All you'd need to do is look at her to see she was dripped in luxury brands that were so exclusive you probably never heard of them. She met you through one of her mother's annual parties. It was an attempt on her end to play matchmaker with Ashley so she was quick to push Ashley and your sibling together.

Unfortunately for her, both you and your sibling were queer. Ashley was just glad to have real friends. How did the saying go? You win some, you lose some?

"You have your mother to thank for that. Remember how she was convinced you were a lesbian because we kept hanging out? Before I came out and everything." Ashley rolled her eyes, leaning on her elbow as she scrolled through the array of people with mild interest.

“Woah, what was that for?” Her lack of reply makes your brows raise. Closing your laptop, you reach a hand out to swipe her phone away. She gasps, attempting to swipe it back but you lean back on the chair, balancing precariously on its two legs. “Give it back, you ass,” she hisses, still trying to keep her voice low as she raises from her seat. Exiting from Tinder, your thumbs work deftly to open her messages and scoff as you go through her archived chats to see her mother’s messages were there. “You put your mom in archive jail? Woah, she must have really pissed you off,” she grunts as she tugs her phone back into her hands. You let her, folding your arms behind your head as she taps out from your intrusion. “What’s up? Did she bug you about university again? I swear she’s as anal about making those planners as you are.” “As opposed to how you live through life relying simply on your phone’s battery? Not to mention, you keep overcharging the hell out of your phone too. You should really change it — “ Ashley tucks her hand to her chest as you stand up, your chair banging as you ground it before you do so. At this point, a few people have plugged in their earphones anyway. “You’re stalling, Ms Graham.”

Ashley does this thing with her mouth. Sucking in her cheeks and chewing the insides as she contemplates spilling the metaphorical can of beans. It seems she relents as she settles next to you. There’s a sense of gratitude in her eyes as your knees are now facing her as you sit.

“These recent killings, it’s got her on edge,” she said. “She’s even been telling me I should have an escort everywhere I go. I don’t know, I just want to be normal. It’s hard enough that people treat me more like a concept or a walking ATM — an escort would just further that divide.”

A glance over her shoulder makes her words more concrete. Their eyes were clear in their intentions; flashes of green embedded in the very whites of their gelatinous orbs. Whether it was envy or greed was hard to decipher but it was clear Ashley wasn’t a person to them. She was a myth brought to life.

“You told her that?” she pushes her lips forward into a pout and you cock a brow. “Like she’d let that be an excuse. I understand her concerns but I’m not a damsel in distress. The Ghostface killings aren’t even aimed at this university, they’re completely random.”

“But you gotta admit, the close proximity would set anyone on edge. Your mother just happened to be someone who was born right on it,” you reach over to poke her cheek and she swats your hand away with a huff. “Can’t you ask her to hire secret agents instead? At least that way, nobody will see them.”

Ashley groans out that you’re the opposite of being helpful. Her phone buzzes in her hand and whatever she reads is clearly exciting enough for her to completely drop the conversation because she reaches forward and smacks your knees so hard it jerks up involuntarily.

“(Y/N), look!”

You’re half-expecting a new Tinder profile but instead, it’s a shittily made poster for a Frat Party. The curling of your lips has Ashley whining and she inches closer — her knees now between yours — as she wags the phone a bit.

“Dude, c’mon! We gotta go, everyone will be there!”

And if everyone was there, Ashley would have to be there too.

“Yeah, what better way to piss off your mother than to go to an overcrowded and overrated Frat Party,” you reply dryly. High schoolers made better posters. This one with the Comic Sans font, blurry PNGs of the hang-tight emoji, and Rick Sanchez lowered your confidence in the Earth's crust. Ashley scoffs.

“Shut up. Besides, the only reason you don’t want to go is because Mr Waitlist will be there,” she dodges your attempt to smack her arm. “Seriously, I have no idea why you choose to be in denial about your feelings for him. The chemistry between you two is insane. It’s almost sickening.”

“Almost? Guess we should try harder,” you mutter as you turn to face your laptop again. Ashley does not relent. “You should. I agree. It’s obvious you two like each other. I’ve already made a wedding plan for you.”

“Ashley,” you groan out. “Nothing is happening. We’re just...close friends.” "Again. Stage 1, denial," your eye-roll makes her inch closer and closer. "Not that anyone would blame you. He looks like some European model even with those weird side-part bangs." "Ashley." The finality in your tone makes her giggle. "(Y/N). You're attracted to him. The second you see him I swear your pupils just blow up bigger than when you're on molly. What's stopping you from just being exclusive-style?" Knowing she won't stop her sudden fixation on the topic, your shoulders droop just as you slip down your chair. Sinking deeper into your oversized hoodie, you sigh and attempt to entertain her as your fingers hover over your keyboard.

"We tried, but it didn't work, Ashley."

"Barely, tried. You had one foot out of the door before the relationship even started. I still remember you trying to keep it a secret, that's not trying that's giving up with extra steps!"

The violent shushing of a particularly peeved student causes Ashley to flinch. Pink dusts across her milky skin and she bows her head apologetically, her teethy grin gone in an instant. He seems satisfied with her expression. That quickly fades when he sees the stare you give him; his brows furrow and he frowns with a slow curl of his nose. Like a kitten hissing.

You recognize him from some of the classes you took. He was the kind of guy who'd continue to badger the professor with questions, acting so smug as he did so and never catching how exasperated they'd be. Obscenely polite because his parents were big spenders in the university's bank account. His greasy fingerprints on the steel frame of his glasses and pathetic excuse of a beard piss you off enough to curl your lips into a wicked grin.

"Sorry, were we too loud?"

The apricot sweater he wears reeks of cologne, the kind that pierces your nose and makes your eyes water from how strong it is. As he lifts his arms to cross it, Ashley straightens her back to put more distance between him.

"The two of you have been loud the second you got here." There's more he wants to say, the twitching of his lips and the tightening of his fingers prove that much. But you're staring up at him like you know something he doesn't — an omen is within your eyes and the chill it gives him shuts him up enough to leave with a comical stomp and huff.

Ashley cringes, glancing around to see if anyone felt the same as he did but is distracted by your question. "Everyone is invited to that party?" Excitement flashes in her eyes as she sees the same in yours.

"Fine. I'll go too."

The music is so loud you're convinced it's rattling your bones. People are spilling out from the threshold of doors, and windows, on the stairs and the porch, and possibly on the sloped roofs of the house. The lights are everchanging. Streams of neon blue, green, and red are flashing through the fog that's flowing down from the corners of the room. The scents. The sounds. The feeling of bodies bumping into you no matter where you walk. It was a goddamn watering hole.

You had come here with Ashley, but she split off with some of her girlfriends. Last time you checked, she'd been invested in some girl's sob story as they crowded around her with red cups in their hands and slurred words. Ashley had given you a grimace but gestured for you to just enjoy herself.

You'd try to but there'd be no point in doing so considering how vapid everyone was.

So you nurse your drink in the corner, back facing the stairs, and smile as people walk by or above you. The music isn't all that bad, typical party music with some early 2000s songs that earns a good 'oh fuck, this is my song!' from the crowd.

Scanning the front door, watching every face that comes in, your hunger becomes more and more endless. Like a predator digging its claws into the bark of trees, you're restless in that little shroud of camouflage; shifting your weight from one side to the other, sighs escaping liquor-flavoured lips; grin getting more and more grim.

The touch on your nape has your head tilting away from him. Those calloused fingerpads — which not many people in this slice of "heaven" had — press into the solid bone on your nape; it elicits a barely there moan and your features soften immediately.

The cup he's holding is perspiring in his hands and you've spent enough time under his hands to know it had every right to be red and sweating. Deft fingers pinch the rim of your cup and you give him no resistance as he pulls it away to trade his drink.

"Thought you said you didn't wanna be here, Trustfund," Leon said as he leaned on the wooden panels of the walls. The shoulder bump he did is deliberate, a soothing croon to ask you to stop staring people down the second they enter the house.

"What gave you that impression, Waitlist?"Leon grunts, downing what little is left in your cup down his throat. Risking a glance away from the entrance, your eyes chase after the trail of wetness that slithers down his chin. God, he was gorgeous. A face so pretty it's no wonder he pisses off other men around him. His odd, dry, humour doesn't exactly help either.

"The lack of replies to my messages, maybe, geez, who knows."

"Oh, poor Leon," your pout earns a frown from him. "Couldn't get your dick wet when I was going through exams? Oh, poor widdle baby," he leans away from your fingers as they invade his face to pinch to what little adolescent fat still stuck to his cheeks.

"Oh, suck a dick, (Y/N)." Your smirk as you bring your lips to the rim of his cup. "Down, boy. We're in public, don't start begging just yet."

Unamused — or attempting to look unamused — Leon simply follows your focused gaze and tilts his head.

"I'll ask then. What's up with the staring problem? You attracted to doors now or what?"

The drink goes down with an awfully wheaty aftertaste and you smack your lips together in bemusement. "Fuck - what beer is this?" "Don't be an ass, they're doing a beer run, alright? I grabbed what I could. Are you gonna answer my question or not?" You swallow with a grimace. "D'you know that kid in Mr Pinto's class? The one with glasses and that god-awful voice? That know-it-all?" Leon nods. "Yeah, kinda looks like the typical nerdy douchebag, right?"

You lean in and Leon lets you. The both of you pretend not to feel the way his breath shudders as your wet lips brush the side of his cheeks.

"I wanna kill that rude little freak. Cut him open and smear his brains all over the fuckin' sidewalk." Leon's eyes widen. As you peer at him through your lashes, his grey-metal eyes all but melt to reveal that bloodthirsty animal stalking between reason and lace-thin morality. He gulps thickly, casting a side-glance briefly to the entrance before he darts them back to you.

"Why?" He strains out after clearing his throat.

Oh, this is why you adored Leon Scott Kennedy.

It was the way he tried so hard to deny how twisted he actually was. That abashed flutter of his lashes, the skim of teeth over his rabbit-tongue-colored lips; everything contrasting to how violently he used his strength to thrust a knife into someone's rib; how easily he swiped and cleaned a hunting blade using his gloves.

The low, guttural, grunts he makes as he thrusts into you during that high. How he's so careful with his strength outside of the bedroom but during the heat of it? He's so shameless that he leaves hand-shaped bruises all over your hips and arms and even leaves indents of his teeth into your flesh. If he was really impatient, he'd fuck you all while wearing the Ghostface mask, holding that still-bloody knife to your throat as he fucked you so hard you walked funny for a day or two.

Despite how much he enjoys it though, he still asks ' why? '

Why him? Did he do something bad to you? Why not him?

Why? Why? Why?

It didn't exactly matter why. Leon never says no to you.

"He was a bitch to Ashley."

Someone bumps into him, and he braces his hand on the base rail of the stairs. Drunken laughter muffles the minute silence as he peers down at you. His broad shoulders look bigger this time. You faintly recalled Ashley slyly mentioning how he seems to work out more often now ("always jogging past near your accommodations, you must've seen him once in a while. Has he ever come over for a quick post-workout boost?" "Gross, Ashley...A few times, yeah -").

"That won't do." He said with furrowed brows. "No, it won't." Circling your arms around his waist, you pull him in with a Cheshire smile.

"Ashley's like family to me. Besides, her mom's been worried about all these — " you giggle, trying to push down the urge to by chewing on your lower lip but failing. "What?" he asks, the tip of his nose on yours as he savours the sound. "C'mon, what'd she say, babe?"

"She's worried about these Ghostface killings," you playfully hiss out. He isn't sure if it's the party, the drinks, the bloodlust, or just you but he starts laughing along with you.

"So we gotta make sure he isn't dangerous for her sake, hm?" He noses under your jaw and the way you turn your face away makes his mouth water. That neck is far too untainted for his own liking; how long has it been since you've fucked? Since he's driven a knife into someone's skull?

Ever since that awkward break-up in your car, after that honest-to-god perfect night of killing that annoying and creepy line cook and fucking under the stars in the woods. That was the last time the two of you fucked and that was months ago. It caught him off-guard. That haze of pleasure being fanned away by the typhoon that was your sudden request to just break up.

The handjob on the wooden floors of your dorm followed by a blowjob was more recent but Leon just wanted to sink into that tight hole again and again for hours for him to be fully satisfied. The only reason he even stopped was because your alarm rang for an early class, one that you apparently couldn't afford to skip. All lies. He knows the alarm was just the weekday alarm that always went off at 9 am — he knows it's because of the beat of silence that followed after you came around his fingers.

The gentle panting from both of you, the sweet kisses he was leaving on your thighs and then your face.

You only pulled away when it got too real.

It just makes him more determined to show you how deep his devotion for you was. Whatever the reason behind your fear of commitment was, there isn't a line Leon wouldn't cross to show you how willing he is to be yours.

"Exactly," you whisper. How he hears it despite the music and people should surprise him but it doesn't. His body is hyperaware of your very presence. The minute changes in your expressions, the octave changes or lilts in your voice, the wordless way you communicate with him from across the room; Leon just knows you.

"A little birdie told me that he actually has a crush on you, Mr Kennedy." Leon doesn't pause in his actions. His tongue laps at the rising pace of your pulse, teeth brushing over skin and you try very hard to continue your speech despite the hand that cups your crotch.

"Somethin' 'bout you helping him pick up his books when the fucker tripped over his own fuckin' feet." You gasped as he started mottling your skin, capillaries just imploding under his ministrations. "Fuck, Leon." The cup is crinkling under your tightening hold and Leon simply cages you in between his toned arms. It's hard to focus on anything past them as you eye the prominent veins that disappear under the sleeves of his black shirt.

"Leon, calm the fuck down." He bites your neck in retaliation and you're glad some popular song plays over the speakers because the cheers that follow mask your moan.

What a ridiculous statement. Here you are, in his hands; perfect and handsome and sexy and yet — not his. It’s all a bit fucked up for him. Growing up alone, life offered no reprieve for little Leon Kennedy. His parents dying while he was young, then going to an orphanage — it all cemented into him that he was fine being independent. A partner sounded nice but he didn’t give it much thought.

Until you came.

Stubborn, silver-tongued, rich, handsome, so fucking handsome.

Not at all his type.

Waitlist, he hated that nickname. So he crashed a little late and unprepared for his first class. Sue him. Not his fault the school plucked out his name late too. Among the giggles of the classroom, yours stood out. It made sense since you were closest to him. Ashley was smacking your arm, sharing glances his way and you turned and mouthed a ‘sorry’ that Leon knew you didn’t even mean.

But then he kept seeing you around. Bumping into him during parties, always sitting near him in classes, accidentally hitting him in the face with a ball while you were chilling on the grass.

Fate was too perfect for him.

Leon was snarky and stubborn and he had nothing to give you that you already didn’t have.

But then, the night he saw you covered in blood. Everything seemed to shift. Because suddenly you weren’t this unreachable, little asshat with a wicked tongue and Leon was no longer a mutt with nothing to offer.

Suddenly, he saw that you were just as twisted and hungry as he was. A lone wolf with its teeth stained and its ribs showing under all that extravagant fur and Leon couldn’t resist himself chasing you after that.

The man who was bleeding out next to you had been desperate to try to sleep with you. The bruising around your neck and the dishevelled state of your clothes pieced the puzzle together. Leon used that to justify killing him.

For you. Just for you.

He was finally using the sharp teeth he had. Those blunt claws he’d been desperately trying to file down dug themselves into the dirt and he ran with you all the way down to Hell. Kicking the earth behind him, his breath visible as his teeth bare into a wolfish grin and you were right there.

Two lone wolves finding each other in a world full of rabbits and squirrels and deers.

Because that's what the both of you were. Not spiders with silk-weaved webs or snakes with venomous fangs. You were a wolf stalking its prey with your tongue lolled out and eyes so wide they shine like the moon.

Unapologetic killer.

If only you’d get the fact that you’re not a solitary animal into your thick skull.

Leon grunts when you pinch his sides, forcing himself to pull away with a disgruntled glare that you return.

“Did you hear what I said about the plan?” He tilts his head. “Was I supposed to?”

You click your teeth, placing your hands firmly on his chest to push him away. Leon resists but he lets you go after a split second.

“Christ, Waitlist.”

Leon reaches his hand out but you take a turn into the living area and suddenly he’s bumping into bodies. They’re bouncing and shaking and he feels like a sailor in rough waters.

“(Y/N)!” his voice doesn’t reach past his own nose. The music is so loud he doubts you’re even deliberately ignoring him. “God fucking dammit!” Leon ignores the hand that clumsily tried to seduce him and the glossy lips that follow it, just shouldering through the sea of people.

The kitchen hails no signs of you. He’s glad to see the beer run was successful enough and grabs a bottle of your favourite to soothe whatever it is he did.

“Leon! You’re here!” Ashley pops up from across the island and Leon smiles at her way. “Hey, Ashley. What’s up?” she eyes him skeptically and places her hands on the island. She quickly regrets this because of how suspiciously sticky it is but doesn’t miss a beat as she asks him; “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen (Y/N) but I guess those beers are for him.”

Ashley wraps her hand around a can and uses the condensation to somehow alleviate the stickiness. She would use the sink but with the state of a poor boy vomitting inside it and the amount of couples fucking in the bathrooms, this was the best she could do.

“Actually,” Leon sighs, “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen him.”

Her shock is evident but to Leon’s surprise, it turns into exasperation.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Kennedy?” Ashley puts her hands on her hips and then points a finger at his way.

“He likes you. (Y/N) (L/N). He likes you, Leon Kennedy. So,” she comes around to him and despite the height difference, Leon feels slightly intimidated by her frown.

“Just fuck his brains out and tell him you’re not gonna let him go! That’s the only way you’re getting through to him, okay? God, I swear the both of you are so dimwitted!”

Ashley walks away and Leon stands there for a second to process what he’d just been told. The beginnings of a smile threaten to crawl onto his face so Leon purses his lips and just walks on towards the hallways to see if you’ve snuck into any of the rooms there.

He instead finds another person. Quite literally, they were shoved straight into his chest (thank god the beer was in a bottle). It takes a minute for Leon to notice him, really notice him, but after their half-assed apologies are shares Leon sees who it is.

From over his shoulder, he spots your half-hidden face just as you slink out of view.

“Hey, you’re...Michael, right?” the brunette perks up considerably and nods. “You’re in Mr Pinto’s class?”

Michael jumps into the conversation. “I am!” he exclaims though considering the state of the party, it is not out of place. Leon smiles charmingly and leans on the wall, offering Michael one of the bottles he’s holding.

His hands practically tremble to take it.

“You’re pretty smart, huh?” Michael scoffs at his words, his cheeks flushed despite not one sip taken. “I guess you can say that, I mean, 4.0 GPA but yeah. I guess I am pretty smart.”

This was going to be a long night, Leon thinks as he takes a swig.

Dancing with Michael proved to be easier than talking to him. He’s much more pleasant when you can’t hear him bragging about being the smartest guy in the room or how his sister is as dumb as bricks (”It’s no wonder she resorted to bulimia as a last resort to get hitched” “Oh, wow.”).

Leon thought rich kids were already unbearable but the smart rich kids were worse. The only thing that kept him sane was the fact that he’d see glimpses of you. A sliver of (H/C) coloured through the flashes of light. At times, he swears he even hears your laughter through the crowd and music.

Michael grabs at his arms and pretends to be coy as he squeezes and asks how much Leon works out. “I see you runnin’ sometimes!” And Leon suppresses the urge to cringe at how close his face is.

Did this make him an asshole? All this pretending to be nice, if God was real, was he shaking his head at Leon?

‘ If God was real he’d open the gates of hell to swallow you up the second you were born, ‘ he thought derisively.

But then, the Devil answers his question in the form of you. He sees you dancing, hands up in the air with your teeth bared in a giant grin. Leon's entranced; your arms slither down to your neck and Leon's not sure how he sees it with the flashing lights but he can see the hickeys he left on you. Michael is speaking, his ears relay to him. But he can’t pull his eyes from you. Leon doesn’t understand how you do it.

When you’re in the room it’s as if you’re the sun; the very center of his universe and he wants to implode into you. Be devoured and destroyed within your maw. A hand on his face and Leon is now staring at Michael. God, he’s staring at Michael.

Before he can speak, Leon asks; “Do you wanna go somewhere more quiet?”

They’re in the back of the house now. Music is more muffled despite the way the walls reverberate. The wood panelling must be screaming from the LED strip lights pasted on it. All the lamps had a red cloth over them, the room would look terrifying if it weren’t for the clouds of smoke and slurred giggling from the bodies on the bean bags.

Michael’s palms get clammy and Leon pretends he doesn’t feel it. Deeper in the room, at the back, where the cove of a past reading nook was built. The heavy velvet curtains stink of weed and cigarettes. He doubts the stains at the end are anything but alcohol or vomit. Aptly named make-out nook, the windows are covered by old sports magazines so no one from the outside can gawk.

Leon pressed Michael to the window panes and he gasps, hands coming to rest on Leon’s waist. He does that annoying squeezing thing that makes Leon’s skin crawl. His lips are on him and Leon narrows his eyes, staring at the smiling bodybuilder with his bulging muscles and tanned skin. Superman underwear and all. Leon wonders what he’d think of the sight before him; if any of these frozen-in-time athletes coo and gasp at the scandalous activities this nook has seen.

The curtains rustle as Michael chews on Leon’s lower lip. He’s biting down harder than he should — Leon jerks back, hissing softly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry — Are you okay?” Michael pauses as the curtains part and your giggles flood through, tendrils of smoke slipping through your teeth. An act. You’re closing in for the kill, and Michael has nowhere to run.

Still, he looks oh-so-smug as he tightens his grip on Leon.

“Leon?” you gasped while Michael sneered at you as he took a handful of Leon’s crotch. Both pretend not to feel how soft he is. He squeezed and purred. Leon’s eyes remained on you, brows raised in a challenge. “He’s busy with me, (L/N). So move along,” Leon slid his toned arms around his waist. The sight was like a match being struck, and your eyes burned with fury.

‘ Now? ‘ his eyes ask. You nod, reaching for the pocket knife you tucked away in your (Leon’s) leather jacket.

‘ Now. ‘

Leon wanted to kiss you so badly that he felt his fingers shake as he reached for his own hidden knife.

“Dude, not cool. You can’t make out with me like 10 minutes ago then just make out with someone else!” You exclaim, clambering into the nook and letting the curtains naturally slip close. “Leon — c’mon,” you beg so sweetly when you’re pretending. Michael sighs, getting his filthy hands off Leon, and faces you.

One finger jabs at your chest and you tilt your head at it.

“Fuck off, alright? Not everyone is dying to fuck your used hole —“

He inhales sharply, lashes fluttering as metal sheathes itself into his flesh. Leon pulls out his knife and then plunges it inside his back.

Again and again and again and again and again.

Michael braces his arms on your shoulders, and your breath shudders. He looks up at you in panic. He doesn't pay attention to the knife you’re holding too, he inhales and the way his mouth opens tells you he’ll try to scream.

The blade sinks through his neck, and when he tries to swallow the blood that floods his airway you can feel his muscles and Adam’s apple squish and move it. So you twist and dig in deeper. Leon’s blade pulls out again, blood is quickly spreading beneath Michael’s legs but the room is already cast in red — as if anyone would see.

“You enjoyed the little shit, Kennedy?” Michael claws at your jacket as you tilt the knife up, slicing through more of him until he starts spasming. His choking and gasping makes you groan in relief, breathing in his death with a smile.

"He was". You don't dare pull out the knife. Not now. A little puddle of blood is fine but more than people will really notice. The thrill of it all is too much for Leon; the crowd of people being hidden only by curtains, a warm body sputtering and choking on you as you held the knife; your eyes staring up at him with nothing but adoration in them.

Try to deny him as much as you want, (Y/N). You can't hide from Leon's hunger.

Ashley's voice echoes through his head.

"Kept groping you like some sort of pervert, what a fucking loser. Heard he got caught stalking the swim team captain. Pathetic, right? Think we can drag this pile of shit to the pool?"

Why are you talking about this waste of space?

Leon grabs him and with no more than a grunt, tosses Michael's body to the window pane where he thuds and slides down onto the floor. Splatters of blood spray onto the magazine covers, forever staining them just like the vomit stains on the curtains, and Leon pushes you against the window.

You replace the knife you held with Leon's jaw, smiling into the kiss as he sticks his tongue into your mouth. Fuck, he tastes good. Like your favorite beer. He's relentless as his hands grab the mounds of your ass.

From the outside, people snicker at the thumps they can hear.

"Fuuuck, Leon — Mfph, you're so fuckin' hasty," you groan. "Sorry for rushing when — fuck — when there's a dead body next to you."

You laugh and when Leon dives in again to suck the soul of your body he tastes the heavy smoke of marijuana lingering in your mouth. Michael is grunting, attempting to pull out the knife in his neck and you're especially cruel as you dig the heel of your shoes into his crotch. When he groans spurts of blood come out of him like a deflated waterbed.

"You're acting like this is something new," you retort. Leon just focuses on your neck again. Sucking over his marks and the slight pain that follows causes you to moan, gripping onto a fistful of his hair as your legs part.

What did Ashley say exactly? Fuck your brains out and tell you he's never letting you go?

He kneels abruptly, you're still catching your breath when he licks up your stomach, his bloodied knife now in his hand. You help him by lifting up your top, watching him lap at your happy trail with a dark blush across your face.

"Gonna suck my dick? You miss it that much?" Leon does not reply. Instead, he unbuttons your pants and you're chewing on your lip in excitement, gulping thickly as he pulls it down under the swell of your ass.

There's a wet patch on your underwear and Leon moans, pulling your pants down even further until it pools at your ankles. His knife is cold on your outer thigh, you hiss softly as the edges press and nick you but his tongue lapping at your dick through the cloth derails any complaints.

"Shiiit, Leon — " he slips the knife under your underwear, the serrated edges licking at your hips before a riiiiiiip! is heard. Ashley would be pissed knowing one of the designer underwear she gave you as a gift was purposefully torn apart but perhaps she'll be forgiving knowing it was to fulfill horny, filthy, purposes.

He must be really fucking excited. Leon's tongue is making a wet spot appear on your underwear and as if flimsily slips away from your hips, you swear you can feel the growl he releases as he sucks your exposed dick.

It twitches on his tongue, flushed from his attention as his tongue laps underneath it and his lips wrap around it.

"You miss me, baby?" You let out a sound of confusion at the question. "Yeah, you fuckin' do. You're so fucking hard."

Was he...was he talking to your cock?

"Bet you're dripping for me too, hm?" "Leon, what the fuck are you — "

The knife is now between your thighs, Michael's blood smearing itself there as he presses a kiss to your cock.

"If you're gonna cut me, wipe that pig's blood off." Your sneer is the last thing Michael sees as his eyes finally cloud over. In all honesty, you'd forgotten about him until now. The thought of his blood on you just disgusted you.

Leon wipes off his blood in his signature move; simply using your ripped undergarments in replacement of his gloves. Despite your annoyance, you won't deny how hot it was seeing him do it.

"Want me to cut you?" he hitches the blade to your inner thighs, the still-warm blade makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand. "Can I?"

"...Not there. Somewhere else."

Leon stands, the tip of the blade on your stomach. He towers over you, his broad shoulders making your cunt ache for more. "Here?" You shake your head so he flicks his gaze to inspect your torso.

Taking the edge of your shirt from your hands, he instead slips it between your teeth and you narrow your eyes at him. With your hands free, you lean back onto the windows, chest rising and falling in anticipation as Leon traces the knife all the way up to your chest.

He pauses at your collarbone but you shake your head once again and so he lowers it to your pec. You shake your head but Leon is gazing at it intently. He strokes tenderly over the surgery scar then pulls the skin of your chest taut and before you can protest he digs the tip of the blade in.

You bite down on your shirt, hissing as he drags down the tip. Crimson seeps through, beading up like delicate pearls before it gushes out in small streams. Leon's knee digs up your cunt and the spark of pleasure makes you lurch forward to grip Leon's shoulders. He pushes you back, the thump once again earning giggles from the group on the outside.

"You know I love you, (Y/N). I'm sick and tired of pretending you don't love me back."

Bewildered, you stare at him with furrowed brows.

He twists the blade and you inhale sharply as he slices it, lifting the knife at the end which cuts you shallowly at the end of his...symbol?

What the fuck was he cutting into you?

"Since you're too fucking stubborn to accept it, I'll make sure you know it. I don't know what rich boarding school trauma you have or if mommy and daddy never showed you how love is supposed to work — you're fucking mine."

He drags the blade down, three quicks slices follow and your eyes well with tears while your hips gyrate down on the delicious friction he has provided.

"You think I won't understand you? Think I'll hurt you? I'm the only one in this fucked up world that'll love you unconditionally, Trustfund. I love you, (Y/N)."

The next letter — you belatedly realize — hurts more as he carves a jagged O.

"I love you. I love you, I fucking love you, I'll love you till the day we die, and even in Hell, I'll find you and I'll love you."

N hurts less, Leon's gotten the hang of the angles and how quick and deep he should do it.

"I'll burn the whole fucking world down if it meant I could stay by your side."

Your chest is bleeding, rivers of red escaping and it stings in the cool air so Leon presses himself closer. The warm of his body on yours numb out the pain of the pressure he had applied. Blood is staining your torso, dripping and mixing with your slick and his jeans and you're so turned on you can't find the words.

Leon just kisses your cheek, licking up the tears that escaped and you moan as he kisses you.

Leon thinks his ears are fucking with him. He pulls back, not far enough to let your lips leave his but far enough that he can look at you. There's a dopey grin on your face, and he can feel the shape of your lips as you speak.

"Luh — Love you too, Leon...Love you s'fuckin' much."

It's a miracle no one has pulled the curtains back.

Maybe the noises were keeping them away. Everyone's a voyeur until the chance is actually presented in front of them, right? Hearing the both of you is enough. Seeing is too embarrassing.

You're completely wrong, by the way. Ashley had chased everyone out, locked the goddamn door of this red room with a giggle. Not knowing the true horrors that were hidden.

It was for the best.

Leon has you lifted in his arm, lapping up at the blood on your sternum as his cock bullies in and out of your cunt. The gymnast staring at him from over your shoulder makes him grin and he pulls you firmly down onto his cock, groaning as you squeal.

"Fuh — Fuck! Fuck! Leon!"

You're gripping onto whatever leverage you can find purchase off without ripping off the pictures. But he's balls deep and you keen, hands finding itself tangling with the curtain rod. Leon is so rough, so intent on destroying your cunt as his hot breath protects his name from the air, every jostle and thrust makes you clench around his cock like a vice.

"Fuck, this boypussy's made just for me, huh? Sucks me in every time I pull out, greedy little cunt." His words are making your vision blur with tears, he latches onto your nipple and your arm jerks.

The curtain rod falls with a crash and Leon immediately pulls you in. He shield your naked body with his own, completely ignoring the dead body inches away. He expects horrified screams. The both of you are greeted with silence instead.

The room is empty.

More space to fuck you in, he thinks as he smirks.

Limply, you lay out like a starfish on the couch. Cunt gaping and slick with your juices and blood and his spit. His dick is streaked with blood and your cum coating it, he spits a glob off spit onto your dick and you whine, reaching for a throw pillow to hold onto as he uses his thumb to jerk it.

"Fuck, you look so fucking handsome right now."

"How...how have you not cummed yet...?" You pant out, hips lifting and twisting in an attempt to escape Leon's thumb. He presses your hips down with his other hand and you groan, eyes rolling back.

"Needa' make up for lost time," he says as he licks his lips. "Missed this hole so badly. Shit, look at the way he's winking at me."

"Stop talkin' to my cunt!" He grunts as you kick his shoulder, turning to bite into your calf with a gleeful chuckle.

"Fuck, I wanna make a movie with you." Your pretty little prince-y parts are more forthcoming than you are. Your cock jumps and he sees the way you squeeze down.

"Say less, baby." You try to kick him again but he leans back faster than you. He meanders towards his discarded pants, pulling out his phone. You try to catch your breath, one arm tossed over your eyes as your legs go lax, thighs twitching as you try to calm your heart rate.

The light from his phone feels warm, but maybe that's just you being sensitive. He makes sure it takes in all the details of his carved name, then pans down to your sopping hole and a throaty moan escapes you as his fingers slip inside with ease.

"Jesus, I can feel your heartbeat." The casual way he says it makes you whine, he pumps his three fingers in and out before curling it up, and your back arches. The cutest "ah!" coming from you.

He hopes the phone picks it up. He admires the way you as he lines up his cock to your cunt. Slides it through your lips, hissing in pleasure as he bumps his cock with yours, and you squirm, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Leon, cum in me. Please, fucking Christ, just cum in me already."

His cock is so thick. The stretch of it never fails to make your mouth open in a silent scream, choked-out moans of his name or God escaping. When his balls smack against you, you see white behind your eyelids, and Leon chuckles as he feels your walls spasm around him.

He pulls back. The streaks of liquid on his cock just make him all the more eager. Leon lets the camera take in your body as it takes him. Plowing into you with abandon, bracing himself on his fist as his hips rattle yours.

"Fuck, yes. Tighten up around me, that's it, baby. Yeah, that's it."

He angles the phone away, wanting to see your face without it blocking him. It falls onto the floor and Leon steals your breath away as he kisses yo. His mouth tastes like blood and beer and you.

His brows pinched as his back rippled with pleasure. "I'm close," he warns and you whimper, locking your ankles behind him just as you wrap your arms behind him.

"C'mon, baby. Fill me up, yeah —Nghah! Yeah! There, right there! Fill me up, Leon, please — Ah!"

Pressing his forehead with yours, he claims your lips once again and his thrusts get sloppy, uncoordinated. He comes with a moan of your name, sheathed in as deep as he could get and the warmth that fills you makes your cunt clench around him tightly, milking him as your orgasm washes over you for one last time that night.

"Fuck, (Y/N)..." Leon presses gentle kisses to your cheek, stroking your neck as he pants.

"I...I promised Ashley I was gonna jog with her tomorrow," you mumble out, whining as Leon's hips stutter into you. He chuckles, trailing kisses down your neck.

"I'll take responsibility." "You better."

"Poor Michael," Ashley's brows slope as she watches the TV replay the news.

You're honestly impressed Leon managed to sneak out with the goddamn body, he wrapped it up in the curtain if you recalled, and placed it on his backseat. Leon didn't wanna leave you in the car but you were passed out, sleeping peacefully. So he spent a good hour or two just tossing the guy's body in the school's pool.

When you came to, you were at home with him wiping you down and your chest wrapped up.

It's been a week since the two of you were official, Michael's case seemed more and more hopeless — Leon had done a good job erasing traces of evidence. Like a proper killer.

His fingers squeeze your calves, and you groan softly, curling your toes as he massages it. Ashley turns back to peek at the both of you. You with your legs splayed over Leon's lap and him casually working out the kinks in them, all while you were wrapped with a blanket around your shoulders.

"You two aren't the slightest bit scared? He was at the party y'know. Michael and that Ghostface dude," she shudders and looks ahead at the screen. "Fuck, what if I made out with him!?"

Leon snorts, shaking his head. "I'm sure you didn't, Ash." You nod in agreement, adjusting the pillows under you, ignoring the sting of the wound under the bandages.

"Bet if you did, you'd know. He'd be so fucked up you'd probably taste blood in his mouth or somethin' freaky like that." Leon glances your way, and you give him a grin.

Ashley pouts, sinking back. You reach a hand out to play with her golden locks. It makes her shoulders droop and she leans back to you.

"You didn't even know the guy, Ashley. Ya' know what they say about killers, right? They only kill the people they know, you know any killers?"

She thinks about it.

"...You scream at the sight of a cockroach and Leon can barely parallel park without getting teary-eyed..."

"Hey," Leon's ears turn red. "That was one time and everyone was staring, okay?"

Ashley laughs, shaking her head as she switches the channels. Yeah, you were right! She didn't know any killers. She was safe hiding out here in your apartment with Leon until the police wrapped up their investigations.

As long as she had the both of you, she'd be safe. Which she wasn't wrong about — Ashley meant too much to you to be hurt. Her mother didn't have to worry about the Ghostface killers attacking her, the two of them were right behind her. Braiding her hair, asking if she wants popcorn for their movie night.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | January 15th-21st 2024

My ao3 history is still fucked. Gonna have to figure out if there's something I can do about it :/

Complete

hot cocoa by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Established Buddie | 3K | Teen): Buck is freaking out about proposing. He gets an assist from Athena, Bobby, and. Well. Eddie himself.

A Message To You by Mad_Lori/ @madlori (Media fic, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): Two firefighters both write to an advice column on the same day, with the same problem - they're each in love with their best friend. You won't believe what happens next!

🔥 Life Cycles of the Southern Coastal Husbro series by Mad_Lori/ @madlori (Post-Season 5, Queer Platonic Relationship to Lovers | 5 works | 92K)

🔥 Courtship Behaviors of the Southern Coastal Husbro (QPR, Getting Together | 49K | Explicit): “I want you in my family, I want us to be a family. Officially. A family can be a guy, his son, and his best friend, right?” Buck’s lower lip was trembling. “You’re really asking me to be your…what, now?” “Frank called it ‘platonic life partners.’” Observational Notes on the Southern Coastal Husbro (Fluff | 10K | Mature): A day in the life of two engaged firefighter husbros and their smartass son. Migratory Patterns of the Southern Coastal Husbro (Coming Out | 13K | Explicit): Buck and Eddie visit El Paso to tell the Diaz parents that they're engaged. Also, they go viral (again), eat King Ranch Casserole, pontificate on queer identities, get a visit from the Fire Chief, and the Hot Firefighter Calendar makes a reappearance. Ancestral Lineage of the Southern Coastal Husbro (Parental Reconciliations | 13K | Explicit): The Buckleys surprise Eddie at home when Buck's not there, hoping to work around Buck's no-contact edict and attempt a reconciliation. Later, Eddie surprises Buck with the news that hey, he has grandparents on his mom's side, too. Surprise number two: they suck. Eddie and Buck remain disgustingly in love with each other. Sexual Alignments of the Southern Coastal Husbro (5K | Teen): Eddie goes out for drinks with the dispatch center folks, gets hit on at the bar, and has personal epiphanies about his sexual orientation.

Kilty Pleasures by JamesPearce911/ @diazsdimples (PWP, Established Buddie | 8K | Explicit): Or, Buck and Eddie discover they have kilt kinks.

melt your headaches (call it home) by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed | 2K | Teen): hypothetically, Buck types. if someone hit their head in the morning, they probably shouldn’t go to sleep alone, huh The phone vibrates in his hand before he can even put it down, Eddie’s face flashing on the screen. Buck sighs and picks it up. “What did you do?” Eddie asks immediately. “Hypothetically, the Scrub Daddy tried to kill me.”

Fractals from the Lightning Bolt by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (One Shots Collection | 41/54 | 78K | Not Rated): A collection of oneshots, some originally posted on tumblr. Each chapter is individually rated.

44. We Gotta Create Our Interludes: Rated E - some soft established relationship fluff and smut 45. My Application to Hell: Rated E - shameless smut of the "they could never get away with this in real life" variety.

what my heart just yearns to say (in ways that can't be said) by mimibegins/ @itiveseenthisfilmbefore (Post S06E15: Death and Taxes | 5K | General): “I didn’t know that,” Eddie replied, eyebrows furrowed. And then he added so quietly that Buck almost missed it: “I mean, how would I? As I don’t see you.” And Buck was struck through the core and taken back in time. From one moment to the next, he was back at the graveyard, looking at Eddie and saying “I feel like she sees me” and then he recalled the broken look behind Eddie’s eyes and oh. So that’s what was wrong.

Twice Struck by Tizniz / @tizniz (Post-Lightning | 3K | General): Buck finds out he wasn't the only one struck by lightning that night.

dusk until the dawn (you're where i wanna go) by mimibegins/ @itiveseenthisfilmbefore (Post S6E14: Performance Anxiety, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): “So, would you say that you’re worried about dating because you never really dated,“ Buck said as he shifted his weight, draping himself over the couch in a way that was almost obscene for a public space. “Is that a question, or– ?” Eddie wondered, slightly amused as he looked up at Buck, who looked so pensive, if not a bit stunned as he was seemingly still trying to wrap his head around the disastrous dating experiences of Eddie Diaz. “No, it’s– yeah, okay, I guess it’s a question but– have you?” Buck asked, almost bashful, with a faint blush sitting high on his cheeks as he met Eddie’s eyes. God, Eddie thought as he felt how the blood rushed into his cheeks as well. These feelings are definitely not platonic.

he's a big boy by oklahoma/ @malewifediaz (Married Buddie, PWP | 5K | Explicit): Eddie has a thing for Buck's big dick.

one is one too many, one more is never enough by 42hrb / @exhuastedpigeon (Drunk Confession | 2K | Teen): They say hangovers get worse as you get older. Buck never believed that until his first hangover in his thirties hit him like a fucking freight train. He had vowed to never get that drunk again. And he’d kept that promise to himself for over a year. That all changed at Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. He’d like it noted that it wasn’t his fault that he got so drunk. He hadn’t had any of the mimosas that were flowing while Maddie and her bridal party got ready because he didn’t want to risk anything going wrong when he walked Maddie down the aisle. In fact, he hadn’t had a drink until after he gave his speech. 

🔥 Don't Push Me So Far Away I Can't Reach You by giselleslash (Friends With Benefits | 12K | Mature): or the one where Buck thinks he and Eddie are just friends with benefits so he pushes Eddie to date other people because he’s an idiot

if you keep reachin' out (then I'll keep comin' back) by 42hrb / @exhuastedpigeon (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): It probably wasn’t the best idea to flirt with Buck before a rescue but Eddie couldn’t help himself. He’d been struggling with keeping his feelings for Buck locked down for months now, maybe even longer if he was honest with himself. 

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard? by rarakiplin (gmontys)/ @hoediaz (Post-Shooting | 9K | Teen): or, in which eddie's will reveal is a love confession, and buck takes a second to catch up

🔥 maybe love won't let you down by sibylsleaves (Season 5B, Getting Together | 15K | Mature): Buck tells Eddie he’s in love with him. Eddie pines. or, five times eddie watches buck leave, and the one time he goes after him

Rope 'n Ride by rosebuddiekin/ @giddyupbuck (PWP | 2K | Explicit): Or: Eddie rides Buck wearing the cowboy hat.

WIP

search history by forgottenwords (Getting Together | 8/10 | 11K | Explicit): Eddie opened the Safari app to find a specific recipe Buck was looking for, but something was already typed in the search box. Beefy blonde twink gets railed by— Buck's voice calls out from the kitchen “Did you find it yet?” and Eddie hastily closes the tab, opening another with a surprising speed from someone considered technologically illiterate. As close as they were, he’d never had a thought about the type of ‘adult entertainment’ Buck was partial to. Now, it was all he could think about.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 107/? | 296K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 and if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Canon Divergent Season 6, Friends with Benefits | 5/18 | 23K | Explicit): or, an alternate look at season 6 where buck and eddie have been casually sleeping together since before the beginning of the season. somehow, this changes both everything and nothing at all.

Winter Prayer by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Road Trip, Buck&Bobby&May | 1/3 | 5K | General): When a work conflict prevents Athena from accompanying Bobby to Minnesota for the ten year anniversary of his family dying, Buck and May offer to go instead. Over the course of the trip, they all learn more about each other, and Bobby faces his grief.

(when i die) i'll die loving you by lecornergirl / @clusterbuck (The Good Place Fusion | 1/? | 2K | Teen): OR: buck and eddie are in the afterlife, and they're soulmates. but it's not quite that simple.

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 21/? | 14K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

22. 82. Whispering "I love you" in-between kisses  23. 1. Whispering "kiss me" to your lover  24. 18. Grabbing your lover by the collar 

[bunnysnuff]

Rocky horror show.

Pairing: nick nelson x f!reader.

Trigger warnings: none.

Request.

Nick sits cross-legged on the floor, eyeing the assortment of makeup spread out in front of him like it’s a mystery. "So, remind me again why I'm the one getting dolled up?"

You grin, holding up a makeup sponge. "Because, darling, my skin needs a break for a few days. It’s not as easy as it looks, putting this stuff on every night for a show."

He raises an eyebrow but can't suppress a laugh. "Okay, but why can't you just... not wear makeup for a couple of days?"

"Sweetie," you say, tilting his chin up with a playful flick of your wrist, "You can’t have a show without the show." You giggle as he rolls his eyes.

Sitting down behind him, you start dabbing primer across his face. The sensation feels foreign to him, but he's doing his best to stay still. You talk about your latest performance—how you've been working at this wild, queer performance club that’s part drag, part cabaret, with over-the-top costumes and a punk rock edge. He listens, genuinely fascinated, though he still looks like a fish out of water.

As you move to apply the foundation, he fidgets. “I don’t get how you do this every night,” he says, his voice muffled as you carefully pat the product across his cheeks.

“Practice. That’s why you’re here, babe. Besides, you’re gonna look so pretty.”

Nick snorts, but there’s a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Pretty, huh? You sure you don’t just want to humiliate me?”

“I would never,” you say with faux seriousness, picking up the eyeliner. "Now, stay very, very still. This part's crucial."

You step back, admiring your handiwork. Nick stares up at you, blinking slowly as he tries to get used to the heavy liner. He catches his reflection in a nearby mirror and breaks into laughter.

“Wow. I look like I’m ready for the stage.”

“Exactly!” you say, clapping your hands together. “Now, you’re getting it. Maybe you’ll be my understudy next time.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Nick grins, though there’s a spark in his eye that tells you he’s having more fun than he’ll admit.

[siriuslylu]

constellation - wolfstar microfic - word count: 2055

Remus entered the room looking down, deep in thought.

“Moony! What’s with the face?” asked James, he got to the room a little bit before him and was heading to his bed.

Remus looked at him, really looked, James, one of his best friends, gigantic heart, patient like no one else, he was always on the front line for his friends, always a kind word, a soft look, a good ear. Figured if he could talk to anyone, it’d be him, and found out he was actually itching to get it out of his system.

So, he sighed and walked his way.

“Prongs, actually, can I talk to you for a minute? Where you going somewhere?”

“Oh, sure Moons! I was looking for my gloves before heading to the Quidditch field, but it’s only me practicing so I got time, what’s up?”

He took a moment, he was actually gonna do it, it seemed easier in his head, but right now, he felt suddenly nervous. James encouraged him to sit on the bed with him.

“Well? What’s on your mind?”

“Prongs, I-“, he licked his lips.

His friend frowned, “Remus, should I worr-“

“IlikeSirius”

A moment of silence.

“What?”

He took a deep breath again, closing his eyes and sighed heavily while opening them

“I… I like Sirius”

“O…kay? Me too?”

“No, Prongs… I… like him. As in… I’m a little bit in… love with him”

“You… WHAT?!”

He panicked, has it been a mistake? Should he backtrack and say it was a joke?

Seeing Remus’ face, James hurried to clarify

“Wait, no, I, sorry Moons, I didn’t mean to be rude, it just… took me by surprise I guess, umm, wanna tell me a bit more?”

Okay, maybe it wasn’t all lost, he could do it.

“I don’t really know when… I just…” he couldn’t find the words, hasn’t thought this far through honestly, and what exactly did he feel for his friend? How could he explain? “I really don’t know when it changed, one day he was just my friend, the next day I realised I was somehow upset? whenever I saw him with girls or whatever, figured it was because I didn’t want him to spend less time with us, and then, suddenly one day, I saw hip applying lip balm and thought ‘huh, how would it feel to kiss the strawberry off his lips?’ And stilled, because you just don’t think things like that about your friends; after that it all went down, I saw him everywhere all the time, and it… it wouldn’t stop, every normal thing he did was suddenly huge, I couldn’t stop staring at him, watching his hands gesticulate when he talked, his cheeky smile when he thought of a prank, the length of his bloody eyelashes, it was so frustrating, I started to blush whenever I heard him laugh, I think I’m going insane” he looked up to find his friend gaping at him with wide eyes “oh, sorry, I guess it was too much?”

James got out of his trance and looked at him softly smiling that warm James Potter smile “no Moons, not too much, just surprised you… felt that way, I can see you really need to get it out”

“I feel like vomiting, both literally and figuratively, are you… weirded out?”

He saw his friend think for a moment before shaking his head

“No, not really” he frowned a bit and relaxed “it actually makes sense, you two are very close, I know how people usually feel about umm queerness, but you’re my friend Moony” he grabbed his hand and squeezed it “you’re my best friend, how could I be weirded out by you? I know you, it’s not typical, yeah, but who am I to tell someone who should or shouldn’t fancy or love?”

Remus sighed again, he felt a huge backpack off his shoulders “thanks Prongs, you’re an amazing friend, you knew that?”

He saw him shrug confidently “so I’ve been told” and looked at him again in that soft way he had reserved for his friends “Moony, are you going to tell him?”

And there it was, his biggest fear, she shook his head sadly

“No, I don’t think so, how would you feel if suddenly your guy best friend confessed?”

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t want him suffering in silence, I mean, I’d prefer to know I guess”

“Is not that easy, I don’t wanna ruin our friendship”

“You don’t think he can feel the same way?”

He snorted, yeah sure, as if Sirius Black could like him

“No way, first of all, have you seen how many girlfriends he’s had? And second of all, have you seen me?”

That put a deep defensive frown in his friend’s face

“What do you mean have I seen you? What’s wrong with you?”

“How much time do you have” he said rolling his eyes

“Moony, you’re amazing, and handsome, even I can admit that, don’t think so low of you”

“Well, still, I don’t think he likes blokes so…”

“Have you asked him?”

“Of course not”

“Then?”

He sighed “it’s… complicates Prongs, I’d rather keep his friendship intact, I really don’t know how could he react or what he could think of me”

“Give him more credit, he wouldn’t push you off”

“It’s easy to say when the feelings are not towards you”

A moment of silence, then James broke it looking at him

“Okay Moons, tell me then”

“What?”

“Whatever you want to, everything, take it off your chest, tell me everything you feel about him, what would you tell him if you could”

“That might really freak you out”

“It won’t, I promise, you need to let it out”

A moment

“Okay, I-“ he felt suddenly a bit shy, but he stared at his hands, it’d be just like talking to his journal, he thought, James was giving him the space he needed and maybe it’d help him, maybe if he wasn’t full of it he could actually look at Sirius and not feel like a ticking bomb. “You know summer evenings? When you’re just laying on the grass watching the water in the lake as still as it can get, feeling the warm breeze caress your hair, the last rays of sunshine in your face? Right in that golden hour when everything’s at peace, when the world stops for a minute and you feel the happiest you’ve ever been and will ever be, that nothing can go wrong and life is wonderful?”

“Yeah”

“That’s how I feel when I look at him, he feels like a summer evening every time I see him smile, I feel like I could do everything in life if say or do something that makes him laugh, like I’d trade everything I own for him to throw his head back and explode in laughter without other care in the world, he feels… safe, like home, like I could sleep in the curves of his curls. Watching his eyes go from blue to gray in cold days is like getting to know the best kept secret, I could trace by memory every mole, I could chart all his freckles and create the most beautiful constellations, I could listen to him talk about anything and everything like he’s my favourite record, I- as you can see I can become the sappiest idiot, I swear, the girls wouldn’t rival me” he chuckled.

A minute and he looked up to find James looking at him with the saddest smile.

“Moons…” he said in a whisper “that’s… you’re… that was beautiful. Are you absolutely sure he wouldn’t feel the same way?”

He opened his mouth to refute again, when the wardrobe door beat him, opening slowly. Everything stilled, the world paused, he was pretty damn sure even time stopped, because there, inside, was Sirius Black himself, looking fragile, face unreadable full of feelings, Remus thought he was going to die right then and there, he could barely speak

“Si-Sirius, I-“

A hand on halt and he closed his mouth instantly, next to him James held his breath

“Padfoot? What were you doing there?”

“Did you… mean all that?” Said ignoring James and holding Remus’ gaze

“I-“

“Did you?” Said hurriedly

There was no point in lying now, cards where on the table apparently, and if he was lucky, at least he might even instead of losing

“I- Yes Sirius I- I meant all of it” said closing his eyes “but you don’t- please I can’t-“ he opened them up again and grew wide when he saw tears in the corner of his friends eyes “Siriu-“

“I would…”

Silence

“I would feel the same way… just so you know”

“You… what?”

A chuckle

“I didn’t think you could feel the same way I did”

“You…?!”

“Padfoot you like Moony back?” Asked James excitedly, both friends looked at him then and he felt out of place “oh I umm, sorry, got carried away, of course you can talk about it without me here, I’ll just, uh, go” he went for the door when he heard Sirius calling

“Prongs”, as he turned, a pair of gloves flew to him, caught them just in time, “I was actually hiding to scare you the moment you came looking for them, I was about to jump when moony came in.

“Oh” he snorted, “well, thanks, I’ll be on the field if you guys need me, yeah?”

“Sure pal”

James left the room and suddenly, the air thickened

“Remus, look at me?”

He did, and oh he was doomed, those eyes held the entire universe in them

“Moony, my Moony” Sirius approached carefully and sit on the spot James left “how… how long?”

Remus took a breath “I really don’t know… Way too bloody much though” he chuckled “you… you really…?”

“Yes”, no hesitation

“How? When? How? I mean…”

Sirius shrugged, “I don’t know, I guess since the beginning but I didn’t notice until we grew up a bit more, I always found you handsome but… liking you? A while ago, I wanted to be with you all the time, and you’re the first one I wanna show a new song, or talk about my day, I think of you every time there’s chocolate cauldron and save one up in case you get late for lunch, it’s happened since forever. I just didn’t think you….”

“Yes”, his turn to be firm about it

A minute

“Could you really map a constellation from my freckles?”, Sirius joked, because of course he could

“I can”

“Show me”

“Well”, he started drawing lines in his face, slowly, softly, actually enjoying the fact that he could touch him this intimately “it starts with this one here, under your eye, right to this one on the top of your nose, up to the bigger one on your cheekbone, and back to the centre of your lower lip”

He stopped there for a second, and when he was about to move away, Sirius kissed his finger softly, Remus’ breath hitched as he looked at him, then Sirius grabbed his hand, opening it fully and kissing it

“Moony”

And that was it, he wasn’t about to wait any longer, Remus cradled his face, got closer but stopped an inch away, looking into Sirius eyes for something that’d stop him, he couldn’t find anything, just saw him closing his eyes and a second later the distance there was left.

Kissing Sirius Black felt like nothing he’s ever experienced before, his lips were soft and moved carefully around his, felt him open his mouth, and the moment he tasted his tongue knew there was no going back, he’d never feel this again with anyone, it was as if a supernova exploded in his chest, he felt like crying, and laughing, and breathing, and dying and living all at the same time, actually, he was probably doing all of it.

They separated a little bit, Sirius moved forward again and pecked him, and pecked him, and pecked him again, as if making sure it was real, Remus giggled and pecked him back, just because he could, and when their eyes met, they smiled

“If I’m your summer evenings, to me, you’re the rest of the days and nights”

And oh, he loved summer

———

English is not my first language, so please forgive grammar mistakes, also idk if 2000 words count as “microfic” lol but thanks for reading 🌻

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

you're gonna go far

eddie & wayne picture fic based on this post

(long post ahead, but bear with me)

4/10/1984 Eddie,  I’m starting this letter after you came home with the letter from the school saying you’re not graduating this year.  I could tell you didn’t believe me when I told you it’ll be alright, that it’ll all work out in the end. That it did for me when I had the same talk with my pa.. but you eventually stepped back from the edge, I think, you’re in your room now. There was something else there too, which is really why I'm writing this now. You have the same look in your eye that I saw in my own reflection long before I got drafted, the look I saw in your dad’s when Lizzie told us she was pregnant.  You’re already planning your escape.  And I won’t hold it against you when you do kick rocks, I just pray you give me a little warning so I can say goodbye. And I ain’t a praying man. I’m tucking away some cash with this for when you go. Don’t have much, but I have you. And I wanna make sure you have the best start you possibly can.

10/11/1984 It’s been rough for you again. Working at Merrill’s has been good for you. Getting fresh air, sunshine, shit, even your gangly noodles you call arms are looking less noodley. But they just sent you home early today.. something wrong with the crop and they won’t need the extra hands this season. That, starting school again, even Ronnie leaving last week.. I know you two kids were close. You ain’t even getting all excited for halloween! Adding some more cash for you, little more than I could last time.  Just hang in there kiddo. 

6/5/1985 I think you think you don’t know, and I’m willing to let you pretend for a little while longer, but shit, Eddie, you think I wouldn’t know when graduation was supposed to be just because you weren’t the one to tell me? You know I won’t be mad at you. If you don’t say anything for another week, I will. 6/7/1985 - There it is.

7/22/1985 I was able to talk you down again that night, and you ‘re getting back to your old self again. I still can’t believe you had your whole room all packed up like that. I’ll give ya that speech all over again as many times as you need, but I’ll write it down here for you: You’re gonna go far, Eddie. You’re gonna tear outta here next year and you’re gonna knock ‘em all dead. You are so talented, you are much more than any of us Munsons have ever been or will ever be, and you’re gonna be the biggest star in the world. You mark my words. And I know you’re gonna fight leavin’ when the time comes, thinking you need to take care of me or some crap but I promise you: The birds’ll still sing, the trailer will still creak, the leaves will die and fall like they do every year, but I’ll be here whenever you need to come back. I’ll be here as long as you need. If that’s forever, so be it.

8/15/1985 I’m taking you up north this weekend. Just to get away, y’know? Before your LAST senior year starts. Might be cutting it a little close on funds, happens when you’re trying to survive, but we’re overdue for a change of scenery. We ain’t living just to die. Only a little going in this time, but I’ll be damned if I don’t add something along with a new note.

10/5/1986 Been a while since I added to this, huh? Well, it’s finally happening. You are leaving tomorrow and boy did you make a stink before you did. Went on a whole tirade about needing to get out of this damn town, about not being able to get anywhere when everyone except me is against you. I wanted to point out that you’ve got your band guys and that Harrington boy in your corner too, but I didn't think you’d like me interrupting your whole big speech about who it is you love and being queer and all that with a “Yeah. I know. You and Steve make moon-eyes at each other all the damn time.” I’ll make sure to pass on your info to him when I get it. He doesn’t seem like one to hold a grudge (or at least not hold it long), so I'm sure he’ll be the first in line to greet you the next time you find yourself in our neck of the woods. Those kids’ll miss you too y’know. They’ll be college age before you know it. I’m gonna pack up this envelope and stash it in your stuff somewhere I know you’ll find it again. so you can find it when you need it. Can’t believe I managed to save you close to a grand. Not enough by a long shot, but it’ll help ya for a while. Been saving for a years now, y’know..  Now Eddie. I told you all this last year, and just now before you slunk off to bed, but here it is again, just in case you need to hear it: - I’m proud of you. - I love you more than you’ll know. - You love whoever it is you want to love (as long as i’m on that list somewhere) - I’m glad you’re getting out of here when you can. And I’ll continue to be glad that you did even when things get hard. When I’m doing all the chores around here myself, when I go visit Al in county even though I know all we’re gonna do is fight… I’ll be so grateful you’re making your own way in the world far from here. I’m not angry at you, Teddy. But you’ll be the greatest thing I’ve lost. I’ll always be here if you need me. Wayne

some notes!

-i hc wayne as a military man ofc and bc of that, my own sloppy, all caps, post military handwriting is perfect for him!

-i like to think eddie thinks he's slick and wayne didn't know he liked boys until he was about to leave but wayne knows. of course he knows. al told him why he kicked eddie out, wayne just didn't think it was his place to bring it up before eddie did.

-didn't think too much farther after this, but let's just say that steddie happens when eddie comes back to hawkins in a couple years when the shitheads graduate.

[unfinishedslurs]

jock on jock violence (past steve/tommy)

“Just leave people alone, Tommy,” Harrington says lowly. Dangerously. Harrington’s always been dangerous, in the way that straight, entitled jocks have always been dangerous to Eddie, but sometimes Eddie thinks he dropped the crown to pick up a sword. There’s something sharper about him now, something that wasn’t there before Halloween. Different from the fake smiles and shifty eyes after the Byers kid went missing. Not that Eddie’s been looking. 

“Leave them alone?” Hagan demands. “Like how you left me alone?” And wow, is he delusional? Did he just completely forget about his girlfriend, Hargrove, and the entire fucking basketball team?

“Not everything is about you! Seriously, man? You’re just gonna twist what I’m saying like that?” Harrington snaps, and oh, Eddie doesn’t want to be here for this. If the former king and his old lackey duke it out, he does not want to get caught in the crossfire. “Jesus, grow up. Sorry I got sick of being a total dick.”

“Oh, yeah, now you’re just sucking Byers’s—“

“You want to go there? Do you really wanna go there, Tommy?”

Shit, Eddie should not be here for this. 

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Hagan says, suddenly panicked. 

“I thought you liked my mouth.”

Eddie has to practically stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from sputtering. 

“What the fuck, man,” Hagan hisses. Eddie knows he’s looking around, even though no one’s in the bathroom except them and Eddie. And Eddie’s never going to breathe a fucking word of this to anyone, on account of not wanting his face rearranged ten times over. “What, are you some kind of fag now? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Harrington almost sounds bored when he replies. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

“I told you to watch your mouth.”

“You gonna shut me up?”

“What has gotten into you?” Hagan finally asks the million dollar question. Harrington’s acting like he’s got a fucking death wish. “One minute we’re calling out Byers for being a creep, and the next you’re dumping me like it’s nothing. And now you’re suddenly best buds? Even after he stole your girlfriend twice? You know how pathetic that is, right? What, do you share her or something? The slut putting out—“

There’s a rustle of clothes, and then a thud, like something—someone getting slammed into a wall. 

“Don’t talk about Nancy like that,” Harrington growls. “This isn’t about her.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, man, it’s about you being a total asshole, and I’m telling you to leave people the fuck alone.”

“Or what?” Hagan almost sounds amused, over obvious nerves. He’s not even trying to escape the hold he’s in. “I’m stronger than you, and we both know it. You’ve still got a concussion, don’t you? Hargrove told me he beat your face in.”

“Hargrove this, Hargrove that. You sound like you’ve got a crush or something. You suck him like you sucked me?”

Jesus fucking Christ. 

“You can’t win this fight, Steve.”

“I don’t need to. Mutually assured destruction, asshole. You stop hurting people, and I won’t tell the entire town about us.”

Oh shit. Oh shit. Harrington sounds serious. It almost makes him sick to his stomach, even as a hysterical laugh tries to bubble out. Who woulda guessed that the former king of Hawkins High had enough guts to paint himself as a queer to their conservative, stick in the mud town?

That is, if Hagan doesn’t fucking kill him first. 

“You wouldn’t.” Hagan sounds panicked now, and for good fucking reason. He’s been on the “right” end of what happens to their kind of freaks for years. How quickly would the vultures turn on him? They descended on Harrington pretty damn quick. 

“Wanna bet?”

“You do that, you lose everything. Peace, daddy’s money, your precious sports scholarships…”

“I’m not going to college,” Harrington says. “Look in my eyes, Hagan. Do I look like I’m bluffing? I’ve got nothing to lose.”

Eddie has to keep in a scoff at that. If there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that there’s always something to lose with shit like this. Namely your life. 

This is fucked. This is so fucked. Eddie wants out of this stall, Jesus H. Christ. He’d take Mrs. Smith’s class anyday over knowing one wrong move will end with two jocks beating his fucking face in for hearing something he wasn’t supposed to hear. Or potentially having to jump in to try and save Harrington’s stupid fucking mug. 

There’s a long pause that does absolutely nothing for Eddie’s nerves, before Hagan finally spits out, “Fine.”

“What was that?”

“Fine.”

“Good man,” Harrington says, as if they’re discussing some kind of business deal and not outing themselves in front of God and Mrs. Jenkins and everyone. “Now get the fuck outta here, Tommy.”

Rustling, quick footsteps, and then the door opens and shuts without a word. 

Silence.

Eddie sighs in relief. 

“Hello?” Harrington asks, voice on edge. 

Shit. 

His stall door swings open, and there he is, in all his fallen kingly glory. Bruise over one eye, scowl on his face, and dangerous set to his shoulders that Eddie knows all too well. 

“Uhh, hi?” Eddie squeaks. He’s still sitting like fucking Gollum, feet on the toilet, unlit cigarette in hand. He drops it, and neither of them look away from each other as it rolls behind the toilet bowl. 

Excellent first impression, really. 

“What the fuck, man?” Harrington asks. “Were you just listening to that?”

“Look,” Eddie says quickly. “In my defense, I was here first. Also, if he saw me, Hagan was definitely going to beat me up. Except, uh, you’re definitely going to kick my ass anyway for hearing that, so I probably should just cut my losses and accept death at this point.”

Harrington doesn’t seem to know what to say to this, mouth opening and closing slowly. 

“Also, for the record?” Eddie says. “I won’t say anything. I know you have, like, zero reason to trust me, but I’m really good at secrets, dude, like you wouldn’t believe. I haven’t even told Jeff that Gareth—anyways, secrets? What secrets? I didn’t hear anything. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

He gets a scathing look in return. “If you tell anyone—“

“Wait, wait, wait! You said something about mutually assured destruction, right? I get it. I get it, Harrington, fuck, you know I do. Who would believe me if I blabbed, anyway? Who are they gonna believe, the King or the Freak?”

Harrington sighs, but he must see the truth in what Eddie said because he moves away from the stall. Takes a wad of paper towels and starts running them under the sink. 

It emboldens Eddie enough to follow him. “I mean, really, they’d probably just call it wishful thinking or something. Plus, I’m pretty sure most of the school would rather die than talk to me, so, like, you’re safe, man. I’ve already blacked it out in my memory, it’s gone.”

It seems like Harrington has tuned him out, pressing the wet paper towels to his forehead and eye. That’s good, because Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore. 

“Also, for the record? That was badass. I don’t think I’d have the guts to do that, even if the entire town kind of knows about me anyway. Which, wow, you were really good at hiding it. Hagan I kind of suspected, given the giant fucking boner he had for you, but you—“

“Do you ever shut up?”

Eddie’s mouth shuts with a click. Harrington sighs again and pinches his nose, looking almost like a mother trying to herd her seven rambunctious children into the minivan. His hands are shaking.  

“You okay, man?” Eddie finally asks quietly. 

Harrington doesn’t say anything, just presses the paper towels over both eyes, like he’s trying to stave something off. Oh, shit, is he…

“Are you…crying?”

“What? No,” Harrington says, obviously lying. “It’s the light, I get headaches. Concussion.”

“Right.”

“Look, can we just forget this ever happened?”

“Already forgotten,” he promises. “But, uh, for the record? That was really brave of you, man.”

“I wouldn’t have gone through with it.”

“That actually kind of surprises me, because I could not tell from your voice. You sounded like you were ready to march up to The Post then and there and spill all Hagan’s dirty little secrets. All ‘I’ve got nothing to lose,’ and shit.” He pitches his voice lower, in a mimic of some action movie hero or something. 

Harrington finally laughs, and something in Eddie thrills at it. “I pulled that outta my ass,” he admits. “I knew he would believe it, ‘cause to him I already did lose everything. My friends, my girlfriend, my…”  he waves his hand around, “my status, or whatever. And a few screws, probably.”

“Well I can attest to the screws, because I think you might be actually insane. You cornered him in an empty bathroom without checking to see if it was actually empty and threatened to out him to the entire town? I thought I was going to have to save your life, Jesus shit. Don’t fucking do that, do you have a death wish or something?”

“I did check,” Harrington snaps. “I looked under the stalls, and none of the doors were locked. Who the hell sits on a toilet like that anyway? You looked like one of those ugly stone fuckers, the ones they put on buildings and shit.”

Eddie bursts out laughing, too incredulous to be offended. “You mean gargoyles?”

“Whatever. Besides, Hagan won’t kill me. He’s too much of a coward.”

“I hate to break it to you, Harrington, but cowards are dangerous too.”

“Not Tommy’s kind of coward” Harrington says. “Not to me.” He wonders about the surety in his voice. Does he think Hagan still has feelings for him? Ex-boyfriends can be the worst kind of assholes. Hell hath no fury like a man scorned. Harrington gives him a look, like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. “He’s a bully and an asshole, but he doesn’t have the guts,” he insists. “He’s no Hargrove.”

Eddie sneers. “Hargrove. The guy’s a fucking psycho.”

“Tell me about it,” Harrington says dryly. He finally looks at Eddie, eyes him up and down. Eddie could take him, honestly, he’s scrappy and Hagan wasn’t lying when he said everyone knows Harrington can’t win a fight. Pair that with the concussion he’s sporting, and it’d probably take a love tap to take him down. But he doesn’t want to. 

“You’re probably better off without Hagan anyway,” he offers helpfully. It doesn’t work, just makes Harrington look like a kicked puppy, damaged and sad and cold. It makes Eddie want to take him in as one of his little lost sheep, honestly, which is an impulse he pushes far, far down. Abdicated or not, a king is no fit for a freak’s friend. Even if he and Byers have been pretty friendly. 

“I know,” he says. “But he was still my friend, you know? Like, the first one I ever had. Maybe that’s why it took me so long to realize.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. There’s an awkward silence, where Harrington turns his focus back to the mirror. Eddie clears his throat and tries to lighten the mood. “So, you and Byers…”

The look he receives could make the Demogorgon shake in his boots. “Don’t you have a class to fail or something? You should probably go to that before—”

The bell interrupts Harrington perfectly, and he snaps his mouth shut. Eddie snorts. 

“Think it’s a little late for that, but I know a dismissal when I see one. See you around, Harrington.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey, remember—“

“I know,” he calls behind him, striding for the door. “Mutually assured destruction!”

Leaving the bathroom feels like being reborn a whole new man. He swears the air is cleaner than it ever was before he went in. His last glance behind himself shows Harrington looking in the mirror, no sign of moving as the door shuts. 

As he’s walking to his next class, he spies Wheeler and Byers huddled together, whispering. They look worried. 

They both startle when he speaks. “If you’re looking for Harrington,” he says quietly, stopping next to them, “check the smoke bathroom, by the band hall. I think he’s still in there.”

Wheeler’s brows furrow, but Byers gives him a nod, already moving. Eddie moves along as Wheeler shoots him a quick look of gratitude before following, books hugged to her chest. 

Eddie doesn’t know what’s going on between the three of them, but he kind of wants to now, especially considering Harrington’s non-answer when he asked. He doubts Wheeler is a cover-up, not after her and Harrington’s breakup and the quiet, lovey-dovey honeymoon phase she and Byers seem to be having. The one that kind of seems to tear Harrington to pieces sometimes, even as he sits with them and walks to class with them and even hangs out with them outside of school, if Jeff really saw the three of them at the diner together last week. Maybe Steve Harrington’s a secret masochist.

Then he remembers the bruise yellowing around his eye, the weird tension he has with the guy who beat him up last year. The way he damn near begged Hagan to beat his ass in the bathroom. Not so secret, then. 

Whatever. It’s none of Eddie’s business. He’s gonna soil his reputation if he keeps focusing on Hawkins royalty like this. Never mind the way Harrington’s soiled his own reputation enough. So what if King Steve isn’t king anymore? He’s still just another pretty face. 

A pretty face, with nice arms and big eyes and thighs. And he’s queer, and doesn’t seem like the kind of closeted that would have the usual jock shove him away after getting a blowie. Shit.

His lungs itch for the cigarette he never got to smoke. Too bad the bathroom is occupied.

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Two: Safe From Heartbreak

The Pariahs That Saved The World [Masterlist]

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: nothing overtly horrible happening, mention of a funeral, mention of Victor Creel's appearance, canon-typical chapter here folks

[A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone supporting this story and I really hope I don't disappoint everyone. I am restricting myself to one chapter each week mostly because I really need the rest huns, it's been stressful lately x Anyways, enjoy this lengthy chapter of queer adorableness &lt;;3]

Safe From Heartbreak

“You brought her?!”

Steve’s concern was met with Robin’s innocent smile, raising her hands to sheepishly shrug. It wasn’t as if he could do anything about it; you were stood right there with that familiar scowl you reserved just for him.

Robin wasn’t sure how people were going to react when they found out she had gone and begged you to help them. There was a small but vital discussion about it before she decided to break all those rules. But she knew you had to be here.

“What did we say about making her do this? She didn’t wanna come.” Steve whispers at her, but the room was too small for privacy.

“Firstly, she is right here.” You say, folding your arms. “Secondly, Robin didn’t make me do anything. I’m here to help.”

“What made you change your mind?” Nancy speaks up from where she sat beside Lucas. You felt a pang of guilt when you remembered how you spoke to her last time. You had expressed your outright refusal to be a part of this and here you were, contradicting your own words.

“We all have people we need to protect, right?” You say quietly, avoiding her piercing eyes.

Steve runs a hand down his face as he sighs in defeat, relaxing his shoulders. You watch how his eyes dart to the corner and you look over, heart wrenching at the sight of Max staring back at you. She smiles, so you walk over with Robin’s gaze unknowingly fixed on your back.

“I’m gonna grab some drinks.” Nancy sighs, setting down the remnants of your old project folder. “Anyone want anything?”

“Some water?” Lucas asks and she nods, leaving the room in silence.

“Does she seem alright to you?” Steve asks, a soft frown on his face as he looks up the staircase.

“Why are you so worried, Steve?” Dustin speaks up with a mocking tone in his voice. Steve throws him a glare.

“Because we’re dealing with a mind wizard, asshole.” He grumbles and Robin laughs. He sends a pointed look, lowering his voice. “You’re one to joke.”

“Huh?” She questions and he gently pulls her aside, quickly checking that everyone else was occupied. You and Max were deep in whispered conversation while Lucas and Dustin weren’t so quiet, rambling on about Vecna and the possibilities for defeat.

“I know what’s been going on.” Steve reiterates and Robin scrunches her face.

“Well you wanna tell me, or is it a secret?” She jokes and he suppresses a smile. “Come on, what?”

“Y/n.” He says and she raises her eyebrow, automatically looking to where you sat beside Max, smiling at something the girl was saying.

“You like her.”

Her stomach drops, head whipping back to where Steve stood with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What?” Her eyes widen, looking flustered. She glances back over to you again, watching you laugh. “I- no. No, that’s not what’s happening.”

“Uh-huh.” He waggles his eyebrows, nudging her. “You’re not fooling me. You literally can’t take your eyes off her.”

“That’s not- I’m not.” She huffed, squeezing her eyes shut. “That’s not why I’m watching- wait, when did we move to making fun of my love life?”

“So it is a love life problem.” He points out and she shuts her mouth.

“I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Thank god.”

Robin attempts to speak, opening and closing her mouth until she huffs in frustrated defeat, storming away.

As Max turns away from you to continue working on her writing, you place a hand on her shoulder in silent goodbye and walk over to Steve, raising your eyebrow.

“I see you haven’t lost your effect on women.” You comment, head nodding to the staircase.

“Ha ha.” Steve rolls his eyes.

When he doesn’t continue speaking, you assume he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore. It made sense. You had ended the idea of friendship between you both horribly, warping his feeling for you into a reason of hatred. It was a long time ago now, but you still regret what you did when you see that look on his face.

As you move away, his soft grip suddenly reaches out and pulls you back, surprising you.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He sounded genuine, throwing you off guard as you blink up at him. With a sigh, he’s running a hand through his hair. He always did that when he was nervous. “You didn’t… you didn’t speak to us before you left last year.”

“I’m…” You start, frowning. You didn’t speak to us before you left last year… Bullshit. “Yeah, I’m fine. Looking forward to getting rid of this Vecna guy, anyway.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, looking over to the corner. “Thanks for helping. I know Max really appreciates it. You guys were always close.”

“I’d do anything for her.” You admit, nodding furiously. Your mouth suddenly feels dry and you look around. “Wasn’t Nancy getting water?”

“Yeah, I’m getting seriously thirsty right now.” Lucas mumbles, groaning when he notices all the information he has to cover on the table in front of him.

“She and Robin are probably chatting about girl stuff.” Dustin shrugs and you tilt your head.

“Girl stuff. Really?”

“I don’t know.” He raises his hands in surrender and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll go see where they are.”

Part of you was glad you could escape that basement for a moment. In no means did it feel crowded space-wise, but having these people stare at you felt suffocating. You could physically feel them trying to solve you like a jigsaw puzzle, wondering why you came back, why you were truly here. Why you left.

The distinct sound of Robin’s voice radiated from the kitchen, pulling you towards the room before you realised your feet were taking you closer. You poke your head around the corner to see her standing by the kitchen island in conversation with Karen, eyes light as she expresses gratitude for letting them be here.

“Anytime. I like having a full house.” Karen says, smiling and grabbing her purse. “I am just running out, let Nancy know I’ve left.”

“Will do.” Robin salutes, making the older woman laugh.

“Hey, hon.” Karen coos as she walks past you and Robin whips her head to where you’re leant against the door frame, a sad smile plastered across your face.

She feels terrible. Maybe Steve was right; she shouldn’t have dragged you into this. But it was too late now.

“So, Mrs Wheeler seems to like you.” You comment, the sadness breaking into genuine amusement and Robin shrugs.

“I get along with adults more than people my own age. Minus my own parents.” She states, and your face drops. You try to mask it, brushing imaginary dirt from your jeans so you could duck your head. But Robin caught it. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You sigh, gently closing your eyes for a moment before you walk over to her, leaning over the counter top. “It just feels weird to be back.”

“Sorry I dragged you here.” She says with a small voice and you look up at her, frowning.

“Robin, I meant what I said. You didn’t make me do anything.”

She dismisses it with the flick of her hand, looking unconvinced.

“Seriously.” You chuckle slightly, clasping your hands together for something to look at, leaning toward her as she sat down at a stool and rested her elbow on the surface. “I was gonna leave, like I originally planned. I’m only here for my grandad’s funeral. But… I can’t just leave when something dangerous is happening. I can’t leave Gran alone in Hawkins- I definitely can’t leave Max knowing that I did nothing to try and help.”

“I’m sorry about your grandad.” Robin smiles sympathetically, “Nancy didn’t mention that.”

“No one really knows.” You explain, resting your hand on your chin, matching her stance. “It wasn’t anything supernatural, you know? Just health… we knew it was going to happen for a while. My gran wants to keep it on the down low, have an intimate funeral. People will only bother her if she tells everyone.”

“She sounds like she knows what she’s doing.” She says and you laugh, nodding.

“She’s pretty great. Talks too much for her own good sometimes but I love that about her.”

Robin appears surprised, a hesitant spark in her eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” You smile, brows furrowed. “I think conversations like that are so much better. It’s… it’s expressive. There aren’t really any rules, we’re not restricting our thoughts because we are too afraid of being a burden. You can learn so much from someone when they talk like that. I really admire it.”

You look up to her flushed cheeks just in time to see her adjust her posture so the fabric of her sleeve hides the pink creeping up. You try and stop a smile, but it was useless. She looked really cute.

Robin was more than a little flustered now. She didn’t know why, but your words hit her like a tank carrying stone, 100mph, no survivors. She’s never had anyone tolerate her habit before let alone admire it. Steve might be right. Not that she’d ever say anything.

“Robin?” Your voice snaps her back into reality, eyes looking back into yours.

“Yeah?”

“I-”

The kitchen door swings open and you both whip your heads to the entrance, watching Nancy take a deep breath.

“Wait, weren’t you getting drinks?” You point between her and the tap, your original thoughts long forgotten now.

“I got distracted.” She states, reaching into the cupboard and pulling out two glasses. “I tried calling Jonathan but- it doesn’t matter. I can’t help thinking Victor Creel has to be connected. Like, really connected. None of those reports were giving any reason as to why Vecna didn’t kill him in the first place. We’re missing something. Something big.”

“Why don’t we just talk to Victor?” Robin suggests and Nancy lets out a breathy laugh, filling up a glass with water before shutting the tap off quickly, spinning around to face her.

“He’s- he’s locked up at Pennhurst, remember? Unless we’re family or some kind of authority, we’re not getting in to see him.”

Robin closes her mouth and thins her lips. “You’re right, that’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” You interject, glancing between them. “I know a way we can speak to him.”

“You got his number or something?” Robin quips and you fight a smile.

“I tried asking Pennhurst if I could speak with him last time. I rang them up and they told me I wouldn’t be allowed to see him unless I had permission from the director.” You explain, combing back through your memory. “Of course, they wouldn’t even let me get an appointment because I was just some stupid kid who was probably wasting their time trying to tell ghost stories.”

“What does this have to do with talking to Victor?” Robin redirects your thoughts and you clear your throat.

“When they went to hang up, I asked who the director would actually speak to. I was just trying to keep them talking so I could maybe convince them. They told me he would only take appointments with people serious about their future… and, yeah, they hung up.”

“Serious about their future?” Nancy prompts.

“Psych majors.” You say and her eyes light up. “They definitely won’t let us see Victor right away, but I guarantee we can get an appointment with the director if we were the type of students he’d want to see. Maybe-”

“Maybe we can persuade him to let us study him.” Nancy finishes and you snap your fingers, nodding. The drinks were since abandoned now, her fingers drumming against the kitchen island surface.

“Okay, and how are we meant to convince them we’re psych majors?” Robin asks, frowning. “I doubt they’re gonna let us walk in without some kind of proof, right?”

“We fake it.” Nancy nods enthusiastically. “It’s easy to create false identification these days, and I have the perfect place to do it.”

She’s already headed out into the hallway before Robin shrugs.

“Nancy committing a crime? I gotta see this.” She comments and you smile, following her out with a jolt of excitement in your chest.

You weren’t sure if that excitement was conclusive to the thrill of the investigation, or the eagerness you felt to spend time with the new friend you couldn’t stop thinking about.

“How long does it take you guys get some water?” Steve questions as you all come rushing down the stairs. Lucas frowns when he notices you were holding files instead of glasses.

“Okay, so…” Nancy breathes out with a smile, looking at you both either side of her. “We have a plan.”

“Thanks to Nancy’s newspaper minions, and Y/n’s incredible investigative skills, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame.” Robin says as everyone flicks through the files you whipped up, a smile creeping onto her lips for mentioning you. You weren’t ever given praise for your help in this group before.

“I’m now Ruth.” Nancy nods, looking at you.

“Elizabeth.” You raise your hand.

“And I’m Rose.” Robin announces.

“Ruth?” Steve raises a brow at Nancy and she shrugs.

“Nice GPA.” Dustin looks up at you with raised brows.

“I do my best.” You reply, earning a smile.

“So, we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we’re writing on paranoid schizophrenics-”

“To which they said no. Just like Y/n said they would.” Robin comments, glaring at Steve when he sends her a look.

“But we landed a three o’clock with the director.” You finish, crossing your arms. “We just need to, well, charm him into letting us speak to Victor.”

“And maybe we can rid Max of this curse.” Nancy says, and you nod slowly.

“Yeah, uh, about that.” Steve glances over his shoulder before leaning forward, gesturing to the scattered pieces of paper from your folder. “We’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh… we got some questions.”

“Lots of questions.” Lucas agrees.

“So do we.” Nancy states, shaking her head. “Hopefully, Victor has the answers.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second. Uh…” He shuffles through the three folders in his hands, shaking his head. “Where’s mine?”

The three of you share silent looks, Robin’s face twisting with indecision on what expression to make while Nancy struggles to answer.

“It doesn’t exist.” You finally say and he looks at you in shock. “What? We only made three. Unless you wanna be called Elizabeth…”

“What-”

“We should actually be getting ready.” Nancy cuts off his argument, standing up and nodding at you both.

Max turns in her seat and you send her a little salute, her own one sent back in return as you and Robin move to follow Nancy up the stairs. Steve cuts you off, and you see Nancy quicken her steps.

“That’s, uh… that’s not a thing again, is it?” You ask the girl beside you and she scoffs.

“A thing? No. Complete and utter nonsense? Absolutely.” She replies and you sigh, following their footsteps until it led you into Nancy’s bedroom.

“Nancy, you’re outta your mind if you think I’m babysitting again.” Steve whined while you and Robin roll your eyes, smirking at eachother.

“Okay, first of all, they’re not babies anymore.” Nancy says and he scoffs. “And Max is in real danger, she needs people around her.”

“I know, but why does it always have to be me?”

“Maybe because you still act like a child. You fit right in.” You offer with a smile and he squints his eyes.

“I liked it better when you weren’t here.”

“Oh, I’m touched.”

“Oh my god, you have a Tom Cruise poster.” Robin gawks as she enters the pink room, turning back with a suggestive grin. “You have a Tom Cruise poster.”

“That’s… old.” Nancy defends and you smile.

“Didn’t you used to kiss him every nigh-” You start but she cuts you off.

“I was twelve! That was… God, can you please not touch anything?” Nancy begs Robin, but the light brunette ignores her.

“I just- I can’t do anything here, Nance. Maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude.” Steve continues his failed attempt at joining your mission.

You perch yourself on the bed, smirking at Robin whenever she turns in awe to show you girly trinkets.

“I don’t know, I could, like, turn on my… my charm.”

“Not the kind of charm we need.” Nancy comments and Steve blinks.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, last I checked that other charm didn’t work either.” Robin calls out and Steve purses his lips, resting his hands on his hips.

“Okay, double ouch.”

“No, I just…” Nancy sighs, “Look, Y/n and I did a little digging and it turns out this Dr. Hatch…”

As Nancy tries to dig herself out of her hole, Robin points to her dresser and you move with her, slightly intrigued to know what she had found. She starts moving around books and paper until she picks up a small necklace, scanning the desk. You assume she’s looking for some place to store it and you pick up the box closest to you, assuming it was for jewellery. Robin nods and you both widen your eyes when it turns out it’s not a jewellery box, instead letting out a soft melody. You hadn’t seen one of these in years.

“… that, like him, we are true academic scholars.” Nancy ends her argument, focusing back on looking through her closet.

Robin takes the music box from your hands and turns to Steve, whispering. “Holy shit, there’s a little ballerina in here.”

You let out a giggle and Steve turns back to Nancy, unconvinced.

“Academic scholar?” His hand points to you. “They’re giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah.”

“No, but… they will.”

You both turn around to see what Nancy was implying to find her holding two of the ugliest outfits you’ve seen, nothing like the comfortable clothes you opt to wear for your daily life.

“Oh, please tell me you’re joking.” Robin cringes and you place a hand on her shoulder, pulling a face.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

Steve laughs, tilting his head at the assortment of pink and baby blue hanging from Nancy’s hands.

“Well, if I’m not going then can I ask for one very important thing?” He prompts and Nancy nods unknowingly.

He glances between you and Robin, smirking. “Take lots of photos.”

Robin reaches across the bed and acquires a pillow, throwing it at Steve’s head who merely ducks his way out the door frame, still laughing.

“Can I not just wear black? Is that not respectable?” You practically beg, holding the outfit she thrust into your arms like it was a ticking time bomb.

“I don’t have black.” Nancy shrugs, “Other than an old funeral outfit.”

Your face falls and you sigh, looking down at it with an intense stare.

“What are you doing?” Robin frowns, refusing to touch her clothes.

“Maybe if I squint hard enough, it’ll look better.” You say and Nancy sounds out a protest.

“Hey, these are my real clothes, remember?”

“And they look good on you.” You say, Robin nodding along with you. “But only you. Not me.”

“Definitely not me.” Robin agrees but Nancy smirks.

“Well, you don’t have a choice.” She says as she walks out of the room. “Be ready in 10!”

She leaves you and Robin stood there holding clothes you hoped never to be seen dead in, disgust etched into your features.

“It’s just, what, an hour? Two at most?” Robin tries to convince herself, comparing the shirt on her body. “God, it even looks uncomfortable.”

“Let’s just get it over with.” You sigh, pulling off your jumper and throwing it on the bed when you realise Robin’s staring at you, that familiar red tint on her cheeks. “What?”

“Nothing.” She looks away, lips tight. Your eyes widen.

“Shit, sorry, I can go change in the bathroom-”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m not uncomfortable, I-” She takes a deep breath. “Anyone can walk into the bathroom, we’ll just… yeah, we’ll just change here.”

She walks around to the other side of the bed, slipping off her shoes. When she starts to fiddle with her own jumper, you both immediately turn around to face away from eachother for some privacy.

You felt tense as you strip away your clothes to pull on Nancy’s ones, and you weren’t sure if it was a good or a bad feeling. You had only known Robin a little over a day maybe, but you haven’t felt so comfortable around someone for a while, not since… not since Starcourt, the hospital. Maybe…

No, you think to yourself, strapping on the heels that felt just a little too tight, I can’t let myself think that.

Robin was a friend, maybe not even that at the moment. And you don’t actually know her well enough to out yourself as a pariah.

“How are you feeling?” Robin calls out with your backs still turned, fiddling with some buttons. God, she hated this. The outfit, not you. Fuck.

She notices your hesitation, making her straighten up from where she sat perched on the edge of Nancy’s bed.

“About what?” You ask and she frowns.

“I don’t know… in general, I guess?”

“I’m… fine. A little weird that I’m wearing so much pink right now but, other than that, I’m okay.” You respond and she slowly nods, reaching down to slip on shoes. Ugh, heels. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah.” Robin says, standing up and immediately trying to find her balance. She wasn’t sure she could pull this off. “A little bit spooked, I guess, but hey, it’s Hawkins, what else is new?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Turn on the count of three?” Robin suggests and you agree. “One. Two. Three.”

You both spin around and immediately pause, taking in the new looks of the girls who definitely despised their clothes.

“We look ridiculous.” Robin blinks, turning to the mirror and gasping.

“I feel ridiculous.” You mumble, shifting the skirt that dug into your waist. Robin points to her reflection in horror and you shake your head.

“I don’t even want to know what I look like. I like ignorance.” You decide, walking over to the door. “Let’s go find Nancy and get out of here before anyone else-”

You open the door to find Steve, Dustin, and Nancy patiently waiting on the other side, staring back at you. Nancy gives a nod of approval, Dustin twists his face in horror and Steve starts grinning.

“What?” Robin asks as she joins you, eyes widening.

There was a sudden snap and you glare at Steve, the boy lowering his hand and hiding the disposable camera behind him.

“Have fun.” He says before dragging Dustin away with him, the younger boy still staring at you.

“It just feels so wrong.” He mutters and Steve agrees, disappearing down the stairs.

“Well, that makes me feel better.” You groan and Robin shakes her head.

“Nope, not doing it.” She tries to run but Nancy’s grabbing your arms, pulling you with her.

“Come on, you both look great.” She rolls her eyes, smiling. “Let’s go be so smart the director can’t refuse us.”

“He’s going to refuse us.” You comment, watching the way Robin itched to be out of her outfit, your own hands fiddling with the skirt. Nancy’s hand slaps yours away and you gape at her.

“We’ll be fine as long as we play our parts.” She reminds you both and you take a breath.

“Yes, mom.” You mumble and she rolls her eyes.

“Y/n’s right, I can’t breathe in this thing.” Robin complains, struggling with her heels, “And I’m itchy. I’m itching all over.”

“It’s not all about comfort. Okay? We’re academics.” Nancy says and Robin sighs.

“Who are evidently coming from an Easter brunch.” She says and you laugh, snapping your mouth shut when Nancy glares at you. “Also, this bra that you gave me is really pinching my boobs.”

“Yeah, and why do you look good and we look like The Shining twins?” You ask and Robin gasps in acceptance.

“Ooh, good one.”

“Okay, how about you both just let me do the talking?” She asks, looking between you both. “If that’s even possible?”

“It’s not only possible, it’s inevitable.” Robin stresses, pulling at the collar. “Because shortly, I’ll be dead from strangulation!”

Before you could even walk into the building, a man in monochrome stops you all, eyebrows raised.

“We have an appointment with the director.” Nancy smiles and you force your own, hands clasped in front of you. The man simply gives a curt nod, opening the door and jutting his chin.

“Friendly.” You mutter as you pass him, focusing everything on keeping your cool. The last time you went undercover like this was when you went to see Mrs. Driscoll…

As the man continues to what Robin assumed to be the office, she turns around to find you stood there, adjusting the waist band once again. In a sneaky turn, she makes her way back to you, dipping her head to meet your eyes.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Huh?” You look up, blinking. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m… Just got distracted for a moment. Let’s go.”

You both return to Nancy in time for the door to open, a very brief greeting to the director behind the desk until you were all sat in front of him, trying not to sweat. You hated this feeling in your chest, some kind of fluttering darkness.

“3.9 GPAs.” Hatch comments, nodding approvingly as he holds the last folder; yours. “All of you. Impressive.”

“And this is a recommendation from Professor Brantley.” Nancy holds out yet another forged document, the lie rolling off her tongue like it was second nature. There was a bitterness latching onto your throat then, remembering the last time she had looked you dead in the eyes and lied.

“Yeah, I know Larry. Quite well, actually.”

Your heart leaps to your throat. Fuck, you should have known that. You were in charge of the research, why didn’t you check to see-

“Eh, you know what they say.” Hatch says, raising his eyebrows. “Those who can’t do, teach.”

Robin giggles at his joke and you smile, nodding.

“Uh, yes. Yes, that’s actually why we’re here.” Her eyes dart to yours and you sense she’s afraid of messing up.

“We can only learn so much when we’re confined to a classroom.” You speak up and Nancy nods eagerly, smiling with you.

Hatch hums in agreement, “And I’m sympathetic to your struggle, truly. But there is a protocol to visiting a patient like Victor. You have to put in a request, and then you have to undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision.”

He starts to slide the documents back to you and you bite your lip.

“I can see you’re disappointed.” He comments, “But I’m more than happy to give you a tour of our facility. Perhaps you can even speak to some patients in our low-security wing.”

The way he spoke down to you had your skin crawling with fury. This wasn’t the first time you’d been talked to like a mindless child.

“And we’d… we would love that.” Nancy tries, smiling again. “It’s just that, um… our thesis is due next month-”

“And you’re out of time.” Hatch cuts her off, raising an eyebrow. “Whose fault is that?”

You purse your lip, looking at your feet.

“Ours. Absolutely.” Nancy continues, hoping to appeal to his good side. You weren’t convinced he even had one. “We just- we wanted-”

“We didn’t drive all the way here to be disrespected.” You suddenly say and Nancy’s eyes widen in shock, looking at you like you were crazy.

“Excuse me?” Hatch blinks, reeling up to spew out more ridicules.

“Sir,” Nancy leans forward, “I do apologise for-”

“Don’t apologise, Ruth. Screw that.” Robin says this time and Nancy is almost staring daggers at you both. “Elizabeth is correct for being upset. The fact of the matter is, we did put in a request months ago and were denied. And then we reapplied and were denied again. And coming here was our last-ditch effort to save our thesis. And I really… I can’t breathe in this thing.”

“Uh, well, Rose, maybe you’d like to go outside and get some air.” Nancy says through gritted teeth.

“Maybe I should, Ruth.” Robin replies and you clear your throat.

“Director Hatch. Dr, I presume?” You look at him and he nods, frowning. “May I ask if anyone has ever had an appointment with you and gotten to speak to a patient of their choice before? Academically speaking, of course.”

“Well-”

“Hm, and how many of them were men?” You continue, Hatch struggling with his words. His hesitancy told you all you needed them to. “Right. All of them.”

“I don’t understand what you are implying, Miss…” He starts rooting back through documents and you scoff, taking him by surprise.

“You can just call me Elizabeth. Seeing as you never asked us originally if we were okay with not being addressed by our professional names, I can assume that you never bothered to learn or even look at what my surname might be.”

“Well, I-” He stutters and you know you have him where you need him to be.

“The thing is, Dr Hatch, I’m not even offended anymore. None of us are. Because if we were men sat in front of you right now, you’d actually be seeing us with the intention of discussing our request to see Victor Creel instead of inviting us here to simply mock us.” You say in a sickly sweet voice laced with venom. You turn your head to Robin. “Isn’t that right, Rose?”

“Yes, it is.” Robin nods, suddenly standing from her chair, “In fact, I’m starting to think this whole thing is a colossal mistake. I’m breaking out in a rash, my boobs hurt. And I’ll tell you the truth, Anthony. May I call you Anthony? These aren’t actually my clothes. I borrowed them because I wanted you to take us seriously. Because nobody takes girls seriously in this field, they just don’t. We don’t look the part or whatever, but can I tell you a story?”

Hatch stares up in confusion and you hide a smirk, fixing the same glare on him as Robin rambled about summer camp, about how she was fascinated with knowing Victor Creel’s mind and you felt that flutter of darkness burst into something else, something a little brighter. You knew words could be a powerful thing, and you knew now that Robin was so much more than you realised.

“I wanted to be you!” Robin emphasises, breathing heavy. “So, forgive me if I’ll now try anything in my power, including wearing this ridiculous outfit, if I might get the chance to speak to the man that ignited my passion, and learn a little more about how his twisted, but let’s face it, totally fascinating mind works.”

She takes a deep breath and you stand up, too, ignoring Nancy’s wide eyes.

“Maybe we don’t have the official paperwork, but don’t tell us that a man like cry-baby Petey wouldn’t have gotten an audience with Victor in a matter of moments if he’d asked politely, because we all know that he would.” You conclude, both you and Robin sharing that same fire in your eyes as you stare down at this man, unwavering.

“So… ten minutes with Victor. That’s all we ask.” Robin suggests, and Hatch glances between all three of you, sighing.

“Follow me.” He finally says, standing from his desk and leading you all to the door, letting his receptionist know he’d be out.

You and Robin sneak a grin to eachother, an amazed Nancy shaking her head in astonishment, leaning close.

“You guys make a great team.” She whispers and Robin smiles, feeling giddy when you reach for her hand and squeeze for a second in victory.

“Y/n?”

“Y/n, are you okay?”

Your head is thumping, trying to force your eyes open. You felt tired and dizzy, taking in as many deep breaths as you can.

“What happened?” You manage to say, clearing your throat. You can just make out Robin’s face leaning over from the passenger seat. You blink. Since when were you back in the car? “What…”

Whatever your question was to be, your mind interrupted you with a sharp memory.

“Did I survive?” Victor says with a low voice, his deformed eyes felt like they were staring into your soul, your heart beating erratically. “No, I assure you…”

His head slowly turns towards the bars, suddenly snapping to where you stood.

“I am still very much in hell.”

“You fainted.” Nancy says from behind the wheel, a crack in her voice. “Hatch found us out, tried to have us arrested. We needed to make a run for it so you distracted them…”

“I think we can beat him.” Nancy whispers to you both as you walk through the courtyard, officers trailing behind you.

“What?” Robin frowns.

“To the car.” She specifies, determination written across her face. You nod in agreement, already seeing the familiar brown of the wagon across the field.

“Okay, I’m warning you right now, I have terrible coordination.” Robin stresses, “It took me six months longer to walk than all the other babies. I’ll just slow you guys down.”

“I’ll distract, you guys run.” You whisper, walking beside the hedge.

“What?” Nancy turns to you, Robin sporting a similar expression of horror.

“I took track for three years, remember?” You remind Nancy and she tilts her head in contemplation. “I can outrun them and give you time to start up the car. I’ll meet you outside the gates.”

“What- is this really a plan right now?!” Robin hisses at you both and Nancy grabs her hand.

Before Robin can protest any further, you quickly swipe at the ground and gather stones, spinning around to launch them at the officers.

“Just follow my lead.” Nancy urges as she pulls Robin into a run and you sprint the other way, glancing back to ensure they were both following you instead of them.

The next thing you can remember is being tackled to the ground, an array of voices shouting after you. It wasn’t an officer, though. It was a patient, her wild eyes screaming at you.

“Curse! Curse!”

She had spewed that over and over until you manage to push her off, scrambling to your feet and cutting through the trees, making out the silhouette of the vehicle just leaving.

“You passed out when you got to us, are you- are you okay?” Robin’s brows are furrowed, looking at you with more concern than you think you ever had for yourself.

“Fine.” You shake your head, slowly sitting up. “I think I accidentally ran into someone and hit my head a little. I must have been dizzy.”

It was a blatant lie and you knew it. But the truth sounded too scary for you to want to focus on.

“What did I miss?”

“Uh…” Robin looks to Nancy and your stomach drops. “Well…”

“Vecna got to Max.” Nancy says for her and you lurch forward.

“What?! Is she okay?”

“She’s okay.” Robin confirms, nodding profusely. “She’s fine. We told them about the music and they managed to pull her out of it before anything truly horrible could happen.”

You sigh in relief, slumping back into your seat. “Thank god.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nancy finds your eyes in the rear-view, frowning.

“I’m alright.” You let out a breathy laugh. “I think I severely overestimated my stamina from five years ago.”

“Good.” She smiles, and you curl your lips in return. “At least we know something now, right? This trip wasn’t a total waste. I say we take a look at the Creel House, see if we can find anything else.”

With everyone in silent agreement, you all try to calm your nerves from the day.

“I wish we knew more.” Robin speaks up after a few more minutes of driving, shifting in her seat so she could see both you and Nancy. “I mean, we still don’t really know how to stop him.”

“And why only one at a time?” You frown and she looks at you questioningly. “Victor’s whole family was taken in a night, one after the other. It’s terrifying to think, but… but what’s stopping him from doing that now?”

“Maybe he got weaker?” Robin suggests and Nancy sighs, shaking her head.

“Let’s just take today as a milestone, get some sleep, and keep working tomorrow.” She suggests and you nod, murmurs of agreement falling from both of your lips.

Your head turns back to the window, sinking further into your seat. Nancy was right, you should be looking to the positives, not digging yourself a hole of disappointment. You were so sure this trip would answer everything, but everything wasn’t as simple as you had hoped. This thing was new and it was bigger than you could ever have imagined. In fact, the more you thought about it, the clearer it became that you still had a chance to walk away from it all. You were one plane ticket away from escaping again, once and for all. In two days you’d be at your grandfather’s funeral, and in two days you will have nothing else holding you here except the responsibility you’ve all put on yourselves.

No, you couldn’t leave. It wouldn’t be right to rub it in Max’s face that you can escape this when she’s bound to it. You owed her this.

She was the only one who actually cared for you when Heather died.

taglist: @kryztalglear / @dejerw / @officerrrfriendly / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @spacedoutdaydreamer / @endurexxsurvive / @em16cor / @gray-cheese / @chaosofmanyfandoms

i try to keep up to date with taglists but if i have missed anyone or if you would like to be added please comment below or let me know via asks! [if i have highlighted your username in pink, it means tumblr isn’t allowing me to tag you so please check visibility settings while i try my best to sort this out!]

[baileypie-writes]

Hii! I'm srry for requesting sm but can I plz request a Velvet and Veneer oneshot with a preteen sister??

Basically, One day reader invites one of her friends over and reader starts to realize she's growing feelings for her friend (u can name readers friend whatever) and reader confesses to her friend, leading them to having their first kiss. Velvet and Veneer are shocked and confused. But the reader was js scared of coming out to them??

A/N ~ Sure Hope you enjoy!

~I Like Girls~

Velvet and Veneer + Queer!Younger Sister!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Familial

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Synopsis: Velvet and Veneer find out that you like girls after confessing to your friend.

Warnings: Reader coming out(also technically Veneer), Velvet and Veneer spying on Reader and her friend

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There she went, talking about her interests again. You’d think one would get tired of hearing about the same thing over and over again by the same person, but not you. In fact, you love it when she does this.

Skylar was your best friend. But recently, you’ve realized that your feelings towards her might not be so platonic. Tonight, after listening to her talk, you’re now certain that you have a crush on her. You love how happy she looks, just talking about something she loves. You love how expressive she is with her hands as she does so.

Skylar suddenly stops. “Oh sorry, I’m probably boring you, aren’t I?” She asks, becoming embarrassed.

“Oh, no! Not at all! I love hearing about your interests!” You reassured her.

She smiled, looking down to avoid eye contact, still a bit embarrassed. You took a deep breath. You’re gonna tell her. Trying to hype yourself up in your head, you sat up straight, and started the confession.

~~~~

“Why did you insist on going on a snack run, Veneer?” Velvet complained, all while holding a few grocery bags in her arms.

“Because, we were running low! And I wanna make sure sis and her friend have choices!” Veneer explained, making Velvet groan.

The two were approaching your bedroom door. Veneer opened his mouth, about to surprise you, but what he heard from inside made him shut it immediately.

“I like you.”

Velvet and Veneer snapped their heads to face one another, both giving the same shocked and confused expression. They quietly leaned closer, looking in through the small crack in the door.

“Like, not as a friend. I wasn’t sure before, but tonight really made me realize it. You’re just so cool, and fun. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I’m not sure if you like girls so…” You paused awkwardly. You looked away, rubbing the back of your neck. You awaited her possible rejection. A small laugh, and a hand on yours made your heart jump.

“I like you too!” Skylar said, much to your delight. You were still frozen, not exactly sure what to do. But Skylar did. She leaned forward, and put her lips on yours. You happily leaned into the kiss.

After a few seconds, you pulled away. The two of you said nothing, just smiled at each other. Suddenly, you heard your door creak open.

Velvet and Veneer stood outside, mouths hung open.

“Oh my god, did you guys see all that?” You asked, praying that you were wrong. Skylar burst into laughter.

“Why didn’t you tell us you liked girls?!” Veneer asked in shock, avoiding your question.

“I didn’t know how you guys would react!”

“How?! I’m literally gay! I thought it was obvious!”

“Yeah! It’s so obvious!” Velvet chimed in.

“I mean- well yeah! But you never confirmed it!”

“I thought I didn’t have to!”

All while you and Veneer went back and forth, Skylar was dying. She thought this was the funniest thing ever. After Velvet decided that it’s gone on long enough, she cut you two off.

“So, you got a girlfriend now?” She asked.

You looked back at Skylar, silently asking if you did. She nodded enthusiastically, making you smile big.

“Yeah, I do!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes